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#angst?
ittybittyluci · 3 days
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YO YO WAIT! WAIT HOLD UP WAIT!
Hear me out on this as we delve into the realm of: I’m probably reading too much into it but imma gush anyways, because, BITCHES, I just had a revelation!
Said revelation has to do w/ Lucifer and him wearing his waistcoat. Just like— hear me out on this one.
Throughout the show, it feels like when he wears it, he’s like… not in a good mental state and/or putting on a show.
Don’t believe me? Alright then.
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When we first meet Lucifer, he’s holed up in his office, DEEP in depression, making a shit ton of rubber ducks and freaking out. Then he goes to the hotel and the ENTIRE RIME is showboating and acting over the top trying to prove himself and not being honest about what his real problem w/ Charlie talking to Heaven is. Not a good mental state. AND the whole time he’s got his waistcoat. Even when he’s alone in his room.
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THEN, we see him again in the battle where he’s come to defend his honour as King. So like, obvs he’s gonna have it he has a persona to maintain. But ALSO he’s fighting the man directly associated w/ his Fall, and by association the GUILT he has about his fall. So he probably wasn’t feeling too great THEN either. Was also wearing his waistcoat.
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But after the battle (masterless cattle— sorry) Lucifer is… happier. He made it, he made a difference and now he’s here to help pick his daughter up and support her. They just won a battle against the angels and his child is happy that he’s there. Even in the wake of the destruction, he’s a pretty happy guy. No waistcoat.
WHY is this important you ask? WELL! It uh… it’s not. I just thought it was cool. But ALSO it allows me to make some grasping at straws theories and/or headcanons about his relationship with Lilith, and when exactly that (allegedly) began to fall apart.
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These are photos from when Charlie was little. Lucifer is NOT wearing his jacket. The family looks happy, Luci is in a good mental place, they are out and about and enjoying life. Life is GOOD.
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THESE are family photos of when Charlie was in her teens. And yes, I understand they are posing as the royal family here, but it’s also the ONLY pictures he has that we see of them together during this stage of Charlie’s life. He IS wearing his waistcoat. So, my grasping at straws ass is going to take THIS as the indication that things aren’t exactly alright on the home front OR in Lucifer’s head. The smiles are big and fake and don’t quite feel real.
So like… idk, I guess I’m just saying that I think it’s cool some things may allude to incidents in the past, and how we got to where we are today. How Luci is alone, and Lily is in Heaven. Again, IT’S PROBABLY NOT ACTUALLY THIS DEEP! But I can pretend okay 😭😭
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tojispepperonis · 2 days
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Small idea (to be written) happy ending?? Idk
Anywho… being best friends with Toji?? And obviously being in love with him I mean cmon🙄 and toji falling in love with someone else. Y/N decides to confess before it’s too late? Or she keeps it in? Idk. But slowly toji stops hanging out with Y/N and instead hangs out with new girlfriend more ditching y/n on their usual hangout days, cancelling plans or just standing y/n up basically.
Y/n tries to contact toji but he isn’t picking up only to find out that he had taken off somewhere with his gf when y/n and him were supposed to celebrate friendship anniversary (and this is pretty important to the both of them as they always try and make time for eachother)
Y/n decides to go away herself as she feels like she just needs a breather.
Toji comes back, finally decides to ring back y/n, she ain’t picking up, Toji gets worried/angry, goes to y/ns house, realised she ain’t there and just kinda goes a bit crazy.
That’s all for now:)
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luvrxbunny · 7 months
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i feel like you would be miguel’s comfort space.
and it’d be so fucking cute
like if he’s had a long ass day and you’ve heard, you come home to him just sitting on the couch and he seems fine
anyone else would think that they’d misheard, that he actually had a perfectly fine and easy day but when his eyes meet yours they flicker in their calmness for just a moment, like you can see all his distress flash over his features before he can regulate it
when you rush over to hug him you can hear his breathing hitch and pick up as his hands grip you tighter in the hug. you hear sniffles work their way into his breathing pattern and maybe he just sadly whimpers your name before the tears start streaming down his face.
and i imagine he hates that he can’t control his emotions around you, that he feels so comfortable and safe, he has no choice but to let them out in your presence
especially in your embrace
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skyebounded · 1 month
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Pacify Her
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© Skyebounded, do not use my work, but you may share it.
Masterlist   .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.
premise: The devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him.
pairing: Professor Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader
warnings: dark elements, toxic obsessions, possession (but not the scary supernatural kind) smut (p in v-fingering-etc) tom riddle (his own warning) there is probably a lot more...
wc: 4.2k
a/n: this is beautiful and I don't care if you don't agree. shoutout to @demiguisemoon for keeping me company throughout this ride.
enjoy the playlist that I made for this story!
He never truly knew what you were capable of, or more so what his influence would do to you, and that was the problem. He had completely underestimated you, and that would be not only your downfall, but his as well. Pretty and pliant, that's what you were to him, the perfect match, not only intellectually, but emotionally as well. You suited him. From the moment you stumbled into his compartment on the train, down to the moment that you sat down in front of him, not a word muttered, but yet a conversation was had. You understood him, and quite frankly, he understood you, or so he believed.
No one understood him the way you did, the way that you clung to his every word like gospel. Feeding into his absurdities, but never once looking at him as if he was wrong. You supported him. Truth was you were obsessed. Incomplete and broken without him, much like a wounded bird, someone he could fix, take care of, mould into something he wanted, and you lived for it. Lived for the moments that he taught you, helped you, controlled you. The moments where he needed you and only you. At his beck and call in the late hours of the night, or for the favours that could ultimately get you expelled, for anything he wanted, and you’d do it, obediently. You were his. You belonged to him from the first moment, and though neither of you knew it, he belonged to you. 
“Is this seat taken?” You asked, slipping into the compartment faster than he could respond, but he didn’t. He pulled his nose from the daily prophet to study you. He had never seen you before, which was odd considering you were in his house, the green and silver snake adoring your breast, a Slytherin, and a pretty one at that, an old soul and kindred spirit…of sorts. There was something in the way you looked at him, that dutiful look in your piercing eyes, a look as if you could see into the deepest darkest depths of his soul, something he was certain he had well hidden, and yet what you saw didn’t alarm you. Somehow it didn’t scare him, it intrigued him, you intrigued him. He watched as you slid the door closed behind your back, before sliding into the seat across from him, hands trapped behind your back, and your head cocked to the side as you studied him. The slightest of smiles on your face. He should have known then, known what you would become to him, but he could never have suspected you to be as such.
Frail and malleable, obsessed and devoted, and you were his. His star, his pet, his property. You grew to need him, unable to do without the moments you shared with him. You found yourself lingering in the back of his classes, hoping that he would catch a fleeting glimpse of you, needing you for something, anything, to utilise you, need you. For the moments that he’d call for you in the late hours of the night, for the small favours that could leave you expelled or worse, with the promise that nothing bad was going to happen to you, he wouldn’t let it. The hours that you spent with him, soon turned to days, weeks, stealing away any moment that you could, eager to please, to be close. Somewhere in the dim candle light of his office, stolen glances, gentle touches, words exchanged. Finding yourself desperate for the after hours of study in the library, the ones where you could find him making his way from the restricted section, his pretty nose stuck within the pages of his books. Knowing you were there, dutifully watching him, waiting for the right opportunity to seek him out or for him to call for you. 
Your life had become dull. Classes lacked challenge, you found little to no enjoyment in day to day activities, your friends became distant memories, dramatic, but even your mundane routines lost flavour. All you had was him, and the little periods of time you spent by his side. At his beck and call, seduced by the ways he consumed you. Your mind, your body, and most definitely your tainted soul. He knew it too, knew that he could use you for anything his heart desired, that you would do nothing but obey him, follow blindly if he requested it of you, no questions to be asked. A perfect pawn, follower. The more eager you became, with the incessant need to do more, be more for him, he took to it. Giving you more and more to do. It had soon become a list of tasks, simple favours as he would call it. Hide this, seek out this, do this…And you did, you did all of it. 
Your blood rushed as you closed the office door behind you, back pressed against the firm wood, hands clasped behind you, as your eyes scanned the dimly lit room until you found him. In the centre of the room, sat plainly in his chair, eyes roaming your eager figure. He looked as though he sat on a throne, one of his own creation, his arms extended out on the sides of the chair, comfortable and yet cold, observant. “Did you get it?” was all he said, leaning forward over his desk, the faintest traces of a smile on his face when the stifled giggle of yours fleas from your lips. You held it up, in the palms of your small hands presenting it to him, the book he had sent you to find. Restricted, forbidden even, and you had managed it, with his help of course. “Of course.” you whispered. He beckend you over with the bend of two slender fingers, and you moved on your own volition, approaching him with such eagerness. He took the book from your palms, his fingers ghosting over your soft skin, and you wonder if it was on purpose. “Good girl.” There it was, the praise you strove for, the praise that came from him and him only. The slightest flick of his wand had the door clicking locked, as his eyes came to study you once more. There was a fascination in his gaze, the way his eyes softened to you, desperately trying to hide the hunger that he felt towards you. You had something that he had never quite found in anyone else, something that made him crave you more than he had for anyone else…and there it was, the thought that you were his and only his. 
His eyes left you, meeting the pages of the book you had stolen for him, consuming every word on the stale worn parchment. While he was entranced, devouring the text, you were devouring the sight of him, leaning over the desk, eyes droning over the pages. He was stunning this way. The crease in his brow, eager to learn, and you were right there with him, desperate to know just what held him so captivated, leaning over his desk in hopes of catching the slightest bit of the contraband he had tasked you with stealing, no concern for what could have happened to you if you had been caught. But you knew that somehow, if that had been the case, he would have protected you, always, he would be there. His eyes darted up from the page, a lustful hunger to them, but for you or for the knowledge he had been enthralled with, you weren’t sure. “Look.” he instructs, slumping back in his chair, gesturing to the page, the hints of a smile on his lips. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned over the mahogany desk, feeling the hem of your uniform riding up in the back, exposing yourself to him as you did your best to read what was before you, eyes focussing on the text of ancient runes. It wasn’t of much use, you simply couldn’t read it. “I can’t read it, sir.” you mutter, chancing a look back at him. His eyes were shamelessly crawling up the length of your bare legs, and to the swell of your ass. He had looked at you like this before, that strained look in his eyes, like he was in deep thought but those thoughts were ones that he would never quite say aloud, the smallest of smirks on his lips, as he dragged his tongue along them. “I see..” he remarks, slowly pulling his gaze away from your ass, to meet your much more innocent gaze. It was one of his favourite things to do. To teach you, to watch you learn from him. It gave him the sweetest sense of power and meaning. “And what would you have me do about that, darling?” He leaned forward, his eyes cold and narrowed, but that flick of amusement dancing across them.
“Read it to me?” It was a simple request, your voice strong and confident. You wanted to know, wanted him to show you, and he seemed to like the idea. Tom hummed, a sweet sound of satisfaction, as his slender fingers wrapped around your dainty wrist, pulling you down onto his lap, a gesture he had never quite done before. He was confident in his motions, calculated and collected. He knew what he wanted, and that was you. His hands remained on your hips, fingers drumming on your thighs. “Read it to you, hmm?” He hums, delicately brushing a strand of your hair away from your neck, the tips of his fingers ghosting over your throat. Goosebumps lining your skin, while his other hand trailed slowly up your bare thigh. Gentle touches that were purposeful, and well measured. Even in this, he was in control. In control of himself, and of the situation. “How will you ever learn if I just read it to you?” “Teach me then..” you blurt, your voice had never been so soft, so demanding and yet desperate. “Sir..” you add, looking back at him. His thumb had started to draw soft slow patterns on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. “Teach you….” You could see that he was mulling it over…”teach you…” he cooed in approval, a sinister grin consuming his face. “Very well, darling, teach you, I shall.” He gave a hearty squeeze to your thigh, your breath hitching and your body tensing for a brief moment in his lap, shifting your attention back to his face. Pretending as if he couldn’t see the way your eyes studied him, the way they seemed to have heart shaped iris that were only for him.  
His own gaze was casted past you, eyes scoured the pages before him, looking for something suitable to turn into a lesson. His hands still wandering aimlessly on your skin. “Here…let's start simple…” He leaned back enough, turning to look at you, his breath fanning across your lips from being so close. His eyes trailing up your features until his eyes met yours. “This rune here…” he starts, grasping your jaw with his index and thumb, turning your face, back to the book. “This rune…’othilia’ corresponds to the Latin letter…?” “o.” you state, looking to him for approval, his approval. A soft smile was all he gave you. “And what do you think it means…” His hand, resting under your skirt, had found its way to the crease of your hips and thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh, while his thumb thrummed against your clothed cunt. You found it hard to concentrate, to really look at the shapes on the page, but you had to. “Um…power, wealth?” you tried, letting out a breathy sigh, when his thumb found its way into the damp fabric of your panties, rolling soft circles into your swollen clit. You felt his lips against your ear, your head lulled back against his shoulder. “It means, heritage, possession..” he punctuated the last word with a flick of his thumb, a gesture that had a sweet moan falling from you. With precision he gently rolled his finger over your bud, nipping at your ear with each sweet sound you let out. “Focus….” he coos, drawing your half lidded eyes back to the book. “This one, ‘mannaz’,  tell me its correspondent…” Your mind was muddled. He had pulled the wet fabric away from your cunt, traipsing his slender fingers through your folds, collecting your sweet arousal, teasing your entrance as he waited for your response. “Go on…what is it.?” You hummed softly, searching your mind for what it could possibly be. “Um..it’s ‘m’ the latin ‘m’..” you whimpered, feeling the intrusion of a single digit slipping into your sopping heat. He was rewarding you, with each correct response you gave him. “And what does it mean?” 
You weren’t sure how much of this he really thought you could handle, not with the way that his finger was slowly thrusting in and out of you, his thumb languidly massaging your tender clit. He was watching you, his own gaze lidded, dark. Hungry. He was enjoying this, enjoying the way that he had you, pulling answers from you with simple touches. “Don't make me stop, what does it mean?” he teases, and yet somewhere in the pit of your stomach, you knew that he would. That he would leave you high and dry at a moment's notice. Your eyes had fallen closed, summoning all of your strength to answer him, as he slipped another finger into you, curling them against your sweet spot, just to feel your breath hitch and your body shutter in his grasp. You could feel the way that his cock had hardened beneath you, kept from you by the confines of his trousers, and it did little to help you focus any, it was cruel. “It means…ma-man?” you gasped out, his pace increasing. His lips met the side of your neck, tenderly kissing every bit of exposed skin that he was presented with, careful not to leave a single mark on that delicate skin of yours. “Very good..” he coos, his hot breath felt on your neck and ear. His fingers toyed relentlessly with your aching cunt, his thumb circling your clit gently, and his lips littering chaste kisses to your exposed skin. He had quickly given up on the lesson at hand, now far too consumed in the way that you were writhing happily in his grasp, soft sweet sounds escaping past your lips. Your back arched into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you lost all coherency. Lewd sounds left you like a sinful prayer, trickling past your lips with no real power to stop them. 
You whined, feeling the emptiness in your cunt as he pulled his fingers from you, only to have them brought up to your chapped lips, as he slid not one but both fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the pad of your tongue. A silent order, to taste yourself, to clean up the mess that you had made, and you did without hesitation, closing your lips around them, letting your tongue lap up any and all of the arousal that coated his fingers. He cooed, sweet and simple praises, between delicate chaste kisses to your neck. His free hand wanders the expanse of your neck, down to the top of your blouse, deftly popping the buttons one by one. His touch was featherlight, a mere ghost over your skin, and such a thing allowed for goosebumps to litter your skin. His thumb circles your nipple through your thin bra, smiling against your neck as it perks at his touch. He loved the possession he had over your body, the way you would let him do whatever to it as if it was his own, and you would argue that it was. That it belonged to him, that you belonged to him. 
You weren’t sure when it changed, the suddenness of it all, but you found yourself being gently laid down against the hard polished wood of his desk, your back draping over the materials he had been studying, and your skirt pushed up your waist. His body hovered over yours, his hands gliding up under the blouse that he had worked open, greedily exploring the exposed skin, his head ducked and lips ghosting over the spot his hands had touched mere seconds ago. Your eyes had fallen shut somewhere along the way, relying on your other senses completely. Gentle kisses, soft bites, and languid movements of his tongue as he dragged it up your sternum and neck, taking in the sweet smell and taste of your delicate skin. You arched into his touches, soft sweet sounds escaping you at every one. Each of your senses flooded with nothing but him. His lips were pending over yours, a silent acknowledgement, that everything would be on his terms, and you were okay with it. 
He didn’t bother to kiss you, and you didn’t request it of him either. 
Tom made quick work of removing his trousers, before his hands slid up your thighs, fingers ghosting over your cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you present in the moment. He hooked his fingers over your panties and pulled them aside, the cool air hitting your bare cunt, a soft hiss escaping your lips.  With his free hand, Tom wrapped his slender fingers around your chin, using his index and thumb to pull your face up to his. His eyes were cold, animalistic desire dwelling past the dark shade of brown. He tilted your head down so that you could watch the way his swelling cock slid into your tight cunt, forcing you to understand that he owned you, now in body as well.
Your mouth hung open in a silent gasp, the unrelenting feeling of him stretching you out was nothing shy of pain, but a sweet sweet pleasure. He watched your face, mocking the way you fell silent, with a sly smirk to his perfect lips. He forced you to watch every sinful inch of him disappear deep into your greedy cunt, time and time again. He wanted you to understand, to grasp the claim he had on you. You were being rewarded for your diligence, for your obedience, and he wanted you to know that you were his, only his. No one else could touch you like this, that's what he was saying to you. 
Tom let go of your face, as he gripped your hips, jerking you towards the edge of the table. Your hands fall back to support you, arching your back slightly as you watch him with lidded eyes. As he moved, his pace picking up with each passing moment, you began to lose yourself to the delicious drag of his heavy cock, your sinful mantra of moans and whimpers filling the dark empty spaces of his office. His fingers gripping onto the soft pliable flesh of your thigh and hip was bruising, another simple yet effective reminder of who you belonged to. 
He watched each little tick of your face, each pleasure filled twitch of your lips as you fought off a smile at the feeling of him, taking in each little puff of air that left your parted lips, each pant and moan of satisfaction. He coaxed nothing but the best out of you, building your release at his own desire, his own pace. Your head fell back, your eyes falling closed as you did. You were consumed by the feeling of him and your body was reacting to it in the only way it knew how. 
You felt his hand leave your thigh first, before feeling it wrap around your throat, his long slender fingers wrapping around the curve of your jaw, as he willed you to look at him once more. 
“You keep those pretty little eyes of yours…on me,” he whispered forcefully. There was no room for mistake, you would watch him as he possessed every part of you. He controlled it all, and you’d let him, you’d let him do it forever. 
That's when it all changed. 
He had been sweet seduction, and the thought alone drew you closer….until she came along. Professor. Hawkethorn had never been his match, not the way you were. She didn’t understand him, she didn’t see him for what he truly was. She had fallen trap to his charm, and that was only the surface. You watched it happen, your late night sessions with him faded, he seemingly didn’t need you as much, and he gave not even the slightest inkling why. He said nothing, entertained nothing, did, nothing. His time seemed occupied, but not by you, by her. Selvine Hawkethrone, the new history of magic professor. 
Fine, checkmate. He didn’t want to see you? then you would make him. See you at your fullest, see that you were always there, that you had never left, and more importantly, that you were still very much his to possess. 
He needed to see you, not her. He had no business with her, she wouldn’t do the things that you did for him, you were certain of that. She was only a disruption, a threat to what you guys shared, and she had to go. You wanted to show him your devout loyalty, the extremes that you were willing to go to keep him, to protect him, to *serve* him, and so you would. 
You sat in *his* chair, his office dark and cold, nothing that you minded, as you waited…waited to hear the sound of polished heels clack on in the smooth stone outside the door. You pulse steady as the door opens, a small sliver of light filling the room. 
“Tom?” her soft voice echoed off the shelves of books, as she warily stepped inside. Once the door was shut, you waved your wand lazily, the candles that surrounded his office springing to life with a dull crackle. Her eyes met yours immediately, and they widened almost as if they had seen something they shouldn’t have. She looked fearful. You had a crazed look in your eyes, as you looked over her in silence. She was pathetic, dressed in her best clothes as if she was expecting to meet Professor Riddle, and that's exactly what you had told her, in your little letter. Told her to meet you here, that you desired to see her, all pretending to be your dear dear professor, and she fell for it. Pathetic. 
“You don’t deserve him….” you said, your tone hollow, as you watched her flinch slightly. “Did you really think that he would want you? Send for you? Come on Selvine…you have more sense than that…” you continued, pulling yourself to stand up, walking around the desk, your fingers taunting the flame of the candle. “Professor…you were never going to be his match, his equal…he is destined for great things and you were never going to be the one to help him fulfil that…your just….” You gestured to her with the tip of your wand as if to say something cruel, your face contorted in disgust. “Weak, you're just plain….ordinary…” you said, a mock tone of pity, your face in a frown. 
Selvine said nothing, but reached for her wand slowly, not sure what to expect from you, but you saw it…”ah ah ah, don’t do that..” you warned. You were now pointing your wand directly at her, your grip firm and unwavering. You take a deep breath, tired of this moment…Selvine opened her mouth to say something but you were quick to silence her, ”Save it professor, you shouldn’t touch things that aren’t yours.” 
You flicked your wrist and a green jet of light bursted out of the tip of your wand without remorse. You watched with glassy, transfixed eyes as her lifeless body crumbled to the floor with a thump. The simple unforgivable curse stealing what small pathetic life she had out of her. She was gone. Dead. you lowered your wand to your side, and stood there, slightly shocked by what you had done. 
Tom had slipped out from a dark corner of his office, one where he had stood, watching the entire thing transpire before his eyes. His cold gaze watching you as he approached. Your eyes snapped up to meet him, startled, and unaware that he had been watching the entire time..but that meant that he had seen it, seen the lengths you would go to just for him. You had used the unforgivable curse, for him, something that you had never done before.  
You felt yourself soften, at his appearance, as he stepped over the lifeless body like it was nothing but scum beneath his foot as he approached you. Gripping your chin like a child as he pulled you to meet his gaze. He almost looked pleased, a small sense of approval in his tepid gaze.  
“You can't tell anyone, Professor, I did this for you...she was a threat, and I took care of it, I killed her for you...for us.” you pleaded softly, scared that you had upset him. 
The darkness he lurked in had always been seductive, and when he held out his hand to guide you, how could you say no. You followed, eyes never leaving his, entranced by the beauty of it all, the beauty of the power and knowledge that he possessed. And he was going to share it all with you. It was then that you knew, the devil was real, and you were prepared to do anything for him. “I won’t tell anyone, it's our little secret.”
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whoslibby · 3 months
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you hadn’t of seen price since the two of you breaking up, the main factor was you being twenty one and him being in his early thirties. you hadn’t of seen him in years. but when you came to the bar tonight you saw him.
john price himself, hadn’t of changed a bit as you saw him with his squad mates, your old squad mates. having switched units after the breakup. you wanted to say hello to them but the idea of facing price seemed a little scary.
you walked to the bar as you go and order yourself a drink waiting as gaz walks up to the bar himself. ‘long time no see,’ you say to him, to be polite.
‘likewise, been what, seven years?’ he guessed and you smiled not realising so much time had passed and he still recognised you instantly.
‘how is it? missed me much?’ you teased only for gaz to go a little silent. wary of what he was going to say.
‘we did, price did, a lot,’ he tells you honestly as you let your eyes flicker over to him, who had been staring at you and gaz. he turned away but yet he looked the exact same as he did before, it was crazy to see it.
‘I missed you guys,’ you didn’t say anything about price unsure of if they knew the true reason you switched units.
‘he told us,’ gaz replied seeing how the gears were turning in your head.
‘oh, I didn’t want to by the way,’ you swallowed ‘he said it was for the better.’
gaz didn’t really say anything at that point, you get handed your drink. ‘tell him hi for me,’ was all you could muster up before walking over to a table to go sit down.
cheeky second part
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bluebellowl · 4 months
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thinking some more about demolished animatronic Ingo.
If the player doesn't find Ingo, Emmet will
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kaalypsoooo · 5 months
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@sm-baby I love love LOVED the confession booth comic and a little convo in the showtime gc gave me great inspo to make thissss!
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therealbatgirlishere · 4 months
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Trips in. (Tripin.) p1!
First fic! Kindness or constructive criticism is allowed. No req 🫶🏽
miles morales e-42 aged up! X bb mama reader aged up! miles age: 23 readers age: 22
context: you and Miles had broken up, due to a bad fight (petty argument) with a bad outcome, but anyways It’s been months and you’ve both pretty much moved on…right? Well, after you had finished getting dolled up to have a fun night with you and your girls, you had to drop your son off.. as you were planning to leave you might have been a bit.. interrupted?
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You were chilling, just having finished your makeup and hair, you were going out with your girlfriends so you wanted to look nice as usual. Miles was comin in to take you n his kid,  sure. It’s a bit awks having to still communicate with the baby daddy after you both broke up but hey, at least your boy got a dad in his life. You were packing your sons things, placing clothes in his little bag, spare shoes a toothbrush and more, including a small treat for the road (a twix or stm Wtv u want.) after you had finished, you called your boy over. 
“Zion! ven aquí!” You shouted from upstairs, seconds later you heard the pitter patter of tiny feet coming up the stairs, your child then poking his head out of the door. 
“Mama?” Zion asked, in his cute lil voice you could see his little brown fro poking out as well as his eyes. You smiled, “Zion, you ready to see your papa?” You questioned, lips curling upwards. Zion gave a small nod. Cute. Your 4 year old son waddled his way over to you and gave you a hug, small arms wrapping around your knees and face dig into your legs. You patted your sons head.
 “Alright, I’ll put your bag on so you’re all ready.” You then picked up your son and settled him down on his comfy race car bed. He looked up at you, when you really looked at him, you could see miles, a resemblance between him and you in there…what were you just thinking? No. Stop thinking about that man. Focus. you were halfway through putting on his bag.
Knock knock knock
The sound echoed through the house, you had a feeling it was him, who am I kidding it was him. But, you had to make sure. 
“Zion,  stay here okay? I’ll call you down if papas here.” You said, holding his shoulders and being eye to eye with him before pecking his forehead quick and softly, then making your way downstairs and to the door, you were calm. Why wouldn’t you be? Face blank as you headed to the door.
Click.. creeeakkk
You opened the door, and there he was the 6’3 tall dark skinned male, mini Two-Strand twists,   the same blank expression as always. Wearing a white coloured wife beaters n a black zip up jacket with loose fit jeans, a silver chain and ring on his finger. 
(If ur wondering why he looks different it’s because he’s aged up, so ofc he would get taller and want to switch his hairstyle up etc. dw tho you can still imagine him looking the same ig.)
“…” he stared down at you,  hands in his pockets a lacklustre expression on his face as he then looks behind you. Searching for his son.
Where’s Zion at?” He asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks behind you still. Wow. Rude much? 
The man can’t even be bothered to say hi to the mother of his child.
“Well, Hi to you too. Miles.” You reply, giving him a sarcastic smile before rolling your eyes and turning your head back towards the house.
 “Zion! Your dads here!” You called him over, your son then poked his head out, a grin from ear to ear appeared as he then let out a small giggle. He then ran down the stairs, loud thumping being heard as he made his way down. 
“Ay.” You sucked your teeth in slight annoyance when you saw him running to fast down the stairs, almost tripping but saving himself. 
“Hijo, don’t run down the stairs you’ll fall.” You scolded him, putting a hand on his shoulder as he went to go hug your knees again, nodding a bit then looked up at his dad. 
“He’s jus a kid Chica.” Miles said, looking at you. What an ass. He still had that deadpan expression going on. You shook your head slightly and scowled.
“Just looking out for my son.” You replied, scowling removed as you looked back at him, crossing your arms. Jeez, did he have to be this annoying? You questioned in your head.
“You mean our, son.” He responded, then stared slightly more closely to your face, his eyebrows then knit together. “You wearin makeup? And what’s up with yo fit and hair?” He asked, staring you up and down as he pointed. Does he have to know every single little thing about you? 
This is p1 cause I can’t be bothered writing the rest 😜
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johkku · 23 days
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In my arms she dies…
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Bad Dream (Dazai x Reader)
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Art credits to haru9033 on Twitter (X or whatever the new name is)
Look at my cinnamon bun, my sweet baby. He's safe in my bed y'all! This is 100% self-indulgent because my therapy is until the 18th so I needed a distraction after reading chapter 109.
In which we have a nightmare (chapter 109 is the fucking nightmare) and Dazai comforts us to the best of his abilities. He's trying ok!
Should I write comfort for Sigma? When I get my hands on that rat!
Bye now - Mars ♡
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Your eyes shot open, big and filled to the brim with tears. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, the muscle pumping larger amounts of blood under the silly impression that you’re dying. You were dying. It felt so, at least.
This unbearable tight feeling in your chest, like someone had your heart in their hands and was continuously wringing. Tighter and tighter. Your throat, stiff and dry, made your body feel worse. You could barely get a word out.
Dreams have a funny way of feeling too real and your silly little brain confuses reality with them. But it felt so real.
An overwhelmingly dreadful feeling engulfs your chest.
Breathe. Breathe.
The man beside you sleeping peacefully, or so it looked. Your legs intertwined with each other, and his head rested up against your breast without fully being on top of you. You try to calm yourself down, not wanting to wake your lover. It’s rare he gets any sleep. His own mind a steady home for ugly thoughts.
Gently you push him away from your body and get up, making your way to the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of cold water and chug it down.
“Bella…” Dazai calls from the doorway, his face filled with sleep and his hair messy yet he still managed to look beautiful. He’s always beautiful.
“Oh… Osamu” you said weakly with a smile. “Just got a bit thirsty” you lie. You’ve figured out a while ago that it’s impossible to lie to him. The man was simply too smart.
Dazai smiled and approached you, his hands finding homage on your waist. “Bad dream?” he asked and leaned down holding you close. He rubbed his cheek against yours.
You nod, “I can’t hide anything from you huh?” his grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly. “No.”
He hums and leads you back to your bedroom. “Come, sit” he sits down on the bed leaning against the headboard and pulls you down onto his lap, “Tell me about it” His voice low and gentle. He radiates a certain comfort, or maybe it was because you’ve grown to love him so dearly that you naturally seek comfort from him.
Dazai places a kiss on your forehead, his hand rubbing your back trying to soothe you.
“Osamu…I…” You take a deep breath, “you… you died” your voice breaks and the tears roll down your cheeks. He brings his other hand up to your cheek, wiping away your tears. “I know it’s just a dream, but it felt too real and-and” you bury your face into the crook of his neck. His scent working as a grounding method, you breathe him in deeply. He smells like home.
Your home.
“I just don’t want to lose you” the tears kept flowing and your voice trembles as you speak.
“Bella I’m here” Dazai pulls you closer to his body as if to prove his point. “Right here my love” he leans down and kisses you. The kiss is slow, long, sloppy and each passing second, he presses himself closer into you. “I’m not going anywhere” he whispers against your lips.
He knows he’s contradicting himself. He knows. He knows he sounds like a hypocrite because he’s always mentioning suicide and asking you to die alongside him but right now. Right now, seeing you like this, crying and trembling he feels his heart breaks to pieces. And crying because of a stupid dream of him dying makes it even worse.
He knows it’s selfish but how he’s happy. Because he feels so loved right now. You’re crying over him, even if it’s just his dream self, you’re still crying for him. His heart does a little flutter. Still his main priority is comforting you, he’s no stranger to nightmares and you’re always there to comfort him when he’s bothered by his own ugly thoughts and dreams.
But Dazai felt so helpless, and he uttered out the most cliché words, but he couldn’t help it. Not when his love is trembling in fear right in his arms. 
“Samu you” you exhales, trying to find your composure but every time you think you’ve stopped crying the minute you look into his eyes the tears start coming again. It was horrible, the image of your nightmare just replaying in your head.
Wrapping your hands around him you hug him tightly, you’re afraid he may not be able to breathe so you release it a bit. “Don’t fucking die” you threaten and Dazai can’t help but smile. This woman.
“Bella sshh” he seeks out your lips, kissing you again. “M’here, right here, yeah?” he pulls back and hold your face with both hands and rests his forehead against yours.
You’ve calmed down a bit, forehead resting against his. “Osamu, just” you found it hard to speak. Your body slightly trembling, seeking your lover’s touch.  “Don’t move, just hold me…please”
He wraps his arms tighter around your form, you snuggle into him and close your eyes.
Dazai found himself humming softly and patting your back in a comforting manner. He kept doing so until he felt your light snore and the slower heartbeat. The steady thump thump thump comforting him.
“I love you very much and I won’t leave” he whispered and placed a kiss on the crown of your head.
.
That night Dazai Osamu stayed awake and kept his lover tightly secured in his arms, looking over and comforting them.
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mrsrileywrites · 11 days
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Hi! I read lots of your work and im SO IN LOVE!!! Like I absolutely fell so hard for papa simon 😭😭 i wanna give him a babyy! But i was wondering, how would pregnancy be like with his child. I mean bro is HUGE so his baby would probably be not only pretty big and probably weight a little bit more too than an average newborn. If its okay with you would it be possible for you to write a little story maybe add a little bit of angst? (Idk like argument about something that made the reader really sad?) but please a happy ending 🥹
Feel free to ignore if thats not your thing or just not feeling comfortable writing about it!! LOVE YOUU!! Btw sorry for any misspelling English is not my first language.
First of, as a not native English speaker, your English is perfect.
And second, thank you for your kind words, it really encourages me to keep writing and also boosts my ego 😁
You asked in such a nice and respectful way so I really want to make you happy.
Now here's the thing, I'm an adult with lots of responsibilities and sometimes adulting makes me tired, like last night when I was trying to finish this but I fell asleep and I woke up this morning to find half of my writing disappeared, it just vanished 🥲
But I'll give you this to munch on and I promise I'll finish this before the end of the week.
I hope this is what you were expecting... Enjoy 🫶
A little over 700 words.
_______________________
You stood in front of the sink of your bathroom, holding a pregnancy test on your shaky hands, two little red lines staring right back at you.
How did this happen? How would you tell him? He doesn't want kids, he made it clear from the beginning and you accepted it without a fuss, that's why you've been taking your pills diligently every day, you didn't forget one, did you?... No, you know you didn't, how did this happen?
"You okay there, love?" Simon knocks on the bathroom door and you jump in surprise, like a child that's been caught red handed.
"Y-yes Si, j-just give me a minute... I'll be right there." Your period is about three weeks late so you bought a pregnancy test, your best friends advice, it wouldn't hurt, it was just to make sure, you certainly were not expecting this.
You hid the test on the cabinet under the sink and washed your face before coming out.
It's been a week since your ob-gyn confirmed a six weeks pregnancy and you still haven't found the courage nor the right time to break the news to Simon, so when he gets a call from Price to get deployed on a long mission you fear it would be too late by the time he comes back.
One month at most he said when he kissed you goodbye almost two months ago, you are 16 weeks into your pregnancy and your bump is starting to show, which only adds to your anxiety, between the morning sickness and your hormones being all over the place you still haven't figured out how to tell him.
As you ponder how to break the news to him, you realize that a simple phone call wouldn't suffice. With him stationed on the other side of the globe, risking his life every day, you hesitate to burden him further. At the same time, you know it wouldn't be ideal for him to return home and suddenly find you waddling around with a baby bump.
So you stay quiet and whenever he calls and asks why you sound so exhausted you blame it on your job, you say you are just stressed out, and he promises he'll take care of you once he's back, he'll relieve you from the stress the way you like it, the way only he knows how to.
You are laying on the couch wearing Simon's t-shirt, stuffing yourself with your favorite ice cream and watching trash tv when you hear fumbling outside your front door before it swings open, a very rugged Simon stands in the threshold , you curse under your breath, he didn't say he was coming home the last time you talked on the phone three days ago so you stand there and look at him overly conscious of the bump hiding under his t-shir and you thank the heavens he is a big man, you think the loose fit of his T-shirt would buy you time, your ice cream long forgotten in the coffee table.
He walks towards you with long strides as he pulls his balaclava over his head running his fingers through his messy hair and you shy away, you step back and freeze, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights, he stops in his tracks and tilts her head, his eyebrows pinch as his eyes linger on your midsection and you know you're fucked, he noticed, how wouldn't he, and you hope and pray he'd say something, anything, but he doesn't, he turns on his heels ready to walk out.
"Simon wait!" You call for him and he stops, his hand lingers on the door knob, "I can explain, please just hear me out" your voice cracks and you wish you had been brave enough to tell him before, you know about his childhood and his trauma, you know his struggles and why he didn't want children in the first place, he trusted you and you broke his trust, you deceived him from the moment you found out you were pregnant and decided to keep it to yourself because you were too scared to trust him back.
"Explain what?" He shouts turning around and walking towards you again, your hands fly to your belly instinctively, protective. You lower your head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.
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sinning-23 · 4 months
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Fishbowl (Buggy x Siren!Reader)
I hope you guysss like this one lol it’s been in the works for a minute and is one of the last in the siren/mermaid series! Also sorry for any spelling errors! This one with be a two part red and definitely some angst? Or at least I’ll try lol angst isn’t exactly my specialty!
Anyway, ENJOY!
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Your nails claw at the glass, leaving scrapes and indents in their wake. After being captured by these pirates, you were transported to a large glass dome on wheels. You were panicking, the screeching from your echolocation making passerby’s of the crew cover their ears and double over.
Why you? You hadn't even been by the ship...they just pulled up to the shore of your home island firing cannons as your sisters swam for cover. You directed them, helping them escape only to be grabbed by the hair an dragged to the shore before you could make your escape.
Any mermaid knew what happened when they were captured.... fin scales used for jewelry, the rich meat of your tails used in rare dishes. The your teeth would be grinder down to pearl like where’s, drilled for necklaces. Nausea builds in the pit of your stomach. This was it.
He approached you, lifting you by your hair as your gills opens and close at the side of your neck, an unpleasant, wet sounding “gasp” filling the silence.
“What a treat. My audience is gonna love you.”
You swallow hard, native tongue sliding off with venom. He sneers at this.
“Too bad I can’t understand you sweets.” Buggy chuckles.
He’s got your arm in an uncomfortable grip as he drags you across the sand and flings you into another crewmate. I’m some kind of silent agreement the carry you across the sandy beach to the temporary tank. Your stomach turns, glittery tears falling down your cheeks.
Currently, you keep clawing, scratching, and screeching, and the glass begins to crack at this latest noise. You needed to get out. But before you can fix your voice to scream again, he enters.
"Please shut your mouth sweetheart. You're not going anywhere.” He explains with a roll of his eyes.
You speak again, and of course, he can understand but it’s something along the lines of,
“I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”
_____4 months______
You scratched a tally for each day you were there, the fishbowl now adorned with a stand and a pretty label in fancy blue ribbon and gold paint. He forced you to act in his shows, putting your gifted set of pipes “to good use”. Even though your siren song was powerful, its intended purpose seemed to fade away.
Every song you sang, the sorrow of being captured poured into your notes, making the audience ever more mournful than they already were. Your songs and performances almost always ended in tears now, Buggy’s crew opting to wear earplugs in fear they’d end their lives then and there if they heard one more melancholic tune.
Buggy, on the other hand, was beginning to grow ever impatient. The first two months of shows had gone just fine! His crew and audience were so enamored by your beauty and sound. Now it was just pitiful. But even though it pissed him off his own decisions led to failure, he couldn’t help but want your gorgeous set of pipes to himself.
Often, he’s caught himself in a daze, wondering what it feels like to have you sing him to sleep, your hands caressing his face with a smile and he pulls into a sense of security. Fat chance though…
Besides, you hadn’t even really been properly introduced since that day he surprise adopted you(kidnapped). Perhaps he should make conversation? He shakes his head at the thought, sitting in his designated chair, just watching.
Your scales flash and flicker sparkles of light in the empty tent. Maybe that’s why he captured you in the first place? You were beautiful. And his did he love seeing those pretty glittery tears roll down your cheeks when you’d first met.
A smile plays over his lips when you catch him staring, your eyes narrowing for a moment before you press against the glass, blowing bubbles at him from under the water. You say something he can’t quite hear.
In a curious haze, he stands, walking up to your fishbowl, looking at each tally you’d engraved into the glass.
“Why won’t you let me go?” You hum, the water making your voice somehow sound prettier that ever, the slight muffle making him hum.
“Because I like sad songs.” He jokes, circling your glass prison.
How typical of him, to joke in a serious situation like this, well serious to you at least. He really takes time to observe you, the way your scales seem to be some sort of opalescent chrome.
How your hair floats around your face, your gills opening and closing ever so slightly. He admires the smaller fins adorning your spine and forearms. He wonders if you’re insecure about them.
“Sing for me.”
It’s a demand, and before you can protest, he’s already back in his chair, watching, resting his head against his closed fist.
Even though you feel obligated, your voice and song feel softer now. Almost as if the small interaction with the captain had only slightly lifted your spirit.
And somehow your hymn didn’t seem so dismal.
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angebluee · 2 months
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!CW: mild blood !
Some older Wolfwood art
Edit: i forgot to add a warning
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This is based off like chapter 1 or 2 of the infamous volume 10 of Trimax lmao.
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But yuhhh I made it tristamp ww version
Also happy Wolfwood Wednesday
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gatitties · 4 months
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Hello again my little butterfly 🦋✨
I came to place another order if that's ok! so, the scenario is a One Piece AU, where YN has an arranged marriage with Shanks, who is one of the richest men in town, but even so, YN decides to run away on her wedding day and throw herself off a bridge, but she can't, they find her and the family manages to bring her back to the wedding, Shanks is a man very much in love with YN, the moment he sees the sadness in YN's eyes when she walks up the aisle and puts the ring on her finger Shanks, he decides to conquer her and make her the happiest wife in the world! ( PS: Shanks is in a desperate situation when he learns that his beloved literally decided to throw herself off a bridge rather than stay with him, even little sad :( )
─Shanks x wife!reader
─Summary: you didn't want to be part of that ceremony, but you're not brave enough to run away either
─Warnings: slight mention of suicide attempt, modern AU
Oh hi hi love!! 🫶🏻🦋 you really like angst 😳
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You ignored the perplexed looks of people, without stopping or thinking about a second option, you gripped the thin white fabric of your wedding dress harder so as not to trip over it, your shoes had long since disappeared so you could run more comfortably. You didn't want this, you didn't want to marry an unknown guy, no one thought about your feelings? It's not something your parents have the right to play with and you weren't going to let them ruin your life for financial convenience.
The moment adrenaline started to increase when you saw how you were now being persecuted, probably due to the absence in the ceremony that was taking place in the nearby church, you felt bad for the man you had been engaged to, since it wasn't his fault either and you didn't even know him enough to determine that he was a horrible person, but this decision was too hasty and you definitely didn't agree to this.
With your heart in your throat you ran until you tripped over your own sore feet, your breathing accelerated even more when you heard shouts of your name, taking courage again you stood up with a new impetus, although when you noticed how the distance between your pursuers was shortening more and more, your brain began to draw an extreme line in your thoughts.
Would it hurt? Could you die? Well, you were going to see for yourself what it felt like to jump off a bridge just to avoid facing an unwanted fate.
You quickly climbed onto the thick railing, stabilizing yourself standing on it, the next few seconds felt like a blur, like a part of memory that was difficult to remember, the fear of possible death and the indecision that comes with taking a long time to jump into the void made one of the guys chasing you caught you before you did something crazy.
The next thing you know after that, you were back in one of the private rooms of the church, being yelled at by your mother while your father looked on disapprovingly, you didn't care, nothing mattered to you at that moment, you let them go back to put on your makeup, you let them put new shoes on you and they changed the dirty surface fabric of your dress as if you were a doll, lifeless.
The ceremony returned to its course, Shanks waited awkwardly all this time at the altar, and when he saw you appear next to him his heart shattered, you weren't even looking at him, your eyes were lost somewhere far away in this unwanted reality, you lacked any kind of expression. He knew it, he knew how you felt, and yet he felt a little selfish for wanting to be your husband, for wanting to love you unconditionally, this marriage may be arranged, but he admired every drop of courage you poured out to prevent this event, every anger and every fierce response you gave to the first meetings between both families.
"Now… husband and wife, you can kiss each other."
You were both so absorbed in your own thoughts that you barely heard the priest's last words. Shanks was the first to step forward, holding your waist slowly as if he were asking permission and asking if it was okay to do so. You didn't move an inch, your eyes were still lost even when he sealed your fate with a cold kiss devoid of love, at least, lacking on your part.
Shanks knew it wouldn't be easy, that you weren't going to trust, that he wasn't going to receive tons of affection, even looks, he knew you were in a delicate state, after all, you'd rather almost kill yourself than get married.
You didn't bother with his emotions, you didn't bother to ask about his tastes, his hobbies or how his day had been, you just spent the days dead, repeating your routine, your life remained the same in a way, a few more numbers in the account. but in exchange of what? Your freedom and decision. You were hurt, you had been damaged by your own parents, your emotional wounds would not heal overnight and you would refuse to show a modicum of affection until you recovered.
Shanks knew that he would have to sleep alone for months, that an empty house would await him, that all his praise and gifts would be quickly discarded, but it doesn't matter, maybe you didn't look for him or you didn't want him, but as your husband, he would do everything he could to at least help you cope with the situation, he really loves you, but it won't be easy to win your affection because you never wanted this.
Your heart began to heal over time, it took a long time, you decided to completely break the relationship with your family, although before they were the only ones you could turn to, Shanks showed you that he would be there, that despite not being the husband that you chose as such, made you trust him, made you feel loved again.
He wasn't a bad man, he wasn't the most wonderful person in the world either, but he proved to be enough for you to stop feeling that emptiness inside your heart, step by step he managed to break the walls that you built around your emotions, Shanks turned out to be something unexpected in your life, someone you didn't think would be so important and he was able to grant some peace, some happiness back into your life.
Maybe you are not yet ready to accept that he is your husband, but you slowly began to meet someone you could voluntarily fall in love with.
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dreamland03 · 9 months
Text
WARNING: mention of sex like once, drinking, mention of trauma, bad self image, 
It’s been a rough couple of weeks between you and Bakugo.
The little bump that you and katsuki have run into has been making you guys be distance towards each other. The laughs were barely there, the sex was a barely there, and the connection was fading a little. It scared the shit out of both of you. All because Bakugo was not ready to say “ I love you”.
You know Bakugo’s  love language is acts of service. And you do see how much he loves you through this, but you operate a little differently. Words of affirmative was yours. You liked hearing how much you mean to someone, how much they miss you, when someone is thinking about you. You especially loved hearing how much someone loved you. You couldn’t help it, hearing how someone loved you made you thrive in every relationship. The reassurance and validation helped you thrive.
So with Bakugo unable to say it after 7 months of the relationship, made things shift. You told Mina about the issue and she said that we both should go to therapy. It was a weird idea at first for both you and Bakugo, but because you guys were willing to fight for this relationship, you guys agreed.
The first couple of sessions were helpful, but emotionally horrible. Unpacking childhood trauma, past relationship trauma, why he wouldn’t say it, how if made you feel. It was a mess to say the least. And after every session it just felt like you guys were growing farther and farther away from each other. You wondered how you guys got here, the goal was to get closer.
You tried to be understanding of where Bakugo was coming from. It wasn’t because he didn’t love you, cause he did. He said that he wasn’t comfortable saying I love you just yet because of his past relationship. He told his ex that he had loved her 3 months into their relationship, only to find out that she had been cheating on him the whole time during the relationship. So he was scared and didn’t want to waste him saying he loved you only for you to turn around a betray him. Understandable but you still felt like shit. It didn’t stop the thoughts of how unlovable you must be for him not to say it to you. It had gotten to a point where you kind of felt disgusted with yourself. You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. But you understand that he’s not ready, but how long can you hang on?
Weeks go by and you guys try to keep everything as normal as possible. Small talking, hugging each other when you guys get home, cooking for each other, running errands together, etc. Although you both can feel how off everything was.
One day Bakugo goes out with Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, Midoriya, and Todorooki . It was boys night for them. So you knew bakugo would have a couple of drink and you were gonna pick him up. You waited around for the call to come pick him up. As you were watching someone Animal Planet show, you get a call from Midoriya.
“Hey y/n, I think Bakugo is ready to go.” He laughs lightly.
“ okay I’m on my way. How drunk is he?” You say with a giggle in your voice.
“I think this is the drunkest I’ve ever seen him.”
“ wait, really?” You said a little shocked. Bakugo’s not the type to get fully drunk. Tipsy? Yes. Drunk? Once in a blue moon.
“ yeah, he keeps asking for you so I think he’s ready to go home.”
“ Okay, I’ll be there in 10.”
You paused the show, grabbed your keys, put your shoes on, and you headed out the door.
You pulled up to the bar that they were at. You called Midoriya to bring Bakugo out and made sure the seat was at a comfortable position for him. You see Kirishima come out and Midoriya with Bakugo leaning on his shoulder. Kirishima opens the door for Midoriya to put Bakugo in.
“ Good luck with him.” Kirishima laughs.
You smile at him and Midoriya, wishing them a goodnight and for them to get home safe.
You look over at Bakugo in there passenger seat, face light pink form the alcohol with a big smile on his face, looking at you
“Hi, baby.” As soon as you said that he’s leaning over console and hugging you. You hug him back and laugh.
“I missed you y/n. I miss you y/n. You smell so good and do you know how beautiful you are? You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He squeezes you tighter.
“Okay baby, thank you.” You say with a laugh. “Let go home, boo.”
“No you dont understand y/n, like I would die for you. Im so devoted to you. You’ve been so far from me and I miss you. I don’t want to lose you. Im sorry for being a dumbass and making you feel like you don’t mean anything to me. I love you y/n. I really do.”
Looking at him shocked that you’ve heard the words you’ve been dying to hear from him. The smell of alcohol makes you come back, he’s drunk. It’s his drunk thoughts not his sober thoughts. But the feeling of relief and joy that swells in you over looks it. With a big smile on your face, you kissed Bakugo’s cheek “I love you too.” Squeezing him and basking in this moment that will pass. Taking it all in. “Let’s go home, my love.” Bakugo pulls away and sits back in his seat. The whole drive felt better between you two then it had in weeks. With soft music playing and holding hands the whole drive back, it felt lighter.
The morning came and Bakugo remember nothing and you remembered everything. You woke up feeling  better about yourself and about your and Bakugo’s relationship. You felt secured and loved. He loves you. You saw Bakugo sound asleep next to you and decided to start making breakfast for when he woke up. 30 minutes later you hear foot steps, Bakugo comes into the kitchen with a grumpy and hurt look on his face.
“Good morning.” You smiled at him and handed him water. “Breakfast is ready.”
“Thank you.” He sits at the table.
“ Did you have a good time last night?” You ask.
“ To be honest I don’t remember anything. How was I the drive home?” He grumbled.
“You were great.” You say with a little laugh
Bakugo looks at you suspiciously, knowing something is up. “What did I do?”
“Nothing.” Looking down at you plate, your smile growing bigger.
“Spill y/n.”
You sign, knowing he’ll be pushing all day.
“Well you said something and it was a little funny, but it’s nothing serious.” Not wanting him to freak out.
“What did I say?”
Still looking at the plate, you confessed. “You dropped the L bomb.”
Bakugo’s eyes widen and he sucks in a breath.
“And you talked about how pretty I am and how you don’t want to lose me.”
“Oh”
“Yeah”
Silence falls. Bakugo clears his throat “come here.” Confused, you get out of your seat and walk to where he is on the opposite of the table.
“Sit.” He pats his lap. You sit down and lay your head on his chest while his arms wrap around you.
“Look Im sorry for everything. I been wanting to say it, but I’ve been scared. Ive never been this in love with someone before. I thought I was in love before but you made me realize I’ve never experience it until now. I miss you. I miss us. I love you y/n. Im so in love with you y/n.”
You can hear his heartbeat speed up. You look up at him and kiss his lips. A gentle kiss filled with much love.
You pull back. “I understand. We’re in this together, forever. I love you Katsuki. Im in love with you.”
Bakugo smiles softly and lets go of the breath he’s been holding. It feels good to feel the connection coming back.
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Yall this is ass, but I wanted to write 🙃. Any mistake forgive me 😭. Like always any tags or warnings I need to add let me know please. 💤🫧💗
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whoslibby · 2 months
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highschool sweethearts was always what people called you and price. it wasn’t half wrong but it wasn’t right either. these days you were anything but sweethearts to each other. being with each other for nearly fifteen years and going into the same career meant all you did was spend time with each other.
some may think it was adorable but that wasn’t the entire truth of it, price was a protective man. it was in his nature and the way he grew up meant that he wanted you to be a stay at home wife for him. you didn’t comply wanting you’re own job.
it wasn’t too bad he still kept his eye on you, until you got put on his task force. when you’d occasionally get a few cuts or scratches, it had him screaming. he was a calm man but the fact he couldn’t of saved you from something as minor as a scratch had him pissed at his own actions.
the two of you would grow distant towards each other, you could be in the same bed every night but facing opposite directions, barely touching.
that fateful day when you had been killed in action. everything broke in him; that was his breaking point. he blamed himself for months until gaz encouraged him to go to therapy he had felt terrible. your last months on earth he had been nothing but short tempered and distant.
he hated how people would ask ‘how the mrs was,’ because he didn’t have the heart to tell people his wonderful highschool sweetheart had passed and he was everything but a sweetheart to you in your final months.
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