#HURT/COMFORT MAKES ME /sO WEAK/ YOU PEOPLE DON'T HAVE AN IDEA

[rosenclaws]

Hi again! 👋

I'm throwing another request at ya since you did such an awesome job with the last fic idea I requested. (Thank you again for that)

This time with the OG Logan and all his kitty cat hair glory lol.

The reader has similar powers to scarlet witch. Like telekinetic powers, levitation, etc. Can it be a scenario where she loses connection (like how wanda feels connected to vision) with Logan and thinks that he's dead and she just snaps. The villians who claims they killed him mock her and she pulls the move like wanda did in Endgame where she's like you took everything from me, and the villians don't know who she is and she's like you will and just goes full beast mode on the villians involved.

Bonus, Logans alive, he just was knocked out real bad and sees the whole fight happen and was like wow I love her and they reunite and it ends all fluffy with a kiss, maybe a proposal? Lol 😘

Heartbeat || Logan Howlett x Reader

a/n: This was such a great request and I have to say I really loved writing this. I did. go a little angstier than I thought I would and its darker than I expected it to turn out but I really hope you like it. Your mutant name is firefly. Also. I still haven't seen the movies so I apologize if its not accurate to how the X-Men work or anything im sorry sdakfjl;

warnings: fake out death, violence, blood, killing, angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, the reader goes on a rampage, he calls you honey, reader almost dies, creepy ass villian guy.

wc: 2.3k

"You alright there honey?" Logan's hand gently rests on your shoulder.

You're staring blankly out the jet window, watching the clouds pass by as you ready yourself for what is pretty much a suicide mission. A whole organization that had been hiding underground, dedicated to eradicating mutants.

They've studied you. Planned. They know things, your strengths, your weaknesses. A few people had infiltrated their base and what they found...It made you shiver. Photos and articles and deeply personal information.

They had photos of you and Logan.

It made you paranoid sometimes. Like they were always watching. So you had to put a stop to it as soon as possible. You didn't go on missions often. Your powers were, quite destructive. Powerful yes but not always needed but the X-Men needed everyone they could. You take a deep breath and try to smile convincingly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Logan snorts and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're lying right through those pretty teeth." There's an air of fear in the jet. You all know what might happen if you don't succeed.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. Promise."

"Yeah they're no match for the Wolverine and Firefly." Scott teases making Logan roll his eyes. Scott just loved messing with Logan, taking any jab he can to lighten the mood.

"Can it bub." He turns his attention back to you, happy to see a small smile on your face. Logan takes your hand and places it on his chest. Your hands glow as you reach deep and feel his heartbeat.

"See?" You take a deep breath as you listen.

Sometimes you got too much into your own head. Your powers were tricky and when you got overwhelmed Logan always knew how to calm you down. The world around you fades as you focus on the beat of his heart. The rise and fall of his chest. He was your rock. The jet jolts and Logan holds onto you as you stumble.

"Think I got time for a quick smoke before we head out?"

"No you do not." Storm walks up to the two of you, she shoos Logan away who reluctantly leaves.

"We're landing in 10 minutes, are you ready Firefly?" You take a deep breath and nod.

You stare at your hands as you little particles of orange start to sprout from your fingers. You had control of your powers most of the time but they were still a work in progress but you knew that this mission was important so you couldn't afford to lose control.

Once the jet lands Scott and Storm tell everyone the plan again. This was for the future of mutant kind and there was a lot at stake. Each of you had a small usb drive that would corrupt and destroy any files still left in their system. Infiltrate and destroy all of their plans.

"Do you feel like pancakes?" Logan asks as you step out of the jet.

"What?" He shrugs and stands a little taller.

"There's this diner, open all night. Thought that after you'd want to get something to eat." You know what he's doing. Trying to make you feel better, to believe that you'll make it out alive. You can't die if you have a plans.

"Sure Logan, pancakes sounds great."

"Then it's a date." Logan heads in the opposite direction of you.

He's part of the brute force while you slip into the shadows. Still it pains you to be away from him. A storm rumbles in the distance and you hurry off to your position, afraid of what was to come. Still you keep going.

This was going to end tonight.

"Shit!" You hiss as a bullet wizzes past you.

Things had went to shit pretty quickly and it's an all out brawl now. With a wave of your hands soldiers go flying to who knows where. You sneak behind one and infiltrate his mind. Using his fears to show you exactly where the main computer was being held. He falls to the ground and you step over him as you sneak inside.

It was getting bad, you could feel it. Feel the tiredness and pain your friends were feeling. The guards fall one by one as you make it to the center console room. Exhaustion was creeping up on you. Your powers exerting every bit of strength you had. Still you knew what had to be done.

You plugged in the usb drive and watched as the system crashes, deleting every single bit of information they could have on the X-Men. Then you slowly envelop the console with your powers, crushing it until there's nothing left. You press your finger to your ear, alerting the team you had wiped their main computer in the comms. There's nothing but static on the other end.

"Guys?" You feel your heart start to race as you run out of the building.

"Hello? Anyone? Storm, Jean, Logan?" Still nothing.

Suddenly you feel this horrible, horrible pit in your chest. You stop in your tracks. Blood running cold as terrible feeling washes over you. Logan. You can't explain it, but somethings wrong.

"Logan!" You plead into your comms for him to respond.

You burst through the doors and back onto the field. Your breath hitching as you see the destruction in front of you. For any normal villain's they would have been nothing in the way of you guys, but these people knew exactly who you were. Exactly how to stop each and every one of you.

It was a losing battle.

Your eyes dart around as you send blast after blast, trying to help but with every move of your hands you feel weaker. Suddenly you hear a loud yell, you turn around to see Logan driving his claws deep into the chest of someone. You feel relieved seeing him still standing.

"Logan!" You call out to him and he looks your way. There's blood splattered all over his face and he looks worried. He runs towards you as fast as he could go.

"Get down!" He roars.

BANG

It all happens so slowly.

You look to your side to see a man with a gun aimed right at you. The exhaustion plagues your brain as you react too late. You see Logan running at you. A desperate look in his face as he jumps at you. You hit the ground and so does Logan. He rolls away and lays still. To your horror there's a bullet right in his forehead.

"Logan!" You screech.

You scramble to his side. He's not getting up. Why is he not getting up? He heals. He should be fine. His healing factor should have kicked in so why isn't he getting up. You reach out to him but someone grabs your leg before you can. Your hands dig into the ground as you're yanked back. Dragged to the center of the field.

"Get the fuck off me!" You kick your feet and scream loudly.

Your hands glow but you're face is shoved to the ground, a foot on your neck slowly stopping the air from entering your lungs. You can feel your strength draining. You try and use your powers but you can't.

"He's dead sweetheart. Think we don't know about that neat little regeneration of his?" The man above you laughs and you start to feel sick.

"We're not fucking stupid." He takes his foot off your neck and you gasp for air. He reaches down and grabs you by the neck, forcing you to turn and look at Logan.

"Where's that healing of his now?" Logan remains unmoving, you try and reach out to him. Using any bit of your power to search for him but nothing. You can't feel anything. Tears start to fall as you let out an anguished cry.

"I thought you were supposed to be strong? We heard so much about you and now look at you." He lets go of your neck and you crawl to your knees. Clutching your chest as sobs wrack your body.

"Don't worry though," You hear a gun cock behind you.

"It'll be over soon. Go ahead and say hi to your little boyfriend for us."

You look up at him and feel nothing but an overwhelming amount of pure rage. How fucking dare they. They threatened your life, your friends, your world. They took your peace. They took Logan. The love of your life, he died saving you. Your hands glow bright orange, your chest heaving as you glare at the man standing in front of you.

"Oh look at that, looks like you can do something." He sneers. You chuckle darkly. Tilting your head to the side you smile. Your eyes start to glow as you become strangely calm.

"You took everything from me...So I'm going to take it all from you." You scream as a large wave of energy bursts from your body.

A wave knocking back everyone in your radius including your team. The line of friend and foe blur as you go on a rampage. Disposing of anyone who came after you with ease.

"Firefly!" Storm calls out to you, you were becoming uncontrollable. No one can even get near you. Jean tries to get into your head but you block her out.

No one can get to you now.

They took him from you and you were going to make him pay. You stalk to the ones that were foolish enough to stay. Though they were crawling away now, pleading for mercy. It almost makes you laugh. They were showing no mercy when they planned to eradicate you and your friends. Why would you show them any now?

"That's enough!" Scott fires a beam to stop you in your tracks.

"They're surrendering." He reaches out to you but you push him away.

"I don't care." You snarl. You raise your hand and lift the stragglers up in the air. You're about to slam them to the ground but someone grabs onto your wrist.

"Stop!" The grip is tight as they spin you around. The glow in your eyes fade as you take in who stands in front of you.

"Logan?" You whisper. You try and shake your hand free but he doesn't budge.

"Let them go, honey." He says gently.

"They tried to kill you." You feel the fire come back but Logan does everything he can to calm it.

"But they didn't. They can't hurt us anymore." Still you don't move. He loosens the grip on your hand, taking your other hand and placing it on his chest.

"I'm alive, just feel." Slowly you lower your hand, softly letting the men fall as the rest of the team deal with them as you collapse into Logan's arms.

"I thought you were dead!” You cried. You rest your head against his chest, hand still gripping his suit.

“You weren’t moving and I, I couldn’t feel you.” He cradles the back of your head and holds you tight.

“I’m so sorry I scared you honey, I’m alive. Just knocked out for a little bit.” Logan feels horrible.

Maybe if he had been a little quicker you both would be okay and you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of that. He grabs your face and kisses you with an intensity you've never felt. It's sloppy and desperate but full of life. He's alive. He's telling you that he's alive.

When you pull apart there's still tears streaming down your face. Still so overwhelmed from everything. He lets you cry into his chest as he soothes you. Wiping away the tears as they come.

"I love you so much." He whispers so only you can hear.

The rest of the team watch but don’t say a word. Letting the two of you sit there as long as you need. Soon your tears dry up but you don’t let go of Logan.

It’s a quiet walk to the jet. Everyone is absolutely drained. You lean on Logan's shoulder as he draws shapes on your thigh with his thumb. Your hand rests on his wrist, pressing into his pulse just to make sure he's still breathing.

"Pancakes." You say quietly. Logan looks over in slight confusion.

"Huh?"

"You promised me pancakes," You crack a tired smile.

Logan stares at you for a moment before laughing in disbelief. The weight of what happened finally catching up to him. How close he was to losing it all, how close you were to complete destruction. The toll it's taken on everyone in the jet. The last thing on anyone's mind mind should be doing anything other than sleeping for a week yet pancakes feel like the best fucking idea ever.

"Yeah we can get pancakes honey, as many as you want." He kisses your forehead and places his chin on your head.

"With chocolate chips?" You ask playfully.

"I'll make 'em put in extra. Just for you." You hum happily as you lean in closer to him.

It's still a long flight back and one by one everyone starts to fall asleep. Soon it's just the rumbling of the plane. You look up to see Logan has fallen asleep, you watch his chest rise and fall. Just for a little bit.

He grumbles in his sleep, twitching slightly. There's a scowl on his face as he starts to shift more. Quietly you tap your fingers against his head, taking away his nightmares. He stops moving, relaxing under your touch. You smile softly as you slide your hand down to his chest.

Closing your eyes you feel his heart again. In the back of your mind swirls the horrible memories of today but you choose to ignore them for now. You close your eyes and allow yourself to rest. The steady beat of his heart acting as the perfect lullaby.

Just a steady reminder that everythings okay, there's nothing to fear anymore.

Thump

Thump

Thump

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Just Friends (König x F!Reader)

How to Escape the Friendzone 2/4 (Word count 5.3 k)

Summary: König is a horny, creepy killing machine obsessed with a shy, kind reader who has a raging knife kink.

Tags/warnings: 🔞 Eventual smut, eventual violence, angst, dark romance, canon divergence. Crack treated seriously. Yandere undertones, implied stalking, panty stealing, major character death, size kink, voyeurism, possessive sex, twisted, fluffy feelings. Loner boy/gentle girl dynamic. Protective!Obsessive!Top!König. Reader works as a cleaner at the base. She is described to have hair and prefers to wear dresses off work. Not safe or sane but mostly consensual.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Massive arms go about her as she's pulled against a lean chest. It's an awkward, tense hug. He smells of open air and coppice, with a whiff of acrid sweat on top as she lays her head somewhere between the bumps of muscle of a warm chest.

Not even the body heat makes him appear more human: his heart is not pounding as fast as she thought it would after making it clear he would score some tonight.

She fears she's dealing with a sociopath. Might even be a psychopath.

"Are you still afraid?"

"I don't know." Her breaths are everything but steady as she inhales the intoxicating scent of a madman.

"Don't be scared. I will only hurt those who wish to hurt you."

His pledge renders her weak; it makes her legs shake. She gets far more than she bargained for when pulling him in to give her a little late-night comfort.

Friends with benefits is a situation bad enough, but this is not okay. The guy's fixation seems boundless, and if she tries to wriggle out of this… relationship and starts seeing someone else, it might end up in König scrubbing the potential future love interest's guts off his shoes.

And something in the idea isn't even wholly appalling.

Good God…

"I don't want you to hurt anyone," she whispers like it isn't his day-to-day job – to hurt and kill people. She is on the verge of collapsing to the floor and stays upright only because he holds her in authoritarian embrace.

"Little angel, it's what I do." He releases her only enough to bow his head and look into her eyes. His stare betrays slight distaste. Those eyes are calm mirrors of how can someone be so naive.

"You come to me if someone is mean to you," he orders in a stern voice that makes her feel faint.

"Alright," she breathes a fluent little lie. He's satisfied with her answer, however, and presses her head back against him with effortless control.

She imagines him knifing someone with a listless stare from sparing a glance her way; she fantasizes him strangling some chauvinistic moron in the darkness after they have been "mean" to her. Quickening breaths betray her sick thoughts to him because he pulls her even closer. She can feel the enormous cock pressing against her body with a promise of violence.

"Angel… I wish you would stop teasing me."

"Yeah?" Her laugh is restrained, and her heart is racing inside her chest – like it's some kind of a good idea to have a heart attack while a murderous psycho turning into a boyfriend is in the same room with her. "Where's the fun in that…?"

"Do you always tease men like this?"

"No," she swallows a mouthful of woodland and musk. "Just you."

"Hm."

"König… Can I see your face?"

The man finally seems to find his reserve again. He detaches from her, and she can hear the audible gulp inside the hood.

"Maybe later."

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other like he usually does when he's a bit nervous. Probably to ease the discomfort from still being forced into those pants with such an astoundingly large, swelling erection, too.

She can't come up with anything that might explain why the man is so uncomfortable with showing his face. From the small glimpse she saw in the showers, everything looked completely normal. There is some other reason why he wants to wear the mask, most likely some mental block, and she would simply have to wait until he's ready and willing to take it off.

"How about a kiss?"

He doesn't shake his head or escape her as she hesitantly steps toward him and raises a hand to the hem of his hood.

"If I just…"

He does nothing as she starts to raise the mask. The look in his eyes is somewhat haunted, though.

She lifts it just enough to reveal a clean-shaven chin and a pair of thin, tightly shut lips. She briefly notices that there's a scar on his jaw before his mouth opens to call her in. They're polar opposites of each other: she feels breathless and limp when their lips meet while he's a statue of rigid power. Even his mouth is tense as she catches his bottom lip between hers and tries to soften that immortal stiffness. Distant notes of hops catch her tongue just before he pulls her back into a crushing hug.

The guy is not the most perfect kisser. He's very avid, though. In fact, his eagerness is what makes it a scary experience, what makes the kiss clumsy. He smashes his lips on hers with force, then opens his mouth so wide she fears he will devour half her face.

The ungloved hands slide down her back and cup her ass. He's gentle, but she still feels like she's levitating, half an inch above the ground from his groping. He moans like they are already having sex, but before she can disconnect herself from the violent kiss, he does it for her.

"I want to fuck you," he pants across her lips, eyes half-lidded and drunk. "Can I fuck you?"

The man has no conception of how to dance these dances. He simply declares his wish to shove his junk inside her and kill those who might do her harm. She feels dizzy in his arms, like dew that will evaporate under too much heat.

"Yeah, yes," she tries to sound sane, although there's nothing sane about this.

So much for being just friends or being nothing at all…

Her heart is beating faster and faster; it wants to rend itself out of her chest. She feels ample sweat between her thighs, then realizes it's only her own wetness that has broken through the cotton of her underwear. The dress is so tight in the middle that she can't simply try and throw it over her head, and the buttons at the front seem to have suddenly become too big to slip through the holes.

He doesn't take any of his clothes off while watching her undress. The instant she opens her whimsical veil of blooms, he moves close and shoves the fabric down her shoulders so that it drops sadly on the floor. Then he flicks a knife out.

Shit… Shit what the fuck–

"No–Don't–!"

The blade is forced with a flat surface under the middle of her bra. He pulls the fabric away, turns the blade - it's a miracle she's not bleeding by the time he cuts through the center front like it's butter. Her breasts fall free, and the destroyed lingerie hangs cheaply on the side before it gets dragged away too. She looks at his work, her exposed tits and the crude, fat knife he swiftly returns to its sheath.

"That was my favorite br–ah…"

The man is terrifying, even when he sinks to his knees. He dives for her breasts, licks the undersides and sucks her nipples like he's famished. Her head rolls back, and she feels fainter still as he gropes her like she's his toy, chews a nipple until she shudders and cries in pain. Then he goes down, down, panting hot breaths on her skin as he goes, the hood grazing and tickling her skin.

His hands shake slightly as he tears down the last piece of covering fabric from between her legs. She can't even step out of the briefs before a blazing tongue is pushed to her clit, all but delicately.

Perhaps he's not a virgin, but he's not a veteran, either – still, it draws a filthy moan out of her.

She has to take support from his head to prevent herself from falling when the tongue simply forces its way between her legs. It curls to meet her folds, slick with her wet. She knows she's practically leaking at this point, and hears how he licks his lips.

"Of course the angel tastes like heaven too," he rasps in her mound, sounding rather… bitter. Almost annoyed.

She thinks it's only the beginning, but he suddenly rises like a Kraken from the sea, like a Godzilla about to destroy an entire city.

"Get on the bed. All fours."

She chokes the whimper that tries to escape her, then turns and crawls onto the bed as if they are running out of time. His urgency is hers now, and she presents herself to him, waiting for the man to thrust in without remorse, but it's his mouth she feels first.

"Uh–Oh my god…"

He licks her with a flat tongue, torturously slow while she's on display. They're long, profound sweeps, as if he wants to sample her rather than give her pleasure. Although he does give her an immense amount of it.

She falls on her elbows, face down on the bed, exposing more of herself to him in the process. Her pussy has been neglected for so long that the feel of his hot tongue on her is absolutely breathtaking, thigh-shaking. She pushes herself back a little, lets him taste his own medicine for once.

And of course it only makes him more unhinged.

"You're wet like a…" he laughs a short, dry laugh straight into her folds, and she finally whimpers at the sound. "You want it so bad?"

"Yes…?"

It's a sad little confession but more than enough for him. He freezes behind her, and something in the way the air shifts tells her he has risen and is now standing high above her as she's in this crudely vulnerable position.

"I've made you wet this whole time?"

She snivels, opens her eyes, closes them…

"Yes," she sobs in the bed, nearly topples, but he grabs her ass and keeps her in place.

"Ach du lieber Himmel…"

She pants and cries in the sheets, but the sobering silence lasts only for so long.

The sound of a belt being opened shoots her skin full of goosebumps. Only a few seconds later, the fat tip of his cock is swept across her folds: it probes for a second, then slides in.

"A-ah–"

"Scheiße… So tight…"

He hisses and goes all the way in – the journey is long and torturous as he stretches her wide. The thickness only grows at the base, his balls are already tight as they arrive to press against her.

And mercy is not at the top of his list as he realizes she has denied her need and therefore, his. He starts to sail inside her, back and forth, in and out, like it's his job, too. It's total torture. She might just pass out before this is over.

"You little tease…" He seizes control of her hips while using her as his own personal fleshlight. The noise of wet, slick fucking is deafening. The pace is upped soon, and he has to use strength to hold her in place while ramming her from standing while she tries to hold on for her dear life and hold onto the sheets.

"Not so fast, König," she whimpers into her pillow, but he won't listen. The pace is frantic, and his thrusts are deep; he fucks her with despair, with anguish-driven, starved thrusts born from greed.

Nothing has ever felt so good, nothing.

"Just friends, eh?"

She has a hard time deciphering whether he is happy or mad. His voice is pitchy, and she knows, she just knows that he sounds equally as unglued on his missions. Perhaps that's why people rarely talk to him.

"Don't–don't be angry…"

"No? Say that you want me," he commands somewhere behind her, desperation coating the air with pungent sweat and musky arousal. "Say it–say it–"

"I want you," she finally cries, and it feels like an absolution. An amnesty. Remission of sin.

There's panting and frantic sound of slaps of flesh against flesh behind her. The air all around is pure electricity. It makes her quiver and throb and squeeze: him, the sheets, anything and everything.

"I will bring you flowers every morning and fuck you every night. Ja?"

His length is the only thing she can focus on; all else dissolves into a hazy mist. The cock glides in her like he's oiling a gun part, and he could ask her to kill someone and she would only say–

"Yes, yes."

He slides in and out with less and less control, moans and grunts with every thrust now. She's already past the point of no return, even though the orgasm keeps hovering right beyond her reach. She only needs a few more minutes. Or maybe just one...

"König… Not...so–fast…"

He answers something in German, an annoyed string of words she has no clue what they mean. He's probably just swearing profoundly.

"Get...what you deserve..."

That's the only thing she can flesh out from the English that follows. He finally finds some mercy with a choked groan and tries to slow down a little. It's even worse when he does that. He pulls almost completely out, then sinks back in, agonizingly lazy, and that does it: the full length of his giant cock slipping inside her without effort makes her walls clench.

"Oh God…" Her back is arching, her toes are curling, a tight cry disappears somewhere in the pillow, and he won't stop with the – "Oh–fuck–!"

"Yeah," he cheers her on as she screams, cries in the sheets while his cock swims in her. His hands dig into her hips, and she barely has brains left to think it might leave bruises. The orgasm comes in waves, shakes, and he won't let go even when she's only a heap of throbbing, soaking flesh and rapture.

And it's not the end; quite the contrary. He continues to fuck her with abandon: balls slap against her with every jab; they must be covered in her juice at this point, making the sound of sloppy thrusts utterly obscene. She's able to stay in a face-down, ass-up position only because he's holding her there for his cock.

The grunts turn into a wide, thick groan as he approaches the edge as well. The pace slows down almost to a halt before he comes.

"Jetzt…kommt–" he groans through gritted teeth, voice all taut while he grinds through his release. It's a multitude of deep, oddly paced thrusts, a sad attempt to get everything he can, and she's still like a wet gulf sucking him in.

The last throes are sluggish, the madness starts to pass, and she feels like every bone has left her body. There is nothing solid left when the man slowly relents and settles somewhere deep inside her. She can hear how he pants with his mouth open, and it sounds painful, wet, almost drooly. Then he swallows with a breathless gulp, slips out, and lets her go.

She immediately falls forward - topples, crashes, crawls on the bed, tries to rearrange what's left.

Just friends...

Yep.

He crashes somewhere beside her, spent and out of breath. The front of his shirt is covered in sweat; the air is filled with the stale scent of musk and saline sweat and pure, mad sex. She can barely catch a glimpse of the slick, glistening length of him. It feels like a miracle that this thing has been inside her. It’s not that it’s monstrously thick: it’s simply long, curving a little to the side, lean and aggressive even when growing soft.

"You play with fire, Engel. Why did you make me wait so long?"

The masked killer beside her is panting but satisfied for now, and turns his head to look at her. She has to muster all her courage to look back.

"I'm…a bit shy."

"You're perfect," he declares while watching her in her sex daze and ruin. So, at least he's not angry. He finally looks… normal, even with that absurd hood still on, with that intoxicated, admiring stare in his eyes. The ice in his blues has turned into melting snow.

"I noticed you the minute I arrived here."

She can't prevent a hand from reaching out at that, from splaying fingers over his chest.

"I noticed you too," she whispers back before moving closer to snuggle him. His heart is finally thumping in his chest, right under her cheek – from the late exercise or their closeness, she can't tell. A heavy arm goes around her, pressing her further into the nook of his armpit.

"You remind me of one of my knives," he says while holding her close.

Oh good God…

"You are a butterfly knife girl."

"Oh?"

"Ja. Small and cute and a lot of fun. And I can't get enough of you."

So much for getting rid of the man after getting some d. God, what was wrong with her? Any other woman would have put up some boundaries, perhaps gotten a restraining order by now.

"Is it… a good knife?" Her voice comes out as an annoying squeal, and he pulls her closer, ever closer.

"I mainly use it for playing."

She wets her lips in an attempt to calm herself, to comfort herself. She’s just another plaything for a murderer whose hunger seems endless, even if he’s more civil now. Still, she fears this man is only after sex and violence. Her little dresses and petite lingerie won't stand a chance against such brutality.

"What knife are you…?"

"Classic Glock field knife. Tall and ugly."

Behind the thin veil of indifference, there's pride. It borders on arrogance. She catches a dash of bitterness, too: field knives don't pair well with butterflies, perhaps.

"König, you're not ugly," she breaks their odd cuddle to look at him. "This sounds like a trustworthy knife to me."

He looks back at her with an even warmer tinge to the glacier of his eyes.

"It is. You cannot hope for a more loyal blade."

Her gaze drops somewhere in the darkness of his shirt. He's pledging himself for the second time to her, and it causes another storm inside her head. There's warmth on her cheeks, too.

"You are cute when you blush," he observes with pleased tranquility.

Perhaps... Perhaps he doesn't want to hurt things he finds cute.

Perhaps he will take care of them, like he takes care of his knives.

It still takes some getting used to that he allows his hood to be lifted just enough to push his tongue inside her mouth or pussy but taking it off to show his face is too much. She is lying there with him in an odd post-coital dream, thoroughly naked while he's still fully dressed. But she doesn't feel cold, not when pressed against his blazing form like this.

"Did you nick my underwear?" She asks out of the blue, and the hand stroking her waist stops in the middle of an idle caress.

"I might have," he admits without a single ounce of remorse in his voice.

"König… That's not cool," she says, knowing he can hear the lack of scolding in her voice.

"You want them back?"

"I… Gosh. Yes, that would be nice."

What a pervert.

"Or... Nevermind. Keep them," she sighs, trying to brush off the fact that the underwear in question wasn't even clean. "Do you steal women's underwear often?"

"No. Just yours."

A laugh meant to convey her shock is far too laced with joy to make it clear that she finds his deeds preposterous. She simply fails at every turn in trying to express that she's a decent woman. He knows it now, probably saw it long ago; that she's the perfect cheval glass to his perversions.

The hand on her hips moves to caress her thigh, and the drowsy stare observes her with growing mischief.

"Ready to go again?"

"Whuh–Again…?"

He takes her hand and moves it right over his cock. It's lean and demanding, and pulses under her palm.

Tall and ugly, she thinks while her walls dare to throb with hunger.

"You make me hard," he says, almost as a whisper, "all the time."

Jesus… There was definitely no rulebook when it came to this guy.

She gets to watch from the bed how he gives her a show as the man finally decides it's time to take his clothes off. The shirt is the first one to go: it flies somewhere on the floor while he holds on to his hood. The sculpted muscle looks even bigger up close, and the plates are covered with thin hair. It runs thicker below the navel, and his thighs are pure power: they surround the sleek length of his cock like trunks of strength when he finally gets himself out of those pants.

The v-shape of his upper body is something she will never get over. Broad shoulders shrink and curve into narrow hips which in turn swell into powerful thighs, and while perhaps this guy wouldn't win the gold medal at a fitness competition – judged by the way he's lean and athletic but not low fat ripped – he certainly is the most beautiful man she has ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. He's a demigod with his herculean strength, a titan who's too big for the world of mortals. A tormented Samson who will never be tamed with treachery or tricks.

The bed sags as he crawls back to her like the gentlest predator. Her legs open wide to receive him – a classic missionary feels like the most intimate choice after the faceless pounding she received earlier. He gathers her legs as he proceeds: forces them up, up, almost next to her arms until he's hovering over her exposed pussy.

She should've known that some boring missionary wouldn't satisfy this man at all.

Her eyes drop to her legs and what's between them: she's in no position to do much of anything, but as the tip of his cock – smooth, pristine velvet – slides across her wet folds once more, she rather helplessly tries to drive her hips up to meet him.

It's like she's drunk or in a dream. The scene is wild and filthy: she's plump and spread open, ready for the taking, thighs almost in her ears as he draws his hips back and finds her opening.

"Please be gentle," she begs with a whisper. He halts for a while to lock gazes with her rabbit stare.

"You are pretty when you beg, little one. But I would never hurt you."

She swallows, and her lips part – his gaze instantly falls on her mouth, then raises back to her eyes, gentle and painstakingly ardent. He's close, so terribly close – and not just physically. Her thighs quiver with anticipation as the thick velvet slides in.

Holy fuck–

She savors the spread, and he's gentle, like he promised. The groan that erupts from inside the hood above makes her walls ache. He's so merciful this time, and she wishes to lift the black veil that still keeps them apart, to see his face as he takes her, to see that scar on his jaw and how his mouth hangs open with hunger, just like hers…

His cock comes out all wet – she can hear it – before plunging right back in, and it makes her mewl.

"Oh God…" Her eyes shut tight from the sensation of being so filled. She's even more starved than she thought. It's scary, far scarier than the mass murderer above and inside her.

"You like that?"

He's breathing heavy, and she knows he's looking at her, the distorting face of pleasure, the way she's biting her lip. Tears try to force themselves out from the passionate, featherbrained proximity, from being so tightly knitted together, like a bunch of happy, overstimulated nerves.

"Look at me," he orders, and she opens her eyes like they're under his command and not hers.

"You like it like this?"

She nods with tears in her eyes, and he won't stop looking at her like she's his most prized possession.

"Gut. I will make you scream again."

The man's dreamy stare follows every twitch of a lip, every bat of an eyelash. She looks down briefly to escape that love – the sight of the long thickness disappearing in her while she is so crudely open for him makes her feel dizzy, even when she's lying down.

Some pillow princess…

"Sehr schön," he comments while watching her face which must look like that of a dumb, anesthetized doll. His cock has that effect, and now that he's hovering over her, staring into her soul while filling her, it makes everything even more painful because it's sweet. She's under lazy waves, and decent men seem the most boring thing on earth right now.

"You like my knives?"

"Ah–what…?"

"You stared when I played with my knife."

She knows he has caught her staring more than once and bites her lip again not to blurt out how she had stared when he had played with... other things as well.

"Mh, yeah… It was beautiful."

"You're beautiful."

The sudden waves of intimacy leave her fragile and weak. His stare is nothing short of a caress. She is open and helpless for him to pound to his heart's content, but he's gentle, bordering on loving...

"I can teach you how to play with them."

Jesus Christ, this dude is just crazy.

"Uh-huh," she agrees to it with her mouth hanging open from the overload of sensation. The lewd sound of his cum pushing out of her with every thrust is an obscene background music for this – or any – conversation.

"I have a collection."

Why the hell would he be talking about his knife collection in the middle of–

"I own at least fifty knives. I can show you all of them if you come to my room."

His gaze is at least as piercing as his cock, and she realizes how serious this is: knives are his life. He finds them beautiful too, he collects them and cares for them. They're a profession, but they're also the most important thing in his world.

Knives are his essence.

And he had likened her to a butterfly knife...

"S-sure."

The sound from where they are joined rises to a sluggish crescendo: drowsy, filthy claps of flesh on soaked flesh. He makes her sick and well at the same time: he drags her to hell and raises her to heaven. He's the remedy and the curse. He plays with her like he plays with his knives: ravenous, entranced, obsessed.

She tries to concentrate on too many things at once: that intoxicating voice, the memory of him playing with death, the cock plunging inside her over and over again, making warmth pool below. She imagines him killing people with his collection, picking his tool for the day. He's not the only lunatic here because even the very thought makes her tight around him.

"You are close?"

"König… Just–" she whispers on the cusp of a deeper, soul-rending orgasm.

"You like it when I talk about knives?"

She breathes laboriously and tries to hang onto the last bits of her sanity, but he knows her, knows her already. He weighs down on her until her thighs come to rest right next to her breasts. He's plowing her in a crude angle, indecent and deep. It's vulgar, and she loves it; loves the way he stares at her, all helpless under him.

"Please, I'm gonna–"

"I can show you my guns too."

Ohmygod–

"I'm gonn–ah–!"

She shatters, her walls clench; her pussy sucks him like he's hard candy.

“Sieh dir das an… You were made for me.”

"Nh– Please…"

Her head tosses on the pillow as if in a dream. She's fathomless, and going to pass out, the cock inside her makes her eyes roll back in her head until she sees white, the color of saints.

"Shy girl… Beg for it."

The voice that answers his command is not that of a shy girl; it's not hers at all. She hears it from underwater, and her reality consists solely of the man filling her, spreading her, transforming her from an angel into something deliciously wicked.

Please, just–

It's not her voice, and yet it does sound everything like her. It begs, mewls a plea after the other in a string of helpless little whimpers.

Don't stop, please pleaseplease…

"Besser als jedes Messer…" he rasps, more darkly now. "You drive me crazy, Engel."

A chant arises in her head: she has sinned and there's no turning back. He feels far better than any promise of heaven. She could never have guessed that being cast out would feel so good.

His release comes with a tight rip, he goes taut like in that shower, only ten times more desperate. The hiss under the hood turns into a pained, strained roar of a grunt. The first time was foreplay, a quick one: this is true release. She almost hopes she would faint as the whole body of the Austrian titan goes hard as a rock. She couldn't be more spent and used, and still, her pussy answers his godly essence by clenching around him, pulling him in like he's the best man there is.

The man of her dreams, the man from her worst nightmares...

His eyes are liquid, the waterline twitches. She sees behind the walls, a millisecond's worth of fragility before his head drops, and the muscles are released from the violent trance. Broad shoulders cage her in like she's suddenly deep inside a mountain pass. Spent and dead and gone, there's no hurry any longer: he is buried deep inside and throbs whatever leftovers he has to give her.

She's filled to the brim, crushed under his weight, banished: and it's only delicious, the feeling of her body disappearing somewhere in the depths of the bed he has plowed her into. She waits dutifully as the man gathers himself, even gets brave enough to touch him. The masked face is buried somewhere in her neck, and his stomach ripples with a few shivers as her hand runs down his spine.

"I want to do this every day," he declares softly while panting through the thick fabric of his self-made shield. She feels pure horror and thrill in her chest.

To do this every day… She will eventually break, like a toy that has been used too much. She's not made of steel like those butterfly knives used mainly for playing.

"König, this is crazy… We're crazy," she tries to put into words the unholy mess raging inside her. He snorts before releasing her from the absurd position. The weight of him leaves her empty as he pulls out, then drags his way beside her to gather her back into his arms.

"Don't be ashamed, little one," he coos through the mask. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Two rounds of intense sex have liberated him, the manic terror has turned into a strange compassion. The look in his eyes is magnanimous and tender, almost droopy. She feels weightless and timid, an angel once more.

"We belong together, you and I," he states with conviction that sends sweet dread inside her heart. "Don't worry. You will never be lonely again."

Her fate is sealed, and she fears a big, fat knife will cut her heartstrings too if she tries to escape his protection. Her jaw trembles at the prospect of him returning to her every day to fuck her bare after an adrenaline high on the field. She sees a future of tears and sweat and cum, a beast lulled into sleep amidst a withering sea of flowers and torn lace.

She tries to find the right words, hopes he will be swift and merciful in his execution.

König, please…

It's not the hood, it's–

"Everyone fears me," he sighs beside her. "I'm glad you don't."

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 2

Part 1, Part 2, (Part 3??)

Part 1 was many months ago.. oopsie! Been doing a lot of reading recently and HOLY FUCK I LOVE THE TWISTED SERIES BY ANA HUANG. I JUST FINISHED IT, CAN'T WAIT TO READ THE KING OF SINS SERIES (btw I finished it a long time ago, this draft just never made it out). Do y'all like want some stuff implemented from there, here? I'M THINKING KING OF GREED? 👀

Also.. This was supposed to be my birthday special, but what happened was I became busy and never got around to making a definitive ending.. but don't worry, this isn't where the series ends.

My goodness the taglist on this one almost doubled, to anyone who doesn't want to be part of the tags, please tell me so that I can remove you because this will be the official list and it's still open for more people who wanna see this series.

Warning: Too lazy to proof read since I have so much to do, please tell me any autocorrected, misspelled words in the replies so I can change it.. 😭

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Simon sulked, his forehead resting on the soft mattress. His back and neck were aching yet he couldn't get the fear and worry out his head. You clear the fog in your head, your body felt sore despite the semi-comfortable bed you were laying on.

You groan softly, forcing yourself to sit-up, where the fuck was your daughter? Was she safe? In a panic you looked around the room, you let out a long, deep sigh as you saw her laying on the couch. Long blond hair splayed around messily on the pillow with a blanket that was barely hanging onto her body, she looked so peaceful.

You felt movement next to you, Simon woke up. He looks up to you, in a bit of a shock. He didn't say a word before holding you and guiding you back down to lay on the slightly adjusted bed, back against the pillow he fixed behind you, you wanted to fight it and protest but his strength was god-like on your still weak and not well rested body, your throat was dry to the point of pain and obvious discomfort.

Simon knows you better than you know yourself, resentment settled in your blood, felt more than the amount than when you missed him. He took the tightly sealed water bottle on the table next to your bed and pries it open, holding the bottle's opening to your lips.

You took a big gulp with his guide but you gently took the bottle off his hand into your own, your fingers brushing his a bit in the process, basically telling him you could do it yourself. A few more gulps down and your throat was eased, you handed back the water bottle to Simon.

He was fidgeting with his hands, his fingers rubbing and grazing the spot your fingers accidentally touched. You looked down with dismay as he takes the bottle from you and closes it.

Was he so disgusted and revolted by your touch that he's brushing off his fingers from it? You knew you didn't end it good terms but you had no idea he hated you that much. Maybe not.. are you overthinking? Probably.

It was silent, awkward, just hearing the IV drip and the beeps of the heart monitor. Simon wanted to say something so bad but what do you say to the love of your life who you've hurt severely and regret it because you still love her and want to be in her life again? Mouthful, he knows.

Simon had no right to you anymore, he couldn't even scold you and tell you to take better care of yourself anymore because that's what he used to do, it's way too familiar. He couldn't even touch you without him thinking it would make you uncomfortable.

You feel it, rather see it more but Simon wanted to die in the moment. Heavy breaths and clearly restless eyes, disheveled hair..

"How do you feel..?" He said, he looks elsewhere as he wanted to avoid the way your eyes chose to settle on him..

"I don't know..? I don't know how to process all this but there's no physical pain, just nausea.." you said, he got up to call a nurse and alert them that you're awake. He chose to step out while the doctor did the regular routine of checking everything.

"Momma?" You turn to your left at the couch where your daughter was sat up, rubbing her eyes.. she got off it and immediately ran to you, "I'm glad you're okay now.." she said which never failed to make you smile with how caring she tended to be..

"What happened bubs? Momma doesn't remember much except for fainting.." you asked the bundle of joy as you tried to piece back what had happened beforehand..

"I called dada when you fell, momma. I was so scared, I was shouting but you won't wake up.. dada took so long to get there but when he did, he asked me to go in the car while carried you inside to take you here.." she said, you took her off the ground and placed her at your side, embracing her little body.

"I'm sorry bubs, momma should've taken better care of herself.. if I had, I wouldn't have been so sick to the point of unconsciousness.." you felt so guilty, if only it had been under better circumstance then you would've been able to take care of yourself better and not put your child through what must've been a moment that should've set her in a panic.

"It's okay, momma. I'm a big girl now, I can take care of you like you take care of me.." her sweet little voice paused for a moment.

"Momma, what does unconscious mean?" She asked, you laughed, forgetting that she doesn't know the meaning of certain words yet..

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle @darkhorrorwhispers @cyphah @ash-tarte @linaangel @waves-against-a-cliff @fruitymoonbeams-blog @venussdovess @mactavishsgfandwife @thisisaphrodite @holyfeck @avalkyrieofparis @mymelx @ssc7514 @lilaclazer @fandomwarrior98 @spontaneousleo

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You try to keep it together as much as you can in Annapolis, but that's easier said than done. Bradley realizes that while this week feels unbearable, a deployment would be much worse. And you cautiously tell Bradley there are two people you think should be the first ones to know about the baby.

Warnings: Swearing, adult language, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Monday morning came way too early on the east coast, especially when you barely slept and couldn't stop throwing up. "Why?" you groaned from your spot on the floor next to the toilet. You had exactly three hours until you had to give your presentation at 10:00, but Cat was already texting you from her hotel room across the hallway about getting breakfast. You'd be lucky if you could stomach a single peanut butter cracker and squeeze yourself into your uniform on time. 

You crawled back out to the bedroom and rummaged in your suitcase for one of the ginger candies Bradley packed for you. It couldn't hurt at this point, so you shoved it in your mouth and pulled yourself up onto the bed. It was amazing that you could possibly feel this shitty. Your ribs and back hurt from constantly throwing up, and you were starting to feel dehydrated, but the idea of drinking something was too taxing to even consider.

"Why are you so mean?" you moaned as you rolled onto your side, letting your hand rest on your belly. "I actually love you, and you're being so mean to me all the time. Why?" You sucked on the candy and laughed. "You'll prefer your dad, I can already tell." 

You kind of wanted to call him, but you didn't want to wake him up at four in the morning, so you settled on trying to get dressed instead. It was amazing that you did nothing but throw up, yet you were still all bloated and puffy. Your khaki pants were a little too snug for comfort, but you had no other option at the moment. When you looked at your butt in the mirror, you shrugged. 

"Whatever," you whispered, buttoning your shirt as your stomach growled angrily. "Please, make up your mind," you begged your body as you heard a knock at your door. You pasted on a fake smile and opened it to reveal Cat Coleman looking like a million fucking dollars while you looked like a sewer rat. "Morning," you rasped.

Her eyes went a little wide as she pushed your door open. "Did you not get any sleep? You look awful."

You huffed out a breath, realizing you buttoned your shirt up wrong. "I'm fine," you muttered as you fixed it. "I'm just not quite ready to go yet."

"Yes, I gathered that much," she replied, eying you up and down. "Are you going to be able to present today? Because I can't do this without you."

You shot her a scathing look. "Of course I can present today. I'm fine. Great. Golden." You were in all honesty on the verge of throwing up again.

"Okay," she said with zero conviction. "Well, just knock on my door when you want to grab some breakfast and head over to the Naval Academy."

"Will do," you promised her. As soon as she was gone, you gagged into the toilet one more time before brushing your teeth and putting on enough makeup to hide the fact that it looked like you were going to fall over. 

You felt weak as you tried to eat a pack of crackers so your stomach had something in it. This was a lot easier when Bradley was with you, rubbing your back and holding a glass of cold water for you to take sips from. You moaned softly and fought against the tears. If you thought about him too long, you were going to cry. Or worse... start to get turned on. 

"I don't have time for this," you whined as you checked your phone. How was it already 8:00? Fuck, it was still too early to call Bradley, but now your mom and dad were both texting you to see if you were coming for dinner on Thursday. You knew you were going to have to invite Cat to come with you, since you only had one rental car. The idea of trying to get through the night with all of them was too much to consider at the moment. 

Ignore it. Ignore everything. That was all you could do. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Focus on the presentation. Focus on not throwing up. That was the key.

You knocked on Cat's door, and she opened it immediately, dragging the tub of equipment out into the hallway with her. "It's late, so I figured we would eat breakfast and then head right to the conference?"

"Sure," you replied, picking up one end of the tub. But it really was heavy, and you struggled to get it to the elevator with her. "I'm actually not that hungry, so we can just get whatever you want on the way."

Cat scoffed. "I wanted to eat at Waffle House. I miss Annapolis so much."

Just thinking about the sticky floors and smell of maple syrup was turning your stomach at the moment. "Maybe we can do that tomorrow morning instead? Since we don't have our second presentation until Wednesday?"

"Fine," Cat agreed, and the two of you took the bin out to the rental car. She offered to drive, and you let her. Apparently you fell asleep on the ten minute ride, and she had to wake you up to go through security. "They want your ID card to get through the gate," she said, shaking your shoulder. 

"Oh," you groaned, digging it out of your pocket and handing it to her. 

"Seriously, are you sure you're okay?" she whispered as the guards inspected the car.

"Just jetlag," you promised, resisting the urge to roll down the window and barf. "I'm totally fine. Let's get this show on the road."

-----------------------------

Bradley poked at his burrito bowl in the cafeteria. Even the green hot sauce wasn't helping his mood since you couldn't actually eat it right now. It was just making him sad. He'd written five pages in the notebook for the baby, but it just made him miss you more. He wondered what you were doing right now. Surely your presentation must be over, but he hadn't heard from you. Maybe you had already checked in with Bickel. Maybe he should go up and talk to your boss and see?

"Wow," Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Focus, Rooster."

"I'm sorry," he replied, trying to give her his full attention. "What did you say?"

"I asked you three times if you wanted to go see the new Tom Cruise movie with me tonight. I have a coupon for a free large popcorn that's about to expire."

"Yes. Absolutely." He'd do anything to keep himself busy this week. "What time?"

"6:30. I'll pick you up so you can call your wife from the car and talk to her before she goes to sleep east coast time."

"Sounds good," he agreed, taking his phone out to let you know about his plans. After work, when he was eating a bowl of cereal for dinner, you finally wrote back. 

Baby Girl Bradshaw: The first presentation went pretty well. Have fun at the movie. I love you.

"That's it?" he asked Tramp after reading the message twice. Nat knocked on the door at the same time he called you. 

When you answered with a soft, "Roo," followed by a groan, he had to take a deep breath.

"You okay, Sweetheart?" he asked as he headed for the front door to let his friend in.

"No," you moaned. "I had a rough day. I feel disgusting, and now your voice is making me horny."

This was admittedly not the best time for phone sex. He paused as he said, "Nat just got here, but if you need me to cancel the movie plans, I can do that."

"No," you gasped, "don't cancel your plans. Go have fun. We can talk tomorrow."

He shook his head as he said, "I'd rather talk to you now. I'll cancel."

"No! We can talk now. Put me on speaker so I can say hi to Nat."

"Fine," he agreed, unlocking and opening his front door. Tramp made a run for Nat as Bradley tapped the icon for speakerphone and said, "My wife wants to say hi to you."

His best friend took the phone right out of his hand and had a full conversation with you while she rummaged through the refrigerator and helped herself to a seltzer. Bradley stood there as patiently as he could, simultaneously feeling annoyed that you were telling Nat all about your presentation while also feeling relieved that he remembered to hide the ultrasound photos. You and his friend laughed and laughed together, and then he started tapping his wrist to get her to move things along.

"We'll be late," he told Nat, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Here's your husband back," she told you. "Have fun in Annapolis. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone less annoying."

"Don't tell her that," Bradley said as he turned off speakerphone. "Don't listen to her, Sweetheart."

But you were just laughing now as he held the phone to his ear and followed Nat out to the driveway. He had to kick aside so much trash to get in her car, he was about to offer to drive instead, but she was already starting the engine. "This is fucking disgusting," he told her, covering the mouthpiece of his phone. "Clean your shit."

She just tore out of the driveway and said, "Talk to your wife before we get to the theater."

"Are you in the car?" you asked softly.

"Yeah. Unfortunately," he grunted. "Can you tell me about your presentation?"

"I nailed it even though I threw up so much this morning," you told him, but then you moaned. "Am I on speakerphone?" 

"No."

"Bradley! I am so fucking horny, Daddy!" Your voice was extra whiny, and the last thing Bradley wanted was an erection in front of his best friend, but he could hear in your voice how badly you needed him. "I was talking to Commander Patterson after my presentation, and I swear Roo, he asked me if Top Gun aviation was a good fit for me, and all I could think about was your cock the whole time. I even told him that things from Top Gun aviation are a really snug fit for me!"

Bradley felt his cheeks warm up. He had no idea who Commander Patterson was, but he said, "I think Top Gun aviation is the place for you, Sweetheart. Nothing else is gonna fit you quite right."

"Bradley!" you whined, and the sound went straight to his cock as Nat adjusted the air conditioner settings. "Fuck, you remember that time you fucked me in the back of our Bronco after I texted you dirty photos at dinner?"

"Yeah," he grunted, closing his eyes and actually trying not to think about it.

"Remember on our honeymoon when you finger fucked your cum into my pussy and then traced my tattoo?"

He growled out your first name. "I absolutely do, but I think perhaps we should talk about that later?"

"Yes, yes, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm going to get my vibrators out and listen to old voicemail messages you left for me so I can get off, okay? Have fun at the movie. I love you."

The call went dead right as Nat pulled into the parking lot, and the trash at Bradley's feet shifted as she went careening over a speed bump. He was trying to catch his breath. All he really wanted was a little more information about your presentation and to make sure you and the nugget were okay, but what he got was a semi that he was trying to keep at bay.

"If I get nachos and a soft pretzel and popcorn will you eat some?" she asked as she parked. 

"Yeah," he grunted as he unbuckled his seatbelt. 

"Listen," Nat said as she fixed her hair in the mirror. "I know you miss her, and rightfully so since she's way cooler than you, but if you just give me one word answers all night, it's going to piss me off."

"Sorry," he added, trying to remember how to talk. Right now you were possibly getting off while listening to old voicemail messages that you kept? Of him just talking to you? Jesus, why was that making him so hot?

Nat was glaring at him now. He needed to focus.

"I'm sorry. No more one word answers. Let's go. It's time for Tom Cruise."

-----------------------------

When you woke up on Tuesday, you were snuggled up and so warm, you reached for Bradley. "Roo?" But when you opened your eyes, you were met with the sterile looking hotel room through your blurry vision. Now you remembered talking to Nat and Bradley on the phone before masturbating and falling asleep. When you sat up in bed, you definitely didn't feel as awful as you expected. And when you eased yourself to standing, you were surprised that your stomach didn't lurch. 

You had one text message from your husband, and when you put your glasses on to read it, you laughed. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: baby girl, i'm going to need you to describe in detail for me exactly how you got off. while listening to my voicemails? please, as much detail as you can. i hope you came hard thinking about me. i love you. the movie was good. i'll take you next week if you want.

You wrote back to tell him that you did in fact come while you listened to a long rambling voicemail he left you a few months ago about how he left the house without his shopping list and made it all the way to Costco before he realized it. "Your Daddy has a nice voice, little nugget," you whispered, pressing one gentle palm to your belly. 

It was 8:30, and you didn't have too much planned for the day other than breakfast at Waffle House with Cat. You had to give another presentation tomorrow, and you were excited to talk to some more superior officers afterwards. You were also supposed to make it to a cocktail hour this evening, but you were planning on ditching it and hoping Cat could network for both of you. It would be nearly impossible to avoid drinking without drawing attention to yourself when there were waiters walking around with flutes of champagne. 

You took a quick shower and got yourself ready, and you tapped on Cat's door. When she opened it, she eyed you skeptically. "You look so much better today. Everything okay?"

"I think it was just the jetlag," you told her smoothly. "Wanna go to Waffle House?"

"Hell yes," she replied, turning to grab her bag. "Hopefully we don't run into my ex or anyone I used to work with."

In all your morning sickness and preparation back in San Diego, you had forgotten that Cat also had roots in Maryland. "If we run into Mike, point him out to me. I'll punch him in the face."

She laughed. "I would personally love to see that."

You drove the rental car through the familiar town to the diner you'd been to many times with Cam when you were at the Naval Academy together. You snapped a picture to send to him before walking inside. Sure enough, the floors were sticky, but it smelled like strong coffee, and your stomach started growling. You silently prayed that whatever you ate managed to stay down, at least until you were alone again. 

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Cat asked you as you glanced at the menu, a little disappointed that they didn't have avocado toast. 

"I thought maybe I would take a nap at some point."

"Oh, that's actually a great idea. I might do that as well. I never get a full night of sleep when I'm home with Jeremiah."

You ordered a stack of pancakes and some bacon and then listened to Cat order the signature waffle. When the waitress wandered away, you asked, "Is Jake watching him this week?" with a little smirk. You already knew he was. Well, him and Hondo both were.

She played with the container of sugar and didn't meet your eyes as she said, "I think this week will make or break my relationship with Jake."

"Why?" you gasped. 

She was quiet for a moment as she glanced out the window. "He practically begged me to let him help watch Jeremiah. So he and Uncle Bernie are sharing duties. I just... know how my uncle feels about Jake. They clash, and none of it is really Jake's fault. I just need to make some decisions when we get back."

Your stomach lurched. "What kind of decisions?"

She shrugged and poked her silverware. "If they can't get along, then I'll have to decide if I can reasonably keep putting everyone through this. I'll likely never be able to afford my own place, and Bernie is the only family I still talk to. But Jake...." She had a dreamy look in her eyes as she said, "I wasn't expecting to ever fall in love again."

The only thing you could think to say was, "He loves Jeremiah."

She didn't humor you with a response. Instead she asked, "Are you planning on seeing your parents while we're here?"

"Yeah," you answered as the food arrived. "About that... you mind if I use the car on Thursday evening? You're more than welcome to join me, but they want me to have dinner with them at home."

"You can use the car all you want," she replied. "And I'll think about it. Thanks." As you were coating your food in syrup, she asked, "Weren't Bradley's parents from Maryland as well?"

"Virginia," you replied immediately. "They were both from the Norfolk area. Nick grew up closer to the beach, and Carole grew up in the city." As you took a bite of pancake, your stomach growled awkwardly, but a warm thought lit up in your mind. "Hey, so you wouldn't mind too much if I actually used the car today?"

--------------------------

Bradley was in the air all day on Tuesday, and he kept looking at his little collection of photos longingly. He had one of you from when the two of you were dating. You were mid laugh, face lit up, looking right at him. And then he had a wedding photo as well. It was the one the photographer took where the sun was just hitting the horizon behind you. And now he also had a little stack of ultrasound pictures to look at.

When his comms crackled to life, he tucked the photos away and got himself in position for some tactical dog fighting with Nat and Bob. Bradley loved flying, but more and more he had been considering what might come next for him. One day he could get injured or fail an eye exam. Then what? Other than being home with you and the nugget at that point, he didn't know what else the Navy could offer him.

"Tally, tally!" Bob called out, and Bradley easily dodged the attack. He knew he was good. He knew he was the right mix of cautious and impulsive. He had to be. But there also needed to be more, because if this week was teaching him anything, it was that too many long deployments away from his family would be unbearable. 

When he finally touched down on the runway at 2:30, he was hungry and thirsty, and Maverick dismissed him to the rec room along with Nat and Bob. When he checked his phone, he had a bunch of missed calls and texts from you. 

"Hey, you go ahead," he told them. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright," Bob replied, and Bradley watched them walk inside the tower while he read your most recent message. 

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I have a little surprise for you. Any chance you can facetime?

He had no idea what you could have in mind for him. A little surprise could be anything. Shit, it could be dirty. He glanced around before tucking himself up against the side of the building with his aviators perched on his nose. He dropped his helmet gently to the ground and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair as he called you. 

"Bradley!"

Your gorgeous face filled his phone screen, and he smiled immediately. "Hey, Sweetheart. You look pretty."

"Thank you. I feel good today."

"How's the nugget?"

You laughed. "As finicky as ever."

You were obviously outside somewhere, and the sky was cloudy behind you as you walked past some trees. "Where are you? And what's my surprise?"

You bit your lip and looked between the phone screen and something else before you knelt down on the ground. "I just had this silly idea earlier when I was eating breakfast." You tilted the phone away from your face, and then Bradley knew exactly where you were. "But I thought we could tell them the news together? Let them be the first to know?"

He pulled his sunglasses from his face and stared at his phone screen as tears blurred his vision. "Baby Girl," he gasped as he looked at his parents' gravesite. Both headstones were decorated with fresh flowers which you must have just placed there today, and you had tucked an ultrasound photo underneath a few pebbles as well.

"Do you want to tell them?" you asked, your voice just the softest whisper that made him ache even more. 

"Yeah," he managed to say as he fought to keep his composure as a tear slid down his cheek. "Hey, Mom. Hey, Dad. That's not just my perfect wife sitting there with you. That's your grandchild, too."

He could hear you laughing and crying at the same time as you rearranged the pebbles. "Still just a nugget right now, but we'll bring him or her back again someday. Right, Roo?" you asked, turning the phone back to your gorgeous face. 

Bradley nodded as he sobbed. "Yeah," he rasped as you smiled at him and swiped at your own tears. "Of course. The three of us will come back together. We can have a picnic. Let the kiddo meet Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose."

"That sounds perfect."

"Hey, Sweetheart?" he managed as he cried. "I fucking love you so much. You know that, right?"

Your voice was still soft, and Bradley wanted to melt into it. "Yeah. I know."

He wiped his cheeks with the rough sleeve of his flight suit as he asked, "You really drove three and a half hours from Annapolis to the cemetery?"

You curled up on your side next to the ultrasound photo as you said, "Yeah. It seemed like a no-brainer. I thought they should be the first ones to know."

"Fuck." He had to fight for composure. "I would marry you a hundred times. A thousand times. I would marry you a million fucking times, Sweetheart."

You laughed softly. "I'd let you."

Those were some of the sweetest words Bradley had ever heard in his life, and you said them as you and the baby were curled up there with the memory of his mom and dad. He would literally never get over how perfect you really were. 

Then you popped up and groaned, "Oh no." And Bradley was treated to the vivid facetime experience of watching you run a few feet to your left before you threw up in the shrubs. 

"Take some deep breaths," he coaxed, just like he would if you were in the bathroom at home. "Do you have some water and the ginger candy with you?"

"In the rental car," you told him as you set your phone on the ground. "I was doing so well today, too."

He didn't want to say it, but he knew this meant the baby was nice and healthy. "Why don't you curl up with Carole again, Baby Girl. She told me she threw up non-stop when she was pregnant. I'm sure she can commiserate."

"Actually, I think I will," you told him when you picked up the phone once again. "I'm going to hang out with my in-laws a little longer. Have a chat about how much I adore their son. Maybe get their opinion on some baby names."

He laughed. "Don't let them talk you into Bradley Junior."

You shook your head adamantly. "I'd sooner allow you to name the nugget Bronco."

"Hell yes!" he cheered. "Bronco Bradshaw is still on the table."

You cradled your forehead in your hand, but you were smiling. "Get back to work while the nugget and I spend some time with your mom and dad."

"I love you more than life itself, Baby Girl."

----------------------------

She treats him so well. Fuck, this even made me tear up a little bit. Grandma Carole and Grampy Goose would have been the best. Next we will find out what kind of trouble awaits in Maryland. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 33

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[stylesispunk]

Waiting room

Joel Miller x f! reader

summary: A few years ago, Joel saved your life and you have loved him ever since but he didn't reciprocate your feelings or that's what you thought. word count: 2,5k a/n: I didn't write a chapter for "The Not so Invisible String" series but wrote this. I would appreciate receiving reblogs and comments. Happy reading!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

"What happened to me?" you questioned, your curiosity seeking answers.

"I found you," the stranger replied. "You had slept for two days."

In two days, you changed the rules of the game.

In two days, Joel came across with his humanity when he found you laying on the ground after being beaten up by some smugglers.

And what a plot twist you were.

You were so young and naïve when the world broke into a mess, and the reminisces of your old life before were just fogging memories threatened to be erased completely by the clouds of your head. You had forgotten your mother’s voice, the taste of the cookies she baked on Sunday’s afternoons, and the essence of her perfume enveloping you in embraces you were never going to get back.

You still craved a lingering, real sort of comfort that hadn’t come. In this world, emotions make you weak, and being weak means you die.

The closest thing to caring you received from someone was from Joel. The day he found you, he treated your wounds, he prevented you from dying by starving himself, and he fed you with his food.

“I broke my rules for you.” He peeped once you recovered, but still, he let you stay.

Through the months and years, you had become accustomed to the idea of him and Tess being the only people you could trust; they were older and wiser than you, a perk but also a source of constant disappointment over the idea of you being seen as the foolish, weak kid.

You felt a burden. You were a constant troublemaker, getting into trouble with everyone who seemed to mess with you, but under some eyes, you were still Joel’s girl, just that you really weren’t. You just idealize the idea of it.

Because every time somebody hit you, he was there, and if that wasn’t love, what the fuck was it?

You knew that there was something between them beyond a simple partner-in-crime relationship. They weren’t what you would call lovers, but there was unspoken language between them you couldn’t decipher, not because you were a fool but because you weren’t a part of them.

Because you weren’t important,

You didn’t know if Joel cared about you coming back.

You were just someone Joel found almost dying.

Whereas for you, he was the closest thing you felt to home.

"Where were you?" his voice called out in the middle of the dark room, breaking the silence of the eerie night.

“God, you scared me,” you answered. "I thought you were asleep."

"You know I don't go to sleep unless I know you're here." His voice was so sharp it could cut in half.

Liar.

“You are asleep other times,” you acknowledged, trying to remove your boots without whimpering as the pain settled in your bones. “And I'm here. You can go to sleep now," you hissed, out of frustration but also from the pain emanating from cuts.

"No."

"Well, I'll go then," you replied.

“Come here, show me,” he demanded.

“No.”

“Come here,” he repeated, frustrated this time.

“I said, “

“Now!” the raised tone sent shivers down your spine, forming a lump in your throat.

You were there, not moving, and he was closer. The dim light in the room cast eerie shadows as he examined your face, his fingertips tracing the evidence of the scars painted on your skin.

The cut on your bottom lip throbbed with each breath. A bruise, vividly purple, marred the skin around your eye, testimony to the violence that had been part of it and the cut on your nose, which seemed to be broken.

Not only do you face hurt, but all your body is carrying the consequences of a beating you didn’t think you deserved. Your bones felt crushed under the pressure of the emotional turbulence going on in your head.

And Joel’s touch, his gentle touch, so delicate yet full of fury, not towards you but at the merciless people that forced such a wound on you. You winced as his fingers grazed the tender skin; his silence was so loud.

“Who did this to you?” he muttered, frustration lacing his voice. The sharpness of his earlier tone softened under your teary stare.

“It doesn’t matter,” you replied.

“It does to me,” he retorted.

“No. Joel, let me be alone. It hurts; my body was hit, and I would be dead if it weren’t for you,“you sobbed.

“For what?”

"For you," you admitted through a shaky breath, the weight of the truth bearing down on you. The room seemed to shrink as you uttered those words, exposing a vulnerability that had remained buried beneath the facade of strength.

Joel's eyes softened, and the fury in his touch transformed into a gentleness that contrasted with the brutality of reality outside. In that fleeting moment, it was just the two of you, suspended in a fragile moment.

His voice, now a whisper, carried a mix of concern and disbelief. "For me?"

“The only reason I’m not dead is because of you. Can you believe it?” You chuckled. “One of the men there recognized me as Joel’s girl, who I am not, and then they stopped. Not even because I’m a person, but because I am associated with a man.”

Joel's expression tightened at the revelation, a flicker of anger passing through his eyes.

“Let me clean your wounds, “Joel began, his voice a gentle plea to attend to your wounds.

"No. I don't need your fucking help," you interrupted, frustration lacing your words, tired of being the dog at Joel’s door waiting for him to notice your loyalty and devotion.

"Yes, you need it because you're a fucking naive baby acting restless and so careless." Joel retorted, frustrated.

“"I have no one. My life is just a waste of air for this damn world, so why should I care about my well-being?" you shot back bitterly, the pain in your voice mirroring the bruises on your body.

"Because I care about you," Joel admitted, his words a brief glimmer of hope. However, before you could fully grasp the weight of his confession, he extinguished any expectations. "You have Tess and me; we share our roof with you."

"Exactly. Your place, not mine," you argued, a stark reminder of the boundaries that confined your sense of belonging.

"Your point?" Joel challenged.

"You found me once and brought me here, okay? Thanks for it. But that doesn't mean I have your respect," you asserted, the frustration bubbling to the surface.

"My protection is not enough." Joel questioned, his patience wearing thin.

"It's not," you replied with conviction.

"Then you can go and find your own fucking place."

"That's what I'm doing. I'm leaving the QZ. There may be a place that fits for me," you declared, the decision firm in your voice.

Joel's silence echoed through the room, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. But you offered none, maintaining a stoic resolve as you walked away from the confrontation.

"What? Where?" he finally managed to utter, a mixture of confusion and concern etched on his face.

"Goodnight," you replied tersely, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The darkness of the hallway enveloped you as you retreated towards the bedroom. The door creaked shut behind you, leaving Joel standing in the dimly lit room, grappling with the echoes of your departure.

The room was shrouded in darkness, and you lay on the bed, the events of the night replaying in your mind like a relentless loop making fun of you for being so foolish, but despite the physical exhaustion, sleep eluded you, and your thoughts continued to wander through the tangled maze of emotions.

And Joel, of course, whom you were leaving behind tomorrow morning before he could even notice you were going to disappear.

As you lay there, the door creaked open, and Joel entered, carrying a small bottle and a cloth. The soft glow of a flashlight in his hand illuminated his face, revealing concern and remorse for his previous attitude.

"I brought something for the pain," he muttered, his gruff voice softened by a vulnerability you rarely could see. You remained silent, acknowledging his presence with a nod.

Joel approached, his movements deliberate as he poured a few pills onto his weathered palm. "Take these. They'll help with the pain and help you sleep."

You reluctantly accepted the medicine, swallowing it down with a sip of water from a nearby bottle. The bitterness lingered on your tongue.

Joel then reached for the cloth, dampening it with water. Gently, he began to clean the wounds on your face, his touch surprisingly tender. The initial sting of contact faded, replaced by a strange mix of relief and discomfort.

"Joel,” you said, but he didn’t answer and focused on tending to your injuries.

"Joel," you repeated, a little more assertive this time. His name hung in the air, yet he remained silent, his attention fixed on the task at hand. The rhythmic motions of cleaning your wounds seemed to be his sole purpose.

You took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken words settling heavily in the room. "Joel," you said once more, this time with an edge of urgency, attempting to draw him out of his concentrated silence.

He finally looked up, meeting your gaze. "What is it?"

The room felt hot with tension as you hesitated before finding the words. "I appreciate this—the medicine, cleaning my wounds. But it doesn't change my mind about leaving.”

His gaze held yours, an unspoken plea for understanding. "You're hurt; you can't go so far in your state," he replied, a touch of concern in his voice.

"So what?" you retorted, frustration bubbling to the surface. "If I have to die outside, I will. I don't care. I'm just tired of this life."

Joel's eyes narrowed, his expression shifting from anger to concern. "What would make that thought go away?" he asked, his question cutting through the defiance in your tone.

"What?" you responded, caught off guard by the unexpected question.

"What would make life worth living?" he repeated, his gaze unwavering. The weight of his inquiry settled in the room, demanding introspection.

The silence that followed was heavy, the question lingering in the air as you grappled with the complexities of your own desires and the harsh realities of the world outside that broke any chance of achieving the dreams you had when you were a child.

The silence stretched, becoming a tangible force in the room, until Joel's desperation cut through it like a blade. "I'm waiting," he said, his tone laden with urgency.

"To have someone," you confessed, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken longings.

"How?" he pressed, searching for clarity in your cryptic words.

"To have someone that cares for me," you explained, the vulnerability in your voice laying bare a deep-seated yearning, a yearning you had been carrying for years.

"You have me," Joel insisted, his desperation now tinged with frustration.

"You're not mine; you're hers," you said, invoking Tess. "Do you think I don't hear you both having sex?”

His eyes widened, realization dawning on him as the unspoken truth reverberated in the room.

"Maybe my body was hers, but inside, it's here." Joel took your hand and placed it over his chest, just above his heart. "I'm craving for you."

A tense silence enveloped the room as your words hung in the air, and Joel's eyes reflected all the sincerity of his feelings slipping from his lips. Your skepticism pierced through the charged atmosphere, casting a shadow over the vulnerability that had been exposed.

"I don't believe you," you declared, a note of disbelief in your voice.

Joel's expression tightened, a blend of irritation and determination etched on his face. "You don't?"

"You're just saying those things out of pity," you accused, the walls of defense rising once more.

He shook his head, a flicker of frustration evident in his eyes. "You are whiny, a pain in the ass, arrogant, naive..."

"Stop!" you exclaimed, the litany of criticism hitting you harder than expected.

"Yet, despite it all," Joel continued, his voice a mixture of exasperation and something deeper, "you make me go crazy, and still, I want to break every single finger that has been laid against you."

The weight of Joel's words hung in the air, a revelation that cut through the tension and laid bare the depth of his emotions. His eyes, always filled with exasperation, now held a raw vulnerability.

"You don't realize that you brought sense back to my life!" he exclaimed, the urgency in his voice echoing through the room. "If you go and you die, there's nothing left for me to fight for."

"I want to be the last one you love," he spoke, his hands cupping your face, fingers tracing delicate patterns over the scars that adorned your skin. His gaze, dark and intense, held a promise that lingered in the air. "I want to be your ending."

"And I want you to be my ending," he added, referring to the weight of the words hanging between you.

A profound silence settled, punctuated only by the erratic beats of your heart against your ribs, In that moment, you felt that the confession of love coming from Joel was the last source of breath you needed to become a person again.

And then, he kissed you. With a warning written on his dark eyes, yet you didn't see it coming. He kissed you because there wasn't anything else to do. He wanted to claim your lips as them because they were his.

Joel's lips lingered against yours, the warmth of his kiss irradiated foreign feelings for you. You had never felt so loved for someone before, and as the kiss deepened, a subtle smile played on his lips, a rare expression coming from him.

He pulled away slightly, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. His hands, calloused and weathered, gently caressed your face, tracing the contours of the scars on your face.

"You're not leaving," he spoke against your lips, with another gentle peck on them.

A shy smile played on your lips in response. "Whatever,” you replied.

Joel's confession had acted as a healing salve, mending not just the physical scars but also the emotional ones that had marked your journey through this world.

Joel's eyes softened as he caught the playful glint in your smile, and a warmth seemed to spread through the room. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The strength in his arms felt like a shield against the harshness of the world outside.

"You can be stubborn as hell, you know that?" he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

As he held you in his arms, the world outside faded away, and all that remained was the warmth of the embrace and the quiet assurance of shared moments.

"Get some rest," he murmured, his voice a soothing whisper. "I'll be right here."

With Joel's arms wrapped around you, the weariness of the day and the weight of the past seemed to dissolve.

In the arms of Joel, the night embraced you, and as you closed your eyes, you found life worth living because of him.

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Series: Come away, O human child! Part 1:

Secrets hidden in plain sight

Spencer Reid/fem!Reader

Read part 2 here

Warnings: mention of domestic violence and abusive relationship. Reader is married and has a son.

Summary: Spencer meets the son and wife of one of the police officers they are helping at the moment. There's something strange about them.

You could swear that William had made it his life's mission to turn you gray as soon as possible. You couldn't look away for a second and he'd disappear into the crowd. To make matters worse, you were at the police station to drop off your husband's lunch, which he had forgotten at home. You planned to drop it off and leave as quickly as you could, as the whole atmosphere always made you uncomfortable, but it wasn't as if you felt comfortable anywhere.

You knew he had to be somewhere in there, so you started searching the rooms as quickly as possible, passing the other police officers who were looking at you in confusion and trying not to let despair take over. William was safe in there. It wasn't because Steve's colleagues looked away when you appeared injured that they would do your son any harm.

You just prayed you'd find William before Steve did, or you'd never hear the end of how you didn't take care of his son properly. The son he barely remembered he had, even though they lived in the same house.

"Willy? Willy! Thank God!" you exclaimed, seeing your little 5-year-old son's head from afar and approaching at a fast pace. "Don't ever do that again, William! You've got me worried to death!"

The boy at least had the decency to look embarrassed as he whispered an apology.

"I'm sorry, if I'd known you were his mother I would have taken him to you," a voice said.

That's when you became aware of the presence of a strange man, one you'd never seen in the police station before and who wasn't wearing a uniform. Tense, you stood in front of Willy and looked at him suspiciously. He was tall, with brown curls adorning a face that would have made you blush if you were still at college, but at the moment, he was the suspicious man talking to your son.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, right, I'm sorry," he muttered as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and showed you his ID. "Agent Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI. We're helping with the case of the missing girls."

Spencer avoided frowning when he saw that even your identity didn't completely reassure you, you still looked as tense as before, even though you were no longer hiding your child behind your body. Being a profiler, he couldn't help but analyze other people, focusing on the way you looked tired, with dark circles under your eyes and your skin pale in an almost unhealthy way, your long-sleeved shirt being too hot. You didn't seem to be attacking him, you seemed to be defending yourself. As if you genuinely believed that Spencer was going to hurt you. It was strange.

"Mom, he's a wizard! It's incredible!" William exclaimed, attracting their attention.

You turned your focus away from Spencer for a moment, giving your son a weak smile as you stroked his hair, even though you didn't know what he was talking about.

"Um..." Spencer began, and you turned to see what he was going to say. "I thought it would be a good idea to distract him with magic tricks, you know? While I couldn't find his parents."

Forcing yourself to relax, you took a deep breath before flashing your most genuine forced smile at the FBI agent.

"Thank you for that. He's so hyper."

"No need to thank me, he was a great stagehand."

The doctor's smile seemed genuine in a way you hadn't seen in a long time and it almost unsettled you. You didn't like that, you couldn't have predicted what would come next. With Steve, you almost always knew what to do. When to send William to his room so he wouldn't see anything that would traumatize him, when to apologize, and when to stay silent. Spencer Reid was a valley of strangeness that you decided you hated.

"There you are! I thought you weren't coming." You heard the grumble of that familiar voice, the heavy footsteps coming closer and closer and you had to remind yourself that he wouldn't do anything in public.

"I was just... a little late."

Spencer knew exactly how to recognize fear when he saw it. It was an instinctive reaction, the immediate shudder when she heard the voice of the policeman approaching the three of them. The man was part of the search team he had been introduced to earlier. No one worth paying much attention to so far.

"Dad." William spoke, much more withdrawn than before, albeit with a small smile on his face.

Reid understood what he was doing; the boy was waiting for an instruction from his mother. He had seen enough tense family dynamics in his life.

When you left, going out with Steve - your husband, probably, the rings matched - her gaze met Spencer's again. What he saw there made any explanation unnecessary.

- Hey, Reid. Come and look at this. - Derek called out.

Distracted by work for the rest of the day, Spencer still couldn't get his gaze off his head. It was empty. Without any kind of hope. Without even the desperation that would at least indicate that you were trying to ask for help.

"Morgan," he said at a random moment in the day, making his friend turn to him, "how often do you think women accept abuse at home because they have children?"

Derek snorted.

"In my experience? All the time."

That made his stomach sink.

In the next chapter: Spencer sees a mark on you. He decides that if no one is going to do anything about it, then he will. If only he can convince you to accept help.

[yoredoesmore]

hallooo,it's me again:)) may I request soshiro x reader forced marriage angst but happy ending

I hope I'm not bothering you:). it's ok if you don't want to make it

a/n: i could never say no to such a beautiful request! i love writing angst muahaha

pairing: hoshina soshiro x blind!reader

cw: forced marriage, physical and emotional abuse

genre: angst/ hurt comfort/romance/fluff [wc: 2,9k ]

a/n: this story takes place in the meiji era!

a/n: i am so upset the fic idea in my head was so cute but now that im proof reading its ass 😭 i am so not satisfied with this but maybe a part two will safe it idk rip 😭 and i have to post something can't have u guys go to bed/work/whatever unfed 😔

edited a/n: is this even forced marriage omg 😭🐵

still, enjoy!

A Vision of Love | Hoshina Soshiro

The world around you had long lost its colors. Your vision was plagued, cursed to pick up the world in vibrations and tones instead of images.

The gods have plotted against your existence long before you had been born, cursing the path you were destined to walk on with failure and hardship.

“You are no child of mine!”

The feeling of your father's hand was imprinted in both your memories and mind. A gruesome sensation, one that had no problems seeking you unannounced. On some days the beast would simply barge into your chambers, striking you to his heart's content.

And for what? All for being unable to carry out his legacy.

“Blind and weak, we should have killed you the second we saw those impurities!”

No day passed by when he wasn't cursing your existence but you had been all too used to it..

You sat kneeled on the engawa of your estate, scrubbing the long corridor facing the entrance. It was one of the many tasks given to you which had to be completed by noon. Pearls of sweat accumulated on your forehead, dripping down the side of your face and staining the cloth of your clothes but that told you that you were almost done.

You heard voices chatting in the distance. Some belonging to your family members and others to the Kaseifu, yet you were able to make out three voices foreign to your ears.

“Please come this way.”

Your father greeted the guests with fake hospitality. It irked you immensely, listening to him put up an act of dishonesty but there was nothing you could have done about it.

As soon as you finished up your work, you brought away the cloth and the rag and hurried back to your room using the back entrance. No using the main entrance when guests are around– another strict rule you had to follow.

They stopped bothering you a long time ago, the harsh rules and strict regulations forced upon you by your family. It was unfortunately not just your father who harassed you but also your mother and siblings– though their approaches of breaking your spirit were more subtle. They whispered and gossiped, calling you all kinds of names to lower your spirit.

All to make themselves feel better.

Your family was a renown clan known for its fighting skills and birthing people of strong flesh. In the world of Kaiju slayers, your family stood on top with another handful of carefully selected clans. But as dysfunctional as you were, ripped of your vision at birth and your laughable body, there was no place for you in the limelight. Thus you had been hidden away in the back of your clan, mixed with the maids and housekeepers to keep the knowledge about your existence to a minimum.

But all that was about to change.

“Lady Y/n.”

The voice of Madam Kiyoko called out for you, the only woman to treat you with kindness in this place.

“Yes, Madam Kiyoko?”

The woman's voice was gentle and sweet, like honey and milk. It calmed your heart and made you feel loved in a way you were unable to experience anywhere else. But this time something lingered in her voice? A hint of grief? Frustration? Even without seeing her face, you somehow knew that the woman was not displaying a smile on her lips.

“I was sent by your father. ..You are to pack your things immediately and prepare yourself for permanent departure..”

“Permanent..excuse me?” The tone in Kiyoko's voice painted your ears, so much that you wished to cover them and hide away.

“Your father has..given you away to another family, therefore I wish to congratulate you on your engagement.” The fabrics of Kiyoko's Kimono shifted, hinting to you that she had gone down to her knees.

There was no word that could properly describe the look of horror on your face. Pain, disgust and vexation– all these emotions tugged on your heart, forcing it to fall into unbearable agony. You suddenly felt all strength leaving your legs, forcing you to fall to the ground.

Hot tears ran down your face as you allowed muffled cries to escape your mouth. You wanted to scream and curse, run over to your father and rip all air from his lungs..

But you of all people knew too well that this day would have come sooner or later.

How else were you going to get engaged? You, who was unable to leave her house without supervision. You, who was seen as garbage in her own home. This was long overdue.

“Lady Y,n..we mustn't waste any time.” Madam Kiyoko spoke, her arms wrapping around yours to lift you back up.

“No..I don't want to, they can't do this!” Although living here was torture, it was the only home you have ever know. A small part of you always hoped to just die here. Life was cruel but at least there was food and a bed waiting for you at the end of each day. There was no telling how the people outside these gates were going to treat a blind woman like you, especially a family selected by your father. The unknown was much more intimidating than the familiar horrors.

“Child, I beg of you to grasp your heart and look at the future with confidence.” The woman tried to encourage you to take the situation with pride. But you couldn't. The fact that someone had accepted you as a wife could only mean that they were worse off than you. Who else would accept such worthless and weak soul into their family? Or perhaps they were like your family, looking forward to abuse and make use of you.

“You musn't refuse your duty as a woman, Lady Y/n, as a daughter of this house. I beg you.” Madam Kiyoko pulled you back up and dusted your Kimono.

“I know that this treatment is unjust and sudden, but anywhere in this world is better than here.”

“But I don't mind the horror! The pain and the humiliation..because I have you..”

Once again the tone in the woman's voice tugged on your heartstrings. The truth in her statement tasted bitter on your tongue. You did not wish to admit that she was right, that living here was a hell your body couldn't bear much longer.

Madam Kiyoko walked you to your chambers and helped you pack your belongings. There wasn't much, only a few essentials which you held dear. As you were preparing for your departure, you heard a soft chuckle from behind you.

“I heard that the Hoshina clan is as good as useless in this modern day and age, since the Kaiju have grown in size.” One of your sisters snickered from behind you.

“Yeah, and that their sons are as incapable as they come.” Your brother mocked.

Their voices were mere background sounds, easy to blend out. Your fingers traced themselves over the silver hairpin in your hand, a gift from the Madam.

“I will forget all about you once I leave this home. The memories, your voices and your scent. What a blessing it ends up being to be born blind, as I have no faces which I will have to wipe from my memories.” Your words stung your siblings in the guts. One of them stepped forward, your brother, ready to strike you down. But madam Kiyoko quickly extended her hand to shield your body from the abuse.

“Do not dare touch the Lady. She is an engaged woman now and therefore no longer under the rule of this household. Striking her would mean raising your hands against the Hoshina clan and I highly suggest that you do not make yourself an enemy of them.”

“She won't survive a week outside these gates. Compared to the people outside, our treatment was merciful. In this day and age there is no space for those who cannot protect themselves, tsk.” Your brother gave you one last glare before he and your sister left your room.

“This family can no longer harm you, child. So look at your future and smile, don't listen to his nonsense.” The warm hands of the woman embrace you in a comforting hug. If only you could take her with you and start your new life together..it was a hopeless wish but one you hung onto regardless

x

Nobody came to send you off besides Lady Kiyoko. With your bag packed and your heart set to leave, you approached the front gate. You refused to look back as you walked into your new life, each step feeling foreign and intimidating.

You were raised in a traditional household. From the building to the rules it reminded you of the old times. Therefore standing in front of the public transport with no navigation or sense of familiarity deeply frightened you. You could feel them all watching, the people on the train. Surely they were judging your lack of vision and pitying your weak form.

It took you quite some time to arrive at the destination, the lack of any known directions making the journey much more treacherous. But after two hours, you finally arrived at the Houshina estate. If it had been for the old couple you met at your station who guided you all the way here you would have been lost for sure.

“That is just the path we wanted to take!”

They said and took you by the hand. It felt strange, putting your trust into two unknown strangers. For a good minute you believed that they were leading you to a nearby cliff, for whatever reason. But your doubt slowly vanished as they began to talk about their day and all the errands which they had to run.

You took a deep breath and fixed your Kimono before knocking at the gate. There was no guarantee that anybody was going to hear you but this was the only way you knew how to make yourself known.

After around five minutes and almost giving up hope, you heard a shift in motion. The gate opened and before you stood a stranger. They didn't say anything and simply looked you up and down you assumed. Then they spoke up.

“Oh, it's you.”

What an interesting dialect..

Unsure of who was standing before you, you went down on your knees to show your respects.

“My name is L/n Y/n and I am the betrothed of Hoshina Soshiro. It is my utmost pleasure to meet you.”

“There is no need to be so formal, please. And get up, ya Kimono is getting all dirty.” A pair of strong hands suddenly placed themselves on your shoulders and helped you find your way back up.

A scent so sweet was attached to the stranger, one that had a strange note to it. Yet you stayed focused and continued the conversation.

“Did you come here all by yourself??” The stranger sounded almost appalled.

“Yes..is there a problem with that?”

“Your family reassured us that they were going to send someone with you, since you are..”

His eyes locked with yours. Light gray orbs sat in your sockets, robbed of all light. Yet there was a glimmer inside them, one that shone brighter than the sun itself.

“Excuse me for asking, but who am I speaking to?”

“I am just a housekeeper. Anyway, let's get ya inside and perhaps, you must have a long journey behind you.”

“Thank you very much.” The housekeeper took your hands in his, a soft warmth spreading over your entire body. His bold action startled you slightly but you did not allow your discomfort to display on your face.

“Not having an official wedding must be quite frustrating I believe?”

Is this..smalltalk?

“I never clung to the desire of partaking in such festivity. I was told from a very young age that I wasn't deserving of a wedding, let alone marriage. My father eventually giving me away to a family with no future was to be expected.”

“A family with no future?”

“Oh my, I didn't mean it like that! I apologize for insulting your masters..”

“No offense taken. I understand what ya were trying to say.” The soft sliding of wooden doors indicated to you that you were now entering the building. Almost immediately you were greeted by the sweet scent of lavender and tangerines, two odors that completed one another perfectly.

The housekeeper continued to guide you through the building, holding on to your hand so tight you feared he was going to melt into you. Yet despite his grip being so fierce, his touch was gentle and almost protective. You were not used to such kindness, therefore you found it difficult to express your gratitude once he let go when you arrived in the space which you believed was your room.

“When will the rest of your belongings arrive?” The housekeeper asked while taking the bag from your hands. Your silence said all he needed to know.

“If you need anything, don't hesitate to–”

“Young Master? A letter has arrived from the Anti-Kaiju Defense Force, requesting your presence. Oh and has the young woman arrived already? We heard the gates–”

..Master?

Your head turned to meet the voice at the door. A young woman, you assumed, stood at the entrance of your room, her words and turn indicating that she was talking to the housekeeper.

“Oh, she is already here?? Why wasn't your father notified!” The woman scolded.

“Thank you Ayame, I will see to the letter shortly. And I wanted some alone time with her first, I'm sure my father will understand."

All the woman did was sigh, as if she was too used to his behavior and excused herself from the room.

It didn't even take you five seconds to realize what was going on. Your face froze up upon realizing, a soft gasp leaving from your lips.

“I..apologize for deceiving you.” Soshiro sighed. “I didn't know how to properly introduce myself when I saw you back then and just went with the moment.”

Embarrassed? Shame? Anxiety? You did not know what to feel first. The words you spoke only minutes ago suddenly came back to hit you like whiplash. You just told your soon to be husband that you had no faith in his family, to his face, the gods were probably laughing at you right now. Not just them, but also your siblings and parents.

Their voices rang through your ears, eating at your consciousness. Not even a day had passed and you already managed to screw up, what a twisted joke this was.

“Ya ain't upset with me, right?”

All thoughts suddenly started to disappear into thin air as his fingers once again wrapped themselves around your hands. Only now did you realize how soft they were, like sunflower petals. And the distant scent of vanilla that lingered on his skin, it was soothing in a way you could not describe.

In an instant you found yourself calming down and remembered that you were no longer in that household. Five minutes have been spent in this foreign place so far, yet it felt much more comforting than your old home. Why was that?

“Saying that your family has no future when I am the one who lacks the ability to function properly..I am so very sorry..”

“Don't tell me yer apologizing for being blind?” Soshiro placed one of his hands on your head, gently caressing your hair with his fingers.

“I don't know much about ya or what you went through before. All I was told is that your family did not think highly of ya and therefore signed you away to the next available family. But just by looking at ya I can tell that you are much more valuable than ya think.” And with that said, Soshiro gave your head a light squeeze.

These gentle touches were so new to you. Being embraced in such a loving way and taken by the hand as if you were too important to lose– and not to mention by a man you just met..it all felt quite unreal.

Soshiro suddenly started to move away from you, the lack of his warmth mildly bothering your conscience, but he had somewhere important to be.

“We shall converse more once I return from my appointment, most likely together with my father. The others will want to meet you so prepare yourself for that. If they barge into your room feel free to send them away”

“Send them away? I could never do that” Hosanna laughed although you didn't say anything funny?

“Im looking forward to future interactions.”

“I..me too.”

To have something to look forward to..did you ever have that in your life? The feelings in your heart were difficult to describe. Was it truly possible for you to find happiness in a place full of strangers and foreign emotions? To seek comfort in the arms of a man you barely even knew? As Soshiro walked out of your room, you quickly searched for the hair pin that Madam Kiyoko had gifted to you. Your fingers embraced it tight, trying to recreate the warmth which you felt moments ago.

Something deep down in your heart wanted to trust his words and believe that you too could experience true happiness in this lifetime. Therefore you desperately held onto this vision of love, in hopes that one day your future would be painted in its beautiful colors.

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Itadori who’s been influenced by Sukuna to kidnap the reader please ; maybe reader can summon moth curses 🦋 gn or female is fine with me 💗 please and thank u 

Sure! Gonna keep it a general concept idea for this but I hope you like it :)

Yandere! Yuji Itadori/Sukuna Kidnapping Their Obsession

Pairing: Romantic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Dark themes, Violence, Guilt, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji himself wouldn't kidnap unless influenced in some way.

Be that your safety... or Sukuna's teasing whispers.

Sukuna would influence Yuji to 'take what he wants.'

Due to Yuji being a host, Sukuna can tell what he's feeling.

It irritates Sukuna to no end to feel Yuji so obsessed about you yet not doing anything about it.

All Yuji does is look at you with adoration.

He keeps his crush to himself and just lets it fester.

Sukuna can tell Yuji wants to confess, that he wants you two dating.

Sukuna originally just decides to tease him on it.

He looks like a pathetic lovesick puppy when it comes to you.

Yuji follows you everywhere, never has his eyes off you, and just becomes a mess when speaking to you.

Sukuna originally wants to use his feelings against him.

It would be such a shame if Sukuna came out and tore you to shreds, right?

Sukuna likes to rile him up, laughing when Yuji yells at him to cut it out.

Sukuna's like the manifestation of Yuji's impulsive thoughts.

He's always taunting and telling Yuji what to do around you.

It would be very troublesome for you if Sukuna decided that... well... having a second toy isn't a bad idea.

Which leads into Sukuna encouraging Yuji to act.

He can feel how badly the brat loves you, it's starting to affect Sukuna of all people.

Your technique of Curse Summoning isn't half bad, not that strong but... enough.

Sukuna thinks the brat picked well.

So... why doesn't he do them both a favor and hurry it up?

"Brat, aren't you worried someone will take them for themselves?"

Sukuna essentially tries to goad Yuji into taking the bait.

Isn't he scared of losing you?

Seriously, any of these other Sorcerer brats could claim you before he does.

Yuji would ignore Sukuna for as long as he can.

Yuji is aware of how volatile Sukuna is.

The last thing he wants is him losing control of Sukuna and hurting you.

At the same time, however...

Yuji does worry you'll find someone else.

But... he can make that work, right?

He'll be patient... he'll just wait things out so you won't get hurt.

Let's be honest though... Sukuna will wear down Yuji eventually.

Soon there'd be a lapse in judgment, maybe due to Yuji eating more of Sukuna's fingers.

Taking you could go one of two ways.

Yuji snaps and listens to Sukuna's orders.

Sukuna takes over and takes you for Yuji.

Either method acts the same, although the second one is rather... aggressive.

Yuji would feel guilt eat away at him once he has you in a secluded place.

Sukuna's laughing at him, commenting about how weak you look tied to that chair in such a dark room.

Yuji almost can't believe it.

He... he did this, didn't he?

Yuji wants to blame Sukuna, Sukuna did this.

However, Sukuna tells a different story.

"This is your fault, y'know. You let your emotions cloud your mind too often. You're so easy to exploit."

Yuji can't help but believe him.

Yeah... maybe this was his fault.

Maybe you wouldn't have to go through this... if he had a better grip on Sukuna.

This is his fault....

"Don't look so pathetic... enjoy your prize, will you? Or must I do it for you?"

Yuji feels horrible that he snapped... but...

He can't help but wander closer, ignoring Sukuna's nagging and taunting.

Unconscious you look so... peaceful.

It reminds him that he's always wanted to protect such peace.

He always wants you happy and cared for... he wants to be the source of your comfort.

Yuji doesn't stop himself when he tilts your chin up.

The way your eyes flutter open makes his cheeks feel warm.

He almost forgets what he's done until you panic.

Yuji's snapped out of his delusions for just a moment, backing off when you throw questions at him.

However... your words go through one ear and out the other.

Sukuna finds such a change in the brat hilarious.

He's also pleased since now he has a new toy.

Yuji's too caught up in looking at you to comprehend your words.

Then he notices your tears.

Yuji immediately rushes up to you to wipe your tears away.

He's gentle with his touch, almost like he didn't kidnap you.

You stare at him and he stares back, gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

"Yuji, what's going on?" He hears you ask, "Please let me go...!"

Yuji pauses, he really should let you go, huh?

He knows he needs to...

But he can't.

"... It's going to be okay."

Yuji's voice is in a whisper, stroking your cheek as your breathing picks up.

"There's nothing to be scared of... I promise."

His voice is soft, like he isn't the problem.

"Let me go..." You try again, only for Yuji to place a finger to your lips.

"I want to..." Yuji continues in a sweet tone as he looks into your eyes.

"But I don't think I can now."

It's then Yuji kisses your lips, pushing away any second thoughts.

He can hear Sukuna laughing in pleasure and feel you struggling... yet right now, he doesn't care.

Right now... he knows you're finally his....

"You're welcome, brat."

[kuniihoonii]

Don't Leave Me

Warnings: angst, hurt comfort(?), Scaramouche has suicidal thoughts, he has trust issues. Not proof read. Feel free to correct any spelling mistakes !

You both know each other and you never left Scaramouche's side however his trust issues don't let him believe you won't actually leave him.. maybe up until now.

A/N: hellaur~ had a small idea for angst scara since I'm still heartbroken over the fact that no one caught him after the battle so 😔 had to make a drabble of it <3. It's been a while since I wrote soooo finally got something going. I have more thoughts for writing ideas !! Hopefully I'll come around to them soon.

Nahida and Traveler had just left the joururi workshop where they battled with Scaramouche. Now he's left hanging from his machine by the wires that connect to his back. Tears rolling down his cheeks but he doesn't make a sound. He's looking blankly at the ground which is a couple feet up away from him.. he just hopes the fall will take him out now.

He's so tired of living the life where no one wants him and everyone either hurts or betrays him if not both. He's almost counting seconds to his fall until you come in. He doesn't notice you at first. His want to be gone is too loud for him to hear your footsteps.

Meanwhile when you see him your eyes widen. Youve heard there was some fight going on with Scaramouche and you knew you had to come as fast as you could. You know him, you were probably the only one who understood him but his trust issues make it hard for him to understand why you care for him.

So now, you're running up under where his hanging from the machine and that's when you get into his line of vision and his eyes slightly widen at the sight of you.

"you.. what are-" he gets cut off by a snap. The wires connected to his back from the machine break and you catch him before he can hit the ground. You stumble back slightly onto the ground but you still have him in your hold as you're now sitting on the ground.

His eyes are widened in shock.. trying to process why you're here.. and.. is this reality or is he breaking into insanity. The warmth of you body against his, and the feeling of your heart beating against his chest makes him realise this is still reality and you really are here for him.

"why didnt you leave me like the rest of them" He asks you. His voice weak and weary. You hold him closer at the sound of his voice, your heart aching at the sound of him. It's clear he's still so used to people leaving him, betraying him and hurting him. You don't blame him for feeling that way with all that he's been through.

"I don't want to leave you." You tell him with a soft, caring voice which makes him look at you. He subconsciously relaxes into your arms. He's so touch starved, he doesn't want you to let go. His walls start to slowly break down.

"Kuni, you know I'll always be here for you. I've always stuck with you and I won't leave you now, not ever." You tell him and he can hear the honesty in your voice. He lets out a soft sigh as he hears you use his old nickname too.

He closes his eyes, "don't leave me.." is all he has the energy to say. Your heart aches more at his voice. His voice sounding so weak, exhausted.

You let out a soft sigh and hold him closer to you. "I won't leave you. I promise." You say truthfully. There's no more words exchanged between you both. You stay there like that for a moment longer.

He's too tired to keep his guard up and a part of him trusts you. After all.. you wouldn't be there for him right now if you'd plan on leaving him... Right? Your promise makes him feel somewhat at ease too.

He hesitantly wraps his arms around you too and he closes his eyes, melting into your touch as you're the only one bringing him comfort now. You're the only one who's brought him comfort after so long of not having anyone to give him comfort. He really hopes you won't leave him like everyone else did, this thought makes him tighten his arms around you. Scared of losing you too.

You speak up once more to him. "It's okay.. you're okay now. I won't ever leave you, Kunikuzushi". Your words are like a bandage to his wounds.

[uhohdad]

cries i don't think my ask went thru i don't know how to tell when ur doing requests or whatever anyways. i love bullying soft!könig i imagine it's hard to break him down at first but he's got some weaknesses? right?. ?? i had this idea.

do you think he's into masochism. so used to pain on the battlefield and a lack of pleasure seeking back at the base its because its still work, what does he even have to do on breaks?? on leave?? is he used to the loneliness?? has he accepted it or does a piece of him still crave??? does he feel like he deserves it and it creates this twisted perversion upon himself to love how he hates the way he loves.

what if you met him at a hole-in-the-wall bar. they serve dinner and drinks and there's always someone on the stage singing a song. you go there to eat the delicious food and listen to the local artists and occasionally a drink, but you're alone most of the time.

then this mountain of a man comes in, hunched like he's trying to make himself shrink out of existence, tentatively walk up to the bar. he's obv not local. his eyes darting around nervously, orders something you can't understand, but you're feeling thirsty and the waiter hasn't come around for 30 minutes.

you saunter up to the bar and order yourself dessert and look at the stranger. he makes fleeting eye contact, maybe you smile. something draws you in. "You new to town?" you might say. he nods. you talk a little, order him a drink. maybe he's a lightweight, or you just made him feel less crazy, because now you're both back at your booth sharing the dessert you ordered, talking about how weird other people are and how it's nice to talk to someone down to earth. it's so strange and it's so nice and the night goes on, and somehow, still, you find yourself falling for This Stranger, and so at some point, one of you takes the other by the hand, you're scooting closer. some silly sense of connection makes you feel comfortable enough to let your hand sit on his thigh. he's got blue eyes. drinking you in. you start touching him under the table. rubbing his thigh thru his cargo pants, gripping your nails through and letting him lean in with bourbon-cholocate lingering in his breath and something else, something desperate. you're letting your hand slip down his pants (at some point the belt was off. and it wasn't by your doing) and palming at his swollen cock. you can feel it throb. blue eyes. you can feel his breath on your neck as he leans in, trying to hide all this under the premise of vulnerability, a hug, but you know it's more. he wants something.

you let your nails graze his balls and feel them tighten. he's hot to the touch but his fingers are cold as they hover above your hand. he guides you back up to hold his cock. keep going, he urges. he doesn't have to even say it.

you're raking your nails down his pelvis to then grasp and pull his cock. pumping it with a slick hand and thumbing the tip with your thumbnail. he's trembling. his breath pitches in your ear like a barely concealed whine. don't stop. don't stop even when it hurts. you jerk him off til he cums with a shuddering exhale and his knees hitting the underside of the table. you don't stop. you squeeze and pump him with his new slick, moving faster, there's sweat on his forehead and your shirt and he's barely keeping composure as you rake red lines down his shaft as he thrusts pathetically up into your hand, overstimulated and shaking at the realization he loves it, he loves this.

do you think he's into masochism.

you come onto my blog, sweet anon, you gift me the most delicious, scrumptious, beautiful concept and smut?? you upstage me on my own blog, sweet anon??

if i wasn’t into it before, i sure am now baby 😍😍😍

this is gold top to bottom but that second paragraph is ARTTTTTT

[auroreliis]

Hi can you please write a fic of yandere batfam with fem reader who is so so so in love with this guy that she's friends with, maybe the batfam get to take her to a party because they don't trust her on her own thinking she'd try to escape so they bring her but her friends are there and they see her stuttering and blushing with one guy. She looks so in love with him and is completely head over heels. Can I request a whole long fic for this?

Can do! I did have to change it a little in order to make the yandere-ish concept a little more apparent. Hope you don't mind ^^

Platonic Yandere!Batfam

Summary: You're in love, but how does your family feel about it?

CW: slight social isolation

(not edited or proofread)

"No", Dick's words caused to to turn to him.

"I asked dad, not you", you argued, not content with his reply.

"I said no, it doesn't matter who you asked. The answer is no. You will not be going to that party", Richard stated firmly.

"Your brother has a point, you go to school to learn things, not to make friends. You have no reason to go to that party.", your father chimed in.

"Please, dad. Can I please go?", you begged, hoping to change his mind.

Bruce sighed inaudibly, "I'm sorry, but no."

You huffed in disappointment before leaving angrily.

This was ridiculous.

They didn't allow you to participate in any human interaction outside of the manor.

You did have friends, but they only recently found out about it.

There was this person in your friend group who made your knees weak.

However, you couldn't tell them that they were the reason you wanted to go to the party, because they would fume.

You had no idea what they would do, if they found out that you were in love with someone, but you assume that they would hurt them or something.

You slammed your door shut, hoping they heard it and maybe decided to change their minds, before throwing yourself onto your bed.

They were hopeless, utterly hopeless.

A knock on your door made you think that they had, in fact, changed their minds, but you opened the door to find Jason standing there, instead.

"What's wrong, kiddo?", Jason asked.

"I'm not a kid. Also, dad and Dick won't let me go to a party", you muttered in defeat, slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was no way you were going to see your beloved.

"A party, well, they probably assume you'll be doing drugs or some other shit. No wonder they won't let you", Jason tried to comfort you.

"Drugs? What, no! Obviously not! I just want to spend time with my friends", you defended yourself.

Jason hummed in thought.

"Alright, if you agree to spend time with with me, I'll take you to the party", he spoke, a smug grin on his face, since he knew you would agree.

"What will we be doing?", you stalled, feeling this was too good to be true.

"I won't tell you yet, so make your choice."

A groan escaped your lips, "Fine. Just take me to that party!"

Huffing in defeat, you stood in front of the entrance, not willing to go in yet.

"This...isn't quite what I had in mind", you spoke, tugging at the handcuff attached to your right hand and Jason's left.

"Well, I can't let you leave, can I? Bruce would kill me", he spoke, obviously not concerned at all.

"Well, if I enter this house chained to you, people are going to think that YOU'LL kill ME."

Jason gasped dramatically, "I would never!"

You didn't bother replying.

You just wanted to go back home at this point.

You would rather not be chained to Jason, but there was no way that he would let you run around freely like that. You should've known.

Your hand lightly tugged at the handcuff, hoping it would release you from its bounds, but to no avail.

"Listen, if ya don't wanna go in, we can go back home-" "No!", you cut him off.

You decided that you would like to see your beloved first.

Talking to them was...awkward to say the least. Jason was chained to your hand and all but stared holes through your beloved.

They were quite intimidated and left.

Not only was your brother scary, but you were also shaking, not from fear though, you were so nervous about talking to them, that you barely formed a full sentence.

This was dreadful to you.

Jason, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He doesn't get invited to parties often, so this was new for him. Not that he was invited to this one or anything.

"Let's go", you mumbled to him, after all of your friends left out of fear.

"Already? I thought you were so desperate to go to this party?", he mocked.

That tone. You immediately recognised that tone.

He was making fun of you.

He was purposefully scaring away your friends.

Your blood boiled and for a moment you were tempted to punch him, but he was much stronger than you and would undoubtedly get irritated if you tried.

So you stayed silent, taking in all of the information you just recieved. He probably only offered to take you to the party to see who your friends were.

You scolded yourself for not realising sooner.

Of course.

Why else would he take you to the party?

He only ever makes things difficult for you.

You should've known.

Your mind wandered for the rest of the night.

All of your memories were blurry. You don't even remember how you got home, all you remember was throwing yourself onto your bed.

You were lost in thought.

They didn't even let you fall in love. Would you ever be able to have a normal life again?

There was a knock at the door.

Your eyes shut and you sighed.

Here we go again.

[onskepa]

Sorry about what I writed earlier at my request you can delete my request but can I suggest to write a story with mother Neytiri and spider Gwen reader where she user to be abused by skypeople for her powers before she met Neytiri who took her under her wing and you can create the rest yourself because I am curios how you will end it:) but of course only if you want to.

Oooooooooooohhh spider man back to back! I love it! Okie, I have a lose idea for this. I type as I go. Hope you like it!

P.S: reader will also be able to breathe pandora air!

-------------------

Ghostly bruises

Spiders are scary creatures. Multiple legs and multiple eyes. Small yet strong. Never underestimate their size. Many carry venom and that is enough to take down anything. Their webs to lure in prey, create a home for themselves. Their eyes to see in many directions and legs to crawl faster. 

Many underestimate what they can do. What they're capable of. When push comes to shove, spiders will attack. And when they attack, you better hope that you make it out alive. They may be small, harmless, but a spider does what it does best. Lure you into their web and trap you to meet your demise. 

Your pov

“HEY! GET UP BUG!” 

Damn it. Damn it all. I just want at least 1 hour of sleep. Is that too much to ask? Apparently not for these people. 

I don't really have a choice. I should be grateful that they didn't pour cold water to wake me up. So that is something. 

Putting on that skin tight suit I wear, I get ready for another mission. 

The suit, while tight in every way, was one the few comforts I have. Personally designed it to my liking. I'm just glad they did not force me to wear what they wanted me to wear. 

Wearing all my favorite colors, and a hoodie as a plus. 

I make my way to general Ardmore. That old cranky woman. How is she not retired is beyond me. 

“Rise and shine bug, got a new mission for you” she tells me. There is always a new mission. Once I'm done with one, she quickly gives me another, leaving very little to no room for rest. Even my advanced stamina needs to recharge! 

“What is it this time?” I ask, as patient as I can. 

“An import train will be passing the valley in the south in 15 hours. If you don't know already, there is a cave the train has to pass through. Clever blues hide in the dark to amish. Your job is to cover any holes, edges, corners, and nooks with your webs. You have 10 hours to get it done. We don't want any surprises” 

Is she serious?

“10 hours? Do you have any idea how large that cave is? I will be dry within 5!” I argue. 

Ardmore just rolls her eyes, that bitch. 

“Not my problem. Get to it, now” 

“Now hold on there-AAARRGGHH!!” I felt that familiar electrical hit on my back. Falling on my side, I see her goons got that shock stick. They continue to shock me, my sides, neck, hip. They love to torment me. 

“Get up bug, I don't want you wasting time” 

“Y-yes ma’am” I said weakly. 

I hate sounding weak. It only enforces their view on me. A bug, a mere insect they can step on. 

Third pov 

There was a tip given from the science guys that a train would pass through the starlight cave. Within a few hours it would pass but the steam the train releases would damage the nocturne creatures living in that cave. They were rare creatures as their way of life is rather fragile. Anything can easily ruin their environment and their lives. 

Neytiri took the stand to lead a group of warriors to protect the cave and set up traps before the train would even make an appearance. Neytiri was not afraid, she would trample down any machine or demon that dares to hurt her planet. 

This mission would be no different. 

Norm said they had only a limited time to set up defense areas and traps. So no time is to be wasted. 

So neytiri goes with some trusted warriors. 

Upon arriving at the cave, there was already the sight of sky demons. Lying low, neytiri and the other na’vi would silently scatter as they took aim at the entrance of the cave. 

From what they can see, 6 humans were guarding the entrance, from time to time turning around to talk to someone that was inside. So there were more. Its fine. 

Neytiri has taken down hundreds within minutes. This would be nothing. 

“HEY BUG! GO FASTER ON THOSE WEBS!” one of the humans shouted. 

Two of them muttered to each other, grinning in a sickening way. Then two of the 6 guards went inside the cave while pulling out two electrical rods. 

Neytiri hates those rods. She has been hit with those once, never again does she want to feel that painful experience. Seeing them again, she wonders who will be receiving the end of those shocks. 

Shaking her head, she signals the other na’vi to strike. 

Pulling back her bow, neytiri takes aim, and like a silent rain, all arrows landed perfectly onto their targets. Good, 4 down, few more to go. 

Signaling the other warriors to go inside the cave, Neytiri runs towards the entrance. She notices there is a small light blue flickering light deep in the cave. Along with evil laughter and someone screaming. They sounded to be in so much pain. Not wasting another second neytiri and the other na’vi ran further into the cave and saw a horrific sight. 

The two humans use their electrical rods to shock and torture a young person. They laugh as they poke the person around. Clearlying enjoying the person's suffering. 

“STOP IT!! STOP IT!!!” It sounded like a young girl. Her voice cracking, trying to get away from the two humans but they only get closer. 

“COME ON BUG! GET BACK TO WORK!” one of them shouts, aiming for her wrists. 

Her whole body shakes, unable to say any words of protest. 

Neytiri couldn't handle to hear the painful screams anymore, letting out a war cry she aimed right at the heart of the human who brings pain to the young girl. With one swift move, the arrow went right through, making the first human fall to the side, bleeding out. 

The second human didnt react in time as one of the other na’vi shot their arrow through the human’s head, an instant kill. 

The rods fell from their grips, neytiri kicks them away. 

“See if there are anymore” she says, the other na’vi comply and scatter for any more humans. 

Looking down at poor girl, neytiri oddly couldn't help but feel terrible for her. Looking at her body frame, she looks to be very young. 

The girl was in a fetal position, her arms sprawled out, her wrists having terrible bruises. And not just the wrist, her face filled with scars and more bruises. Neytiri can tell she went through some terrible things. 

“Mawey…” she whispers, reaching down to touch the girl but hears a whisper. 

“Please….no more….I cant…” was all the girl said before she passed out. 

Neytiri looks at her, after witnessing what the other humans have done, she cant let the girl be alone. Who knows what she has been through, and what more she could go through if more humans come soon. So making a quick decision, neytiri gently picks up the girl, cradling her like she would with her other children. 

“Neytiri, there are no more but we noticed something” one of the na’vi returns to report to neytiri. 

“What is it?” she asks. 

“There are white strands on the other end of the cave. They feel a bit sticky, and light. Almost like the kinglor silk, but different. We don't know what it is or what animal could cause it”. 

Neytiri wants to take the girl back to the village, but there is a goal to meet. 

“Come, we will return to the village for more help” she says 

Your pov 

I woke up strangely on something soft. Like cotton. No one screamed to wake me up. I felt well rested. Scanning my area, it looks like Im in a tent. I can see the sunlight peaking in, unfamiliar smells I never smelled before. Most of all, its noisy, but not a bad noisy. I can hear distant animals, vague chatter, leaves brushing against each other. 

Clearly, I'm not at the RDA base. 

I dont remember what happened, just that I was webbing one side of the cave and then- 

Oh. 

Thats right. 

Steve and Greg were torturing me again. Using the rods to poke at me. They must have been that bored if guarding the entrance to the cave was easy. 

That still doesnt explain how I am here. 

“Oh good, you are awake, I was worried” 

A female voice spoke, slow english words but with a heavy accent. 

I turned to see a na’vi. Oh my god. 

She was so tall! Like really, really tall! 

“Its alright, I am not going to hurt you. My name is neytiri” the na’vi tells me. Keeping a distance between us. 

Is this really happening right now? 

Third pov 

Neytiri really didn't understand why she brought the young human into her village. After explaining to her mother what she witnessed, mo’at believed it was good that neytiri saved the young girl. They know humans don't treat their own kind well. 

Yet neytiri can't help but feel slightly skeptical about the girl. When the girl was passed out, she observed the girl in great detail. From the odd clothing she was wearing which almost looked like a second skin, to her mask, her stature, everything. 

Using herbal medicines, thankfully the nasty bruises were fading but her complexion seemed pale, not a healthy pale. As if she hasn't been exposed to the outside world that much. 

So many questions neytiri wants to ask, some no doubt would be sensitive to ask the young girl. She can wait, for now she just wants to treat the girl, no mattering why the need to do it. 

Is it her motherly instincts perhaps? 

Neytiri worries for her children a lot, especially her youngest. Maybe it is projection as her husband would say. Who knows, what she does know is that the girl is safe from those who harmed her. 

Your pov

“Are you feeling alright?” the na’vi asks me. 

I guess I didnt respond fast enough, still trying to process what I am looking at. 

“I…um…wait, you speak english?” I ask. 

The na’vi nods, smiling a bit. 

“Yes, I know how to speak it. I was taught very young” 

I honestly don't know much about na'vi. I have only seen a handful and most exposure I get is from the newly awakened recom avatars. 

“W-why am I here?” I hesitantly ask. Hoping she doesn't end me or hurt me any further. 

“I saw you getting hurt, they laughed at your pain. I had to stop it” she tells me. 

Looking down at my hands, remembering the cave. 

Wait, the cave! 

Quickly I got up, walking a bit wobbly towards her. She has to know! 

“A train! There will be a large train machine going through the cave! Its going to carry a lot of weapons and other things!!” I said rather a bit fast. 

She holds me tightly so that I dont fall, seeing the comparison of my arm to her hand, she can easily pick me up like a doll if she wanted to. 

“Yes, we know. Thank you for telling me. We will put traps to stop it from going” 

I shake my head, “no no, they will surround the train with shooters! They wanted me to also set traps and cover the cave! They don't want anything to interrupt it! Please! I don't know how much time has passed but its going to arrive soon!” I plead. 

Urgency was all I felt and thought of. Ardmor would kill me if she knew I was spilling their plans to the na’vi. At this point, I dont care, if the na’vi can stop the train, it would piss off ardmore, something I would love to see. 

“Cover? What do you mean cover?” the na’vi asks. 

Oh god, do I tell her? I already confessed a big chunk. 

“D-dont…dont freak out ok? I can do this….I raise my wrist, aiming at the tent pole and shot out a web string. 

Third pov 

Neytiri has never seen any human do that. Ever. 

It was the same thing the warriors found in the cave. And it comes out of her arms?? 

“I have…powers. I can shoot these things called webs. They are strong, sticky, and durable. I can do things no human can. At the cave, the RDA wanted me to use my webs to make traps and clear the way for the train” the girl explains. 

Neytiri slowly nods, taking in this newfound information. 

In her conclusion, the humans were using her like a tool. What happened at the cave, clearly the girl isnt saying a whole lot more. They probably dont see her as an equal in their species. 

“I hated doing it….please dont take me back! Please, I can help! I can show you what more I can do but please dont send me to the others!” the girl begs. Tears ready to fall from her eyes. 

“Sshhh….its alright, I won't sent you anywhere you dont like” neytiri comforts the girl. Bringing her in for a tight embrace. She is so small, so thin. Do they starve her? Restrict her food access? 

“You are safe here. I won't make you do things you dont like. My home can be your new home if you like” neytiri offers. 

The girl looks up at her, hope twinkling in her eyes. 

“R-really?” 

Third pov

“This is ghost. I have my eyes on the target, they are closing in” the young girl whispers into her mic. Observing RDA soldiers walking through the forest.

She stands upside down from a tall tree branch, a web sling already out stretched to move to the next tree.

“They are making their way to the spot” she reports. She swings to the other tree, landing with no sound. Eagerly she sees the soldiers walking right into her trap.

6 soldiers walking on foot, 10 in their new AMP suits.

Easy.

One of the soldiers stepped on the trigger, the ground they stood on was false as a camouflage cover moved to reveal spikes at the bottom. The soldiers fell into their deaths. Arrows began to fly towards the amp suits just as they were shooting at random.

She can see her fellow na’vi moving around in the foliage to avoid the bullets. That is her cue.

Swinging around in circles, the girl shoots at the glass windows and the guns. Covering their vision and aim. But she does more, carefully she aims her webs at the foot of the amp suits so that they dont move, some tripping themselves.

“GO GO GO!” she shouts, the na’vi aims their arrows at the windows of the suits, going straight through the humans that were inside. While a lot, the fight lasted a few minutes with her and the na’vi winning this fight.

Landing down, the girl looks for anything salvageable to bring back home.

“Well done my daughter”

Smiling, the girl turns to her mother, neytiri.

“Thank you my child, however I would prefer if you just stayed home,” neytiri says as she places a kiss on the girls head.

“Im fine mom, besides, with my webs, we took them down way faster. Plus, no one got shot. Less injures and more success”

While that was true, neytiri knows some raids or fights remind her daughter of her past.

“I understand, but I cannot help but worry for you. Those machines almost got you” she tells.

“Almost, but I am fast”

Chuckling, neytiri holds her daughter close, “yes, you are very fast my love”

The girl happily basks in her mothers embrace. She likes this, being held, it never gets old. Since that day, the girl loves physical affection, her new mother proves abundance and never rejects her.

Life has been easy for her, enjoyable and makes her look forward to tomorrow. Yes, the girl would sometimes think back on her past. The things she went through, at times she can feel the phantom pains from her tortures. Would rub her arms or face where the bruises used to be. But its less now.

The girl loves her new life and is forever thankful of her mother saving her. Having a new family, love, a home, it is all she ever wanted. To hell with Ardmore and her plans with the RDA. The girl for sure cant wait to see that old hag and rub it on her face. That she is more than a tool, than a bug. Ghost is more than Ardmore can ever know.

Aaaaaaaaand that is all for this one! Hopefully I managed to get as much gwen personality as I can. Kinda tricky ngl, but either way, I kinda struggled how to end it but I hope you all enjoyed! Until next time! See ya!

[homelanderbutbig]

Can I make another fic request? I'm a huge lover of fluff, but this time can I get some angst to fluff? I was thinking maybe homie being told that s/o has been attacked by an anti-supe homelander hater, lost blood, and is in the hospital. Homie has to come to terms with the fact that s/o is weak and could easily be hurt or worse, which results in homie being comforted by a bandaged reader while their like "I'm okay, im fine it didn't even hurt that bad!!" But homie is like "YOU ALMOST DIED YOUR NOT FINE."

Reader gets physically hurt, Homelander most affected. 😢

I have actually gotten an ask like this a while back, and I do love this idea! Coming to terms with the fact that his partner is human and can get hurt so easily would be very difficult. He'd be such a wreck knowing he couldn't just solve this problem with his powers or height. He can't intimidate a bullet wound into healing itself. He would have to watch helplessly while the reader's life is in the hands of other people, he'd be utterly powerless. I don't think that's a concept Homie experiences very often. He'd be fighting back tears the entire time, trying to hold onto his one strand of composure, and the hope that he wouldn't lose them. And of course despite the reader's pain, the moment they wake up they'll have to comfort the big sad baby by their bedside. Homelander's head would be snuggled up beside them 24/7 because he can't stand the idea of leaving them alone ever again.

And I promise I will write a full-fledged fic of this concept eventually, I am just a slow-ass writer so it might take me a bit. I cannot conjure words as fast as I can doodle. 😭

[rekino2114]

can I ask sdra2 with reader that got cheated/ or almost died by their ex

Sdra2 girls with a reader that was abused by their ex

A/n:I kinda decided to go with a mix of the two ideas you gave me

Sora

(Credit to @omori-kunster for this amazing sora banner my weird brain got bothered that she doesn't have an introduction like everyone else so I decided to use this, please let me know if you're ok with me using it)

Sora probably picked up on some habits of yours that suggested you had a troubled past with relationship, and wanting you to trust her completely asked you about it.

She was flabbergasted when you told her that your ex abused you, why would they do that to such a kind and sweet person?

If she meets your ex she will just glare at incredibly hard while mentally spouting out all of the possible insults she can think of.

"Don't worry y/n, I won't treat you like that. I love only you, and nothing will make me stop"

Kokoro mitsume

She already knew about it very early in your relationship, but she didn't want to confront you about it because she wanted you to be the one to bring it up whenever you felt ready.

She's probably one of the best people you could tell. She's a psychologist, so she probably knows how to handle similar situations. She'll make sure to show you her love more directly after that conversation to show you that she's not like your ex.

She asks you to ignore your ex if you ever meet them again. They don't deserve your time, plus engaging in conversations with them might trigger you.

"I'm very proud of you for telling me this y/n. You are very brave to open up, and I'm glad you trust me enough to do so"

Emma magorobi

Even with her acting skills, she couldn't hide how heartbroken, surprised, and pissed off she was at hearing your story, she just couldn't believe someone could do this to you.

She decided to share a bit of her traumatic past with you too, if you trusted her that much, then she should do the same.

This is one of the few times she thinks about using her influence for something like this. She'll accuse your ex of everything you told her they did on social media, hoping to get them arrested.

"I am so sorry for what happened, my love, but on the bright side, now we know we can trust each other even more"

Setsuka chiebukuro

She probably noticed when you flinched while she was hugging you, she loves being physically affectionate but she wants you to be comfortably with it first, she will sit you down and try to ask you what was wrong.

She was just so shocked that something like that happened to you, she knows people like that exist but she didn't expect you to be a victim of that. She will remind you of her love daily and will make sure to show you that she is much much better than your ex.

She might try to find out who your ex is if you don't feel like telling her, if to just satisfy her curiosity. But if you ever meet them again she will turn your head the other direction while hugging you and shooting them a death glare.

"Don't worry now. Big sis has got you, no one will hurt you again while she's with you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. Don't forget that, ok baby?"

Hibiki otonokoji

Hibiki doesn't have much experience with love so she probably didn't notice anything particularly weird about your behavior, she just thought you were shy and didn't like physical affection and it was fine with her.

When you told her that you were actually abused by your ex, she just started crying and hugging you. She blames herself for not noticing earlier, but from now on, she makes sure everyone treats you nicely, even by yelling at them if they do anything to trigger you.

She could not contain her rage if she saw your ex around. She would just scream and yell at them until she had no voice left in her, and thanks to her vocal training that's a lot of time. (She considered beating them up too but then realized she's too weak)

"I'm so sorry for not noticing earlier y/n but don't worry I will make sure no one treats you like that again you only deserve the best"

Kanade otonokoji

Your ex is so dead. As soon as she learned you had an ex, she was already planning to kill them just to make sure they didn't bother your relationship, but when she learned they actually abused you,her plans got way way more brutal.

Of course she will make sure you feel loved and protected, she'll make everything she can to make you trust her, she'd never hurt you after all, but with the people who harm you it's another story.

You'll never see your ex again because conveniently, shortly after telling kanade about them, they disappeared mysteriously, while it was a surprise it definitely wasn't an unwelcome one.

"Darling, don't worry about your ex anymore, ok? I promise they'll never hurt you again as will no one else I'll make sure of that my love"

Iroha nijiue

Iroha isn't the smartest so she'll probably mistake some of your gestures as shyness or simply inexperience like hibiki.

She cried too when she heard your experiences, she blamed herself even If she didn't do anything, you ended up being the one to comfort her but she makes sure to show you her love too especially by hugging you a lot.

She's way too shy and scared to do anything if she ever meets your ex so she will just ask you to go to another place.

"I-i'm sorry for what you've been through y/n *sniffle* I really am. B-but if it makes you feel better I love you and will never treat you like that"

Yoruko kabuya

Yoruko is pretty observant, so even if not immediately, she noticed the signs but didn't wanna be too forward so she waited for you to be ready to tell her, dropping hints that she was fine with whatever happened in your past along the way.

While she expected it to be something like this, she was still surprised at the sheer amount of abuse you went trough, she will try to comfort you the best she can and will try to be a little less tsundere and show you her love more directly.

She really doesn't want you to meet your ex again to keep you safe so if she ever sees them she will guide you away and start berating them with insults and threats.

"I feel really sorry for you y/n but at least you have me now, you're safe with me...and loved"

[crownmemes]

Spy Sentences, Vol. 21

(Sentences from various sources for spies and/or secretive muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"We do this by the book, which means you stay out of the action, got it?"

"You saved me!"

"The people I work with are loyal to the end. Can you say the same?"

"I'm sure you can understand why I don't want to go through the other channels."

"You don't know me, but I know you."

"It's been two years and I don't even know who you are!"

"You don't even know what you don't know."

"I'm not letting anyone else get hurt on my behalf, okay?"

"Why do I get the feeling that you're not telling me everything?"

"I don't want to have to explain to people who you are."

"You've not been doing this very long, have you?"

"I'm sure you have an abundance of questions, but I doubt I'll answer any of them."

"I've seen some pretty disturbing things in my time working with you and I think I've handled them pretty well, but this? I don't think I can do this."

"You won't fire that gun. You're not the sort."

"Everyone wants to save the world. They just disagree on how."

"It's not realistic to think that I wouldn't do what I came here to do."

"You're obviously not doing this out of the goodness of your heart, so what is it that you want?"

"Why don't I tell you a story?"

"We can trust no one."

"I'm so sorry that I can't offer you a less dangerous solution."

"Why do I feel like every time we get close to getting some answers, somebody changes the question?"

"Blackmail? Go on, then. With everything you've done, you'll be going down with me."

"In this game, the skill one must have above all else is patience."

"Let's do this quickly. The less blood, the better."

"Our game ends here. I've made sure of that;"

"Haven't you seen enough blood for one night?"

"Look around. Do you see all these people going about their lives, no idea what's happening around them or what they're in the middle of?"

"Make yourself comfortable. Nobody knows you're here but me."

"You have a lot of questions. I understand, but you must understand that I can't give you all the answers."

"You must never hesitate."

"What if they find you first? What then?"

"I heard you were looking for me?"

"Do you have any regret for the things you've done?"

"Will I ever see you again?"

"For what it's worth, it was not my decision to keep this from you."

"You are in grave danger."

"Could I rely on you never to betray a country? Perhaps not. Could I rely on you never to betray me? Yes, I believe I could."

"Don't confuse a winning move with a winning game."

"The reason I chose you is because you've got good instincts."

"This isn't a training exercise, is it?"

"I hear that you're as cold as the snow, and that you don't have any weak nerves or fear."