#I went to bed and had a nightmare so bad I thought my heart was going to explode when I woke up

[agentark]

Late Night Lulls | The Fernweh Saga | MC x The Waiter | ~500 words | part 2/6

Summary: nightmare comfort feat. everyone's favorite totally normal diner employee

[ao3] | [James]

When she jolts awake, her eyes immediately focus on the steaming mug waiting for her on the nightstand. She already knows what it is: coffee, decaf (it is 2:30 am after all) with a splash of cream, and enough sugar that it doesn’t really matter if it’s decaf or not. It’s perfect. She watches the steam dance lazily in the low light of the bedroom for a few moments more, before dragging herself fully upright and resting her head on top of her knees.

This latest nightmare was particularly exhausting. She was running. Running until her lungs burned and her legs gave out. Running towards the voices of her friends, never making it to them in time. Running, running, running. She ran and ran until she collapsed, darkness closing in. As she closed her eyes to accept another loss, a hand slipped into her own. He always comes to her before the end.

She knows he’s near now, too, though the apartment is eerily silent. Knows that there’s something more to his preternatural ability to blend into the background than simply being a paragon of customer service. Knows that there’s more to the...particularly vivid approximation of him that her psyche will drum up after her worst nightmares. Knows that he seems to sense when something has trapped her into another round of its twisted game. Maybe she should be afraid of him. Her instincts scream that she should be afraid of him.

She can’t bring herself to run from him, too.

.

.

.

“’m sorry I disturbed you,” the muffled apology barely reaches his ears.

She can’t see the way his mouth presses into a thin line at that. Apologizing to him? That won’t do. “I was already awake,” he responds, peeling away from his spot in the shadowy hallway and silently gliding across the well worn carpet to reach her. He deposits himself at her side and sweeps her hair over one shoulder. Gently, he begins dabbing at her clammy skin with a damp towel. “Bad dream?”

She scoffs. “I’ve had worse.”

Then, with a mumble, “You were there.”

“Was I?” a noncommittal hum, but his hand stutters almost imperceptibly as it sweeps down her back. He’s been reckless lately, against his better judgement. For his own sake as much as hers, he ought to be more discreet. There is danger in attention. “Even bad dreams have their highlights, I see.”

She reaches for his hand and squeezes once. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t reply. Simply coaxes her backwards into his arms and holds her close. They have a few hours yet before she’ll sneak back to her own bed like a rebellious teenager.

No one else gets to see her this way. Tangled in his sheets, in his home, spending nights in his arms. Does her ragtag group even suspect where she is? (He can’t imagine the little nervous one would approve.)

He knows that she knows….something. She knows that he knows that she knows. They’ll continue to dance around it until it blows up in their faces. But, for now, they’ll just exist together like this.

[indulgentdaydream]

BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE

what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???

THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT

And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear

Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.

Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t

M.I.A

Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758

Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.

Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.

It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.

He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.

All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.

Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.

He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.

Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.

He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.

His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.

You aren’t in bed.

He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.

The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.

Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.

Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.

He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.

You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.

“Want a glass, too?”

Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.

He just wants you back in bed with him.

He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.

You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"

He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.

Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.

Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.

You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.

He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.

Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."

Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.

You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.

Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.

Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.

[vaaaaaiolet]

Anxiety left you sleepless all night. Leon figures his favorite dream of you might help.

mdni CIAO CHILDREN!! f / m smut w established relationship. put bluntly, leon fucks the worry out of you 😭 he talks you through sex by retelling a dream, tiny bit of character study, PRAISE!! TONS of fingering, 0.5 sec of cockwarming, light angst, p in v w/ a happy ending iykwim, aftercare and i love you's awww. also strawberries 🍓

a / n: req fic from my event!! i took the premise from isle of strawberries by edwin raphael and you can find a playlist for this fic here. motivational smut is a first for me LMFAO but i hope this works w your vision, anon <3 also PEE AFTER SEX YOU GUYS

word count: 2.5k // read on ao3

The 5 AM sun shines rays through the cracks in your plan. You thought you’d been convincing enough with your face pancake-flat against the pillow and your left arm thrown out of the blanket just so. You’d even made sure you had a foot poking into Leon’s side the way he always grumps about, but somehow, your boyfriend always seems to see right through you.

Just like now. 

A busybody poke on your shoulder. “Sweetheart,” follows a drowsy whisper, “what’re you doing?”

Sleeping since last night, thank you very much.

“No use playing possum. You haven’t moved an inch since we went to bed and you, ma’am, can’t sleep still to save your life. C’mere,” and you’re tugged to Leon’s side of the bed, the top of your head peppered with slow, sleepy kisses as he hugs an arm around your middle. “Did you sleep at all tonight?”

You clutch his forearm like a safety bar on a rollercoaster. “A little.”

“Enough?”

“Um…” 

Leon kisses his teeth. He’s usually the one on the receiving end of these questions, but he’s picked up a couple things from you. “Too hot? Too cold? Anything I can get you?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just can’t fall asleep.”

A quiet sigh from you, a hum of understanding from him.

“Because you’ve been thinking again.” He asks if you want to talk about it.

“It’s just a bad night,” you mumble, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “Overwhelmed. Been getting into my head about everything I should be doing but don’t. I feel like I’m letting everyone down all the time.” 

In the champagne pink of the early morning light pouring through the bedroom window, your eyes trace the corded muscle of Leon’s arm around you – a testament to the strength it takes to do his job every day. There’s scars here, burn marks there, a plum-hued bruise.

Your words stumble to a halt. Embarrassed color rises to your cheeks. 

The matter is that scars from his missions to the ends of the earth litter the chest cradling your back right now. Leon must be sore and aching, listening to you whine like a child with too much food on your plate. What could be keeping you up at night when he shoulders your worst nightmares for a living? All while you lay cuddled and coddled? You don’t know the first thing about worry, the paralysis in his bones that must pale to yours.

Guilt creeps up your spine, and Leon frowns at your sudden silence. You’re retreating into a shell he’s called home too many times. He won’t have any of that with you. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he soothes, smoothing back your hair. “I’m still here. You don’t wanna talk right now?” 

You let go of his arm and burrow into your pillow, mumble about how you like sleeping late on weekends anyway.

A scoff sounds behind you. “Sleep late, my ass.” 

Leon’s arm comes circling back over your ribs in an instant. He squeezes you so tight to his chest that you feel his heart thump behind your back, and you can’t help the unexpected laugh that bubbles up your throat when he lets go. It’s his favorite reflex of yours.

“If you won’t talk, I will.” Leon presses a kiss to your cheek. “Gonna distract you for a bit, sweetheart. Humor me?”

“Hm?”

“I wanna tell you about my favorite dream. You’re in it.”

You can’t pretend that doesn’t catch your attention like lightning to a rod. Leon doesn’t dream much, not besides the nightmares that have him scrambling to throw off the covers in the middle of the night. 1998 hangs thick in the air of your bedroom some days, but for him to have a dream where you don’t die for a change? That’s new. 

So is his hand starting to creep under your sleep shirt, playful circles tracing on the soft skin below your navel. Part of his distraction strategy. A successful one, if the skip in your heart rate has anything to do with it.

“This okay?” he rasps.

More than. 

You reach behind, cradling his cheek to kiss him a proper hello; allow yourself an anticipatory inhale when Leon’s hand dives under the waistband of your shorts. It takes exactly three seconds for his middle finger to pinpoint the pearl of your clit, and he circles it twice, maddeningly slow, before sliding right under to trace along the seam of your entrance. 

Leon keeps the pressure light. He needs your head clear so you listen. 

“It always starts the same.” He shifts his hips so yours widen for him. “I’m standing in the middle of a huge field, a strawberry farm. There’s nothing around for miles, just rows of bushes full of berries and storm clouds in the distance. I find an empty basket in my hand.”

You imagine your mountain of a boyfriend holding a basket like Strawberry Shortcake. Adorable. “You dream about picking strawberries?” you giggle, arching your back to fit more comfortably against him, and your consideration earns you a searing dip of his finger into your pooling arousal. 

“That,” Leon chuckles, “and a nagging, sinking feeling that I should be doing something but I can’t.”

Oh. 

“Mhm. It hits me that I have to pick as many strawberries as I can before the storm rolls in, and I can’t even move, sweetheart.”

You swallow the returning lump in your throat. Push down a sigh that was building at the upward roll of his fingertip inside you. Leon tuts at your effort, coaxing the sound out anyway with a press of the spongy spot he knows is tucked at the back of your walls. You crumple at the delicious nudge; it leaves you open to welcome another finger into your warmth.

“But this is a good dream because,” Leon smiles at your next gasp, “then I see you at the edge of the field standing next to a little house, waving at me.” 

He scissors you open like he’s got all the time in the world. You clutch the corner of your pillow when you hear it through the comforter: the soft, rhythmic squelch of his fingers curling into your cunt.

Pretending he can’t hear your whimpered little curses as he coos in your ear, “There you go, listen to that,” Leon continues. “That’s when I start thinking. There’s no way I can save all these strawberries in time. You’re standing there, smiling at me without a clue there’s a storm brewing, and suddenly all I can think about is getting you into the house before you get hurt.”

His lesson becomes one of endurance the more he talks. The fingers pumping into your pussy melt your brain into mush that’s chanting, more, more! Exactly the root of your problem.

“So then I- oh, poor baby. This isn’t enough?” 

Shit. You forgot you talk in your sleep. And apparently when you get fingered too. 

“Guess I can’t blame you. I get distracted in the dream too, fuck.” There’s a pause, a sputtering stop to the lovely fullness when Leon pulls his fingers out and promptly sucks them off. 

Even a worm will turn; you certainly do. You whine Leon’s name when he makes a show of it, gazing at you with half-moon eyes and a boyish grin pulling at his lips. “What, it’s my fault you taste better than the strawberries did?” 

No, for leaving you hanging. You were paying attention — maybe a bit too much.

“It was you, by the way,” Leon chuckles, lifting the comforter so his knees can bracket your thighs. 

“I distracted you in the dream?” you gasp, sliding your hands up his shirt.

“In the best way, angel. You helped me get moving again.”

The peachy light of dawn caramelizes gold as Leon climbs on top of you. It doesn’t warm the bedroom quite yet; Leon makes sure the comforter is tucked over your bare skin after he finishes kicking off his pajama pants. He’s back to murmuring sweet nothings, gently tugging your shirt over your shoulders so he can kiss down the swell of your breasts. You’re so toasty under the covers that the goosebumps now speckling your chest are entirely his fault. 

“I remember you picking a few berries off a bush,” Leon looks fondly up at you under golden lashes, pressing a gentle kiss over your heart, “and you just looked so content eating them. I was fretting over saving the whole field and you were fine with a handful.”

You’re itching to ask: but the storm’s still coming, isn’t it? Thunder, rain, your aching cunt dripping onto the sheets right under him. 

Leon is all too happy to answer. 

One hand cradles the back of your head so he can drop his mouth onto yours, leaving the other free to slip under the blankets, rub consolation over the hood of your clit, and finally, finally, notch the swollen head of his cock at your entrance. You cry out, clutching at Leon’s hair when he sheaths himself in a buttery-smooth stroke – as if it could be any other way with how you’ve melted like chocolate in his hands. You both gasp at the stretch.

Leon’s jaw works as he kisses you, savoring you. Spit bridges your mouths in between split-second gulps of air. Your heart thumps against your ribcage like you’re hanging off a precipice, no difference in the dizzying drop that waits ahead. His length sits adjusting inside the squeeze of your plush walls. 

Leon’s sentences come out chopped and desperate as he alternates sucking berry-toned love bites between your breasts, and he admits, “I don’t save the all the strawberries.”

You wheeze as if you’ve dashed across the field yourself. “No?”

“Just enough to last us the storm. Fuck the rest, figure it’ll grow back. Only need to focus on what matters – getting enough for you – so I pick a couple,” the thick of his cock is suffocating when it’s this still, “run,” Leon pants at the first snap of his hips against yours, outrunning the storm all over again, “and pull you inside the house before lightning strikes.”

Electric pleasure curls up from the base of your spine, spreads to your head and flickers down to your toes as Leon starts pounding into your pussy. No room in your chest for anxiety to linger when your eyes are rolling skyward. The edges of your vision melt into vignette as your lover sinks into you again and again. 

Tunnel vision. 

“Keep those pretty eyes open. Focus on what matters,” he repeats in a frenzied whisper, and the tunnel closes in.

All you see are Leon’s eyes. Smack dab in the middle of his blown out pupils is your reflection.

That’s it.

Coherency goes flying out the window with all your brainpower used up to connect the dots. “Leon, you-!”

“Tell me what you see, sweetheart,” he breathes sharply. “I know you can.”

You beg for mercy at each dig of his blunt cockhead. “Me, I get it, fuck! Please- just let me come!”

Course he can, he just has to drill something else into you first. 

“Need to hear you say it,” Leon grits. Nips at the base of your neck as your nails claw stinging holds on his shoulders. “Shit, I’ll make you see stars, don’t worry, I just need to – oh, you’re so fucking tight! – get it in your head. You can’t shut down on me.”

You thrash under him, make more space for bruising kisses to bloom up your neck. “But you’ve had it worse,” you sob out, overwhelmed. 

“How else do you think I know?”

He’s not letting you head off into your own storm alone. Not when you’ve saved him from his.

“Tell me you’ll let me in next time you get in your head, and I’ll make you come. I’ll make you come so fucking good, baby,” Leon hisses, stealing one last kiss from your panting lips. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

“I will.”

And you ought to thank your lucky stars your levees don’t hold. 

It starts with spiraling cracks. Leon reaching down to press his thumb over your swollen clit. One shaky thrust away from dislodging the last brick holding you together. A blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flutter of your cunt, choked breaths torn from his throat when the silken clutch of your walls sends him into that final crescendo. 

Leon’s fraying at the edges, obsessive in how rolls his thumb at the bundle of nerves that make you shriek his name, and you, hand in hand with him, finally let the swelling tsunami in the pit of your stomach topple your walls. 

Turns out he’s right. Stars explode across the night sky when your eyes squeeze shut. 

You can’t pay attention to much except the rolling tide of pleasure. Leon’s soon spilling into you, his brow pinched as he blindly works his spend into your cunt under the covers. His forehead glistens with sweat, hell, your baby hairs are a dripping mess, but strangely, you think you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing this warmth again. 

Your heart’s never felt more weightless. 

Glowing seconds sail by. Leon’s shaking arms eventually give way and he collapses onto your chest. You let out an “oof!” at the drop. 

“And then the dream ends,” you hear him sigh, eyelids fluttering shut.

About time, you think, smiling as you brush a thumb over his cheekbone. “Then you wake up?”

“No.” Leon cracks open a sapphire eye and grins. “Sometimes we do this.”

In the little hou- Oh. “Fuck you,” you laugh.

“It’s my favorite for a lot of reasons!” 

He sits up, keeping his touch featherlight when he pulls himself out from between your candied thighs. Tiny aftershocks jerk your thighs once, twice, and Leon takes the time to whisper soft apologies when he reaches for a tissue on the bedside table. 

“I meant it back there, y’know?” he hums, gently wiping off the mess between your legs. “I hate seeing you so hard on yourself.”

“It just feels like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Especially when you’ve been through worse,” you mumble, picking at the covers.  

The tissue gets tossed into the trash, and Leon shoots you a small smile. “Worse to you, maybe. To me, the worst thing I’ve seen is watching you lose your spark and not being able to help.”

“You really think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I love you.”

So you remember your promise. 

You tell him you love him too, no more secrets to keep in your head. The bedroom blooms warmer than you remember it ever being, a little slice of summer straight out of both your dreams.

You remember the strawberries from the farmer’s market in the kitchen, and that Leon makes killer Sunday pancakes.

You remember how much you love afternoon catnaps with your limbs tangled between his. Infinite possibilities pile high like the papers on your work desk. So much to get started.

Focus on what matters. The rest will grow back.

You turn the other cheek, and kiss your lover on the mouth.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[odoraful]

𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑲𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑳𝒀 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑰𝑵

life has been a little less empty for zayne with you in it

⟡ content: zayne x gn!reader; established relationship; a little bittersweet, but still with fluff 🫂; appearance of zayne's parents; bits of zayne's childhood; 1.5k words

⟡ a/n: title is from a quote by the wonderful brennan lee mulligan from the D20 season a court of fey and flowers <3 i was feeling very soft about zayne’s life and this was written as a result :’) i hope this is an enjoyable read !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Emptiness was something Zayne had grown accustomed to. It was in the streets that he walked on at night following a late surgery shift. It was in the study rooms he frequented as a university student–often the last person to leave once all his peers had gone. It was even in the classrooms of his childhood–remaining there to read and draw whilst everyone else played outside during breaks. Emptiness gave him periods of focus, which was important considering the career path he eventually pursued. Though, he had not always welcomed emptiness as a companion in his life.

The first time that Zayne was left home alone was when his parents went on an emergency trip out of town for work. Being only a child, he wringed his small hands as his parents hurried to pack equipment he did not yet understand. Before they left, they repeated instructions to the young boy about what he should do for the night. Warm up dinner, finish his homework, brush his teeth, go to bed early. They did not repeat these because they believed Zayne would be disobedient, but because they knew how frightening aloneness could be for a child. Having set guidelines for what to do would hopefully help him to feel capable of being by himself.  

“Remember, we’re only a phone call away, sweetie,” his mother reassured, smoothing his hair back with her fingers.

His father lowered himself on one knee to kiss his son on the forehead, tousling his hair and the careful combing his wife had just done.

“We’ll be back by tomorrow,” his father also reassured.

As the door clicked shut, Zayne watched from the window, pushing the curtain aside. After seeing and hearing the whirring engine pull away, he let the curtain fall. He stood at the entrance for a moment.

All became still, and he was greeted by emptiness for the first time.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He was shocked to feel his heartbeat drumming in his chest and hear every small breath he took. His own internal systems were exposed in silence.

He shuffled further into the house, the once familiar space now feeling too big and labyrinthian. Even his thoughts seemed to echo off the walls as he recalled what his parents had told him to do. Yes, he had tasks he needed to complete. Going through his to-do list would surely rid of the uneasiness bubbling inside him.

Zayne checked things off one-by-one. He tried to focus intensely on what needed to be done to forget about the fact that he was alone.

At last, Zayne retreated to his bedroom. His penultimate task was reading one chapter from the library book he borrowed. However, the words were distant to him as the crawling feeling of isolation left goosebumps on his skin.

Patches of unlit space in his room turned into sinister voids waiting to suck him in. The rustle of wind against windows became Wanderers raking their claws against glass.

He closed his book and snuggled deeper and deeper into the blankets, tucking his head inside and squeezing his eyes shut. He prayed he would have no nightmares tonight. If he did have one, he would wake up to nothing but a hollow room and his heart rattling in his ribcage. Torn between needing rest and not wanting bad dreams, exhaustion eventually took hold.

Zayne awoke not to terrors of the emptiness, but to the comforting touch of his mother. Through his own bleary vision, he saw his mother’s tired but gentle eyes. He sat up groggily. 

“You were so very brave, my dear,” his mother praised.  

“W-where’s Dad?” Zayne asked, sleep lifting with each blink of his eyes.

“He’s making breakfast for us.”

Something flickered in his mum’s gaze after her reply. She opened her mouth, hesitating to speak again.

“Zayne.” She took his hands in hers, brushing a finger over his knuckles. “Me and your father… we need to help as many people as we can, so that means this might happen a lot more as you get older.”

She examined her son’s expression. Zayne nodded.

“We love you very much, and we want you to do exactly as you did last night if this happens again, okay?”

Zayne nodded again, understanding then that he and the emptiness would have to get along from now on.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

At the end of another shift at Akso Hospital, Zayne drove out of the parking lot into the deserted streets of Linkon past midnight. Classical music quietly played in the background as he headed home, unlit buildings passing by in the rear-view mirror.

At the red light, he was the only one waiting. Perhaps this hour of the night meant that phantom cars would be most active, bustling about to do their ghostly activities. That sounded like something you would say to comfort him. Zayne could hear your voice in his head, could see you wiggling your fingers in a poor attempt at mimicking spookiness. The corner of his mouth twitched at his own imagination.

But, you weren’t in the passenger seat beside him this time. He stared out the front windshield, emptiness before him.

Parking the car outside his home, he approached the front door. Hovering his fingerprint over the handle, the sensor gave a small buzz of confirmation before unlocking.

Zayne listed off what he needed to do in his head as he turned the handle and entered. Since he already showered at the hospital, he just needed to change into his sleep clothes, have something to eat, and complete his observations of the day in his journal. Tomorrow (or technically today, though the late hour made it difficult to believe this was a new day) marked the beginning of the weekend when he could spend time with you. If he completed his to-do list diligently, then he could rest quickly and see you sooner.

He slipped his shoes off and undid the laces before putting them beside his other pairs. Zayne expected he would be greeted by an empty, unlit interior. The emptiness was no longer was an unwelcome, unsettling sight like he thought it to be as a child. There was a calmness to it that he had grown to appreciate. But, if he dug deep enough inside himself, there was still a feeling of loneliness he could not quite shake.

That was why he frowned when he saw the lights had been turned on in the living room. He definitely recalled turning them off before he left.

Zayne walked further inside, keeping his guard somewhat up for the possibility of an unwanted intruder.

Rather than a burglar, he was surprised, and much more relieved, to see you instead. Curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your body.

He almost didn’t want to interrupt you. You were so cozy and peaceful, bathed in the warm glow of the lights above. At the sound of Zayne’s footsteps, your tired eyes opened, and your head raised towards the noise.

“Zaynie,” you drawled.

Your voice was crackly with sleep, but your smile was as adoring as ever. Combined with the nickname you used for him, affection tugged at his heart.

He hung his bag up and loosened his tie, joining you on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked softly, brushing loose strands of hair away from your face. “I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Mmm…” you leaned into his touch. “I thought I’d get a head start and see you earlier.”

 “Earlier being at two o’clock in the morning. You didn’t have to come all this way and wait for me.”

Hearing his point, your lips turned down into a pout.

“Firstly, all this way was only about a 20-minute drive from my place to yours,” you clarified, “and secondly, I wanted to wait for you.”

He breathed a laugh, something between incredulity and fondness. It wasn’t like you didn’t have work today either. Even after your own gruelling shift today fighting Wanderers after a flare-up in a no-hunt zone, you still had the energy to come see him after he finished. Zayne was about to give you a half-serious scolding about staying up late when you leaned closer to him. The words stopped short in his throat as your lips met his cheek.

His face, cold from just being in the night air, blossomed with warmth. Likely due to your tiredness, your reaction time was slower than usual as your kiss lingered for a second or two longer.

“Welcome home, Zayne,” you whispered by his ear as you pulled away.

Home.

His home.

A place that was no longer empty now that you were here. A once solitary existence now filled with your presence.

He wished that he could somehow speak to his younger self. He would say that he would one day be reunited with someone who would wait for him even in the dead of night. That person, with all their endearing stubbornness, would be the one to protect against Wanderers that might be stalking in the emptiness (for they were a renowned Hunter after all), and leave the lights on to dispel any deathly voids.

His mouth parted, breathing becoming unsteady as he whispered back,

“It’s good to be home, my love.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[sttoru]

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .

⟣ sypnosis. a nightmare of your lover’s disappearance wakes you from your sleep.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, comfort, fluff. takes place after gojo’s unsealed but before dec 24th, bits of spoilers jjk leaks 236 at the end. mentions of death, blood.

⟣ note. based on it’s happening again by agnes obel. coping rn dhmu . . . not proofread bcs i cant read through my tears anyways hope u enjoy im gonna cry myself to sleep now

everyone has to die at one point — not even the strongest of all could avoid that tragical fate. not even the strongest sorcerer you call your lover.

no, not even him. the universe couldn’t spare him. you thought that maybe, it would. maybe fate wouldn’t apply to him. oh, how wrong you were.

blood splatter—a stream of red liquid. right at your feet. right in front of your eyes. a man in half. and not just any regular man;

“satoru !”

your dark surroundings become blurry with tears, your body jolts out of its current dreaming state. you could feel your heart in your chest—in your throat. your brain shut itself off for a few seconds as your eyes try to make out shapes and figures in the room you’re in. your bedroom.

you only then realises that it was all just a gruesome nightmare. a hyperrealistic one at that; one that will haunt you for years.

“hmmh.. ‘m right here, baby.” a groggy voice next to you replies to your yell in agony. the yell that was the shape of your lover’s name leaving your lips—

you instantly turn your head to the right and there he was; the man whom just met death in your dreams. gojo satoru, all alive and well. in your bed, in your presence, in your life.

satoru’s hand aimlessly pats the space next to him in search of your body whilst he rubbed his eyes with the other, trying to adjust his sight to the dark so he could find you. you seemed to be in complete distress. which he does not like.

“it’s okay, shh, shh,” your lover hums, hand finally finding your arm. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you on top of him—your head laying on his chest.

his body was warm. his heartbeat was there. loud and clear in your right ear.

“satoru. . .” a river of tears flows down your cheeks like a dam that has been broken into. your body trembles, lungs feeling like they couldn’t get any air in them from how hard you were sobbing. the pain of losing your loved one; it all came flowing back to you.

satoru frowns, “hey, hey. look at me — sweetheart, c’mon.”

he instantly sits up and pulls you along with him. his hands find your cheeks, tilting your head up. this time it was his turn to feel his heart break in pieces. you looked absolutely distraught. as if you just went through a traumatic experience of some kind. he hated it.

“shit,” satoru mutters under his breath before pulling you into his embrace again, arms circling your waist with his head buried in the crook of your neck, “it’s okay, i’m here now. you’re safe.”

it wasn’t the first time you had nightmares when he was with you. you had them regularly after satoru had gotten sealed in the prison realm for nineteen days—nineteen days of dread for you. of an empty bed, an empty house and an empty life.

when satoru had finally been released from the prison realm it was like a dream come true. a happy dream, that is. not those repetitive, bad ones you have every now and then. you still get those nightmares of your lover being either taken away from you by force or by death itself. your brain couldn’t give you a break — even after his return.

“take a deep breath in,” satoru instructs and sets an example by doing the breathing exercise with you, “hold it for three seconds . . . breathe out for six. mhmm, good—jus’ like that.”

you repeat it a couple more times, sobbing and shaking throughout the entirety of the exercise, but eventually manage to calm down a little. satoru sighs in relief at this;

“you okay, baby?”

you nod weakly and sniff, wanting nothing more than to be held by the man you thought had vanished from your life forever. you had that scare once, when he was sealed, and you never want to go back to those dark times. ever.

“it’s— i, just—“ you hiccup once, unable to complete entire sentences, “i thought you w-were gone. i thought you had died.”

it was silent after that (except for the sound your silent sobs and sniffles). satoru had guessed by now that you saw him die in your dream — that much was pretty obvious. but, the thought that you were this distressed because of it makes him. . . happy in a way.

happy that someone would mourn over him at least.

“well,” satoru pensively replies, hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, “everyone has to meet their end one day, you know?”

that sentence was one that was meant to lighten up the grim mood somehow. one of his many lighthearted remarks that were supposed distract you from your tears. it would work during other moments like these — were you’d be too baffled by the things satoru says to care about what you were crying for — yet today it only worsens your misery.

“shut up.” you weakly punch his chest to which the white haired male chuckles softly, his slender fingers instantly interlocking with yours. satoru’s thumb brushes against your wrist before pulling it up to his lips, placing ticklish kisses among your skin.

another silence hangs in the air.

“seriously though. . . if i were to somehow die, i’d want you to live and move on, yeah?” your lover whispers in such a quiet tone that it was almost inaudible. satoru had looked death right in the eye before — he didn’t care back then if it were actually his end.

he does now. he has the world to lose — his world — his everything. you.

satoru wants to live a happy life with you. he doesn’t want to die now that he has you. the love of his life which he wants to grow old with. maybe have kids with. start an own family away from the busy streets, away from the swarming curses in the city and away from all that sorcerer stuff. it was a nice dream.

“shut it!” you huff and satoru takes another weak punch to the chest. his gaze lands upon your tear struck face and he instantly drops the serious ‘act’.

the sorcerer laughs, his usual boyish laugh that makes you feel better, and he flips you both over so that he has you pinned underneath him. satoru grins before kissing your tummy all over, making you giggle from the ticklish feeling;

“i’m playin’, baby! i’m not going anywhereeee!” he promises through wet pecks against your skin, the smile on his evident even if you couldn’t see it — you could hear it in his voice.

satoru leaves your tummy and moves on to your neck and face. he was smothering you in affection in hopes you’d cheer up some way. he just wants you to forget about anything bad happening to him. you didn’t deserve to think about all that stuff — you deserve to be happy and full of joy.

even without him one day.

“i’d never leave my princess all alone.” satoru shakes his head and pouts dramatically, “who else is gonna spoil you? or kiss and cuddle you to bed, huh?”

you finally show an ounce of joy. a tiny smile. that was all satoru had needed to see. he wasn’t going to stop there, however. his goal was to turn that small smile into a full blown fit of laughter.

“i’m one of a kind, baby. you’re never gonna meet a man like me.” he continues with a proud grin, putting all of his body weight on top of you which causes you to groan and grumble a lighthearted complain.

satoru knows you like it whenever he clings to you and thus he uses that piece of knowledge to help you feel better. his head was buried into your shoulder, limbs enveloping your body like a koala.

“whatever.” you roll your eyes and snuggle up to your lover, closing your eyes as the tiredness hits your body after all that crying.

“whatever !” satoru mocks you in a high-pitched tone, followed by a pair of giggles from the two of you. a third and final punch to the chest finally shuts him up for the rest of the night.

the sorcerer made sure you had fallen asleep first before he whispered the next words in your ear, hoping they’d calm your mind and body so that no nightmares would ever bother you again;

“don’t you worry, sweets. i’m not leaving you. ever.”

. . .

those were the same exact words satoru wished he could utter to you one last time before the current date — 24th of december.

[chaoticbasicallyuselessbisexual]

Your Miracle brought you to me, but it is my Faith that'll make you stay

based on this post by @colorlessjay

fair warning guys: I haven't written anything in quite a while, English is not my first language and it's close to midnight where I live. so... you have been warned.

also not beta read and honestly, I will not take any responsibility for any grammatical mistakes

this will be in more parts, this being the first. I'll try to finish the others as quickly as possible

anyway, have fun

part 2

part 3

☆*: .｡. :*☆*: .｡.:*☆*: .｡. :*☆*: .｡.:*☆*: .｡. :*☆*: .｡.:*☆*: .｡.:*☆*: .｡.:*☆

Castiel was lonely. His father said it was because he was special, his brother Luci claimed it was because he was weird. Castiel preferred the word autistic.

He had trouble making friends and even more so keeping them. Social cues were a living nightmare, he could not make sense of them and he was at least 85% sure they were created as a form of torture.

None of this really mattered in the great scheme of things, because he was still painfully lonely. He's already contemplated getting a pet once or twice, but he always managed to talk himself out of it and disregarded the thought completely. It wasn't until his other brother, Gabriel, came to his little home (and for its size it felt awfully big - thank you once again loneliness) to smack him on the head and tell him to go get a dog.

('Or I swear to God, I'm gonna force you to go make human friends, Cas.')

So there he was, walking through his local pound, looking at different dogs, trying to decide which one to take home with him. He didn't need to look for long, because the moment he walked by this beautiful malamute, the dog started wagging its tail as if it were possessed and immediately started trying to get to him.

This scared Cas for a good second. But when the dog got its big head stuck between the bars of its cage, trying to get head pats, and looked at him as if he was the only one who could solve this problem and get it safe and unstuck again, he folded like a sheet of cheap paper.

So Faith (because as much as Gabriel laughed when he heard this, she did bring Castiel something that he was desperately missing from his life) was coming home with him.

The moment she set her soft little paw through his front door, the small house became her palace. She made bed on the couch and on his bed and on a pile of clothes he forgot to wash earlier. She left dog hair everywhere (it was in his food not even five minutes after they got home) and she begged for his food as if he didn't feed her before sitting down himself (he did). She was pure chaos and a fucking sunshine radiating happiness anywhere she went and Cas was smitten already.

His days now went like this:

Castiel got up (at an ungodly hour) and took Faith for a morning walk to watch the sunrise. Then they came home, and Faith ate her breakfast with Castiel following soon after. After breakfast Castiel got dressed for work contemplating how bad and/or difficult it'd be if he quit his job to be with his dog all day every day, inevitably ending up hating himself when he had to leave her alone at home to go to work (because Faith needed to eat and deserved good quality food, please don't look at me like that, my heart will actually break). After work, he'd rush back home, being just as happy as Faith was upon seeing each other again. Faith would get her food, and then they went out to the (tiny) backyard to play. Whenever it was cold outside, they'd stay in for the day and cuddle, Cas scratching her tummy and behind her ears, and oh dear lord, how is she so soft. He soon learned how to brush her fur so it wouldn't hurt her, what food she liked best, and where that special place that made her melt for scratches was (under her chin).

It was almost weird how quickly they fell into a comfortable routine of cuddles, walks and more cuddles. And Castiel was, maybe for the first time, excited and truly happy about something.

That was until one day, one just awful grim day, there was the loudest car Castiel has ever heard in his life parked in front of his little house.

Faith could just go crazy, barking, howling, scratching and jumping on the door - all because of the damned loud car.

Soon enough, there was a loud, quick, almost desperate knock on his front door. Looking through the peephole, Castiel saw who was so eager to get into his house. On his porch was standing a man, taller than himself, if Castiel could guess, rough looking, with his worn out shirt and a leather jacket that has seen better days, big boots and a light stubble. He was pacing around on Castiel's porch, clearly distressed. If Castiel wasn't so angry with him for annoying his Faith to the point of her going crazy, he'd maybe even think the guy was attractive. Unluckily for the mystery guy, and luckily for Castiel, he was pretty mad with the guy, and so he decided to give him a piece of his mind.

The moment Castiel opened the front door, he was fucked. Not (only) because the guy turned to him and looked at him with those beautiful moss green eyes that could turn Castiel's world on its axis, but mostly because Faith ran right through him to get to the mystery hot guy.

She really went for it, no thought, no hesitation, and so Castiel was sent falling on his ass, seeing as she barreled through right between his legs.

The moment Castiel was able to shake of the shock of the fall, he saw the hot mystery guy, also sitting on the floor with Faith between his legs, sobbing, while she was licking at his face, looking excited as ever when he hugged her close to himself.

"Excuse me, but what the fuck are you doing with my dog?"

And for the second time, their eyes met, and Castiel swore he would not let Faith go without a fight.

[gothamhappiness]

The nightmare (Jason Todd x GN!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, angst, kinda comfort but not really, mentions of blood, violence, Joker, dark!Jason at the end

You woke up sweating and your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to explode inside your chest. You sat up before frantically looking for your boyfriend Jason in the bed. You needed several instants to collect yourself and remember that he was patroling away tonight.

You couldn't stay in bed, not after the nightmare you just had. You needed to busy yourself until Jason came back. You went into the kitchen and started to prepare some tea. Hopefully, it could calm down your nerves. You wanted to call Jay, but you were worried you would distract him during a mission.

The tea didn't help. Your eyes were focused on the time passing by. You were getting very distraught now. What if something had happened to Jason?

Just like in your nightmare.

At the instant you heard the window getting opened, you rushed to it. Red Hood barely had the time to get inside; you were already hugging him before checking him for any injuries. If your warm welcome made Jay smile at first, it was until he noticed how anxious you were. He removed his helmet, let it fall on the ground before gently cupping your face into both of his hands.

"Hey babe. Is everything alright?" he whispered to you

"I'm just... so happy to see you're all good" you replied, starting to cry.

Jason panicked. He wasn't standing to see you in such a bad state of mind. He quickly sat you down on the couch, then knelt down in front of you, trying to comfort you with gentle words and touch. You managed to calm down after a little while.

"I'm so sorry, this is so silly. I just had this nightmare and I worried about you and..." you babbled

"What nightmare, love?" Jay asked

You didn't reply. You weren't too sure you wanted to talk about it to Jason. He took your hands in his and stroked them.

"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower and..."

"Let me take care of you" you asked

Jason simply nodded, he couldn't deny you anything.

You helped him undress and then washed him with great care and tenderness. It was allowing you to stop thinking about the nightmare. Jay enjoyed your quiet love for him. You were the only person who ever cared for him like that. He was so grateful you were part of his life. He didn't know how he could live without you.

He also looked after you in a comfortable silence even though your boyfriend hated to see you so tense. For the moment, he allowed you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

But at the instant you both settled in bed, he gently guided you on his lap. You instinctively snuggled against him.

"So, what's going on?" he whispered

"I'm not positive that I want to tell you about it..." You admitted

"Why not?" He stroked your cheek

"It was about... him." You said

"Him?" Jason asked even if he guessed your answer

"The Joker." You replied

"Alright, what happened with him?" He asked, his jaw clenched

"He... kidnapped the two of us. You were tied up on a chair, and his goons took me on top of a pool full of acid. Joker told me I had the choice. Or I could watch him club you to death, or I could jump in the acid." You explained.

Jason's face was unreadable, but deep down, he was losing his mind.

"And what did you say, love?"

"I jumped of course, and I woke up" you murmured.

Jason instantly grabbed your face and brought you even closer to him.

"My love, I need you to make a promise to me then. Even if I'll do anything to keep you safe, if one day something like that happens, never choose me over yourself. Promise me you'll do everything to stay alive." he was deadly serious

"But Jay..."

"No but. I don't matter."

"How can you say something like that! This is not true! I love you" You cried out

"Let's me rephrase that. If I die, nothing bad will truly happen out of it. You'll get upset, but it'll pass. On the other hand, I can assure you that no one in Gotham would want to deal with the aftermath of your death."

"What... what do you mean?" You frowned

"That if anything happened to you, I'll burn this whole city to the ground and there would be no survivor. Not even Batman." Jason darkly promised

"Jay..." You were speechless

"You are my world, my everything, and if I lose you, everyone goes down with me. So now promise me you'll always pick yourself over me and anyone else, baby." He continued

"I... I promise you." You replied as you realised it was the only answer you could give him.

[hxlxnaaa]

hi hiiiii I’m not too sure if you’re taking requests for Caleb yet!! If you are could we please get a fluffy fic of him and us just cuddling and him being absolutely head over heels!! (If you don’t thank you for your consideration anyway 💜)

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 ─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─ 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

★ 𝐚/𝐧: ty for the request anon, i have desperately been wanting to write for caleb but have had 0 inspo for him LOL. sorry this is so short and not a full length fic, plus it took so long :,( uni is kicking my BUTT rn. nonetheless i hope (and pray) you enjoy!! <3333

You were back in his arms, and there wasn’t anything more in the world Caleb could ever think to ask for.

It wasn’t the first time you had situated yourself there, nestled against his chest and weaved into his heart. Growing up, you two found yourselves entangled in each other's limbs more often than not. A nightmare, a bad day - one another’s arms were a safe haven from the cruel, destructive world that lurked outside, offering a sanctuary no words could ever quite replicate.

Though you were older now, and as much as Caleb would hate to admit it, so much more grown. Of course, you were still the girl he always knew, yet over the course of time, you had developed the mental strength of a thousand soldiers; built a determination and power more vigorous than he had ever seen. The softness of childhood had been replaced with resilience, sharpened by experience. Your body was just as strong, no doubt from tearing through countless wanderers like butter. Firm against his, no longer small and delicate.

You weren’t the little girl that would cry in his arms during thunderstorms anymore, afraid of the dark, crawling into his blankets with him for comfort. When did you grow so much? Had he simply failed to notice, or had he been too afraid to acknowledge the inevitable? As much as Caleb tried to convince himself otherwise, he knew the truth; you didn’t need him to protect you anymore. But in this moment, with your weight pressed against him, he could pretend. Just for a little while longer, he could hold on to the illusion that you were still safe in his arms, that he was still needed in your life.

There was always something there between you two, Caleb would be stupid to deny it. Or maybe he’d made it all up in his head - unspoken words, stolen glances, moments that lasted just a little longer than necessary. The way you’d turn to one another after every joke, the shared secret language of sighs and stares, fingers interlacing after high-fives as if they were meant to fit together.

He’d scare off the boys at school who tried to pursue you, never leaving your side so they’d know exactly who you belonged to. He noticed how you’d cling to his arm wherever you went, pressing soft kisses against his cheek, wearing his clothes like a second skin. In a crowded room, you always found each other, always sat a little closer than necessary, always gravitated toward one another like celestial bodies caught in each other’s orbit. There was never a need to say it outright, everyone knew. The two of you left a mark, staking an unspoken claim on one another.

‘Mine.’

But you were younger then, just kids who swore you were really good friends. It made sense, you had grown up together; shared dinners at night, shared a bed, shared your lives. It wasn’t surprising that you had such a hold on each other, that you were so effortlessly intertwined. The thought of spending the rest of your lives together was not unheard of, but spending it together? That was different.

That was something neither of you dared to say aloud, something that hovered between you like a breath waiting to be exhaled. The idea seemed forbidden, it seemed wrong.

Though, despite the taboo of it all, Caleb still loved you. He loved you before he even knew what love was, before he even knew your name. He loved you through every version of yourself, through all the times you’d forget him. But it didn’t matter, because no matter what, he knew your soul as intricately as he knew his own.

The movie playing in the background had just become noise in his ears, the plot lost entirely to the rhythm of your breathing, the way your fingers idly toyed with the chain around his neck.

“Are you even watching?” Your voice was quiet, fingertips brushing against the cool metal, eyes peering up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah.” His response was soft, unsure. Because how could he focus on anything else when you were here, pressed against him, looking at him like that?

For a fleeting second, it didn’t matter what was right or wrong, what was forbidden or accepted. He wondered what your lips would feel like against his, if they would be just as soft as they were against his cheek, just as gentle as they were against his forehead. He thought about your hands threading through his hair, about how they left burning traces on his skin, branding him with every touch; and you were. He was absolutely, irrevocably yours.

Caleb wanted to lean down and kiss every inch of your face, to pull you in so close that there would be no space left between you, no room for doubt, no fear of separation. He wanted to cross the line that you both had danced on for so many years.

No, he’d leave that to you.

Let you call the shots, make the final decision, decide where the boundaries would lie. Because Caleb would, in the end, be whatever you wanted him to be. Whether that was your best friend, your lover, something entirely else, or just Caleb. Because he loved you, and he was yours; and he understood, without words, without hesitation, that you were his too.

[satorus-princess]

Hi!! I love your cuddly and sleepy gojo fics! I wondered if I can request one where he gets a bad nightmare or something and we comfort him in the middle of the night. Thank you! It’s up to you to write on this or not <3

a/n: my first request hehe thank you so much, i’m glad you enjoyed them!! i hope you like this 🥺🥰 (he’s prob ooc but it’s okay)

word count: 1k

something slithers into the peaceful darkness of the bedroom as gojo sleeps on his stomach, lips slightly parted as soft breaths and murmurs exit his mouth, locks draping over his visage, and his arm curled around you.

it’s not often that he manages to sink into a deep, calm slumber to recharge his energy. there’s always a disturbance preventing him from getting some sleep - the higher-ups hounding him, a special-grade curse, anything manages to happen.

and this night is no different. when his soft murmurs turn into distressed grunts and he begins to toss his head, his hair swaying with his movement to reveal his brows knitted together. he flips onto his back, still asleep, muttering your name over and over with his tone drenched in fear and concern.

then, a gasp tumbles out from the confines of his throat as he abruptly awakens. he immediately sits up, pale chest heaving with fast breaths as he feels the trickle of sweat all over his body. his worried eyes flit around the barely lit room, searching for something, for you. his gaze fell onto the empty space on the bed beside him and he realised that the arm he thought was protectively embracing you, was your pillow instead.

he exhales a shaky breath, his heart speeding up as if it were trying to win a marathon. he swings his legs over the side of the bed, calling your name as he rushes out of the bedroom, seeking any sign of your presence.

that’s when he hears the bathroom door open and close quietly, and his head snaps towards the same direction, finding your shadowed figure standing outside the bathroom.

“satoru?” you say, confusion evident in your voice. “what are you--”

your question gets cut off when your husband takes large strides towards you and tugs you against his chest, almost with a thud. “don’t scare me like that,” he whispers, tightening his hold on you and moving his hands over you as if having to convince himself that you’re really there.

feeling his body slightly tremble against yours and hearing the fear in his voice, you frown, yet automatically stroke his back soothingly. “what happened, my love?”

he doesn’t reply; he only shakes his head as he keeps you in his suffocating embrace, but you don’t mind, knowing that he seeks comfort right now. you assume he had a nightmare, considering that he was asleep only a few minutes ago before you went to the bathroom. and there’s only so many things that could get him so shaken up

“let’s go back to bed,” you suggest softly, your hand still trailing up and down his naked spine.

“... and don’t leave me.”

your heart squeezes painfully. “i’m not going anywhere, my love. not now, not ever.”

another shaky sigh leaves his lips as he takes in your words, slowly loosening his arms. you drift your hand down and off his back to intertwine your fingers with his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. he lets you lead him back to your shared bedroom silently, and you both get back into bed. you usher him to rest his head on your stomach and he slots himself between your legs, his chin poking the squish of your stomach as he stares up at you.

you notice his eyes memorising you, from chin to forehead and all in between, as if afraid you’ll slip from his hold again. after a few moments of letting him learn every feature and blemish, you reach out to brush his hair back from his forehead and frame his face in your hands. he immediately nuzzles into your warm touch, pressing his cheek against your palm.

“do you wanna tell me what happened?” you ask gently. “only if you want to.”

his vulnerable eyes are locked onto yours, revealing the consideration in them. then, he shakes his head once more, knowing that if he were to voice the images that his brain conjured up he’d become even more worried. “it was just a bad dream… but fuck, it makes me want to wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you in my line of sight constantly. i know you’re strong and capable, but it’s… terrifying.”

you brush your fingers through his hair before slipping your hand beneath his chest, feeling his racing heart beneath your touch. “i’d never let something take me away from you. at least, not until we’ve lived life together and have grown old together. and i know you trust me not to leave you, otherwise you wouldn’t be married to me.”

“i do trust you, with everything,” he says softly, and you feel his panicked heart begin to slow back down. “we’ll do everything that you want to, as long as it makes you happy.”

“and what about doing what makes you happy?”

“tomato, tomatoe, whatever makes you happy makes me happy.”

“there’s really nothing you really want to do?” you ask skeptically, yet knowing that he enjoys almost anything.

“my sweet, i get happy eating mochi. making you smile makes my day, hell, my whole week. what more could i want?” a genuine smile tugs at his lips, and once his heart slows to its normal rate, he laces his fingers with yours, bringing them up to his lips. “i just want to live life with you.”

seeing his smile brings about one of your own, and his eyes almost brighten enough to illuminate the moonlit room. his curled-up lips are still brushing kisses against your fingertips. “that’s all i want, too… now, should we get some more sleep?”

“i’d rather stare at you all night, but i guess we should,” he sighs dramatically, as if sleeping was a chore and looking at you was the greatest pleasure. “i’ll just have to wake up bright and early to stare at you more. maybe even add to my collection of you sleeping and drooling on me,” he teases.

“hey! i do not drool, it must be your own and you blame it on me.”

“pffft, as if i’d drool. maybe over my wife, but not when i’m sleeping unless i’m dreaming about you.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

“but you love me,” he grins. his fingers are still intertwined with yours, but they rest next to his head, which now lies entirely on your stomach.

“i do,” you smile back, echoing the words you once said to him when vowing your love and faithfulness to him.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Now that you are gone

please note that once again this is a very important topic this is the last part of this series. if you are not familiar with this series please check the warnings.

Dearest husband or should I say ex husband now that I am gone or will be gone by the time that you would have found this letter. I couldn’t do it anymore lando I saw the way you and charlotte were being burdened by my presence and just knew I had to leave.

You were never a bad husband just simply disappeared from our marriage.

Each day I crumbled infront of you and yet you stayed oblivious, it’s been over 3 months since we last shared a bed and I know you are disgusted by the thought of being with me now that I’ve let myself go, all I wanted was love but I guess it was too much to ask for.

Please don’t try and save me now that you’ve read this, I’ve been gone for far too long for you to simply try now. I know we promised forever to each-other but sometimes maybe it’s for the best that it ends early. Be there for charlotte don’t leave her alone you are the only thing she has left I doubt that she would even notice I’m gone.

I know you hated being told what to do but please make sure charlotte never finds out how I left it’s the only thing I will ask from you. I still love you I promise I just don’t love myself enough to say. The voices are getting too hard to block out.

Goodbye Lando Norris

When lando came home from the club he didn’t expect to be treated to the shrill cries of his daughter, he knew you’d be there to take care of her and had called out your name to make sure you were with her so that he could go lay down the amount of drinks he had plus the cries of his daughter made him want to throw up due to the intense headache.

little did he know everything was simply going to get worse for him.

After yelling your name for several minutes with no response he knew he had to deal with charlotte, muttering under his breath about how deaf you were being. He stomped up the hallway into little charlottes room and based of the little girls cries it seemed like she knew that she had just lost her mother. Nothing lando could do was able to console the destraught little girl. It took him an hour to get her down.

An hour which could have been used to save you.

Lando was blissfully unaware of the heartache that was going to be unleashed into his heart. He searched the house trying to find you and give you a piece of his mind.

When you were nowhere to be found he had the bright idea to check the cameras, and that lead him to his discovery. A rather shocking one that he wouldn’t even wish on his worst enemy.

In the middle of the bathroom deep within the bathtub laid his wife, his one anchor in life through everything the women he called everything laid there in tranquility. The water still and unmoving your body laid there lips blue and cold to the touch yet to lando you still looked like the prettiest women in the world. His mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening it wasn’t until it finally hit that you were not moving, this wasn’t some sick prank or a nightmare that he could wake up from this was his reality his wife was dead lying there cold and dead. The women he called his angel now was an actual angel. He had lost her he lost his love and he knew it was all his fault. He felt shame creeping up his neck knowing he was trying to find you to yell at you. His head shaked with the intensity of the situation.

It was the day after your funeral when lando had found the letter you had left for him and charlotte.

It broke lando to a different level, in his wife’s handwriting his sins were written, he and killed her he had killed you and each day he would pay for his sins.

You were always there, no matter where lando went there was a bit of you everywhere.

He couldn’t get rid of you, not that he wanted to either

The only words he could have muttered at your funeral were “it should have been me, I did it it shoukd have been me she wasn’t supposed to go so soon”.

16 years later

Little Charlotte Norris was not so little anymore, she was now a grown 17 year old girl with questions about her mothers sudden death.

Her entire life she had been shielded from the gruesome reality of how her mother died.

Her father whom she adored more than anything in the world hid the truth from her. Her mother didn’t simply die of a heart attack at 24 she died due to depression, and when Charlotte Norris unfortunately found out the bitter truth due to Lando’s negligence her world shattered.

Her father’s irresponsible behaviour killed her mother.

Landos midnight saddens had resulted in him forgetting to hide away the letters you had left for him and charlotte another careless mistake on his part which would result in him losing his daughter as well.

Charlotte was in tears when Lando returned and he just knew she had found out about everything he could simply feel it.

He tried to justify his actions and decisions blaming it on him being too young and not knowing what PPD was, unfortunately for him his little angel would hear none of it.

She had left lando just like you had.

Charlotte now went by your last name still blaming her father for the years of hurt you went through and how she had to grow up without a maternal figure, she didn’t know why but she always missed you and your soft face.

Your daughter had started up a foundation to help new mothers and fathers with postpartum depression and the anxiety new mothers face. This was the best tribute she would have ever come up with.

tagged -:

@yunnifer

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

The Man in the Mirror

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: When a bad nightmare leads to you finding Bucky in the bathroom with a pair of scissors in his hand, you offer to help him recognize himself in the mirror

Warnings: fluff and angst, Hurt/Comfort, haircuts, facial shaving, gratuitous use of pet names, Bucky’s trauma, HYDRA abuse/torture, mentions of blood, mentions of… forced haircuts I guess? I dunno if that’s a warning but there it is

A/N: I think we as a society need more “Bucky gets a haircut” fanfic in the world, so here’s my 2 cents

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

It was the scream that woke you up

You groggily reached your hand out to the other side of the bed, searching for Bucky’s warmth

 But it was  empty

You noticed the bathroom light was on, and had knocked on the door, calling out to him

When he didn’t respond, you had decided to let yourself in

“Baby, I’m gonna open the door, okay?” You called softly before opening the door.

You weren’t entirely sure what you expected to walk in on.

But a shattered bathroom mirror and your boyfriend leaned over the bathroom counter, his Vibranium hand gripping the marble, something clenched in his other was not one of them

“Oh my God, Bucky!” You quickly grabbed your slippers and slid them on, rushing to his side, “what happened?”

 You grabbed his right hand, removing what you now saw to be a pair of scissors as gently as possible

“Are you okay?” You began to search his body for injury, “Honey, what happened?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

His glassy eyes met yours, looking at you but not really seeing youYou took his face in both hands, leaning your forehead against his and gently stroking his cheekbones

“It’s alright, Baby,” you cooed, brushing his hair out of his eyes and tucking it behind his ear, “it’s okay, Bucky, you're safe, Sweet Boy…” 

His breathing slowly started to even out as you continued to hush him, slowly starting to come back to you.

 “Doll?” He asked in a quiet, broken voice that broke your heart.

 “I'm here, Honey,” you wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your shoulder, “I'm here, it's okay…” 

He’d sobbed into your neck as you held him, rocking him back and forth and rubbing his back

“It’s alright Sweetheart,” you’d cooed, pressing little kisses against his temple, “you’re alright, it’s okay…”

When he’d finally calmed down, Bucky told you about the nightmare that had sent him into this spiral, the vivid flashbacks of HYDRA’s torture

“It felt so fucking real, Doll.” Bucky’s voice shook. You hugged him a little closer, “they had these…taser things. Cattle prods, really. They– they would jam them into my sides for hours. And I swear I could feel it. When they decided they'd had their fun I felt them grab me by the hair and start dragging me, they used to do that a lot. I woke up before they could toss me into the Chair.”

“Oh… oh, Bucky,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair, “oh, baby…”

“I tried not to think about it,” he whimpered, “I just went to go splash some water on my face, but when I looked in the mirror all I could see was the Soldier and I couldn't take it.”

He motioned to the scissors, “I tried to take care of it myself, but I couldn't stop fucking shaking.”

You hugged him close, “oh, Baby. I’m sorry…”

 “I just… I can’t keep my hair like this,” he said, hiding his face your neck, “I can’t keep seeing the Soldier every time I look in the fucking mirror.”

 “I know, Baby, I know,” you told him, “how about this, help me clean up the glass, and then I’ll cut your hair after, okay?”

 “I think I want to shave too,” Bucky replied, “could you…?”

“Of course, Honey.” 

Cleaning up the glass was quick, so you sent him to get the kitchen ready while you grabbed the supplies

 You found him in the kitchen, seated in a chair and twiddling his thumbs You kissed his cheek and draped an old towel around his shoulders, setting down the things in your hands. 

“I thought I could start by putting it in a ponytail and cutting the length off,” you explained, “then maybe trim the top and then clean it up with the clippers. Does that sound good?”

 He nodded, and you began to comb your fingers through his long locks, gathering it up to put in a hair tie. He hummed at the feeling of your hands in his hair. 

“Did I ever tell you about my first few decades at HYDRA?” Bucky asked as you finished the ponytail, his eyes not meeting yours.

 You shook your head, confused.

 “They shaved my head for a long time. Sanitary reasons. I didn’t really get a lot of chances to shower. It’s easier to keep your hair clean if you don’t have any,” his blue eyes focused on the ground, “I guess it was for medical reasons too. They always had things stuck on my head in the early days.”

Bucky took a deep, shaky breath.

“I hated it. They would always cut it before tossing me in the Chair,” he continued, “it felt like I was being fucking scalped. They had to hold me down, I fought them every time. ”

You wrapped him in a tight hug, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve been letting my hair grow out because I couldn’t stand the idea of that again,” he murmured into your shirt, “bad memories and all.”

“I won’t hurt you,” you promised him, “I won’t ever hurt you. I promise Buck, you’re safe here.” 

“I know, Doll. I know,” Bucky took a deep breath,“we should get started. Before I lose my nerve.”

You nodded, straightening up and grabbing the scissors, “can I make the first cut?”

“Yeah,” he straightened up in the chair a bit, “Go ahead.”

He sucked in a breath as you carefully snipped off the chocolate colored ponytail, holding it out for him to see once it was off

“Good job, Sweetheart.” You smiled, “first cut’s done. Do you want to keep going?”

Bucky stared wide eyed at what you’d cut off, “I didn’t realize it had gotten this long… Uh, yeah. You can keep going.”

 You hummed and continued.

He was doing so good, keeping so still for you as you worked. 

“You’re doing so well, Honey. I’m so proud of you,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I’m gonna use the clippers now, is that alright?”

 Bucky nodded, closing his eyes and resting his head against your stomach

He flinched away hard when he heard the clippers buzz on, despite your warning about the noise.

 When HYDRA had shaved him they’d used manual clippers, raking them along his skull with little care. 

It felt foolish, but on some level he’d forgotten those weren’t the standard anymore. 

You switched the device off immediately and rubbed his shoulder, trying to give him what little comfort you could

“You okay?”You asked, “talk to me, Bucky-Baby.”

“The…the…” he stammered, shifting on the seat, unable to articulate what was in his head.

That the buzzing was loud in his ears, bringing him back to a hand dragging him towards a room he knew too well, to metal clamping down on either side of his face and screaming as his mind was torn away from him. 

“The buzzing,” he finally forced out, “The Chair…”

You nodded, understanding.

 “You’re not back there,” you whispered, stepping in front of him and holding his face with both hands, “you’re home with me. I won’t hurt you, I won’t let anyone hurt you, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, taking a deep breath. 

“I know, I know you won’t,” he assured you, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to calm down, “just… just do it. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m ready, I’m okay.”

You kept a hand on his shoulder, “okay Baby. Deep breath, okay?”

He obeyed, and you kept your free hand on him as you carefully cut away his soft hair.

“You’re doing so good, Sweet Boy,” you cooed as you gently trimmed his sideburns, Bucky tensing at how loud the buzzing was, “it’s alright, you’re alright…” 

You switched off the clippers once you’d finished, running your fingers through his shorn locks, loose bits of hair falling down his back and onto the tile.

 “There we go,” you stood in front of him, holding his face, “your hair is all done, Sweetheart. Do you still want to shave?” 

He nodded, and you grabbed his shaving cream.

You sat down on his lap and Bucky instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist

 You began to carefully rub the cream onto his face, planting a little peck to the tip of his nose, earning you a little smile.

 Once his face was sufficiently lathered, you grabbed his razor and smiled softly

“Ready?” You asked.

He nodded, and you began to carefully shave his face. 

Bucky was shocked by how gentle you were with him, moving his face as you needed with only the tips of your fingers and pressing little kisses to each patch of smooth skin that was revealed

Once you were done, you gently patted his face dry with a towel and applying his aftershave.

“Very handsome, Sweetheart.” You smiled, gently tilting his face from side to side, inspecting your work.

“You really think so?” Bucky asked with anxious eyes. 

“Of course I think so. Why don’t you take a look?”

The mirror is still broken so you held your phone up with the camera opening, allowing him to see himself.

You watched him examine his new look

 He chewed his lip, staring at the short hair, the clean-shaven face.

“What do you see, Buck?” You asked, his silence making you nervous.

“I… I see me…” his right hand reached up and touched his own cheek, “I see me…”

You smiled softly, cupping his face and lightly stroking his smooth skin, “you look so good, baby.” 

Bucky hugged you tightly to him, and you leaned your head against his collarbone.

“Thank you,” he murmured into your hair, “thank you so much.”

“Any time, Buck.” You stood up, taking his hand, “c’mon, Honey, why don’t we get you some rest?”

 “But what about the mess?”

“It’ll still be there in the morning.”

You guided him back to your bed and pulled him into your arms, his head on your chest.

 You ran your fingers through his hair, so much shorter but still just as soft.

Bucky smiled softly up at you, and you cupped his cheek 

“I’ll miss the beard a bit, I’ll be honest,” you murmured, stroking your thumb along his cheekbone.

“Thought you might,” Bucky chuckled, remembering how often you touched his scruffy cheeks, “maybe I’ll let some stubble grow in, give you something to run your hand over.”

“I’ll love you no matter what you do. You’ll always be the most handsome man in the room to me,” you kissed his lips softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered when you pulled back, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles, “for helping me look like me again.” 

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he settled back down in your arms.

“Of course, Bucky.”

A/N: this guy might get pulled and edited/rewritten at some point. I'm not sure how I feel about it quite yet, I feel like there's a lot unnecessary stuff in here. I dunno, we'll see what the reception is. I hope you enjoyed 💜💙

[nemesis-writer]

[Unwanted Ransom (Chapter 1)]

What was I made for?

TW: Mentions of Death, PTSD, ED, SH, Neglect

Masterlist

🎵Thumbs- Sabrina Carpenter🎵 🎵What was I made for?- Billie Ellish🎵

On my first day of staying here, I was excited to see if I had brothers.

Dick the oldest, supposed to be there for me, and pose as a role model right? WRONG, he instead leaves me on read when I text him. The fucker has enough guts to ignore me, and when he notices me, it's when I either get in trouble at school, or when his teamates talk to me. He had time to look after Bludhaven.

Tim, one of the family's detectives, doesn't find me interesting, and thinks of himself too big to talk to a lowlife like me. AND WE LIVE IN THE SAME FUCKING HOUSE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. With him, I have little to no memories. All he does is twiddle his thumbs, pretending I wasn't there.

Cass, Steph, Barb. I never really cared bout' them, all they do is talk shit about others, and play daddy's little girl. I was never daddy's little girl and I never complained. Not much to really talk about with them, I even learned ASL just for some light communication.

Jason, alright, I'mma be honest here. He was the closest thing I had to a brother, but he only came to the house at night for some food and rest. The best memory with him, was him taking me to school on the first day, I joined grade 5 class because I have an IQ of 190. Everything was great until he died, a part of me died with him.

Damian, the "golden apple" of this whole shit hole. This bitch thinks that he can do anything, because he is the bastard of Bruce Wayne, and Talia Al Ghul. He gets to train with Dick, while I watch them train to become a "hero". He bullied me even when I was a year older than him. Ughh, what a bitch. He was the reason I got the name Jinx, I was the bad luck of the family

Bruce, the man had the guts to adopt me and change my true name to a wayne. I was named Xerxes because it meant warrior, my dad never thought I was one. I'm not even allowed to call him dad.

Alfred, oh sweet innocent Alfred. I considered him as my father when my mother's "sperm donor", couldn't be there for me. He was there to teach me how to bake and cook, the best part was that he never admonished me for my bad behavior at school.

For 4 years I had lived with them, every night I had prayed for a miracle to happen. At night the same dream, every morning, the same nightmare. After the first 5 months of my stay, I started to avoid eating, because of depression.

And before I go to bed I looked for any blade I could, and locked myself in my bedrooom. I cut myself below the wrist, while keeping a first aid nearby. I never felt any pain from the wounds, but I felt the scar in my heart.

It's ironic how a whore with nothing, could love a child more, than a family that has everything. I always laughed at the idea, I never allowed myself to cry or show weakness. Bruce never knew how to deal with emotions anyway, so why cry?

I never cried, when Damian slashed my arm with a knife. Not when Barbara told me to go to hell, not when Tim destroyed the birthday present I made for him. And especially when Bruce called me a mistake. I only cried when Jason was murdered by the Joker.

I always thought crying was useless, so I worked hard. I got straight A's, I made friends, I enlisted for multiple sports when I turned 10. I even took up art just for the sake of fitting in.

But I will always be the Wayne pushed from the spotlight. Not even then, could I cry.

I just went to my dilapidated bedroom, God, it was ornamented with all of my awards and certificates. I started to pack my stuff, I even took the photo of me and my mother. There wasn't much to pack, all I got were hand me downs, and the dregs of my "beloved siblings."

At night, it was the perfect time to escape, with the villains on the loose, they had to take night shifts. So I slowly climbed out of my window and placed the note I had prepared for Alfred. And I prepared to go to the abyss that awaits me...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N Hiii... I got this idea from reading @acid-ixx, and @luludeluluramblings... I'm making a seperate part for the note Jennifer gave Alfred. HOPE U LUV THIS <333

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Season 1 Episode 1 :

of Katherine being thirsty. 🤤

His abs.

His chest heaving.

His vibranium arm.

His boxers and that blanket.

Lemme ride you, Sergeant. Or better.. suck the nightmare out of you.

🔥🌶️

Take Your Mind Off Of It » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Y/N helps Bucky take his mind off of the nightmare he just had.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, vibranium arm kink, praise kink, Bucky’s dog tags, cockwarming, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you for sharing your horny thoughts with me🥵 @katherineswritingsblog

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

A loud gasp left Bucky’s lips and he quickly sat up in bed, his hair messy, his eyes dilated, and breathing heavily with a thin layer of sweat covering his face. Bucky sat there, trying to gather his surroundings. The light from the TV lit up the bedroom. You heard his heavy breathing and sat up, facing him.

“Bucky, baby, breathe.” You say softly.

You grabbed his hand, placing it on your chest where your heart is so he can feel your heartbeat. Bucky took a few deep breaths before his breathing went back to normal.

“That bad?” You asked.

Bucky nodded his head yes.

“Do you want me to take your mind off of it?” You asked.

“Yes please. Anything.” Bucky says, almost sounding desperate.

Bucky watched as you threw the blanket off the two of you. You moved closer to him, kissing his lips softly and sweetly. One of your hands slid down the front of his body, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. Your hand went lower, finding its way to the waistband of his boxers. Your hand slid past the waistband and wrapped around his half hard cock. Your thumb gently rubbed across his hip, using his precum as a lubricant. It didn’t take long for his cock to get fully hard.

“Doll, please.” He begs, almost whining.

“Tell me what you want, baby boy.” You say seductively.

“I need you to- oh fuck! I need you to suck my cock.” He says, followed by a small whimper.

Bucky helped you by taking off his boxers. You lowered yourself on the bed, getting in between his spread legs. You leaned down, kitten licking the length of his cock. You moaned when his precum hit your tastebuds. You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked on it before putting his cock in your mouth. You placed your hands on his thighs, taking his cock further in your mouth and trying your best to accommodate his size as it got closer to your throat.

“F-Fuck…” Bucky moans, his head fell back against the headboard.

His tip hit the back of your throat causing you to gag a little, but you quickly relaxed your throat and took him almost easily down your throat. Bucky looked down, watching as you sucked his cock. His jaw dropped, moans leaving his lips. You looked up at him, making eye contact with him. One of your hands left his thigh and went to his balls, giving them a squeeze. Bucky’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and a loud moan left his lips.

“Fuck yes!” Bucky moans loudly.

Bucky pulled you off of his cock, pulling you onto his lap and gave you a much needed kiss. His tongue slid past your parted lips, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moaned into the kiss.

“I want you to ride me now.” He says.

You stripped yourself of your -Bucky’s shirt-and your panties. You lifted yourself up, lining his cock at your entrance. You slowly sunk down on him. A relieved moan left yours and his lips. His tip almost immediately touched your sweet spot. Your hands found their place on his chest. You rose yourself up until his tip was left inside of you and then you went back down. Bucky’s hands found their place on your hips, helping you ride his cock. A shiver went through your body when his vibranium hand touched your skin.

“You look so pretty like this.” Bucky praises breathlessly.

His praises urged you on. You rolled your hips against his. Bucky shamelessly stared at your breasts as they bounced every time you moved up and down on his cock. He leaned up, kissing along the swells of your breasts. His teeth bit down hard enough on your skin to mark you up. His vibranium hand left your hip to squeeze your nipple between his index finger and thumb, sending a tingling sensation through your body. You arched your back in pleasure. You practically shoved your breasts in Bucky’s face which he loved.

“Oh fuck, Bucky!” You moaned loudly, tilting your head back.

Bucky pinched your nipple one more time before his vibranium hand went down to your clit and began rubbing in fast circles, wanting to help you build up your orgasm quickly. Your pussy squeezed around his cock.

“Oh Bucky!” You moaned. “You always know how to make me feel so fucking good!” You praised.

Bucky’s right hand left your hip and went to your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze before slamming you down on his cock. A loud moan left your lips when his cock hit your sweet spot. Your eyes fluttered shut and you dug your nails in his skin, leaving red scratch marks his chest.

“I love you so much, babydoll.” Bucky kisses you hungrily. “So fucking much.” He says again.

“I love you too, baby.” You say against his lips.

Both yours and Bucky’s orgasms built up at the same time. Bucky’s orgasm came faster than yours.

“I’m so fucking close.” Bucky pants, leaning his forehead against your shoulder.

“Cum for me, baby.” You moaned.

Your name left Bucky’s lips loudly as he came inside of you, painting your walls. You weren’t too far behind him. Bucky sensed it and rubbed his vibranium fingers faster against your clit.

“Bucky!” You moaned, not being able to say a full sentence.

“Give it to me, doll.” Bucky whispers, kissing just below your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came with a loud moan of his name leaving your lips. Your movements came to a stop. You cupped his stubbly cheeks and gave him a sweet and much needed kiss. You two pulled away from each other’s lips, staring deep in each other’s eyes for a moment before Bucky maneuvering the two of you to lay down on your sides. Bucky didn’t even bother pulling his cock out of you. He always loves to warm his cock with your pussy.

“How do you feel, baby?” You asked, playing with his dog tags.

“Much better.” Bucky kisses you. “Thank you, doll.” He says against your lips.

“Anytime, baby boy.” You say, smiling against his lips.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[star-girl69]

The Last Time

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

—-

synopsis: the last night you spend with clarisse before she goes on a quest

a/n: had to put my own take on the clarisse leaving reader behind to go on a quest SORRY Y’ALLLLL this is like devastating fr tho i’m kinda sorry like 😭

The Last Time - Taylor Swift (Feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol)

warnings: angst, like so much angst i’m gonna say it 5 times, angst angst angst angst angst, angst, hurt comfort and also hurt NO comfort bc i’m evil, kissing, cutesy until it’s not but it never really is, i felt like choosing pain, y’all should start calling me she-devil this is just so mean and evil, swearing, fighting, allusions to death, daddy issues lol, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

June 4, 12:08 PM

It’s a cold summer night. You sneak out of your bed, sheets slipping off of your shaking body, the same memories playing in your mind. It always comes down to this, the nights.

In the dreams, she doesn’t come back to you, and the nights without her are so cold, so lonely, so horrible you can stand it. They’re only in your mind, but they hurt just as bad. It’s not every night you slip into each others beds, but whenever you have a nightmare, you find your way to hers. Whenever she has a nightmare, she finds her way to yours.

You both have nightmares about the same things.

The usual cryptic prophesies, the various monsters you just can’t seem to kill, and losing each other. Demigods die. They die easily. You both know that.

Some people swear off love.

And Clarisse told you she wishes she could, she wishes she could pretend you aren’t her entire heart, but she never had a choice. You are her Achilles heel, her one weakness.

You couldn’t either. You took one look at the beautiful daughter of Ares and never looked back again.

Still, there’s a certain desperation in every demigod relationship. Touches are just a bit tighter, hugs a bit longer. Because you all have lost so much, and you all feel absence heavily. Every time could be the last time.

Your footsteps creek against the porch of the Ares cabin. You open the door only a crack, slipping in silently the way you always do, avoiding the creaky floorboards.

Clarisse is awake in her bed, the corner of the cabin. She’s staring at the moon fiddling with her fingers. You frown, but Clarisse turns to you.

You’re sure you look as wrecked as you feel.

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. “C’mere, what happened?”

You always ask each other, but you both know.

You crawl towards her, sitting in between her legs, arms around her neck, head pressed to her chest. She holds you up so you don’t have to. You can’t, not right now.

She kisses your forehead and her hand smooths down your hair.

“You went on a quest,” you whisper. You miss the way she stiffens. “You didn’t come back.”

She doesn’t tell you she’s not going on a quest. She doesn’t tell you she’s going to come back.

“I’m here,” she says. “Do you feel my heart? I’m here, and I feel yours. It’s beating so fast, baby, you have to take a deep breath.”

Tears well in your eyes. You dig your nails into her soldiers.

“Oh, Gods, please don’t leave me,” you cry.

She doesn’t tell you she won’t.

“I’m here, I’m here right now. I’m here right now, listen to my heart, baby, listen to my heart.”

Clarisse swallows back the bile in her throat. She tries not to lie to you, she tries. But sometimes, on cold summer nights when you find your way into her bed, and she doubts you’ll remember this in the morning-

“I’ll always be here, Y/N. I’ll always be here.”

—-

June 11, 5:46 PM

If you thought the nights without Clarisse were bad, then the days are even worse. You miss her. You never realized how much she was there, silently, always watching, not until you told her to stay away from you.

You sit at the dinner table, the sun setting. Most of your siblings have left- but you’re here with May, sitting there as she watches you like a hawk and interrogates you.

“You haven’t been the same. Not since, like, last week. And something happened with Clarisse, it’s obvious. I gave you a few days because I thought you were just having a fight, but you’re not.” She sighs and grabs your hands. “What happened?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” you dismiss. She stares at you with such heartbreak in her eyes.

May is the sibling you’re by far the closest with- you like similar things, and people sometimes think you’re actual full-blooded siblings because you look so alike. She was the first person you ever met at Camp Half Blood, and after Clarisse, she’s the first person you run too. But now that Clarisse is leaving, and she’s already gone, May is all you have left.

You squeeze her hands. Your best friend, you want to tell her, but saying the words aloud makes them real.

She’ll find out tomorrow.

—-

June 8, 10:57 AM

She tells you privately, she smiles softly and leads you into the woods, she holds your hands and touches your face and kisses you like she’s not about to break your heart.

“Why are you bringing me out here?”

You know her like your own mind. You spend so much time with Clarisse, next to her, it’s like you have a window to her heart tattooed on your arm. You know, even when she doesn’t want you to.

“I just have something to tell you. And I wanted privacy.”

She doesn’t tell you it’s not a bad thing.

Your stomach sinks and you hold her hand tighter, and even though she’s about to break your heart she kisses your cheek and squeezes your hand.

“Just you and me, pretty girl. I just wanna talk, okay?”

She leads you to a clearing with a beautiful view of the strawberry fields and you smile, sitting down and letting your face feel the sun. You can feel her looking at you, but the beauty of this place and each other only blinds the two of you temporarily.

“Okay, what do you have to tell me?”

There’s stones in your stomach. Your heart is squeezing, you can physically feel the tension and anticipation in your organs.

You look in her eyes and you pray to every God that it’s nothing.

“I love you, you know that?”

Clarisse never says I love you, and your stomach twists more.

“Of course I know.”

She lays down on her back and opens her arms. She sighs when you lay your arm over her stomach, head on your chest. Her hands grip onto you tight.

She doesn’t speak for another minute, like she’s just soaking you and the sunshine up, like it’s the last she’s ever gonna get.

“Chiron… a week ago, I think, he called me to the Big House.” You hum, staring at the treetops. “Him and Mr. D… they… uh.”

“You can tell me,” you pretend you aren’t scared.

“A quest,” she blurts. “They have a quest for me.”

“Oh,” you mumble, stupidly.

A quest could mean a million different things. It could be an errand for Chiron and Mr. D, or it could be something preordained by the Fates.

She could have a choice or she could not.

“It’s three children of Ares. It’s about some sort of ancient blood feud between my father and- it doesn’t matter. But it- it doesn’t look good-”

You sit up. She follows you, eyes wide, hands splaying around where your body used to be on hers.

“‘It doesn’t look good’? Clarisse, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She grabs your hands. “It’s dangerous, like any quest-”

“It’s not like any quest though, is it?”

She presses her lips together. “No. No, it’s not.”

“You didn’t accept it, did you?”

She stares into your eyes.

She looks so pretty today, her hair half-up half-down. Her eyes always shine so brightly in the sun- they reflect it. Sunny days with her make your heart squeeze, because it always looks like she’s got suns for eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I am-”

You tear your hands away from her.

“Why- why would you- Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, why would you do this?”

You cry, and she reaches for you, her face twisting into something painful. But how can she expect you to run to her when she’s the one hurting you?

“Just- just not right now. Not until the 13th, let’s just have this together, okay?”

“How, Clar, how?”

She grabs your hands and doesn’t let you pull away.

“My father asked for me, he asked for me. I have to go. I can’t refuse my father, Y/N-”

You rip your hands away. “He doesn’t care about you, Clarisse. But I do. I care about you.”

She rubs her temples with one hand, the other still reaching for you, eyes screwed shut.

“Please don’t be like this. Don’t be selfish, I have to this. He asked for me, Y/N. This is such a huge step-”

“A huge step to him loving you? He’ll never love you. Our parents will never love us, because they’re incapable of caring about us. But you have me, Clarisse. You have me, and I love you so much-”

“You don’t know that,” she whispers. “You don’t know they can’t love us.”

“And neither do you.”

She reaches out to touch the tears falling down your face.

“Clarisse, please,” you cry. “I’m here. I’m always here, and just- just don’t put your father over me, please don’t, not anymore-”

She grabs your face. “I’m not going to choose between you and him.”

You’re full on sobbing now, and Clarisse never cries, but just the look on her face at seeing you cry makes you cry more.

“But I’m here, Clar, I’m here, I’ve always been here, please-”

She shushes you and tries to hug you, but you can’t, not when your mind is spinning to fast, not when you want nothing more than to be in her arms because you know if she just holds you then you’ll shut up and forget. But you can’t, you can’t, not this time.

Not when all the pieces are sinking together.

The only time you see her is when you sneak into each others beds, dates in the woods, secret looks across the courtyard, pulling each other into the bathrooms or sheds or something to make out.

You needed her so bad you didn’t realize that you were never first. You didn’t care, but at least she was still there.

“Did you even think about me when you said yes?”

She tries to hug you again. You stand on shaky legs.

“Y/N,” she whispers, half-broken, half-disbelief. “Don’t do this.”

“I just need a day,” you say, but you both know what this means.

She laughs, runs her hand through her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Fuck, I know it’s not perfect, we’ve never been perfect, but I need you right now. Don’t walk away. Don’t be like that.”

“And if I asked you not to walk away? If I asked you not to be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything!” she yells. “You’re the one who’s being a selfish brat.”

You cross your arms and look at her. You want the ground to swallow you whole. You want to jump into her arms and never leave.

“Don’t, okay. Just don’t. Stay, and we’ll talk, I’ll try, you know I’m not good at this but I want to try, we have to try for us.”

“Clarisse, there’s no us anymore. You’re leaving.”

“Not until the 13th, Y/N. We could have something so good if we just… pretend.”

You could play pretend with her for hours. You could be married and you could live in a place where no monsters can touch you, where there’s no one to hide from. Where there’s no memory of her father, no axe hanging over you.

“I don’t want to pretend. I want you.”

But it’s Clarisse. It’s the girl you love, and you’re young so you believe you can fix this.

“Don’t go,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

You’re both glaring at each other, stupid teenage girls who fell in love too hard too fast, and now you’re scrambling at the world changes around you. You love her so much, but you finally realized that she doesn’t care about you, you’re her secret, and you haven’t had a backbone for so long but you will have one now.

“He asked for me. I already accepted. I need you right now, so stop being selfish and accept it.”

“How am I being selfish? How am I being selfish for not asking you to kill yourself? For asking you to put me first, for once?! You never put me first. I see that now. You never-”

She scoffs. “We both know that’s not true.”

“But I don’t, Clar. I don’t know that’s not true. So tell me, show me, make me believe it’s not true-”

She crosses the distance between you, even though it feels like a thousand miles, and plants her hands on your face. She kisses you, she kisses you like she loves you but not enough to stay.

But you kiss her back. You kiss her back, because she’s the love of your life. You’ll always come back like a kicked dog, like a ball on a chain. You’ll always come back to her like you go back to your bed each night- mindlessly, wordlessly, because it’s routine. Because you sleep in your bed and you need sleep to live, you need her to live.

She pulls back, breathing heavily against your lips.

“You are the only person who matters to me.”

Your grab her wrists and take her hands off your face. She tries to resist you, keep touching you, but it’s halfhearted because she’ll always end up doing the little things that you want.

“Only because the Gods aren’t people.”

“Y/N, stop.”

“Why do you go back to him? Why? Again and again, you go back even though he feels nothing for you- and you know it-”

She steps back, takes your hands off of her wrists.

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe, you see the hurt on her face. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t, it’s just, I love you-”

She blinks and stares at you like you just broke her favorite toy.

“I-I should go.”

You want her to say something, you want her to protest, you want her to kiss you again.

“Maybe you should,” she agrees. “Before we both say more things we’ll regret.”

Her face twists back into what she lets everyone else see, that hard mask of indifference, of cruelty and ruthlessness.

How can she hold you so tenderly and look at you like this? How can you pretend you’re still the girl she loves when the fog clears and you realize what you said?

“Yeah.”

You turn and leave the clearing, you can’t look at her hurt face anymore, tears streaming down your face. Clarisse stays there. You swear you hear the sound of muffled crying.

—-

June 12, 3:46 PM

Chiron announces the quest. It’s dangerous, that’s what he says, and he didn’t want to cause commotion in the camp by letting it come to light.

Are you horrible for wishing you had found out now? You would have had this untainted time with Clarisse. You would have loved her. You wouldn’t have had to pretend, because it would be real.

She’s selfish at every turn. She only tells you when it’s convenient for her to tell you, when she knows it’ll ruin it, ruin you, and lose this time together.

Her and her siblings stand next to Chiron.

She stares at you the entire time, and you don’t look at her once.

May hugs you when she hears, and you don’t speak, because how can you speak when everything is wrong? Everything is broken?

The mirror is broken, and what you thought you saw is no longer there. You only see your shattered self.

—-

June 13, 12:38 PM

You lasted maybe 20 minutes. You went to bed early, slept fitfully for a few hours, and woke up gasping about another nightmare- the same one you had the last time you slipped into Clarisse’s bed. You barely remember the nights you have nightmares, but you always know you go to her bed and she holds you, tells you it’s alright.

The dream, anxiously waiting for her to come back, spending your nights alone but warmed by anticipation and hope- and she just doesn’t. She doesn’t, and it all becomes dark and dull in the dreams and they turn into nightmares.

You cry and you scream and you curse the Gods for not bringing her back to you, but no one can hear you. You’re laying in your bed screaming and your siblings are gone, you know Clarisse is, and you feel so alone.

Feeling so alone it makes your bones shaking is terrifying. And you should be used to it. But you got used to Clarisse and her warm body. You got used to her touches, her words, the way she made you feel even just being in her bed- you could always sleep in her bed because she was there.

After she leaves, would anyone notice if you snuck into her bed? Would anyone notice if you laid your head on her pillow and pretended it was her chest? Would anyone notice if you slept in the shirts she left behind?

You last 20 minutes staring at the ceiling before you’re up.

You don’t care if Chiron will catch you. You don’t care if the entire camp will see you, you never did, but a private relationship was nice. It was yours and hers and no one else’s.

Private is different from secret.

Your feet sink into the soft grass, wrapping your arms around yourself, legs freezing in a cold breeze. You stop, looking at the Ares cabin.

The Ares cabin is just a house full of the best fighters at camp. Everyone looks at it and feels a little safer. You look at it and feel safer.

You’re filled with dread but you don’t care, because you know she’ll let you in, you know she’ll let you into her arms.

The door to the Ares cabin whips open.

Clarisse is there, feet turned left, toward you and your cabin behind you.

She stops and stares.

“Sorry,” you breathe. “It’s your last night, and I…”

“I know,” she says.

You step forward, all you want is to forget, all you want is one more peaceful night. As soon as you step up onto the porch Clarisse grabs you and pulls you in tight for a hug.

Her hands are spread wide across your shoulder blades, her body is pressed to yours, her head hooks over your neck.

“You’re so cold,” she whispers, because that’s all you can say when you don’t want to talk about the things that really matter. Of course she’s warm. She’s like your own personal heater, always warm and always comforting.

She lets go after a moment, hesitantly, but winds your fingers into hers. She leads you to your bed, you avoid the freaky floorboards better than her-

“I never have to be quiet in here,” she whispers. “It’s funny.”

You hum, she urges you onto her bed and climbs in behind you. You face the wall, breathing in heavily, shivering as she wraps herself around you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until she was holding you.

You didn’t realize how damaging this relationship was until you were so wrecked by it.

You didn’t realize how much you loved her until she was leaving.

You can feel her wanting to say something.

“Shut up,” you mumble, holding her hand.

She laughs.

“Okay, whatever you want.”

You remember this might be the last time you’ll ever hear her laugh.

This might be the last time she ever holds you.

“Don’t cry, please,” she begs, kissing the back of your head. “If I can’t talk you can’t cry, I hate when you cry.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, shoving your face into her pillow.

“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, flipping you around so you’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t think she’s ever apologized this much in her life.

“It hurts me too,” she continues, you press your face into her neck and feel yourself exhale against her warm skin. “If it didn’t have to be like this…”

“It doesn’t,” you mumble. “It doesn’t have to be like this, so don’t let it, Clarisse.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she whispers, her voice cracking just a bit. So quiet only you can hear it because you’re pressed up right against her.

You want to just climb into her, make a home for yourself in between her ribs where you could always feel her heartbeat and always know she’s there.

“Can’t I just come with you?” you cry.

She grabs you a little tighter, like she’s annoyed just by the thought of you being in danger. “No, Y/N. No, you’re going to stay here at camp, and you’ll be safe. I made my siblings promise to look after you, you’ll be okay without me-”

Her siblings are the only ones who know, but that’s only because every once in a while Clarisse won’t let you leave and you’ll oversleep and they’ll see you in her bed.

She swears them all to secrecy and as their cabin leader and their sister, a fellow child of Ares who’s doomed to want someone they can’t have, doomed to hide in the shadows- there’s so many campers who sneak into the Ares cabin at night, and you all ignore it.

There is a certain desperation with demigods and love. Every time could be the last time.

You wish you could swear off love, you wish you could, but Clarisse has you so wrecked you can’t breathe without thinking about her. You run on her, like she’s coffee or sunshine, she’s the IV stuck into your arm, and you don’t want to imagine living without her.

You think of a future without her and it’s just blank.

She holds you tighter and let’s you cry, louder and louder, muffled into her neck. She says she’s sorry but she doesn’t mean it, she can’t, and you don’t care. You can’t care, not right now, not when this is the last time.

“But I’m here right now, okay? I’m here right now, so just listen to my heart.” You grab onto her, trying to keep her here with you- but she won’t. She’ll go. She’ll leave you, and there’s nothing you can do.

You realize with such a startling finality that this is the last time. How deeply you feel it in your heart, not a pain but just an ache, an emptiness- it’s almost beautiful how it washes over you like a wave, like your heart stops and you’re just left a shell.

You breathe in wildly, but you can’t catch your breath, not when she’s half-here, you’re stuck in this hazy reality. Fading in and out. Her heartbeat. Her breath. Her touch. Her voice.

“I’m here right now,” she says. “I’m here right now,” and it’s the last time.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

—-

DID WE HAVE FUN OR DID WE HAVE FUN?!?!??!??

[raverinalavara]

Unfair Love

Your fingers were cramping from how hard you were holding the door. Your eyes mad to be deceiving you, Regulus fucking Black cant be standing in front of you. The guy you loved from the simply age of 5 all the way until the end of school. He had been your best friend, the guy you pined over for years and years while he pushed you aside every time he got a girlfriend. Only to suck you right back in when he got bored. 

“No..” You said moving to close the door to your brother's manor. Tom, Mattheo and You were triplets. Magical beings already formed crazy connections but the three of you could literally feel each other and each other's major feelings. So the shock and pain of seeing Regulus had pulled them from the upstairs living room to the top of the stairs. Leaning against opposite walls, Tom positions so he could see down the stairs easily keeping an eye on you while being positioned in a way to be easily overlooked. 

When Regulus pushed his way in, it took everything in both of them to stay put but your voice stopped them. “Tom is home. If that's not bad enough, so is Mattheo. Do not come any further into my home Regulus.” Regulus paused just inside the door, while he had been friends with both boys in school. He also knew they were fiercely protective of their ‘baby’ sister. They would kill each other if the other hurt her, so they would easily Avada him if he pushed to hard. 

“Y/n.. Dont marry him.” He said in a nonchalant tone. Acting like he wasnt rocking her world and trying to crumble her relationship to pieces. “ Regulus.. Your being a dick.” You said unconsciously stepping towards the stairs and pulling your hands up to your chest. He stepped towards you and smiled in a cocky way that made you want to slap him “Come on y/n/n, you know you its always been me.. Dont marry him.” 

Those words sparked anger in your gut. 

Stepping towards him this time you sneer. “I was second to every single girl that even looked your way in school! You literally asked me to the yule ball and then FORGOT and went with some girl from Ravenclaw! I cant.. I wont.. I.. I..” It felt like a let down to your last name when that spark died and never turned into a fire as you started to almost hyperventilate. Every time he broke your heart played through your head as his eyes flicked above your head. 

You didnt need to turn around to know your brothers were coming down. Mattheo was past you quickly, having moved before your breathing even got uneven. Tom wasnt as familiar with panic and anxiety attacks as you and he were. He didnt stop to comfort you as he grabbed his old friend harshly and jerked him out the door. He didnt slam it on his way out knowing that would just startle you and make it worse. 

Tom had always for some reason been the one you went to for comfort. You thought it was probably just because he was the ‘oldest’. He was the one who retucked you into bed when you had bad dreams even though he was the same age. He had always just carried himself in a way that gave big brother vibes. Every where you went people thought you and Matt were twins and Tom was the older brother. 

He would always have a hard time dealing with others feelings but he always made the most effort for his siblings. When you collapsed onto the stairs and started sobbing he moved the rest of the way to you quickly. He tries to get you to calm your breathing but its like you cant hear him. He does the only thing he knows too, the same thing he use to do when you were children and he couldnt wake you from a nightmare. Pressing his forehead to yours he gently entered your mind. it was easy to find you in panic because when all the thoughts finally formed into a picture you were stood frozen while everything moved around you. 

Him saying your name broke your focus as you turned confused then relieved to see him. “Tommy” You said in a broken whisper as he reached for you, tucking your head against his shoulder and hugging you he looked around. “Lets walk through all this, yeah?” Nodding against his chest “I just feel so much right now.. Im so mad at Regulus. Ive tried my entire life to be what he wants, to be someone he sees but he never did. I was just someone to placate his ego in between relationships.” 

Tom watches as memories of you crying, of Regulus manipulating you and leaving flash around him and he squeezes tighter. “He hasnt spoken t-to me in years and then he just shows up here the night before Im supposed to get married?!” You sob and then suck in a harsh breath “Oh my god. Teddy.. Whats he going to think when he finds out I was crying over another man when im supposed to be relaxing and getting ready to marry him!” 

You pull away and pull out of your head and then away from Tom in the real world. Standing you start to pace and pull at your hair. Tom sighs and stands to try and stop you but the door flies open. Mattheo running in frantically looking for you, only to be shoved out of the way by your tall sandy blond fiancee. “Tesoro” He barley whispers as he rushes to pull you into his arms. Your knees giving out again but he keeps you up. His huge hand cups the back of your head and neck as he shushes you gently. 

Theo swears his heart is breaking as your shoulders rack with sobs. He turns to look at his other best friends, Tom is staring at the door, clearing pissed and trying to stay put. Mattheo is pulling at his own hair when he sees the questions in his friends eyes. Hes struggling because he wants to tell him so he can better comfort you, but he doesnt want to betray your trust. Thankfully he doesnt have to, you can feel his panic and pull away just enough too look up. “Regulus was here.” 

Theos head snaps back to you and he tries to reign in his feelings quickly knowing that they will all play out on his face. His first feeling was worry, he had worked so hard to show you how you should actually be treated. So many dates where he couldnt even hold your hand yet. Regulus had treated you so poorly from day one that his nontoxic love was foreign and unwelcome. 

You had grown up in vastly different environments. Birthing triplets had killed your mother. While your father wasn't horrible or abusive, he was unattentive. He would rather you have a nanny (who he sleeps with before replacing and repeating) then try and raise you alone. While Theo grew up with parents who not only loved him but each other. 

Next was anger at the audacity. Then was worry again but this time for you. Taking a deep breath and taking your cheek in one hand he wipes your tears away. “Ok, tell me why your so upset by that. We have to be on the same page to talk through this. Can we go sit down?” you shake your head and pull him up the stairs, away from your brothers to your room. You let go of his hand and keep walking straight for your bathroom. 

After a few mintues long arms wrapped around you, crossing over and gripping your upper arms. “Im here, Tesoro. Whenever your ready.” You didnt register any measure of time as you stood under the water with him holding you and pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder. “I dont deserve you theo..” you say so quietly he almost doesnt hear. Before he can ask what you mean your already speaking. “Here I am, the night before marrying you, crying over some other guy.. God im so horrible.” 

Before your hands can cover your face, Theo has spun you around and is tilting your face forcing you to look at him. He looks just a little annoyed as he speaks, “Dont say that. Do you remember what Tesoro means?” You sniffle and nod but he raises his eyebrows waiting for you to say it. “It means treasure.” He nods and smiles just a little “So.. My Tesoro couldnt be horrible.. I get it darling.. He was your first love, theres a lot of trauma there. I know your not crying because you miss him, your crying for 17 year old you, for 15 year old you and so on. And thats ok, because thats how we heal.” 

Theos heart warmed as you stare up at him in awe. “I know its difficult for you, my love. That this open communication and understanding isnt something that comes naturally too you. So youll have to give me just a little grace while I continue to learn to navigate you. I promise one day Ill be an expert.” He leans in and kisses your forehead, staying there for just a moment to give you both a second to pull yourselves together. 

When he pulled back the smile he loves was back on your face. He sighs happily and kisses your nose before looking at you. Everything was right in his world again, all he needed to do now, was wait for you to go to sleep. Because Regulus.. Well Theo completely understood where YOU were coming from. But Black? Nah. While tending to lean towards his mothers Hufflepuff nature, sometimes he needs to remind people why he was sorted into Slytherin. Why he became friends with The Dark Lords children. Why he and your brothers trusted him to care for you. And tonight, it would be Regulus` turn to learn. 

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

A/N: Look what I have for you. Is it Christmas or what? So, this one is a bit shorter, but I wanted to give you something. I am still a sucker for Logan. I just want him so bad, oh my god!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst, but fluff, implied sex?

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 2500+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine - always!

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

My body winced and I opened my eyes. The nightmare was gone. I was back in the real world. Was it better than the dream? No. But I was back, on a motel bed that smelled like bleach and mould. At least I had a bed to rest on tonight. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be as promising as today. Hell, I could be dead now. 

I felt a warm touch on my belly. Fingers traced patterns on my skin. My eyes lifted, meeting the green ones. “Are you okay, baby?” Logan whispered into the darkness. 

It was a ridiculous question to ask. I was not okay. Shit, he wasn’t either. We went through literal hell. So I snuggled closer to him, sniffing his scent as I tried to suppress my tears. “No,” I mumbled into the white top he wore. “I see them in my dreams, haunting me. They are calling my name, pleading for my help.” 

We lost everything, everyone. 

It started when the mutant hunters killed the strongest of us - Jean. We didn’t know how the fuck they managed to do it. She was the fucking Phoenix. We quickly learnt they created a weapon to strip us of our powers. Afterwards, it was too easy. With Jean gone, we knew the rest of us was next. 

Scott died a week later. He wanted revenge. He tried to kill those who killed his love, his woman. Unfortunately, he was captured, stripped of his powers and murdered. 

Charles felt it all. He felt it when Jean died. He felt when Scott’s heart started to beat. We knew this was the end of the line when he told us. 

The whole school prepared for war. The youngest students were sent home or away with those who didn’t want to fight. The rest of them we trained. They wanted to stay, fight with us, and protect the school and this family we built. 

And we lost. 

They all died. Charles, Storm, Hank, Peter… They were all gone. Logan and I fled the moment we realised there wasn’t much we could do. We saw the dead bodies around the school—our friends, and students, lifeless on the bloody wooden floors in a place we once called home.

I hated we left them there. I hated we couldn’t say goodbye. I would have died too if Logan hadn’t pulled me out of the bloodshed. The thought of leaving Logan alone in this unfair cruel world pained me. At least, we survived together. At least I had him.

It’s been two days since we lost our friends - the family we loved and cherished. Two days since we lost our lives and were on the run. This was the first night we were able to lay low and rest. It was because we escaped the States and entered Canada before being caught. It helped that Logan was Canadian.

Logan kissed my forehead. “I see them, too. Their faces haunt me. That’s why I can’t sleep.” 

A tear escaped my eye. I quickly wiped it away. “There was so much blood, Logan. They let them bleed out.” 

“I know,” he whispered. 

I started to cry. My body was shivering. I felt his arms wrap around my shoulder and middle, pulling me as close to him as possible. “Shhh,” he kissed the top of my head. I couldn’t help myself. My emotions were all over the place. I wasn’t able to mourn the loss properly. We had to hide from the world. There was no time to think about our next steps. 

His touch became soothing. I felt the love radiating towards me. I loved him deeply, madly. For this man, I would sell my soul to the devil. And in this twisted world full of death, I was happy that we survived the biggest nightmare of our lives. 

I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep, but when I opened my eyes again, I saw the sun coming through the crack of the curtains. The big, strong arms never left my body. When I glanced at Logan’s face, his eyes were closed. His breathing was even. He was asleep. Good. 

I remained in his embrace, snuggled to his side. I used this opportunity to think about our next steps. I needed to occupy my mind with something, anything. 

We left the States. Now what? Was it wise to stay in Canada? It was so close to the States. What if they decide to hunt mutants in here, too? Even if we moved north, they’d find us there. And maybe… nowhere was safe. Our destiny was already written. We were doomed. 

My eyes were locked on the beige ceiling, and I imagined a plan as my thoughts ran through my mind. I was going back and forth. When I didn’t like the plan, I erased it to a certain point and then moved forward again. 

Out of nowhere, I gasped. There was an important detail I forgot. How could I be so stupid? 

“What?” Logan’s eyes snapped open. He sat up and pushed me away in the process. His fists were clenched, adamantium claws on full display, ready to fight. His breathing was hard. I scared him. Shit. 

Gently, I put my hand on his chest. “It’s just me, I’m so sorry. Everything’s fine.” 

“You okay, baby?” he asked when his eyes found mine. Once I nodded, the claws retracted and he exhaled. “You scared me, Y/N. I thought someone found us. Don’t fucking ever do that again.” 

I shook my head, pressing him back on the bed. “I’m so sorry. I was just thinking about our future. I had been contemplating our next steps, thinking back and forth. And…” I sighed. “We can’t stay in Canada.” 

He frowned, then raised a brow. “Why?” It was a genuine question. 

“You are Canadian, Logan. This will be the first country they’d start to look for you - for us,” I explained. “I get that Canada is one of the biggest states in the world. But, as I said, the main focus would be here, once they have permission to strike here.” 

Logan frowned, not pleased with what I said. It took him a good twenty seconds before he nodded. “Well, you aren’t wrong. So, where should we go?” 

“Scotland.” 

He opened his mouth, closed it, and did it a few times before he said, “Why Scotland?” 

My fingers traced his beard-covered jawline. “I’m half Scottish,” I said. “Scottish-American. I have two passports. I have them here. I took them before we left. I have your IDs and all.” 

“H-how?”

“Always prepared for the worst,” I admitted sadly. “Kept them in a bag with some money and all,” I explained. “When Jean died, I made sure we were ready. I prepared an emergency bag that I kept in a hidden spot. That’s why I ran to the first escape door. The bag was under the floor.”

“My sweet angel,” he exhaled and leaned to me to press his lips on mine. “Always ready. But, no offence, you don’t sound Scottish. You don’t look Scottish,” he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. “You never told me.” 

My eyes moved around the room, stopping at the creek of the sun coming in. “My father was Scottish. Mother was American. When they died, my mother’s sisters wanted to take me in. They were super religious. They thought they’d be able to cure my mutation with God’s mighty power,” I rolled my eyes. “Luckily, my grandma took me in. I lived with her until I was twenty. Then I decided to move back to the States.” 

Logan’s fingers brushed my hair. “Thank fucking god you did.” When I looked at him, he was smiling. “Otherwise I wouldn’t met you.” 

I climbed over him, putting all my weight on his body. He didn’t mind. Logan’s arms immediately wrapped around me. “We should head to Scotland,” I whispered. “It’s not Canada but my grandmother lives in a village, near the woods. It was magical then. It should be magical now, too.”

He raised a brow, watching me like a hawk. “How do you know she’s still alive?” 

My fingers brushed his nose. “Because I can feel her,” I said. “She’s a mutant too.”

“She is? What’s her mutation?” 

“Nature control,” I explained. “I’m not saying she’s the strongest, but she’s powerful enough to communicate with me through nature, all those miles away.” 

His lips found mine in a gentle kiss. “So we head to Scotland,” he whispered.

“Will you be able to get through the flight?”

His nose scrunched. “For you, I’ll do anything, baby. I’ll get on the fucking plane and suffer through it if it means to be with you.” 

Those words brought tears to my eyes. “I love you. Thank you.” 

. . .

Where are the mutants? It’s been ten years since Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters was destroyed. Since then, no one has seen a mutant. Are they hiding? Are they extinct? More on that this afternoon, at four PM. 

I sighed. Another radio show about mutants. Great. Will they ever leave us at peace? I put my coffee mug down, my eyes locked on the kitchen window as I watched the rain heavily fall from the sky. I loved this dark, cold weather. Autumn in Scotland was magical. Yes, some hated the weather, but not me. I enjoyed it. 

Big hands wrapped around my midsection, pressing me as close to a firm stomach and chest as possible. I hummed, smiling. His scent made my knees weak even after all this time. His lips pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“How is my wife today?” Logan’s voice was low but soft. He smelled like rain, mud and oil. He just came back from work. At least he took off the wet clothes before he got all over me. 

Logan and I got married two years after we moved to Scotland. My grandmother died a year before that. I was lucky enough to spend some time with her before she passed. Oh, but she loved Logan. She always called him: my sweet boy. 

I put my hands over his, sighing. “I’m better now that you are here. There was another radio show about mutants,” I said. “How was work?” 

“Alan got stuck under a tree and broke his leg,” he said. “I helped him out and we got him to the nearest hospital. So, he’ll be out for about six to eight weights. Which means a bit more work but more money.” 

I turned around in his arms, eyes meeting his. “How much work? Will you be coming late to us?” 

Logan leaned closer and pressed his lips against mine. “Don’t worry, baby. Nothing drastic, maybe staying at work for an hour longer. And it’s not gonna happen every day. I wouldn’t want to be without you all longer than I need to.” 

Again, our lips met in a sweet kiss, then another until he pressed me against the kitchen counter. His big hand gripped my hips. He was hungry, I could feel it. Even his erection was evident. I wanted him. “Wait, where are the kids?” he pulled from the kiss. 

“In the barn,” I moaned when his lips left mine. I needed him. I put my hands on his chest. This was the perfect opportunity fuck in the kitchen while the kids were nowhere near the house. And hell, it’s been some time since we were intimate. I unbuttoned his flannel shirt. 

We had two kids. Charles, whom we called Charlie, was almost ten. My grandmother was able to see him as an infant before she passed away. She wasn’t happy that we had a child before marriage. But she was all giddy and happy for us once she saw the baby.

And then there was Emma Maria, after my grandmother and Rogue, our friend. She was eight. As far as we knew, Charlie’s mutation didn’t show up. It was only a matter of time before they blossomed. At least both of our children could enjoy childhood without being a threat to the world. 

Logan pulled on my lower lip. “Pretty baby is needy?” He hoisted me up on the kitchen counter, stepping between my legs. “I know, it’s been a while since I was inside you.” His hands stroke my thighs. One of them crawled crawled up my body and the other cupped my clothed sex. 

I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch until he kissed me gently and stepped away. “They are coming inside,” he sighed. Immediately, I whined. 

As I hopped off the kitchen counter, the back door opened, and our children entered the tiny hallway. We heard them undressing and talking to each other. Emma coughed. I frowned. I hoped she wasn’t getting sick. 

Logan leaned against the kitchen aisle, waiting for the kids as I jumped off the counter. Once Emma’s eyes noticed him, she smiled at him. “Hi, dad!” 

“Hey, princess,” he greeted her. He took her into his big arms once she was close, pressing a kiss on top of her head. “What you were doing in the barn?” 

“We have kittens!” she said excitedly. 

I raised a brow. “Oh? Since when?” I saw a stray cat a few times here. I didn’t know she was expecting babies. Well, at least we’ll have someone to catch mice around here. Also, it was beautiful news. I loved cats.

Charlie hugged his father. “They are a couple of days old,” he explained. “She had five of them.” 

“Five?” Logan sighed. I knew he wasn’t happy about it. Before he opened his mouth, I gave him a warning glare. 

“They are so cute and tiny,” Emma smiled. “We’ll keep them, right?” She glared at her father and then at me.

I nodded. “Of course, Em. They can stay in the barn. We have some old towels and clothes. I think I have a spare plastic container for water. We’ll give them a safe home and they’ll be with us.” 

“Baby,” Logan sighed. 

I raised a hand. I didn’t want to hear a word about it. When I found the container, I gave it to Emma. “You’ll bring them water. Charlie, find an old carton box in the garage. I’ll fetch you the towels. And listen,” I turned to him. “Put it into the box nicely and leave the box in a secure, warm space. Don’t put the kittens there. She’ll do it herself,” I explained. 

The moment both kids disappeared, Logan shook his head. “I don’t like this, baby.” 

“Let them have this,” I said. “We don’t have a dog. The cats will stay in the barn and outside. No one is taking them into the house, okay?” 

“Uh-huh,” he rolled his eyes. “Give it a day or two. Emma will sneak them in.” 

I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him closer to me. “I have my ways of convincing you,” I purred. I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “Just be a good daddy and let the kittens stay.” 

He shook his head, chuckling. Logan leaned closer, his lips to my ear. “I might need a little more convincing to keep the kittens. So, be prepared.” 

I pressed my lips to his cheek. “I love you, Logan.” 

He smiled at me. “Love you too, baby. And the kids, and this life.”