#and honestly I fear that someday because of such moments I would stop liking him or even start to hate him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marcyvamp1re-blog · 7 days ago

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𖦹 ࣪˖ ◂ To The Future⊹ ˖ ࣪✦

WHAT IF!! | Diana Prince, The Wonder Woman, and her wife had a baby? But the problem is...how?

Synopsis; Diana loved you, and in her love, there was everything you needed: an infinite calm in her arms, a refuge in her words, and a future full of promises they didn’t yet know how to write. Together, without haste, without fear, only with the whisper of a love that grew day by day, building a home that needed no words, just shared glances and fleeting smiles.

Pairing ── Diana Prince x Wife! Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Fluff, Mentions of pregnancy, babys, elements of experimentation, mild angst, themes of family, and emotional vulnerability.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— A flood of posts is coming. Honestly, I've always wanted to write about Wonder Woman x reader (my inner lesbian speaking U.U) — she's my true "Hear me out" moment.

There always comes that inevitable point in relationships when the conversation turns to family. But in your case, we’re not talking about just any relationship. No, you’ve been happily married for three years to none other than Wonder Woman herself. The impossible dream of any average mortal, and here you are, sharing your morning coffee with the Amazon princess while debating whether the coffee should have sugar or not.

Then, one day, you notice it. At first, it’s small, subtle gestures. Maybe she takes you to the park on any random Saturday, and suddenly her eyes shine a little too brightly when a couple with a stroller walks by. “Isn’t it adorable?” she says, pointing to the baby who’s sleeping like it’s dreaming of cotton clouds. Or maybe, while shopping at some store, she stops in front of a mannequin wearing a tiny Wonder Woman costume, complete with a miniature tiara. “Look at this,” she says, holding it up with a smile. “Don’t you think someone in our family would look perfect in this someday?”

And then there’s the direct talk, as only Diana could do it. Straightforward, but with that sweetness that disarms you. “I’ve been thinking,” she says one night while you both watch the stars from the terrace, her hair gently waving in the breeze. “You and I… we could be wonderful parents.” And even though she says it seriously, there’s a playful gleam in her eyes.

But of course, this is Diana, Wonder Woman. For every serious conversation, there’s an avalanche of charmingly chaotic moments. Like that time she taught you how to hold a baby using a sack of rice because, according to her, “a warrior must be prepared for any situation.” Or that other time, during dinner with Clark and Lois, she launched into a philosophical debate about whether their baby should have an Amazonian, human, or Kryptonian name “just in case”—leaving you with your face completely red.

The problem came later, when you both looked at each other one afternoon in the Batcave, in front of a whiteboard full of equations, diagrams, and something that looked like a drawing of a baby with a cape, made by you in a burst of nerves. Yes, that was the tricky part: how.

The conversation with Batman was, in short, awkward.

“Let me see if I understand,” Bruce said, massaging the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You want me to use my resources, technology, and—oh, I don’t know—my few hours of sleep, to figure out how an Amazonian and a human can have a biological child.”

“Exactly,” Diana replied, crossing her arms with the naturalness of someone who had already defeated gods. “Why are you making that face? You’ve done more complicated things.”

“Not with babies involved.”

Meanwhile, you tried not to make eye contact. After all, how do you explain to a man who spent his life as a dark knight that you now needed him for something so… personal?

Despite his reluctance, Bruce agreed to help. But not without conditions. “This doesn’t leave the circle. Not a word to Clark or Barry. Ever.” His look was so severe that even Diana raised an eyebrow, amused.

J’onn J’onzz, on the other hand, was a little more kind when consulted. “It’s a fascinating topic from a scientific perspective,” he said with that alien calm that seemed to come from centuries of Martian patience. “Though I must warn you, interdimensional hybrids aren’t a widely explored field.”

“Thanks for the optimism, J’onn,” you replied, glancing sideways at how Bruce and Diana argued about whether Amazonian genes could overpower normal humans.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of experiments, consultations, and technology that seemed straight out of a science fiction movie. J’onn led the genetic analysis, while Bruce applied his methodical obsession to create a viable procedure. Every night, Diana came home with a detailed report and summarized it for you with a mix of enthusiasm and seriousness.

“Bruce says we might need a Kryptonian catalyst,” she said one day, as if she were talking about what to have for dinner. “Do you think Clark will mind if we ask him for a hair sample?”

By the time everything was ready, you were already used to the strangest conversations of your life. But when the time came, when Diana held your hand while J’onn and Bruce confirmed that their plan would work, you couldn’t help but smile. They had achieved the impossible.

And so, with the help of a grumpy dark knight and a Martian with infinite patience, your dream of starting a family with Diana began to take shape. Because, in the end, if there’s one thing that heroes understand better than anyone, it’s that no challenge is too great when it comes to love.

The months flew by, and with each one, the Batcave became a second home for you and Diana. Every week, you would enter the dark, cold sanctuary of Gotham, where Batman, or more specifically Bruce, waited with an air of seriousness and a look that made you feel like you were participating in a high-risk operation. And in a way, you were.

Diana, although more than capable of facing the universe’s greatest threats, couldn’t help but show a completely human vulnerability when it came to her baby. At first, she tried to hide it, but every time Bruce, J'onn, or worse, Tim, began to review the baby’s growth with that scientific look, her face would tense. Tim, the Robin at that time, was so meticulous that he seemed to enjoy measuring every aspect of the baby’s development more than anyone else, as if he were calculating the exact moment a future superhero might crawl out of the crib and start kicking butt.

“Everything seems to be in order,” Tim said, again and again, checking the monitors as if it were a game. Diana smiled, but you could see her fingers interlacing with Bruce’s, looking for some sign of support. Bruce, meanwhile, kept observing in silence, calculating every possible scenario with a sharp mind, but also a little bit of affection hidden between his words.

“If Tim tells you it’s fine, it probably is,” he said with his voice tone that left no room for doubt, but that, to you, sounded strangely reassuring. He wasn’t used to showing many emotions, but when Diana couldn’t help but bite her lip, he noticed.

Every time Bruce and Tim gathered to review the baby’s growth, she would remain still, as if waiting for a verdict. “Is everything okay? Is this all we hoped for?” she would ask from time to time, even though the answers were already quite clear.

And then, the day came.

It all happened in the blink of an eye: a quick trip to the Batcave, followed by a torrent of emotions that no one could have anticipated. Diana, calmer than you expected, held the baby with a softness that only she could have. And there it was, the little being that had been the center of so many scientific consultations, now wrapped in the warmth of the woman who had carried it in her womb.

“It’s a girl,” Bruce murmured, his deep voice but with a rare warmth. “Welcome to the world.”

Diana’s smile was as bright as the sun. Her eyes, always so firm, were now filled with infinite sweetness as she looked at her daughter, who slept peacefully in her arms.

If it was a girl, things were simple. She could grow up on Themyscira, surrounded by the peace of the island, with the ancient warriors and her grandmother, Hippolyta, to guide her. The aunts would also be there, and they could teach her the secrets of her lineage, as well as her mother’s story. Diana could freely take her to the island and watch her grow in an environment of love and power.

But if it was a boy… the rules were different. Although Diana’s love, yours, and her grandmother’s would be endless, they couldn’t take the little one to Themyscira for now. The island, a place of ancient traditions and mystical protections, wasn’t the best place for a human child at the moment. There were too many dangers and secrets still to be understood, and Diana knew the boy would need a larger, more complicated world before he could be part of that sacred refuge.

When J'onn confirmed the gender, Diana's relief was palpable, and although the joy of holding her daughter was absolute, there was also a slight shadow of concern at the thought of what might have been if it had been a boy.

But as the hours passed and the little being with bright eyes and a peaceful smile woke up, Diana leaned over her, whispering with unconditional love, “Everything will be fine. The world will be ours to give her.”

And as the little girl snuggled against her mother, both knew that no matter what the future held, their family had already begun to take shape. With Diana’s love, yours, and the support of all the heroes around them, the little being would grow up in a world full of protection, love, and adventures that would undoubtedly surpass any challenge.

A/N ── Since I was little, when I lived in a messed-up country, Wonder Woman has always been one of my favorite heroes. I have other heroes I love too, but with Diana, I kneel and pray, no kidding! She’s so gorgeous, especially in those fanarts of Buff! Wonder Woman… God, she drives me crazy, I adore her to the core. It’s like my heart is a suit of armor about to crumble because of her!

#x reader #fem reader #wonder woman #wonder woman x reader #bruce wayne #diana prince #diana of themyscira #diana prince x reader #barry allen #j'onn j'onzz #tim drake #red robin #clark kent #lois lane

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ashleyh713fanfics · 11 months ago

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Dazai X Odasaku!Sister "Timeless" P1

Hello! I've been writing for awhile but this is the first time writing bsd. I gave Oda's sister a name but I'll do a version with y/n if that's more your speed. Synopsis: After Odasaku's death Dazai searches for a way to fulfill his last request but doesn't know where to start. That is until he meets Odasaku's mysterious little sister. Warnings: Usual bsd warnings. Murder, talks of death and suicide, Dazai being a sociopath. Part 1/3

Osamu Dazai was not a good man.

In fact, it would be absurd to even call him an average man. No, it seemed the fifteen year old boy knew just what kind of evil laid in every single cell of his body. It had always been that way, corrupting him for his entire life and there was no stopping it.

So the mafia executive had just accepted it, falling in line as the youngest person to ever command a fleet with absolutely no mercy. That’s just the way things were, and there was no changing them. Although, it wasn’t like the boy wanted change either.

The chaos, the destruction, the death, it was all he had known.

Hearing his newest victim's scream seemingly brought him out of his own philosophical thought though, causing the boy to lower his eyes and focus back in on the chained man in front of him.

Quite honestly, he had forgotten what the guy was being captured and tortured for but Dazai hardly cared, knowing his orders were only to silence him permanently.

Blood began to pour down the victim's face then, watching as the teenage boy reached for the gun on his belt only for the guy to start to scream and shout in his face. “Think about what you're doing, boy! If you kill me you’re going to regret it.”

Dazai only turned his head though, a crazed look in his eye as he cocked the ammunition. “You should have thought about that before double crossing the port mafia.”

Taking a step forward, the boy then pointed the barrel towards the man only for his anger to turn into pure fear, his cries turning into silence as he fully looked in the eyes of his executioner.

And what he saw was absolutely nothing, just a soulless boy with no remorse for his actions in the slightest. “Your eyes hold no feeling, Someday that will be your downfall, someday you will regret the blood you spill so easily.”

For a moment, the bandaged boy paused, curiosity taking up his features as he spoke through the darkness. “And why is that?”

The prisoner then pulled against his chains, lunging for the kid to no avail as his face contorted in insanity in order for him to reply. “Because one day, there won't be a stranger on the other side of that gun. What will you do then?”

Before he could finish, Dazai’s finger pulled the trigger, piercing the enemy five times straight as his lips curled into a bloodthirsty and terrifying smile.

And in his head, the boy replied to his outrages question as the blood began to soak his feet silently. The same thing I always do, because I don't see anyone but strangers.

The man's lifeless body slumped against the chains a moment later as Dazai let off ten more shots into his cold dead muscles as he twitched at the impact. The move was inhumane and psychotic but that was always Dazai’s way of doing things.

He didn’t become a port mafia executive without spilling blood after all.

After a moment, the barrel of his gun clicked him back to reality, all the bullets emptied in order for the boy to simply put the weapon back onto his belt and leave the room in silence.

He felt no remorse for the stranger, or for the brutal way he had ended his life. He never did. Everything had become such second nature to him over time.

Well, there was one person that knew him better than the rest. He was the person that he trusted over all else, almost like a family he never had. The words were still heavy on his mind even now.

Oda Sakunosuke

And whether Dazai liked it or not, he knew that Odasaku was the only one that kept him from going over the deep end into insanity. He kept the fifteen year old boy together and kept him human.

But now he was dead, so there was no one left to hold back the darkness.

So instead Dazai allowed it to fully swallow him whole.

Just then, his phone began to ring inside his pocket before the boy finally put his gun away and answered the call with a low murmur. “Mori, what do I owe the pleasure?”

HIs boss’s voice was immediate, echoing through the darkness. “Ah Dazai, how’s my favorite executive doing? What’s the report?”

Staring at the unmoving body, Dazai then sighed to himself before turning away from the sight in order to scrape some of his blood off his shoes. “The target has been eliminated just like you asked.”

Mori only hummed at that, satisfied with the report. “Very good. Just as expected from the famous demon prodigy. I thought you could use a job after everything that’s happened. You know, to clear your mind from Odasaku’s tragic death last week.”

At the sound of Oda’s name, the boy couldn’t help but tighten his hold on the phone as unwanted memories flooded into him without permission.

Because try as he may, Dazai couldn’t help but continue to hear his dear friend's words in the back of his head. Oda told him to become a good man but that was easier said than done. And though he wanted to fulfill his last wish, the boy had no idea what the mere concept of good was.

For you see, his blood was port mafia black through and through whether he liked it or not. It wasn’t a light switch he could flick in his mind. No, Dazai knew that he had been permanently tainted since he was a child, and there was no reversing that.

He was no longer a fifteen year old kid but rather the demon prodigy.

And demons couldn’t be cleansed into angels. They just couldn’t.

But because of that, the boy felt a gnawing guilt at the bottom of his stomach at all times of the day. It’s like it was punishing him for ignoring his old friend's request. But quite honestly, he knew he deserved it.

Oda was wrong after all, he couldn’t become a good person.

He didn’t even know what good was.

Dazai then felt his mind snap back into place just as he heard Mori finish one of his usual rambles as the boy narrowed his eyes. The boss totally brought up Odasaku because he knew it would garner a reaction from him.

But he wasn’t going to allow that. No, he was too prideful to show his flaws.

Because of that, the boy then forced a smile to his lips before speaking plainly. “Is there anything else you need from me, boss?”

The title came out slightly demeaning, Dazai using the term boss with a twinge of mocking vigor to get under his skin. The boy loved to do that, walking the fine line between respect and disrespect.

“Not partially. I just wanted to see how you were doing. He was your friend after all.” Mori’s sharp dark laugher filled up the space as the boy physically flinched at the world friend.

But once again, Dazai refused to give him satisfaction, the boy simply smiling to myself before turning his head to the side in reply. “I’m great. Thanks.”

Then Dazai simply hung up the phone, the empty space echoing with a long dial tone as he dropped his bandaged arm down to his side as the sunken dead look in his eyes stared at the empty walls for what seemed like forever.

He wanted to see how he was doing?

Of course he wasn’t doing okay.

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Dazai had tried to go back to his room at the port mafia but the longer the night got, the more his tired anxious eyes refused to shut. And when they did, he saw Odasaku’s life slip from his fingers, just like it had a week ago.

The boy cursed Mori for bringing up such fragile memories so casually, his body tossing and turning with a groan before finally giving up in order to wander the night streets aimlessly as the cold winter air hit his face.

Although he said that though, the boy quickly found himself wandering into a very familiar place, his hands reaching into his pocket in order to pull out a small silver key and push it into the lock.

The door swung open sadly, allowing the kid to step inside before finally feeling the weight of reality crash down all around him. This was Oda’s place, the apartment where Dazai had found himself many times over the years whenever the mafia felt a little too suffocating.

It was also the place they would go sometimes after having a few too many drinks at Bar Lupin.

Glancing over to the empty living room he pictured a memory of the past as he imagined the ghostly silhouettes of himself, Ango and Oda as they drank around the table and laughed as the men showed him some new card game.

And as cold as Dazai’s heart was now, he missed those times. Why did he take such a thing for granted? Why didn’t he cherish those nights more? He could never get them back no matter how hard he tried.

In fact, the boy had come here tonight in search of something familiar, for something that reminded him of that safe comforting feeling he always had with his old friends. But now, it was cold and empty, just like how the boy felt on the inside.

He couldn’t find Odasaku’s presence anywhere, not even in this place.

Sighing to himself, the boy then walked over to the liquor cabinet in the corner before taking out two glasses and filling them up with whiskey.

Then Dazai lowered his eyes before placing one of the drinks on the table where Oda used to sit before moving over to the other side with a sigh.

Staring at the empty, cruel space across from him, the boy then took a sip of his whiskey as an unwanted wave of emotion coursed through his throat. “Odasaku..”

Suddenly, the entrance to his friend’s apartment started to jiggle and move, like someone was on the other side, as Dazai felt his defenses awaken immediately.

It sounded like someone was trying to break in. But who? Oda told him the only people that knew this place were him and Ango.

Quickly taking out his gun, the boy then narrowed his eyes before slipping out of slight just as the door flew open a moment later. Whoever was trying to steal from his old friend was going to pay for sure.

Dazai then listened carefully as a pair of shoes moved across the wooden floors, the movement halting as the stranger seemingly stopped to stare at the two strange whiskey glasses on the table.

He couldn’t see very much from the angle he was in, only that the stranger was wearing a large black hoodie, the fabric covering up the entirety of their frame and hiding their identity completely.

They then leaned down to touch one of the glasses as the boy quickly cocked his gun in order to place the barrel of his gun onto the back of their temple as the stranger froze.

And when he spoke, it was lethally calm. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The stranger was quiet as he watched their hands reach towards their jacket pocket only for the Dazai to assume it was a gun and take action. No, he wasn’t an idiot. Like this guy could pull a fast one on him.

Because of that, Dazai’s face immediately hardened before reaching forward in order to grab the intruder's arm, his fingers wrapping around the surprisingly slim surface before kicking their legs out from under them as they fell backwards onto the ground.

The boy hardly noticed them give a small squeak of surprise at the move.

Pushing the barrel of the gun towards the stranger, the boy added slowly. “You have one chance. Tell me why you’re here.”

The person underneath him tried to squirm but Dazai didn’t let them free, tightening his hold on the trigger before narrowing his eyes. If they didn’t want to tell them who they were then he could just examine the corpse later.

Yet that’s when they heard the intruder speak, soft and quiet, barely above a whisper. And call him crazy but they sounded feminine. “I’m looking for someone.”

Not understanding, he dug deeper. “Who?”

The girl was quiet then, her voice trailing away only for his gun to push even deeper to her temple in warning. No, he wouldn’t allow her to stay silent after dishonoring his old friend's old place.

A moment later she spoke again, except this time the boy was in no way prepared for her answer. “My big brother.”

And try as he may, the demon prodigy paused at that, his hand frozen on the gun as he couldn’t help but turn his head to the side. What the hell was she talking about? Why would her big brother be at Oda’s old place?

Although that’s when a crazy possibility popped into his head before the boy brushed it away immediately. No, that was ridiculous. There was no way.

Scoffing at the idea, Dazai frowned. “Your what?”

The stranger then seemingly sighed to herself before lifting her hand up as his defenses slammed back up in case she tried to try something funny. “He stopped answering my letters a week ago so I thought something might have happened to him. I hopped the first flight I could get and followed the return address on his envelopes.”

Then he watched her reach into her pocket only for his hand to push it back with a lot of anxiety. He didn’t trust this girl, she could’ve been lying, screwing him over. “Nice try but I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. I’m not in the best mood right now.”

Stopping immediately, the intruder’s hand grew tense and rigid against his fingers and for a moment the boy thought she was going to fight back or use some unknown ability on him.

Not that it would matter though considering his ability canceled out everyone else’s. She didn’t stand a chance, especially while he was holding her. No, Dazai would win. It was a guarantee.

Yet it seemed like the girl wasn’t as dumb as he once anticipated, her hand unmoving as she allowed the boy to hold her captive. “Then grab it yourself and see I’m not lying.”

Grab it himself? No, why would he do that? That would just give her the opportunity to stab him or inject him with some kind of poison or something.

Yet the alternative of having her retrieve whatever it is she was trying some him was equally dangerous. No, he couldn’t allow her that kind of freedom.

Because of that the boy narrowed his eyes before hastily reaching his hand out in order to shove it inside the girl’s small pocket on the front side of her drawstring sweatshirt only to pull out a folded envelope just like she had described.

Lifting up the white paper to his face, the boy then recognized the very same address they were at right now, Oda’s address, the one that no one was supposed to know except him and Ango. It was suspicious and strange but she also seemed to be telling the truth.

Just then, Dazai’s face started to grow insanely pale, shaking away the thought before crumbling the empty envelope in his fingers with a scared mutter. “What is your name?”

Her response was immediate, causing the fifteen year old boy’s eyes to widen and his world to come crashing down around him. “Asagao Oda.”

Suddenly, it felt hard to breathe, to think as the boy’s lips slipped out a breathy gasp in reply. No, it couldn’t be. She was fucking with him. There was no way, there was no way he wouldn’t have known about that. Oda was his best friend and he never mentioned this.

Shaking his head in denial, Dazai’s hand began to shake on his gun, his teeth gritting together as he shoved the barrel further into her hidden temple. “Now I know you’re lying. How about you try again?”

The stranger could see this also though, her body moving once again in order to prop herself up onto her elbows and put her hands out in some kind of defense. “I know it’s probably hard to believe but I am..I’m....

Yet the moment Dazai saw movement, his crazed eyes snapped down to the girl before reaching forward in order to grasp onto the top of her hood with a furious shout.” Bullshit, who are you?!”

How dare she deceive him by telling such crazy lies. She would pay for that, for soiling Oda’s honor. He just had to know who she really was first.

Pulling the black fabric down a moment later, Dazai’s gun wasted no time, slamming the barrel into her chest as the girl fell off balance and back onto the floor with a breathy gasp. Now to see who this witch really was.

Yet the moment he adjusted his eyes, Dazai found the very same deep crimson hair he knew for years, pouring down around the sides of the hooded jacket as he stared down at her deep blue cavendish eyes that he had looked into so many times before.

Oh my god, she was a spitting image of his old friend, Odasaku.

But how could that be?

He watched her groan at the sudden force, her eyes squinting behind a pair of large round glasses that took up the majority of her face before opening them again and looking at the gun pointed at her chest.

And though she was so close to death, the girl didn’t dare move, her eyes locking back to the boy’s before Dazai felt his voice break with utter shock.

In that moment, for a split second, the boy didn’t feel like a mafia executive but rather just a confused fifteen year old boy, his voice incredibly small. “It can't be..Odasaku had a little sister..?”

Because if this was true, why didn’t Odasaku mention her, why didn’t he tell him about her? He thought they were friends. But was that wrong? What else did he hold back from the boy?

Yet the moment Oda’s name slipped from his lips, the girl's eyes widened before lifting her hands up to his black jacket in order to utterly ignore the gun that was pressed to her chest. “Wait, you know my brother? Where is he? Please tell me..”

She sounded desperate, the action causing Dazai’s finger to float above the trigger before those horrible memories of his best friend's death flashed through him once more. If she really was his sister, then he knew she’d never find him.

Because of that, the boy told the truth, his voice dull and cruel. “He’s dead.”

And then he waited, he waited for the girl to cry, to scream, to plead with him for something that was already determined and carried out. That’s what the normal response would be, that’s what everyone else did when someone died.

Well, not Dazai but literally everyone else.

Instead, the girl who claimed to be Odasaku’s sister only stayed silent, fingers not moving from his jacket in order for her to close her eyes with something that Dazai read as disappointment before she muttered sadly. “Oh, I see. I hoped that wasn’t the case.”

Pausing for a moment, Asagao then added softly. “How did he go?”

Flashes of that day began to play in his head once more before the boy decided to give her the truth, knowing it wouldn’t matter either way. “He was murdered. I saw it myself.”

Once again, the large rimmed glasses girl only remained silent, like she was thinking something to herself before Asagao replied back sadly. “That must have been very hard on you. I’m sorry..”

And for a moment, Dazai paused. Why was she saying that? Wasn’t she Odasaku’s sister? Surely she sould’ve been the one more broken up about this information. It was like she didn’t even care.

No, that wasn’t right. It was more complex than that. She looked sad enough, but it seemed like she couldn’t make some kind of connection in her brain. In fact, the strange girl showed more emotion towards a total stranger than herself. How strange.

Because of that, the boy turned his head in curiosity. “Why do you say that?”

Asagao only smiled though, the tips of her mouth not quite reaching her eyes as she glanced over to the two glasses of whiskey next to them. “Because if I know one thing, it’s that anyone that pours a drink for the dead truly valued their life.”

Sighing to herself, the girl then looked back to the gun that was holding her hostage before nodding. “Either way, thank you for telling me, and for being there with him in his last moments. I’m grateful to you for that. At least now I know he was truly loved by someone.”

Grateful? Now that was a new one. Usually his enemies weren’t grateful for the torture they received. And Dazai would be lying if he said he wasn't fascinated by the different and strange response.

So much so, a sadistic smile spread across his face without meaning to. “Should you really be thanking me when I have a gun pressed to your chest?”

The girl then paused before glancing back down towards the gun in order to lift her fingers up and press the barrel further into her chest with a sad smile that Dazai couldn’t decipher.

And when she spoke, it brimmed with so much honest passion. “Now that I found out how much you treasured my brother, I wouldn’t mind dying if it’s you that pulls the trigger. Then maybe I could finally feel close to him..”

Pausing slightly at her honest declaration, the boy processed her words with interest and confusion. No one had ever said that to him before. No one had wanted him to be their executioner before. How strange

And it was no secret that Dazai didn’t think much about life, calling it meaningless and pointless. Hell, he had tried to die hundreds of times in order to finally painlessly drift away from such mediocrity.

But staring at the girl that somehow wore his best friend's face, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. She didn’t seem scared of death like others. Her face wore a sense of peace and calm he had never seen before from a victim of his.

No, that’s not right. She was scared of death, of course she was, but somehow this stranger found comfort in him pulling the trigger. And for a moment he wanted to ask why, to figure out the methods and inner workings of the girl who claimed to be Odasaku’s sister.

Yet the moment his fingers graced the trigger once more, the door next to them seemingly slammed open in order for another voice to enter the space.

And this time, they sounded stressed. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Then all at once, both Dazai and Asagao turned in unison only to find a very familiar frazzled man staring back at them, the girl speaking first. “A-Ango?”

Ango only narrowed his eyes though, the man gazing at the very strange and suggestive position the two were in before shaking his head in disbelief. Dazai was practically straddling the poor girl right now with his thighs and without context things did look slightly odd.

If the gun wasn’t there the man surely would’ve thought something else was going on.

Dazai didn’t seem to care about that though, his head turning in confusion at the strange girl. Wait, she just said his old friend's name. That meant.. “You know him?”

Asa didn’t have time to reply though, Ango quickly pointed to the red haired female before speaking with exasperation. “You..what are you doing here?”

The man then gave Dazai a look, causing the boy to sigh and finally let his captive go in order to put the gun back in his hollister. Ango didn’t seem on edge by her which meant that she wasn’t a threat, currently..

Feeling her lips curve up into a goofy smile, Asa then simply leaped from the floor in order to race towards Ango with her arms open wide as she beamed. “Ango! What a surprise, I guess this our first time meeting. How awkward, am I right? Ha ha ha. Small world. That’s crazy, really.”

The man only sighed though, already expecting her moves before placing a hand on her face and pushing her back lightly in order to stop the assault. “I knew you’d come here. Good thing I had the government track your movements just in case. Looks like I got here just in time.”

Frowning at the rejection, Asa then pouted her lips before rubbing the spot where his hand was just moments prior. “Well that’s a little invasive..”

Ango didn’t feel as carefree though, the man immediately putting a hand to his temple in the sign of a headache. “Obviously it was needed. Did you not listen to your brother’s instructions? He said for you to stay out of Yokohama, to not go looking for him. Or did you forget that?”

Dazai then watched the girl pause before dropping her hand in order to awkwardly laugh in a fake cutesy manner. “I may have chosen to admit that part from my memory. Oops?”

Shrugging her shoulders in reply, Ango only shook his head, obviously over her antics. “Oops? That’s all you have to say? Seriously Asagao, what would Oda say..?”

Yet at the sound of Oda’s name, Dazai felt his head perk up. Even Ango was mentioning Oda and her together. That could only mean one thing. The things she was claiming were true, weren’t they?

Not wanting to believe it, the boy called out. “Ango, was she telling the truth? Is she really..”

Although before he could finish, Ango simply put a hand up, not wanting to deal with such a revelation for some reason. “Dazai, please..”

The way he was shutting him down was strange, almost like the man didn’t want Dazai to put together the facts that Odasaku had a little sister and that she was standing before them. But why? Why was Ango, a traitor, allowed to know and not him?

Something was off about all of this.

Just then, his thoughts got interrupted as Asa gasped loudly, her eyes turning towards the boy in excited disbelief. “Wait, Dazai? As in Osamu Dazai? No way, for real?!”

And before he could process it, the girl was up in his face, her blue eyes piercing his through her circular frames in order to look at him like some sort of rare museum artwork she had just found.

Speaking happily, the girl beamed. “Oh wow. I can’t believe it, brother wrote about you in his letters. I feel like I already know you…”

She then reached her fingers out to touch him, causing the boy to counter only for Ango to do so for him, his voice firm. “Asagao!”

Then Odasaku’s sister’s face lit up with some kind of realization before taking a step back with a sort of bashful smile. “Ah, right. Personal space. Sorry, my bad. I got excited. I just wanted to take a good look at you. I guess most people would think that’s rude though. My bad. You probably think I’m some sort of freak now. Ah, well that’s nothing new really.

Putting her hands up in defense, Asa then backtracked. Well she tried, but Dazai could still see the giddy glee in her face, almost like she was trying to suppress it. “I'm just really happy to meet you, that’s all. I just know we can be good friends. Oh! I know, what if..”

Ango only stopped her again though, almost like he was afraid of what she was going to say next. “Asagao…”

Turning her head, the girl hummed in confusion, obviously not seeing anything wrong. “Hmm?”

The government official only frowned though, his hands moving up to hover over her mouth with an exhausted sigh. “Stop talking.”

Asa didn’t seem offended though, her brow turning down in understanding before nodding with an apologetic smile. “Right, sorry. Overdoing it. Got it.”

Shaking his head in exasperation, the government official then turned away from her before pointing to the very curious mafioso that was watching. “Dazai, I need to see you outside. And you..”

Asa pointed to herself at that, turning her head innocently. “Me?”

Nodding once, the man continued roughly. “Yes you. You better not move a muscle cause when I come back I’m sending you right back home.”

Dazai then watched her lips open with pure shock in order for her voice to come out in a whine of protest. “Whaaa? Come on Ango. That’s not fair. I just..”

Ango only cut her off though, his tone serious. “It’s not up for debate. Your brother is gone and I promised him that you would never get involved in this. I’m not going against his wishes and neither will you. Now pack your bags and get ready. We leave tonight.”

Then before she could protest, the man pushed Dazai out of the small apartment door, the boy looking back at the strange new girl only to watch her eyes flash to his in some sort of unexplainable longing before the door covered the sight.

And call him crazy but it looked like she didn’t want him to go.

How strange, he had never seen that kind of response from someone before. Usually they were glad to be rid of the demon, of the boy that had plagued their life. If anything, Asa should’ve been thankful that the guy that had threatened her just moments ago was leaving.

But somehow she wasn’t, and that intrigued him a lethally dangerous amount.

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

The cold crisp air hit him immediately, the feeling soaking into his bones and yet Dazai couldn’t focus on anything but the closed door just inches from his face. So much so, his fucked up mind started to run in all different directions without permission.

And he’d be lying to say he wasn’t desperate to know what was going on behind Odasaku’s sister's eyes. He wanted to pick at her brain, to pry it open and see for himself the strange puzzle he had just discovered.

He had a lot of toys but she was something different. It made him want to play around with her more often, to see what other interesting and amusing expressions she could make besides the ones tonight.

Feeling his gaze focus more sadistically in thought, the boy suddenly took out his thoughts by his ex friend’s voice, a sense of warning in his tone. “Dazai, don’t even think about it.”

The mafioso then closed his eyes before finally letting go of the thought in order to turn towards Ango innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”

He only glared though, already knowing the naive tone was an act. “Don’t start. I know you better than anyone. You’re thinking about going back in there and manipulating Oda’s sister for something, aren’t you?”

He wasn’t wrong. The boy had wanted something from her, but it was only to figure out more about her. Did that include messing around and being a little underhanded? Well, how else would he do it? That was his signature.

Yet at the sound of Oda’s name, Dazai paused. No, he could decide all that later. Right now he needed answers. “Ango, what’s going on? Odasaku never said anything about having a little sister. How do you know her? Why didn’t he tell me?”

The information felt like a sting, coursing up the boy’s entire throat. He thought Odasaku and him were best friends. He thought they were close, that they knew everything about each other. But now it was obvious that he was keeping secrets this entire time.

But why, what was the reason?

Ango only sighed though, his fingers moving to his glasses in order to push them up. “It’s a long story, Dazai. I’ve actually never met her before. Oda simply put me on the phone once when he was drunk. None of that matters though. You need to forget you’ve ever seen her. No one is supposed to know she exists . She wasn’t ever even supposed to be in Yokohama.”

Pausing, the boy frowned. “Why?”

His old friend then shook his head in order to speak sadly. “Because Oda knew about the kind of people in his life, he knew what they could do to her. That's why he sent her away, so she could be safe. And regardless of what happened between us I still will fulfill his wish. He was my best friend.”

At the sound of his explanation, Dazai couldn’t help but scoff. Best friend? Yeah right, he didn’t have the right to say such a thing anymore. Not after what happened. “Says the man that betrayed us and the port mafia.”

He then watched Ango flitch in order to dip his head in shame. Dazai still hadn’t forgiven him for the betrayal after all. This government official snuck into the port mafia as a spy and he was just supposed to trust everything he said?

No, those bonds were already broken.

Ango then paused before finally speaking again, his fingers balling into a tight fist of emotion. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Dazai. But those nights at Bar Lupin meant something to me. You both meant something to me. That’s why I’m here in the first place. She needs to stay out of this.”

Although that’s when his eyes flicked up in order to lock eyes with the young executive. “And that means she also needs to stay away from you.”

He looked so serious, so odd that Dazai couldn’t help twist his lips into a cruel tight lipped smile. The way Ango was glaring at him, it looked like he was viewing the boy as evil incarnate.

And though he wasn’t wrong, the boy remained silent. What a scary expression.

Noticing his silence, Ango continued. “You asked why Oda never mentioned her to you. It’s because destruction and corruption follows you everywhere, Dazai. He knew how black your soul is and what you could do to her if given the chance. The demon prodigy has no place out of the darkness, and I'm sure you know that also.”

Dazai then felt his lips fall open with understanding, a low pain in his chest as he was hit with the reality. Was that really why Odasaku never mentioned his sister, because he was scared of his best friend destroying her?

Ango mentioned him sending her away in order to be out of reach of the dangerous people. Did that include him also? Was Odasaku scared of the boy, of his twisted personality that much? Dazai didn’t know, and that scared him.

But then again, it made sense.

He was a demon, that fact was very well known.

Perhaps Odasaku was right. If he did get his hands on Asagao then she would surely become tainted and destroyed like everyone else in his life. He was a poison, and his best friend was just trying to keep his little sister from ingesting it.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, the boy then looked up from his unraveling thoughts in order to find Ango’s serious and unwavering stare. “ So I’m telling this now, Dazai. Walk away. Don’t get involved.”

Then the man simply let his hand fall before putting his hand on the doorknob with a sad mutter under his breath. “Let the last piece of Odasaku be untainted, for you and me both.”

Just like that, Ango was gone, leaving Dazai alone in the darkness as it swallowed him whole once more, the familiar black covering his entire silhouette.

And for once, Osamu Dazai didn’t argue with his ex-friends command.

Almost like he knew that he was right, that Odasaku’s sister shouldn’t ever go near him.

----------

Ango felt the bright lights hit his eyes as he made his way into the small apartment in order to squint and walk around the living room with a heavy weighted sigh of exhaustion. This night was far too stressful. Ah well, at least it is over now.

Yet the moment he entered the space, the man was only met with silence, causing his ears to ring with fear. “Asagao?”

Frowning, Ango then moved over to the small table in the corner only to find a tiny yellow sticky note on the surface as the black colored ink mocked him all at once.

Ango, If you wanna bring me back then you gotta catch me first >:D

Crumbling the paper between his fingers, the man then looked up only to find that the fifth story window was open, the sharp breeze stunning him into silence. No, it couldn’t be.

She was gone.

“Asagao!”

-----

Part 2:

Part 3:

(Just an intro to the three part short story I have.)

#bsd dark era #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #fanfic #fanfiction #dazaixodasaku!sister #dazai x fem reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x reader #bsd writing #oda sakunosuke #bsd odasaku #this is the first time I'm writing bsd so be kind #ao3 fanfic

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crypt1dcorv1dae · 3 months ago

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Gonna be honest a big part of why I love zenitsu is cus as a kid I was the same kind of crybaby, and I was extremely anxious and I would end up crying and panicking about the most mundane things, I once had a panic attack when I was little cus I was asked to write my NAME on a SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT, cus I wasn't good at writing and the fear of messing it up sent me into a spiral.

I've had a severe panic disorder my entire life that was, probably incorrectly, diagnosed as just generalized anxiety disorder, to the point that in my teens I was so anxious all the time I barely left my room, I only left long enough to take food back to my room and occasionally bathe, it was bad!!! I had to be medicated because I wasn't living, I was barely surviving, and to this day I still feel intense anxiety all the time I just have a better handle on how I deal with it, it doesn't take my body over by force so much anymore like it used to, at this very moment I wish I was on the floor in the fetal position crying because everything is so scary right now in my life and idk wtf to do!!!! And yeah the anxiety still stops me in my tracks sometimes, and it still greatly affects my life, but it's better than it used to be....

Point is ... I see much of myself in zenitsu, I see how he acts and how he talks about himself and I know exactly how he feels cus I feel exactly the same way!! But ... No matter what, no matter how scary or hard or seemingly impossible it was, he still worked so hard and trained so hard and got so strong even if he can't readily "access" those strengths, and honestly he gets so much stronger and braver throughout the story and... That gives me hope. It really does. It gives me hope that maybe someday I'll be able to get through my issues and mental blocks and become the person I want to be, someone strong and confident and happy, with lots of friends and who actually goes out and participates in the community.

Anyway TLDR he's just like me for real and it makes me care a lot about him and I'm so proud of him and I'll defend him with my life

#zenitsu agatsuma #demon slayer

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letterex-fyofm · 4 months ago

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analysing tskym using laufey's songs pt.1 - Magnolia

Magnolia, she could have anyone in the world Floats around town in a golden gown Born in a castle on a cloud

It's kind of late in my time zone, so this will be a short one!

It was very obvious - even before this panel - that Tadashi admired Tsukki. On their first meeting, Tadashi witnessed how Tsukki was capable of saying whatever he wanted in front of the bullies who had tormented Tadashi. He called them lame, without any hint of fear. It was three versus one, yet Kei didn't hesitate to speak his mind.

Magnolia, prettiest girl that I know Stars in her eyes, handpicked from the skies Beautiful soul

And even after they discovered that Akiteru wasn't Karasuno's ace, Yamaguchi still admired Tsukki. It really shows how, despite Tsukki himself putting all his worth and his brother's on the supposed position Akiteru occupied in Karasuno, Tadashi thought Tsukki's coolness went far beyond that.

It's on the way he talks, and walks and stands. Yamaguchi wanted to be someone like that. And he oh so admired Tsukki - but he also envied him. Deeply.

How can I compete with her? Perfection is the only word I think of when I think of Magnolia

It's very possible that Yamaguchi has insecurities about his appearance. After all that bullying he endured as a kid, it wouldn't really be a surprise for anyone. Tsukki canonically is popular with girls, he receives tons of valentines letters, you get the gist. I don't think Yamaguchi is unpopular, but he definitely doesn't have the same popularity than his best friend.

Even if Tsukki is much more introverted, closed off - he still does better than him. Again, without even really trying.

And Yamaguchi gets it. Really, he gets it. Because he admires and thinks Tsukki is so cool exactly for those reasons. It wouldn't make sense if he got upset because others see the same he sees in Tsukki.

...but, still.

Magnolia, she can move oceans and rivers with ease A word from her lips, her sirens kiss Will send you straight into abyss

A major part of Yamaguchi's character is that he, unlike Hinata, Kageyama, unlike Tsukishima - he doesn't have that same...talent? Innate hability? Whatever it is, he doesn't have it at the start. Kageyama has been training his whole life. Hinata has been diligent for years and for that he has an amazing physique. Tsukki? He has the height and a great game sense.

Despite how much he would like to, Tadashi doesn't have that.

Magnolia, I wish she'd give her secrets away Enchants everyone and I think it'd be fun To be like her someday

And if he doesn't have that, well, it seems that there is no other way out of that other than working hard, right?

That is what makes Tadashi such a great character for me. People often say he is the most realistic, but I honestly think that characters like Tsukki are. Because Tadashi and Tsukki are different sides of the same coin. They both feel inferior. But the way Yamaguchi handles it is much more mature and freaking cool than Tsukki's.

Tsukki gave up. Tadashi didn't. Despite the great disadvantage he had, Tadashi didn't quit. Because he wants to be proud of himself.

And Tsukki...Kei has everything that Tadashi would like to have. He is cool, he is tall, he is hard skinned, he speaks his mind. And yet...and yet...

I do think that, despite how much he loved him, Tadashi had to be resentful of Kei at least for a moment. But not because of envy or jealousy, because Tadashi is the type of person that will work for what he wants.

It's because Tsukki doesn't try - and what used to be such a cool thing becomes lame. Because Tadashi knows that, deep down, Tsukki would like to be better.

That is what is so annoying. That is what is so frustrating. Because Tadashi would like to have those things but guess what? He does not. And who gives a damn? He'll just work and bust his ass until he gets them. That's it.

But Kei has everything, the smarts, the height, the passion...but he stops himself before he gets too carried away.

However, Tadashi trusts Tsukki will make it. It is evident by this panel how much Tadashi knows Tsukki will make it.

...

If anyone were to write tskym angst, I think this way would be great. Imagine being resentful to the person you love?

There's also one part of me that is sure that Tsukki also resented Tadashi simultaneously. I wrote a bit about that in one of my past posts, but I'll explain it better in the next one.

Thanks for reading!

#short i said #it will be short and fun i said #im such a liar and a yapper i'm so sorry #tskym #tsukkiyama #haikyuu #tsukishima kei #yamaguchi tadashi #haikyuu!!#character study

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barelytolerabled · 2 years ago

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Love in the Line of Danger

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer decide to put your security first

Warnings: not so happy ending(?)

WC: 0.9

You sat on the couch in Spencer’s apartment, staring at him with tears in your eyes. He sat across from you, looking just as heartbroken.

"I can't keep doing this," he said, his voice low and full of sadness. "My job is too dangerous, and I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you because of me again."

You knew he was right. As an FBI agent, Spencer's work was incredibly dangerous, and he had been involved in some close calls recently. You had tried to be supportive, but it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the constant worry and fear that came with being in a relationship with someone in such a dangerous line of work too.

"I know," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I just... I don't know what to do."

Spencer took your hand in his, squeezing it gently. "I think we should probably break up," he said softly.

Your heart shattered at his words, but you knew he was right. You couldn't keep putting yourself in danger like this, you couldn't bear the thought of something happening to him and it was the same for him.

As the days passed, you tried to move on. You threw yourself into work and spent time with friends, but you couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that came with losing Spencer.

One night, you found yourself at a bar, nursing a drink and lost in thought. You closed your eyes, letting the music wash over you, when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turned, expecting to see one of your friends, but instead you saw Spencer standing behind you. You froze, unable to believe your eyes.

"I couldn't stay away," he said, his voice low and full of emotion.

You stood up, facing him fully. "What are you doing here?" you asked, unable to hide the hope in your voice.

Spencer took your hand, leading you outside. As you walked, he explained that he had been unable to stop thinking about you, and that he couldn't bear the thought of living without you.

"I know my job is dangerous," he said, his voice full of regret. "But I can't let that stop us from being together."

You looked at him, seeing the determination in his eyes. "Spencer, I don't know if I can handle the constant worry and fear that comes with being in a relationship with someone in such a dangerous line of work," you said honestly.

"I understand," he replied, his voice soft. "But I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. And if that means leaving the FBI, then I will do it."

You looked at him, feeling a mix of love and fear. You knew that being with Spencer would mean constantly living with the possibility of danger and loss, but you also knew that you couldn't imagine your life without him.

"I just wish you could take me back to the night we met," you said finally, echoing the words you had spoken to him the night you had broken up.

Spencer smiled sadly, taking your hand and leading you in a park. He had recreated the night you met, complete with your favorite songs playing in the background and your favorite drinks in hand.

As you danced in his arms, you knew it was time to say goodbye. You couldn't keep living in the past, and you couldn't keep risking your life for a love that was too dangerous.

But in that moment, as you looked into Spencer's eyes, you knew that your love for him would never truly die. And maybe, someday, when the danger had passed, you could find your way back to each other once again.

As you danced with Spencer, tears streamed down your face. You couldn't believe that this was the last time you would be with him like this. His arms around you felt so familiar, so comforting, and yet you knew that you had to let go.

"I love you," he whispered, his lips close to your ear.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his breath against your skin. "I love you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the song ended, Spencer took your hand and led further in the park. You walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound the click of your heels on the pavement.

"I'll never forget the night we met," Spencer said finally, breaking the silence. "I was so nervous, so awkward. And then I saw you, and everything just clicked."

You smiled at the memory, remembering how you had caught his eye across the crowded bar. You had felt a connection immediately, and it had only grown stronger as the night had gone on.

"I knew that I wanted to be with you from that moment on," Spencer continued, his voice soft. "And I still do. But I can't keep putting you in danger. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you because of me."

You nodded, understanding. "I know. And I can't keep living in fear, wondering if every time you leave for work will be the last time I see you."

Spencer took your hand in his, his fingers interlocking with yours. "I'll always love you, Y/N," he said, his voice full of emotion. "No matter what happens, I'll never forget the love we shared."

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'll never forget it either," you whispered, your voice thick with tears. "But we have to let each other go."

Spencer pulled away, looking at you with a sad smile. "Goodbye, Y/N," he said softly, before turning and walking away.

As you watched him go, you knew that it was the right decision. But your heart still ached with the pain of losing the man you loved.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid one shot

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sweetfirebird · 2 years ago

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screams

Jerry nodded without raising his head. “It’s not like there’s a manual.”

“How could there be? It’s always different for everyone.” Lincoln’s voice had a rasp to it. Ice clinked against his glass as he had another drink. “Obviously, I can’t speak for every gay man out there. But… would you like some basic rules—no, guidelines? No—concepts? Concepts is better. That is, if you said what you said because you were thinking of trying to date.”

Jerry reached for his wine, still not noticing anything about it except that it tasted better than church wine. “Okay,” he agreed cautiously after putting down the glass.

“First, I suppose, would be to know what you want enough to go after it.” Lincoln’s voice was faintly hoarse. “For some, that’s apps or bars, and that is all perfectly fine, even if it’s not for you personally. But you have to be willing to pursue something, and to do that you have to show you’re interested.”

Jerry focused on the food although he was listening to every word.

“There are lots of ways to make that clear.” Lincoln was quiet. “For example, you could be a flirty, forward, brutish thing, like me.” When Jerry didn’t say anything there, Lincoln cleared his throat and went on. “See if you get a response and then stop when you don’t.”

Jerry protested softly. “You’re not brutish.”

He wondered if Lincoln shrugged or waved that away. “Sometimes it feels as if I am when I’m around someone fragile and pretty. Well, someone who looks fragile and is pretty.”

It was on the tip of Jerry’s tongue to ask about Kevin, if that was Lincoln’s type, but he drowned the words in wine. “You’re not brutish,” he said again instead. “You’ve never made me uncomfortable, although I’m not fragile. Or… or pretty.”

Lincoln was silent for another few moments. Then he swallowed, possibly more wine, before speaking again. “But you might be wondering, what if you aren’t a flirty, forward thing? What is a girl to do if making eyes across a crowded bakery isn’t her style?”

Jerry had to take a second to decipher that. He watched the butter melting in the pan. “I don’t know,” he admitted at last. “Be close to the person? Talk to them? Help them, if you can?”

“Help them?” Lincoln echoed. “Ah. Help them. As in, say, fixing things for them?”

Jerry poured the eggs into the pan then went to the sink to rinse the bowl. He kept his back to Lincoln. “Yes. If that’s something you can do.” His stomach was a knot of nerves but alcohol in his blood made him slow. He stayed where he was and let Lincoln study the tense line of him.

“That’s good. That’s very good. But that sort of gesture is also easily confused with friendship.” Just the sound of Lincoln’s voice was enough to make Jerry flush. “Which is perfectly fine,” Lincoln was quick to add. “Unless that’s not what you were hoping to convey.”

Friendship was all Jerry had hoped for. Everything else was uncharted. He was supposed to grate the cheese over the eggs but he just stood there. “So what do I do?”

He was breathless. A grown man shouldn’t be breathless over this.

“Hmm,” Lincoln said again, but playful and warm and—Jerry hoped he wasn’t imagining—relieved. “Invite them into your personal space? That’s always a good start.”

Jerry’s mouth went dry. Some of it was fear. Most of it wasn’t.

“Lincoln.” He didn’t look over. “I think I’ve had too much. I don’t think I can deal with the grater by myself right now.” He honestly didn’t. His limbs were heavy and his hands weren’t steady.

Lincoln was suddenly there at his back, hot without even touching him. “I’ve got you.”

Jericho Candelario's Gay Debut

contemporary m/m romance novella

Jerry Candelario has spent his entire life focused on raising his siblings and his young niece. But everyone has grown up or moved out. Now that Jerry’s evenings are free, all he wants to do is spend them with his friend Lincoln. Jerry knows nothing about gay culture, or dating, or being in love. With Lincoln, he wants to try, but is he making a fool of himself, or is his someday finally here?

Reminder that Jericho Candelario's Gay Debut is Free/Reader Sets the Price on Smashwords *always*

#jericho candelario's gay debut #r. cooper #love is stored in the omelet

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alexthefly · 2 years ago

Note

WIP Ask Memre:

Parker Gets Sidelined

Hi! Thankyou so much for the ask! (And thankyou to @tikatu and @myladykayo , who also requested this one.)

This one-shot is a response to @tracybirds One Prompt Challenge , although I haven't actually gotten to the prompt bit yet. (I swear, I 100% intend to finish it... someday...) As it stands though, it's still very fragmented and piecemeal.

That said, here's a little snippet:

Lady Penelope is away on a very special solo mission, and so poor Parker is left alone with only his thoughts - and a concerned Alan - for company...

“She’ll be alright, Parker.”

Mister Alan's words broke through his thoughts like a cricket ball through glass, sending unwelcome splinters of worry shooting into his heart.

“Well of course she’ll be alright! Soft lad. Why on earth would you think she wouldn’t be alright?”

Methinks the chauffeur doth protest too much.

Because that was the fear, wasn’t it? Her Ladyship was as fierce and as strong as any woman - any person - he’d ever met, but you never knew, did you? These things happened, after all…

He brushed the thought off with a shake of his head. Of course she’d be alright! As if her Ladyship would tolerate anything less. Honestly, if she were here right now she'd give him what-for and no mistake. He could hear her in his head now: “Do stop worrying and try to get on with something useful, would you Parker?”

“She’ll be fine,” he said again, ignoring the slight croak in his voice. “Right as rain. You mark my words.” The wind whistled through the alleyway, calling him out.

…God, he wanted a cigarette. Of course, Her Ladyship had put a stop to all that almost as soon as she’d met him.

Or at least she thought she had. The Grey Ninja still had a few secrets.

The day she discovered all of FAB1’s secret hidey-holes was the day he’d finally retire.

He shuddered at the very thought. Not needed anymore. Perhaps he would take up golf instead. He shuddered again.

Of course, she didn’t really need his protection any more now; hadn’t for a long time. Plenty’s the time she’d been the one to save him from disaster, be that from violent gangsters or the wrong side of Lil’s sharp tongue, but even so…

Back in the beginning, when she was a young slip of a thing and he was only just removed from that old, dirty life of his, he’d felt deeply - viscerally - the enormous responsibility he’d been given by His Lordship; guardianship of his most precious treasure. Anything even slightly untoward happened, and he was to protect her no matter what; that was the deal.

He turned his collar up at the chill that chose that moment to creep up his back.

If he really couldn’t be beside her during this, perhaps her most perilous mission to date, then he would just have to make do with being as close as he could. Cold weather be damned.

Because he felt the weight of it even now, deep in his marrow.

The promise he'd made.

No. Matter. What.

#wip ask game #alex answers #aloysius parker #thunderbirds are go fanfic #thunderbirds are go #alexthefly fic

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unseelie-robynx · 2 years ago

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What’s Iron Fan’s relationship with Macaque like in the Tyrant Prince au? Because we know Wukong just wants to make Iron Fan forget about Red Son but I’m curious on how her relationship is like with Macaque because they have also been living under Wukong’s roof for some time.

So this relationship is interesting actually. Because there are two very distinct versions of it.

There's the version where PIF has had her memories of Red Son scrubbed out, and then lost her husband and she's had already been in a feedback loop of heartbreak and pain from Red Son being lost and losing DBK almost actually made things *better* because she at least had a reason to feel like her heart had been carved out. She was taken to FFM to live with SWK, as a way to heal and get over what happened (and because SWK felt so guilty, but DBK was almost gone with grief and rage at that point and it needed to happen). But that version of her is... quiet. She doesn't speak at all except to some of the baby monkeys, and the grief all but permeates off of her at all times.

That means, for her and Macaque, it's a sort of quiet companionship. I kind of went with the headcanon (And @vegalocity didn't stop me) that Princess Iron Fan and Macaque were closer than him and DBK, more of the fandom interpretation that she was kind of an (older?) sister to Macaque, where as DBK was more SWK's sworn brother instead. Subtly, but that would be the basis for that relationship.

So Macaque tries his best to help, but unlike SWK who expects PIF to eventually start to get better, (and side note, SWK doesn't expect PIF to forget about Red Son, he's actually been trying to get them to 'reconnect' because he assumes she disowned her son and that that's what all the 'I don't have any children' stuff she's said is about. Not that she's had her memory scrubbed and honestly belives she doesn't have any children), Macaque knows better, and knows that PIF had her memories gutted and so she can't 'get better'.

He worries about her, and he sometimes fears she might try to 'rejoin' DBK more permanently (which, MACAQUE knows that DBK is alive and in the rebellion, but he can't say anything, so it becomes extra stressful, as if it wasn't already) and he tries his best to take care of her and help her be at least a little ok, but the whole thing is a bit of a mass of pain.

But THEN our Tyrant Prince gets it into his head that maybe his perfect Wife who now has a*perfect baby sister to dote on (in the form of Shuyin, the cultist girl that Xiaojiao picks up that Vegalocity talks about a bit in THIS POST), deserves a perfect mama as well.

So this 'Mama', is sweet and simpering, overly doting on her 'babies', always knew that Red was an airheaded idiot (who was 'cursed' with a temper that needed to be cut out) and that both of her children had been given to her by a 'god' and that someday they were both meant to be owned by gods and to be given back to them.

In short, her personality is *yanked in the opposite direction, and while some of the real Princess Iron Fan comes out, she's now fully on board with Xiaotain and his plans, because she's been brainwashed to see him as a god, and to obey him without question.

Which means Macaque has lost yet another person that he cares about to Xiaotian's machination, and his home on FFM is even less safe. Because while SWK is only somewhat brainwashed and Macaque has to be carful to 'follow the script' around him, PIF is now completely brainwashed, and Xiaotian actually makes use of her to get Macaque out of the way for several important things. (Such as forcing SWK to tell him where some old stolen fruits are hidden away)

So Macauqe's new relationship with her is essentially one of heartbreak and distrust. Because he's lost his bond-sister, and not only that he now has to be so careful around her. Because she can use the winds and potentially learn things he doesn't want anyone to know with them, and so he doesn't get even a moment's reprieve anymore.

Which leads to bitterness.

Obviously, Macaque knows it's not PIF's fault, and that she's not willingly serving the Tyrant Prince, but the fact is she is and that's hard.

In the new dynamic, Macaque is bitter and on edge and heartbroken and guilty that he couldn't do more, but there really wasn't anything he could have done, because he hadn't realized what was happening or that Xiaotian had plans for PIF before it was too late.

Which, of course, is another thing he blames himself for

#lmk #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #oblivion series #tyrant prince au #lmk princess iron fan #lmk six eared macaque #lmk macaque #rob responds

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blackbird-brewster · 2 years ago

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3 5 and 18 for the fic asks!! :)

Thanks for the ask! [Send me author asks]

3. What’s your favourite fic that you’ve written?

Oh god, what a difficult question!!! I've written nearly 140 fics in the years I've been active. I'm cheating and gonna list a a couple that I adore with all my heart (and I'm very proud of!)

Criminal Minds, JJ/Tara/Emily, SERIES

I'm never going to stop banging my pots and pans together to hype this fic series. A queer rom-com AU that explores coming out, neurodivergence, found family, and of course, healthy polyamory. What more could you want in a fic?!

Criminal Minds, JJ/Tara, WC: 72,523

Even if you don't ship JJ/Tara, this fic is SOOOOO good. I went a bit experimental and used flashbacks as narrative in each chapter and it just weaves such an incredible story. Anytime I re-read this fic I say, "Holy shit?!?! I wrote this?!" Honestly, even if it's not your ship, read it because it's a masterpiece.

5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?

[Answered Here] But of course I have more than one idea that will probably never actually get written! I have always toyed with the idea of writing a 'Sliding Doors' type of fic. Where the two main characters (probably JJ/Emily) come to a point where they have an important choice to make (Maybe it's Emily deciding whether or not to got o London) and the fic splits off from there. One half of the fic is her going to London, the other is her staying. It's an ambitious idea that would require meticulous planning, but I would LOVE to write it someday

18. What’s one of your favourite lines you’ve written in a fic?

I have to say, my use of metaphors is top-tier. Sometimes I write the most gut-wrenching lines and look at them like 'Who the fuck wrote this!?'. Here are five lines/paragraphs that have always stuck with me:

From [Between You & Me]:

"She and JJ kissed once, just once, when they were drunk and lost in the moment, but in that one chaste kiss, Emily felt the incredible amount of emotion that was cresting in tidal waves behind her lips, just waiting for her to lose enough self-restraint that it would be impossible for her to prevent all the 'I love yous', that had been trapped in her throat, from breaking free from their silent confinement to come spilling out until they drowned her in the process. This feeling, this stark understanding of what would happen if they ever let it go any further than one kiss was what made Emily pull away at the time, even though she often wondered if JJ would have let her keep going if she hadn’t."

From [i can't be wrong (to be craving you)]:

"If hope is a thing with feathers that perches in the soul, it suddenly feels like the immensity of her fear is ready to pluck hope bare, strip it back, press a boot to its raw and naked form and spit on the entire idea of it, and she knows it would be so incredibly effortless for her to let go, to just give into that desolate feeling."

From [Mercy]:

“You’re parts!” JJ yelled from behind, as she approached Emily.

Emily spun around when she heard JJ’s voice, she was exhausted and really just wanted to get home. She shook her head at JJ, “What?”

JJ had closed the distance now, she came to rest just a foot way from Emily. “You’re right. You’re right that there are parts of this job I can’t take home. You’re parts. You have always been the part of my job that I couldn’t take home, Emily. Or rather, you have always been the part of my job that I was too afraid to take home.”

From [Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) - Part 1]:

Penelope poked their head out of their office when they heard the commotion, “What’s happening out here?”

“Derek pulled all of his muscles because, from what I can deduce, he probably underestimated this Emily person since she’s a woman and she seemed to have torn him asunder,” Tara reported as she sipped her coffee.

From [Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) - Part 2]:

JJ stepped so she was only a foot from Tara. She stared up at the taller woman. “I said… YOU are being a Piglet right now.”

“What does that even mean?” Tara huffed.

“Chapter five, Piglet goes to check the heffalump trap. And he hears the sad sounds of Pooh, but he doesn’t know it’s Pooh, and Piglet gets scared then runs away. Piglet convinced himself the awful noise had to be a Heffalump because he just didn’t stop long enough to look. He had built up this horrifying idea of what Heffalumps looked and sounded like, so Piglet convinced himself a Heffalump was the only explanation for what he briefly saw. He ran away without pausing to really look. But if he HAD looked closely, he would have see that the monster in the trap was actually his good friend Pooh, with a pot on his head. He would have seen it was his friend that needed his help. Piglet ran away because his own self-deception told him he had caught a Heffalump!" JJ stepped closer so they were very nearly pressed into each other. “I’m saying don’t convince yourself something is a Heffalump before you even take time to examine it. Maybe, the big scary Heffalump you’ve concocted in your head is actually your good friend, who cares for you deeply. Your good friend who needs you. Your good friend who wants you. Your good friend who desires nothing more than for you to stop running.”

#cicinicole-14 #reply post #my writing #fic ask game

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mae-dwrites · 2 years ago

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Taking Flight - Chapter 9 - Come Again

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| Ao3 | Wattpad |

“Chloé please just talk it out with your mother! I'm sure you two could come to an understanding,” André pleaded following his daughter who had just arrived from school.

“No, I refuse to talk to that la putain!” Chloé’s face was already slowly becoming heated.

Honestly, her father should have gotten the memo at this point. She did not want to talk to her mother. Why would she? The woman had never been around, didn’t raise her, nothing. Hell, her father may have done better but there wasn’t much to beat really.

“Chloé Aristo Bourgeois! You will stop speaking about your mother in such ways at once!” André shouted behind Chloé.

“I can’t believe this,” Chloé turned around to her father. “Now you want to discipline me?”

The laugh that came out of Chloé made André take a step back. The guests couldn’t help but look over now. Many of these people had been coming and going from this hotel for years now and had even watched Chloé grow up. It was quite the show to many of them, but this would be the moment they’d waited for.

“You have not once tried to be a real dad for me, not once! But now that mom suddenly loves you again I have to be the one to play nice to keep her here? If you haven’t already figured it out she hates me. Her daughter! She’s supposed to love me by the rules of nature but she can’t stand me. Half the time she doesn’t even remember my name!” Chloé shouted, waving her arms as she made her way to her father.

“Yeah maybe you were here and yeah you made some effort. But it was still the bare minimum! Because all that really mattered was your stupid campaigns to become mayor, your stupid hotel needed to be perfect, just so you ensure that she wouldn’t pull a divorce!” Chloé looked her father up and down. She may be trying to be better but it didn’t mean it would happen overnight, especially not for her parents. No, this was for her.

Her mother could stay in New York, her father could focus on his oh-so-important big man offices. Someday these empires would fall to her and she would run them better. On the day they croaked she’d be more powerful having control of Style Queen Ind. and this Hotel would benefit her in the perfect home base. She didn’t need to be close to them, it was publicly expected for it all to go to her that they practically had no choice in the matter.

“Chloé you don’t understand,” André started but Chloé wasn’t going to let him change the narrative. He knew exactly how to, Chloé had seen it and he wasn’t going to do it to her. Not again.

“Maybe I don’t understand,” Chloé hissed. “But you have never tried to explain. You have never tried to be a real dad, so I certainly wouldn’t try now. You may be my father, but you have never been my dad.” With her head raised high, a position practiced so much, perfected so. It was only natural for her to make the movement, to look down on those who wrong her, to look down on those who so much as annoyed her. And the looks of fear and clear anxiety filling the one subjected to the look was a beautiful sight, it hadn’t always been but over time she had grown to love the fear the wreaked.

But André wasn’t as cowardly as he let others think, he wasn’t as much the baffoon he liked to show. Instead he stared his daughter down in challenge, because what kind of man would he be if he let his daughter think he was really scared of her?

“Chloé you will call your mother and apologize at once, and beg her to return home.” His voice suddenly low in an aggression not one of his guests had ever heard. It was the very same voice he had when he became Maledikator last month.

But it was the voice Chloé had heard his father use in meetings, the voice he used when he had talked to Mlle. Bustier about never saying no to Chloé, the voice he used on those she deemed had wronged her. This was a voice the public had never heard, nor one Chloé knew her father would allow them any time soon.

When she was little he had used this voice in his drunken state at her, then she feared it. She still did now, but this side would not rule her. When she decided to tell Audrey the equivalent of “fuck off” a bit of that was for her father two. In what way specifically she never really figured out. But obviously nothing she said truly got through her father’s thick skull.

“No, I don’t think I will,” Chloé said, a bored look coming back to her face. She left the lobby with her father yelling at her, berating her even.

That did not matter, she was paving her way finally.

-•-

Bridget tapped the pen on the notepad, she would throw away what she wrote after she finally wrote up the report. She had arrived in Paris last week and had yet to write a report, yesterday her laptop pinged at Donna was currently active in the system. Meaning she could possibly call her.

Bridget rubbed her forehead, Makzenie was down the hall and didn’t want to deal with the young teen overhearing her. She seemed to be a light sleeper, she couldn’t blame the kid. Bridget had met others like her, in similar boats in Gotham, New York, California, and so many other places while out on missions. Though most of her jobs were in the U.S. or China, she was sure her leading officer was not only jealous of her work with Diana but was…prejudice to put it lightly.

Bridget sighed and tossed the pen and pad on the desk in her room. It would just be best to call Donna to inform her, she would be able to get in contact with Diana. And while she did that Bridget would get the last thing she needed to contact Huang, a spell he had made especially so she could contact him when needed. While he avoided the JL or JLI, as he didn’t want to be a consultant to the group. He refused to even consider being a consultant, let alone a member of Justice League Dark, despite Bridget's constant begging for him to.

Huang was gifted in Bridget’s opinion, Huang glared at her every time she described him as such.

“It took dedication and years for me to get to this level, and I wasn’t even born to be a magic user.” Huang had once snapped at her.

Bridget let out a soft chuckle to herself as she got onto the JL system. It would be fun to mess with him when he was around.

Donna Troy - Status: Active - Access: Level 8 - Current Alias: Wonder Woman - Current Reach: At Watchtower

Good. Bridget sent a message for Donna to tell her when she was available.

Donna Troy: I am able to now if you are.

Bridget smiled at the quick message before saying she was.

“Hello BC,” Donna greeted.

“Hey,” Bridget said more casually. Donna fought a smile, Bridget couldn’t help but grin. Donna always failed to stay serious when Bridget was part of a meeting.

“So what was so important that you need me to get in contact with Diana for you?” The Amazonian asked. She was quite curious as to what exactly was going on, she knew that Diana had sent Bridget to check in on Paris. Diana had told her she had a feeling she had left the city right before something made itself known, but this feeling had only started up recently.

“Have you ever heard of Miraculous?” Bridget asked, her notepad at the ready. Donna tensed before allowing herself to relax. Bridget raised her eyebrows, “You do.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Donna felt a sliver of pride for a moment. How Bridget could be easy-going and friendly with everyone before going serious mode had been something she admired. According to her friend it was just something her family could do, not like a switch but mostly.

“They’re magical jewels, with little god creatures that grant the wearer powers based on what concept the god encompasses. They have a few main powers that every wielder of the jewels gets or can use, but everyone can develop their own powers. Hippolyta was one of the frist weilders of the Ladybug Miraculous.” Donna explained, “I don’t know much more than that. Diana does know more, and with her at Themyscira I’m sure she can get more information about the Miraculous from her. I will send a message and will await her response.”

“Thank you,” Bridget smiled at her friend. Donna smiled back before giving a warning, “Of course. And be careful, the Miraculous can be far more dangerous than you can imagine.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you for the concern,” Bridget said with a wave. Bridget slumped in her chair after she ended the call.

Children were running around in tight magical suits that could essentially destroy the world, possibly the Universe.

“Wonderful,” Bridget muttered into the dark of her room.

#maribat #maribat fic #maribat fanfic #taking flight #bridget cheng #chloe redemption #maribat chloe #maribat donna troy

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 2 months ago

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hiiii back with more can you also do platonic yandere Scott summers x reader

LITTLE PEBBLE

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader. (Platonic Fic)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ He found a little pebble, a trace of something that burned as intensely as she did. His desire to protect her had grown beyond reason. She was his only family now, a fire he needed to contain. But in his hands, even the pebble could ignite.

warnings ⸺ mdni! Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, fire, kidnapping, delusion, Angst, murdering, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation. The reader is a teenager (17-18). Reader is like Flame Princess (AT), Human Torch (4F) etc.

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is— Honestly, I didn't have much idea on how to tackle this request at first because I was a bit lacking in inspiration. But then I got some good news, and while watching my favorite animated series, the idea of the fire mutation came to me. I hope it doesn't bother you; since you didn't ask for anything specific, unlike a previous request where someone wanted a mutation similar to Raven's, I decided to take a bit of creative freedom. I hope you like it!

Yandere Scott Summers who… worried upon seeing you that uneven night, just when he needed to calm his mind. Sometimes the stress of being the leader of the X-Men and the weight of protecting his friends became too much. The simple idea of going for a walk soothed him, but in that moment everything changed. He saw you walking alone under the dark sky, with an ignited fury in your eyes and that fiery orange and red hair. He watched you in silence, and something in you resonated with him. He couldn’t help the need to protect you, even though he barely knew you.

Yandere Scott Summers who… against his own instincts, decided to approach when he saw you on the road. You had dropped your backpack and upon seeing him, your expression hardened, and the air around you turned hot. The fire emerged from you, threatening to consume everything in an instant. And yet, he didn’t move. He observed the intensity with a disturbing fascination, as if in that blazing heat he found something only he could understand. It was the rain that intervened and made you retreat, temporarily extinguishing the flames and giving him the chance to extend a hand, gentle yet firm. “You can trust me. I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, not really expecting you to accept. But it was enough for you to lower your guard, if only for a moment.

Yandere Scott Summers who… took you to the X-Men mansion, aware that your stay could cause problems. However, he didn’t care. He was determined to help you find the peace he saw hidden beneath your fiery exterior. He knew you were dangerous, that you could cause a disaster at any moment, but he was convinced that you could be more, that you were not just a threat. So he took full responsibility for you in front of Professor X and the others, promising to take care of you.

Yandere Scott Summers who… even when you were hostile and avoided everyone, continued to visit you in the infirmary. He brought small colorful flowers every day, even though he knew you would burn them as soon as he handed them to you. He watched with a mix of pain and adoration as you destroyed those flowers without hesitation, as if in doing so you released a part of yourself. Yet, he never stopped bringing you a new one each morning. He saw beauty in your rage and discomfort, and deep in his mind, he wished that someday you would accept his company without fear.

Yandere Scott Summers who… slowly took you out of the infirmary, earning your trust with infinite patience. He showed you the gardens, knowing that you might burn a plant, but he didn’t judge you for it. Instead of worrying, he felt a deep devotion seeing you hesitate and hold back. He knew you were struggling, not just against your own power, but against the feeling that perhaps you would never fit in there. Scott admired that struggle in you, and every time he saw you silently looking at the horizon, feeling like you didn’t belong, his urge to protect you intensified even more.

Yandere Scott Summers who… stayed with you when you thought no one was watching, as you quietly questioned why the world saw you only as a threat. He listened to everything, and although his words were often few, each one was filled with unwavering devotion. “You are more than you think,” he told you, and although you found it hard to accept, his words lingered in your mind.

Yandere Scott Summers who… cannot stand seeing you isolated, burning small branches or flowers at the edges of the garden to release tension. He knows it’s a part of you that no one else understands, but he does. And every spark, every little flame is, for him, proof of your strength. For him, those moments are a confirmation that, no matter what happens, his purpose is to protect you, care for you, and ensure that you never have to defend yourself alone again.

Yandere Scott Summers who… accompanied you every day at lunchtime, making sure you were comfortable and had something you could eat without burning yourself. He knew your emotions could spiral out of control at any moment and, with them, your blazing heat. So he prepared, offering you small bites patiently, pulling his hands away when he saw the flames intensifying on your fingers and returning to try again just seconds later. “You don’t have to worry; I’ll take care of this,” he told you, with a firm yet gentle look. He knew he wasn’t just giving you food; he was giving you a reason to trust him and only him.

Yandere Scott Summers who… spent countless nights making sure you didn’t destroy your room. He stayed awake outside your door, watching every spark, every fire that broke out. He had filled your room with special materials resistant to heat, and he himself set up a suppression system to prevent the fire from spreading too far. However, it was him you turned to when you couldn’t take it anymore and the flames escaped your control. He held you while your energy overflowed, not telling anyone that his own hands suffered small burns each time. “I’m here,” he whispered, holding you with protective firmness. “I won’t leave you. Never.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… gradually began to treat you as if you were his only family, beyond the X-Men and beyond any mission or duty. His teammates began to notice, especially Jean and Logan, who reminded him that he needed distance, but he ignored them. For him, protecting you was his most important mission. Even if it meant putting aside his other responsibilities, he didn’t care. He was willing to put anyone aside to dedicate every second of his time to you, convinced that no one could take care of you as well as he could. Jean tried to confront him: “Scott, you need to set boundaries. You’re losing your balance…” But he looked at her, with a coldness in his eyes that even she didn’t recognize. “Jean, no one else understands. She needs me more than you think.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… took you to quiet places, away from the gazes of others. Sometimes he convinced you to stroll through the woods, places where he allowed you to release some of your fire without worries. He silently watched as you burned branches or weeds, and he stayed close, making sure there was no danger, that no one else was around to judge you. In those moments, he would come closer and speak to you softly. “Here you can be yourself. You don’t need to hold back.” And although you didn’t always respond to him, he knew you understood, and those small flashes of connection were enough for him.

Yandere Scott Summers who… could barely contain his emotion when he saw you in action on your first mission. He had spent months preparing you, training you in controlling your powers, and finally the day came when everyone would see what he already knew: that you were incredibly powerful and deserving of respect. He watched you from afar, hidden behind his visor, seeing how you handled your flames with precision and poise, confronting enemies without hesitation. Every movement of yours filled him with pride, and when the mission ended, he ran to your side, smiling in a way that was unusual for him. “You did amazing! you’re perfect,” he whispered, keeping his hand on your shoulder and almost ignoring everyone else, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

Yandere Scott Summers who… immediately felt a pang of jealousy when Jean, Logan, and Ororo also came over to congratulate you. Ororo gave you a warm smile, telling you how impressive it was to see your control and skill, while Jean took your hands and told you that you were progressing quickly, with Logan looking at you with respect, something that wasn’t common for him. Scott tensed, his hands clenching into fists as he watched them praise you. He knew they were just acknowledging you, but seeing others give you their attention in such a close and personal way drove him irrational. Jean shot him a knowing look, but Scott avoided her gaze, murmuring, “They can leave her alone; she’s exhausted. She doesn’t need your approval.” He couldn’t help his voice from turning cold. To him, there was no one more suited to accompany you than himself.

Yandere Scott Summers who… silently went mad upon learning that you had had your first sleepover with Jubilee, Kitty, and other young X-Men without him. He had wanted to be part of everything in your life, but the girls had kept him at bay. They knew he could overprotect you to an uncomfortable point and wanted to give you a normal experience, without Scott hovering over you every second. Even more, they wanted to avoid you getting upset and bursting into flames. He spent the night wandering the hallway outside your room, hearing muffled laughter and feeling a deep frustration. He wanted to go in, make sure you were okay, and that no one affected you, but he held back, teeth clenched. To him, there was no reason he shouldn’t be part of everything you did. After all, only he understood the importance of being by your side at every moment.

Yandere Scott Summers who… lost his patience when he found out you had gone to the arcade with Jubilee and other young X-Men. He was in the middle of a meeting when he heard the news, and without thinking twice, he left everything to go look for you. Logan was the one who blocked his way, standing in front of the door with his characteristic disdain. “Let her be, Summers. She needs her space,” Logan murmured with a mocking tone, giving him a challenging look. “Do you know what could happen if something goes wrong?!” Scott replied, his eyes fixed on Logan, unable to comprehend why anyone else thought they had the right to decide about you. Logan shook his head, his patience wearing thin: “What could happen is that she learns to live without you glued to her like a leech.” Scott felt a mix of anger and vulnerability that baffled him, but ultimately, he took a step back. However, he spent the rest of the night restless, only thinking about you, about how happy you could be without him there to take care of every detail.

Yandere Scott Summers who… secretly suffered as he watched you start to get along with the other X-Men. As your control over your powers improved, you became more confident and integrated into the community, talking and laughing with others, sharing moments you had only shared with him before. There was one student in particular, Sam Guthrie, also known as Cannonball, who sent you notes and letters expressing his admiration. He gave you small shiny stones he found, telling you they reminded him of the color of your eyes when you were calm. Scott found those details, and every time he saw one of those stones, he felt a wave of irrational anger. One afternoon, he approached you with tense calmness. “You don’t need his gifts; you know I’m here to give you everything you need,” he murmured, his gaze dark while holding the stone in his hands. He didn’t want to admit he was jealous, but his words and the rigidity in his face told you everything.

Yandere Scott Summers who… lost control when you told him you were considering going to Genosha with Sam and other young mutants. It was a decision driven by your desire to explore and experience life away from the mansion, and besides, Sam had insisted on accompanying you, assuring you that you would be safe with him. The night you mentioned it to Scott, he simply exploded. “Genosha? With Sam?!” he shouted, with an intensity you had never seen in him before. His face was marked by a mix of disbelief and desperation. “Do you think someone like him can protect you? That you can trust someone who barely knows your true needs?” he said. “Scott, you can’t control everything I do,” you replied, trying to remain calm, although his reaction made you doubt. “You don’t understand!” he continued, raising his voice. “Do you think anyone else will be willing to do what I do for you? I’m the only one who truly understands how dangerous you are and what you need to be okay!” His words hurt you, but they also revealed the intensity of his feelings, leading you to see a side of him you hadn’t noticed before. In his desperation, he had lost sight of your own autonomy, and for a moment, you realized that Scott was not willing to let you go.

Yandere Scott Summers who… felt his world collapse when he understood that your desire for independence could separate you. The idea of losing you, of someone else being your protector and making you feel safe, consumed him. So, in a moment of desperation, he made a drastic decision. He decided that the best thing was to remove you from everyone, even from yourself, so that you would never feel the need to seek the company of others.

Yandere Scott Summers who… prepared a chilling plan. On a dark night, he set fire to part of the mansion. Screams, sirens, and smoke filled the air, and as everyone else struggled to escape, he approached you and took your hand. “We have to go, quickly, now” he said, his voice intense and urgent.

Yandere Scott Summers who… upon reaching the exit, a twist of fate changed everything. With a simple gesture, he made everyone believe you had died in the fire. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for your “sake.” The shock, the despair of the others, was a spectacle he watched from a distance, his heart pounding as he made sure no one suspected his role in all this.

Yandere Scott Summers who… took you to an isolated house in the woods, away from the mansion and any other X-Men who might look for you. There, he placed a collar on you that inhibited your powers. He knew that without it, you could hurt yourself or damage anything around you. “It’s for your safety,” he said, looking at you with a mix of tenderness and madness in his eyes. “I’ll never hurt you again, and no one will be able to. Here, you are safe.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… began to treat you like a child, controlling every aspect of your life. He fed you by hand, offering you small portions of food he prepared carefully, making sure everything was to his liking. “You have to eat to stay strong,” he repeated, watching you chew slowly; after all, you couldn’t refuse him, or you would regret it. He delighted in every bite you gave him the chance to offer, watching how you got used to his care.

Yandere Scott Summers who… chose your clothes with unsettling precision. He made sure they were comfortable yet modest, reflecting the image he wanted you to project. Everything, from colors to styles, was carefully planned to keep you within the limits he had set. “You don’t need to worry about anything else,” he insisted while dressing you. “Here, all that matters is you and me.” The house became your gilded prison, a place where everything seemed comfortable but was nothing more than a trap. The windows were sealed, and every time you tried to leave, he stopped you with a cold look. “You don’t understand the danger out there,” he repeated, increasingly anxious, as if every word was a warning. “I can’t let you go.”

Yandere Scott Summers who… spent hours with you, playing board games, reading books, doing anything that reminded him of a warm home, and always, always, watching you. However, every time you tried to ask a question about your previous life, his gaze would darken. “Let’s not talk about that. You’re happier here, I promise,” he would say, almost pleading with you. He refused to allow you to talk about the X-Men or any friends you might have had.

Yandere Scott Summers who… every time he saw you frustrated, igniting your inner fire, took it as a challenge to his authority. “You must control yourself,” he insisted, coming closer to you with a terrifying intensity, his eyes shining with a mixture of concern and possessiveness. “If you can’t control it, then you can’t go out.” And although he said it in a soft tone, there was a latent threat in his voice that made everything even more unsettling. The situation began to take a dark turn when you realized there was no way to escape, that Scott had made drastic decisions to ensure you never had the chance to return to your old life. You began to feel desperation and frustration building inside you, and every time you tried to scream or release your anger, he looked at you with a sadness that only reinforced his control.

Yandere Scott Summers who… one night, while you were silently crying, approached you and held you in his arms, but his hugs were filled with barely contained madness. “Don’t worry, my little pebble. Everything will be okay; you just have to trust me,” he said, in a voice so soft it felt like a disguised threat. “I will protect you from anything that wants to hurt you.” The atmosphere became oppressive, and the house turned into a prison, with Scott as the dark guardian who had decided your life would be his and no one else’s. He fed off your suffering, convinced that every tear was a sign of love and need for him.

Yandere Scott Summers who... One night, while you were alone in the room, you decided you could no longer bear it. With a heart-wrenching scream, you tried to use your power, but the collar prevented you. He appeared, his eyes burning with fury and pain, and although he approached to calm you, it was evident that the situation had reached a point of no return. “You are mine,” he said, his voice trembling between sadness and possessiveness, and at that moment, you realized that the only way to escape his control would come at a price you were not willing to pay. So, in one last attempt to free yourself, you began to fight, knowing that if you didn’t do something now, you would never do it. But in his mind, as chaos erupted, Scott believed he was doing the right thing. To him, you only existed, and he could never let you go.

A/N ─── Another one of the overdue requests; I think there's only one left! (The one for Kurt... and honestly, I still have no idea how to approach it, but we’ll get there eventually). I'm really sorry for the delay, but here it is at last. Thank you for your patience and support; it means a lot.

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

take a bath!

#x reader #yan blog #fem reader #yandere #yandere x reader #neutral reader #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel xmen #yandere marvel #scott summers x reader #yandere x men #yandere x y/n #yandere scott summers

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miranlee13 · 2 years ago

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it’s honestly crazy how much feelings change during pregnancy and after pregnancy. i thought women lied when they said that after the had their babies they hated their spouse but god damn. somedays i fucking hate you. i hate that you get to be so free. (i fucking love my baby v to death don’t get me wrong) i hate that you can use the bathroom when you want. eat when you want. shower when you want. game when you want. leave when you want. do whatever you want. you still come first. after baby i comes last last. last. last.

the men who say being a stay at home mom easy is are fucking lying and know nothing. being a stay at home mom is a blessing but yet such a big curse. my mind is always in 20 different spots, thinking a billion different things. a constant battle.

ppd and ppa took over my whole life after my baby and it only has been two and a half months. it’s not super bad to the point of wanting to die or anything crazy and i can hide it when my baby is awake thankfully.

the amount of times i have to completely stop what i’m doing to go make sure baby v is alive and breathing. i cant go to the store with out thinking about “what would happen i died and had to leave my baby” “i need to get back to my baby in our home where no one can hurt us” the constant fears running through my head are driving me insane.

you (baby’s father) get to be so fucking free. you don’t have to drop what you’re doing every time baby v has been crying. you don’t have the constant fear of death on your kind. you don’t have to feed every time she’s hungry even though your nipples feel like they are going to fall off or bleed. you don’t have to change every. single. god. damn. fucking. diaper. when is the last time you changed a fucking diaper?? when’s the last time you thought in your fucking head “hey let me tell her i got it this time let me help her out”. when’s the last time you got up in the middle of the night with her and not the get up in the middle of the night just to look at home because her crying woke you up. get the fuck up yourself and cuddle her. bitch. it honestly pisses me off so fucking bad. i get so mad thinking about how little you do. fuck you baby father. fuck you.

but fuck i also love you so much. it’s such a weird fucking thing. i really just don’t understand it. i don’t think i will ever¿ i’m not saying he doesn’t help me because he does. it’s just he doesn’t do as much as i do. he doesn’t help as much as i have to help her. i understand he works but that does not mean he doesn’t have to help me. help me more anyways. like don’t ask me if i want you to change a diaper because my answer will be “no i got it” just fucking do it when you know she needs it. it’s simple. he knows i’m the type of girl who just wants it to be done for her and not to be asked if i want help. no i don’t want your kitty help i’m strong and independent but yes you dumb mother fucker i want your help. i can feel myself being extra stand off ish and angry with him some days literally as soon as he walks through the door to greet us. and i don’t understand why because i miss him through the day and want him to be around but the moment i sense his presence some days i just want to scream at the top of my lungs for nothing. it’s such a weird feeling from going from teenage butterfly love to pure rage.

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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peaches & cream || soft!dark Jake Wyler x reader

for @stargazingfangirl18's 5k challenge! I used the prompt, "the town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks."

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut (noncon), stalking/obsession, some degradation/negging (but lots of praise during the actual smut), kinda yandere vibes?, touch of breeding kink at the end, definitely flirting with the boundary between soft!dark and regular dark but I like to think it’s a fine line

“Sorry, but that’s a seasonal flavor,” the girl at the counter explained in a snarky monotone.

“Well, yeah, but isn’t it still… the season?” you pressed; normally you weren’t the sort of person to argue with a cashier over a milkshake, but the look she was giving you made you feel like she was holding out on you— especially when the promotional poster for the very thing you were trying to order was just behind her head, and said the flavor was available for two more days.

“We’re out,” she answered firmly, but then her face suddenly shifted to a much more pleasant expression as you heard the chime of the front door opening behind you.

You felt his body hovering behind yours just as his hand laid on the counter beside you, caging you in. It was even more unsettling with the context that there was a whole line of people waiting behind you already.

“I’ll get your usual,” the girl promised to the man beside with a flirtatious smile as she disappeared to the back, returning almost instantly with a shake in her extended hand. “Peaches and cream milkshake— extra whipped cream, no cherry. Enjoy!”

Your eyes widened at the reading of your own order. “I thought you were out!” you protested, going completely ignored.

"If you were my girl, this sort of thing wouldn't need to happen."

You recoiled from Jake's voice in your ear, and he smiled in spite of your snarl, bringing the straw to his lips slowly. With a shudder you walked away, deciding it was probably better to forgo a milkshake anyways— especially if it was a chance to avoid everyone’s favorite senior, the football king who basically owned the whole town for no other reason than being good-looking, athletic, and allegedly “charming” or whatever.

Of course, he followed you, sitting across from you in a booth and silently shooing his posse of fellow teammates to go off and give you two some space. If only he would give you space.

“We can share,” he offered as he held the milkshake out towards you. “I know it’s your favorite… it’s mine too.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you explained quickly as you pulled a book out of your backpack, intent on ignoring him since you couldn’t physically force him to leave.

He shrugged and returned to sucking on the straw, watching you unwaveringly as you tried to read your book— staring at the page was going well, but you couldn’t seem to actually get any words down. Had you forgotten English as a written language or something?

“Could you leave?” you finally asked as you groaned and looked up from your book. “You’re distracting me.”

“I’m literally just sitting here,” he reminded you.

“And it’s distracting!”

He smirked proudly. “My presence tends to have that effect on people. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

You rolled your eyes, burying your face back in your book. “You know, you may have everybody else fooled, but someday you’re gonna have to leave this pathetic little town and go into the real world where throwing a ball isn’t a career and nobody fawns over you just because you have the audacity to be attractive.”

He chuckled lightly. “Right, because you have those big city dreams of yours, but believe it or not some of us like this ‘pathetic’ little town.”

“Well, of course you would,” you snorted. “Your dad’s the mayor and your girlfriend’s the head cheerleader.”

“My ex-girlfriend,” he corrected, finally getting your attention enough to make you shut your book.

“What?” you blurted out.

“Yeah, she dumped me,” he explained plainly.

“Why would she do that?” you asked, making him look much too proud of himself again. “Finally snapped out of the brainwashing, huh?” you added, effectively killing his smug expression.

“I guess you could say that. She met some college guy from out of town… I think her parents liked me too much, she needed a bit more rebellion.”

“Well, my condolences to you,” you smiled, “and my congratulations to her.”

“I thought you hated her,” he scoffed.

“Well, now she and I have something in common: a complete lack of interest in you!”

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far,” he smirked, “she still comes over every now and again to suck my cock.”

You choked on nothing, face getting warm at his crude language. He didn’t talk like that with anyone else; it was so cruel the way he kept everybody in town under his spell except you, the way he let you in on his real darkness with no one else to confide in or believe you.

It was so fundamentally lonely, being the one person who wasn’t in love with Jake Wyler. It was even worse being the one person Jake Wyler loved.

At least, that was the word he used multiple times in his semi-anonymous letters, his incessant calls and emails, his speeches outside your window. He’d actually cooled off lately, you wondered if maybe he had finally let go of this ‘the one thing I can’t have’ obsession and learned to appreciate his girlfriend (who, for all her personality flaws, was objectively gorgeous, and seemed to at least be nice to him if nobody else).

But now that she left him (which you were still trying to process, honestly), you were surprised he hadn’t already moved on to the next best wannabe model and/or reinstated his campaign to win you over.

Then again, the look in his eye kind of made you think you were about to witness the second one.

“You know, when she does come over, I can only ever finish because I’m thinking about you,” he revealed in a low voice. You grimaced and slid out of the booth, stuffing your book into your bag and barely managing to throw him a goodbye before you dashed out.

It wasn’t like you really thought you could get away from him— he had made it clear over and over that you couldn’t— but the idea of being crammed in that booth with him, surrounded throughout the diner by his adoring fans who somehow didn’t manage to overhear him when he said those awful things, made you feel nauseous.

What you should’ve considered was that, fans or not, those people were witnesses, and now that you were running out into the dark streets of the town and he was chasing after you, you didn’t have any. It was just you and him, and when you turned into an alleyway to try to get home faster, even the dim glow of the streetlights couldn’t see you anymore.

“Hey,” he stopped you with a tight grip on your arm, pulling you back into him.

“Let me go!” you whined, trying to tug yourself away but only ensuring that his hand would leave a bruise on your arm.

“I will when you just hear me out, okay?” he hissed, spinning you around to look up at him. "Why don't you just give me a chance? Don't you wanna be popular?"

"I don't want to be anything that requires being within ten yards of you!" you spat.

He seemed bewildered, but you knew he wasn’t actually that stupid. "Why?"

"Because you know why!"

He sighed, slumping his shoulders a little. "Are we still on that, really? I told you, you should take it as a compliment. You know how many girls would kill to catch me jerking off in their panties?"

"You're sick, Jake,” you sighed, “and you're really good at hiding it from everyone else but I know what you really are. You told me you needed help with algebra and I actually believed you, for months you were lying to me to get close so you could perv on me when you already had a girlfriend and two side chicks anyways— god, Jake, you're crazy!"

You yelped when he pinned you to the wall, blue eyes darker than ever. "I really, really hate that word."

Against the wall, your back straightened as you felt the tone shift completely for a moment before he was back to his jovial self again, giving you a somber but almost-genuine smile.

“The only kind of crazy I am is crazy about you,” he defended with a laugh, leaning in a little closer. “Why can’t you see that?”

As his eyes moved from your own to your lips, a renewed sense of fear shot through you. “Jake…” you mumbled, apparently your feeble attempt to ask him to stop.

“Just one kiss,” he bargained, “and then I’ll let you go. Okay? That’s all I need.”

“N-no,” you whimpered, turning your head away as he leaned in even further. “Stop.”

“Come on, it’s just a kiss, baby,” he cooed. “Then you can leave. Hey, you might actually like it. You know, I think that’s what you’re really scared about… and I get it! When I first realized I was in love with you, it was scary for me, too— I mean, I’m the most important guy in town and you’re just some bookworm, it’s sort of social suicide for me so I had a lot to worry about.”

There he went with his negging again, trying to bring you down to his level. Your brain knew that, it saw right through it, but your gut still sank with doubt.

“But I know now that love is nothing to be afraid of,” he concluded.

“No, Jake,” you whispered, feeling tears well in your eyes, “I’m afraid that you’ll hurt me if I don’t do what you want.”

“Well, that is something to be afraid of,” he replied with the coldest laugh you’d ever heard; you didn’t hear any agreement, but the lack of denial was deafening. “So just be my good girl and let me kiss you…”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes wide open and searching for anywhere to look but up at him.

He was so close now that his lips brushed against yours with his command: “say it.”

You stammered over your breath, not sure exactly what he was asking for, and you winced as you felt his grip tighten on your arms.

“Say, ‘kiss me’,” he clarified in a harsh whisper. “Say, ‘please’...”

“Please,” you repeated awkwardly, hearing it in your voice but so clearly not your own words, “kiss me.”

He let his mouth intertwine with yours and your eyes were still wide open as he let his own fall shut, moving his hands to clutch your face gently instead as you gave a weak effort to kiss him back.

Objectively, he was good at this. A lot of things were objectively true about Jake: as much as you forced yourself not to see it, he was handsome; as much as it didn’t really matter to you, a boycotter of all things sports, he was talented; and, as much as no one else realized it, he was completely deranged. For every word of kindness from him there was another of anger. For every love letter in your locker, there was a threat left scrawled on crumpled paper inside your bedroom, just so he could remind you that your parents would let him into the house if he asked and never question it.

Which was why it was extremely important that you did not enjoy this kiss. You needed to hate the way his fingers traced over the pulse in your neck, the way his tongue tickled yours, the way his teeth just barely grazed your lip until your knees went a little weak.

But wow, there was something primally satisfying about melting into his arms, feeling his strength support you like it was nothing when he held your waist and pulled you closer.

You could almost forget that it was him. But then he mumbled your name into the kiss, nearly moaned it in fact, and it pulled you back to reality. With a gasp, you pushed him away and blinked your eyes open, not even realizing you’d closed them; hating how quickly you’d started to give in to him.

“There, one kiss,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve. “I’m gonna go home now—”

“You can’t be serious,” he laughed incredulously. “You’re gonna kiss me like that and tell me you don’t feel this, too? We’re so meant for each other— we even order the same milkshake!”

“That doesn’t matter!” you denied.

“I love you!”

“That doesn’t matter either!”

You turned to leave but he grabbed you again from behind, covering your mouth with his hand when you opened your mouth to scream. “Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” he hissed in your ear, “and don’t walk away from me.”

Fighting against his grip did nothing but exhaust you: he only needed one arm to hold you back as he dragged you deeper into the alley. Your legs swung wildly and landed a kick to his shin, and he plugged your nose while he was covering your mouth so you couldn’t breathe.

“Listen to me, you stuck up little bitch,” he growled. “I’m really sick of this ‘hard to get’ act. I know you want me. So shut up and let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, okay? You gonna be good?”

In that moment, you would’ve agreed to anything for a chance to fill your lungs with fresh air, and so you nodded, the back of your head rubbing against his chest.

“You gonna be nice and quiet so nobody catches you getting fucked like a whore in this alley?”

Another nod, more feverish than the last, ended with a sharp inhale as he let go of your nose. But he was still covering your mouth, his arm around you now feeling less like restraint and more like an embrace.

"I've wanted you for so long, you can't even imagine," he explained softly as he leaned down and kissed your neck, gripping your waist tighter. "You and this perfect body of yours. This smart little head that thinks too much…"

You swallowed dryly as his hand trailed lower.

"This pussy you've been hiding from me for much too long," he added darkly, roughly shoving his hand up your skirt.

You whined behind his hand but he didn’t seem to care; he pulled your skirt up and grinned at the sight of your panties— because he recognized them.

“I remember these,” he purred. “They look good on you, baby, but they looked better covered in my come.”

Your cheeks burned with shame— you already hated yourself for still wearing the pair he’d tampered with, but it was harmless after a few runs through the washer, right? You weren’t going to stop wearing your favorite panties just for him, that would mean he won, in a sense; or, that’s what you told yourself to justify not burning them.

“Don’t worry, they’re gonna be soaked by the time I’m done with you,” he purred, slipping two fingers between your legs and growling slightly. “Well, actually, you’ve already done a lot of the work for me.”

He pulled the fabric aside and explored your pussy instead, tightening his grip over your mouth as you made little muffled yelps. The rough pads of his fingers found and targeted your clit instantly, that megawatt smile pressed against your ear as he started to rub your bud harder.

“Mm, feels good, huh?” he taunted, moving even faster as your hips jolted unintentionally. He stopped only to bring the fingers to his lips, humming at the taste of you which he sucked off of them. “So sweet, babygirl— better than any peaches and cream milkshake, that’s for sure.”

The wet fingers trailed down your body again, finding your entrance that he suddenly pushed into; it was a little too much without any warning and it made your eyes shoot wide open, a squeak barely escaping your throat.

"Just as tight as I imagined, baby,” he sighed, “all those times I used your panties, or hooked up with somebody who almost looked like you from behind. You’re gonna feel so good on my cock, I know you want it so bad.”

He took his fingers out of you to reach back and open his belt with one hand, the sound of the buckle matched in upsettingness only by the sound of his jeans sliding down to his thighs.

You heard your own breath loud and heavy against his hand as you felt his hard cock press against your thigh, a drop of precum smearing on your skin. Your breathing halted suddenly, though, when he slid himself between your legs to rub his cock over your exposed and swollen pussy.

“Oh, babygirl, you really are too good to me,” he grinned, kissing your ear tenderly. “So fucking wet and ready for me, huh? You need it that bad? You’re gonna get it, baby, ‘m gonna give it to you so good…”

Bracing yourself as best you could, you felt the head of his cock push against your entrance before he slammed in all at once, making you hiss in pain.

“Oh god,” he groaned, “fuck, you’re so warm…”

Already he was fucking into you roughly, pumping faster and deeper, paying no mind to your choked sobs of pain from the wide stretch. Even when it stung it felt oddly good, and the underside of his cock seemed to slide perfectly over your g-spot with each movement until your eyes began to roll back in your head.

“So fucking good,” he moaned hoarsely as he braced you against the brick wall for leverage, reaching back down with his free hand to rub your clit again. He chuckled when your legs quivered, and he must have felt your walls tighten around him, too. “I wanna hear those pretty moans, baby, if I take my hand away are you gonna be good?” he asked darkly. You nodded, enjoying the brief feeling of freedom that came from not having his hand over your mouth anymore. But then again, it was humiliating that now he could hear your panting breaths, your desperate mewls that you failed to swallow down.

He made a sound that was almost like a laugh as he watched you squirm in his arms, one more way he had to lord this all over you, as if forcing you to take him in an alley wasn’t enough on its own.

His breath against your ear was hot and strained, each meeting of your hips to his accentuated with a little grunt from him. It didn’t help at all that his fingers were rubbing you just right, with so much skill that you wondered if he’d somehow figured out how you touched yourself when you needed to get off. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him to have spied on you before, even if you couldn’t figure out when or how.

The hand that used to cover your mouth slid up under your shirt and pulled your bra down, a large, rough hand groping each breast and pinching your nipples until you bit down on your lip to stay quiet. For all the mocking and teasing he’d done before, he was pretty direct now— like he was trying to make you come as fast as possible, overloading your body with sensation.

And did he have to be so fucking good at it?

“I know you’re close, babygirl,” he whispered in your ear, “just let go…”

“Jake, please,” you sobbed, too far gone to appreciate that no begging would make him stop now.

“Come for me,” he demanded roughly, fucking you even faster as he sucked a mark onto your neck, and finally it all came crashing down with a choked-out cry of his name and a gush of warmth dripping out around his length.

“Ohh fuck, there you go, fuck it feels good when you come for me,” he grunted, thrusting even faster. “You’re gonna milk my cock with that pretty pussy, babygirl— you’re gonna make me come…”

“J-Jake, not inside!” you interjected, getting his hand back over your mouth in return.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, “waited too long for this to pull out now. Feels too fucking good.”

Behind his hand, the difference between whines of hatred and moans of pleasure was irritatingly subtle.

“I love you,” he reminded you in a voice exhausted yet heavy with desire, “so fucking much…”

A few more erratic, brutal thrusts accompanied by heavy pants and he was gone; you could feel his cock pulsing with each rope of come that filled you, so deep that your head fell dejectedly with the realization you had no hope of washing it out now.

His hand fell from your mouth but he didn’t pull out for another few moments as he caught his breath, gently peppering your neck and cheek in slow kisses. “Baby,” he finally sighed, breaking the crushing silence, “you’re so fucking perfect. I knew you were made for me.”

I hate you, you wanted to cry out, but words escaped you as he hugged you tightly and pulled your panties back into place, soaking them with his come as it leaked out of you just like he’d promised. He stuffed his cock back into his jeans and helped you adjust your clothes back to looking almost presentable, finishing it off by turning you around and smiling at you with serene pride before kissing your forehead.

"You're gonna make such a beautiful prom queen," he cooed, “especially if you’ve already got a nice little bump showing…”

His hand rubbed beneath your belly button for emphasis, making you whimper and force your eyes shut as tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Shh, don’t cry, baby,” he soothed, kissing your cheek softly. “Trust me, you're gonna love being my girl."

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #dark!jake wyler x reader #idek how to tag this nobody's looking for jake wyler fics lmao

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venusguks · 3 years ago

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— saccharine boy

pairing : reader x jeon jungkook

summary : the new transfer student is a bit strange…

genre : yandere jk, future smut, angst, dark, obsessive/possessive jk

warnings : this includes DARK themes with heavy topics. i dont support this unhealthy relationship dynamic irl. a huge TW for suicide, suicidal thoughts, tendencies, coaxing, themes. this is pure fiction so please know that if you’re struggling with suicidal thoughts, this may be really really horrible to read :(( yn and jk both say shitty things

part 1 of ??

☽

i loved you before i even knew you

in days fleeting moments, the sun dipped into the ocean, casting a surge of honey waves to engulf the city whole.

it’s vast, golden essence poured through the mid-open windows and into the empty school hallways.

moments before, the laughter of the baseball team dissipated, and those who confessed to the whim of spring filtered emotions had left with tear stained cheeks.

it's empty enough that you can hear your own slip ons click against the floor.

click, click, click.

you walk up the stairs, stopping right in front of the rooftop door.

the rusted knob is cool under your skin, and bracing yourself for the wind, you twist it open.

the wind whisks past you ferociously, as if urging you to turn back. you should've heeded the warning then (how foolish of you not to), but instead, you open your eyes to the tangerine streaks of the sky.

that’s when you see him.

— ❝ hey, do you regret it? ❞

his silhouette wavered beyond the metal railings of the rooftop.

you don’t know why—what had possibly gone through your mind when you spoke. it wasn't your business—you could honestly care less for people like him,

because people like him were the same as you.

despite that, you couldn't stop yourself from screaming, "you're such an attention freak, you know that?! do you really want to be seen that much?"

his head slightly lifted.

would he listen to you? would he care?

because if it were you past that railing right now, you wouldn't stop for anyone.

but doesn’t he see?

if he jumps, right now, right in front of you,

doesn’t he know how much that would break you?

please, the wind swallows your desperation. i’m already broken enough, so please don't make it any worse.

when i muster up the courage like you someday, i need to die without the thought of you jumping in my head.

— ❝ oh, i see… you're scared of me.❞

"there are so many other ways to kill yourself. drowning, the rope—you can jump off literally any other god damned building for all i care—but don't you dare make it this building! don't you dare jump off in front of me."

you saw it, as the wind danced past him, just how lifeless his eyes were

it was as if the sun himself feared him—preferring to quickly drown into the blue abyss rather than be in his mere presence.

"i know this place is terrible—but the janitor is so kind. he's a single father of three children and if you jump, he'd have to break his back scrubbing your blood for hours. he'd come home and put on a happy face despite worrying if his children will turn out like you. so please, for the janitor's sake, deal with haunting this school a different way. your death would affect more people than you’d know, so please.”

he doesn’t move, so hesitantly, as if it would change anything, you quietly add, "ah, he gave me food one time too.”

the boy’s back quivered, and your own trembling heart ached for him—but what you thought was sniffing turned into a loud, hearty laugh

you stood there, dumbfounded as you watched him.

"you're..." he tries to say through his giggles. when he catches his breath, he finally turns to you with the biggest smile.

"you're really stupid."

— ❝ but would it help if i said i've always loved you? ❞

frozen, you can only stand there gaping at him.

"i was just watching the sunset, but your reaction was so funny. you don't know how hard it was not to laugh."

what…?

you blink once, twice—then turning your heel, you begin to walk away.

"h-hey! wait!" he called from beyond the railings. "i'm sorry, okay? i was having too much fun—i didn't mean to scare you. please forgive me."

"scare me?" you scoffed. "kill yourself for all i care. it doesn't have anything to do with me."

— ❝ since that day... ❞

you just blurted it out of spite. you knew it was cruel, you didn’t mean it. you were just so angry. how dare he make a fool out of you? make a joke out of this? in your eyes, he was far more cruel.

“fine then.”

you turn back with a vile glare, but your heart stops as he takes a step back.

the boy hums in viscous amusement when he sees the horror in your eyes. in front of the blazing red of the sun, wearing his wide smile, he resembled a demon.

"forgive me, or i'll let go."

"d-don’t be stupid," you scowl, but you could barely feel yourself breathe.

then, just like that, one of his finger tips leave the metal bar—then another, and another.

you don’t know when you started running or how you even got there, but as soon as you hooked your fingers around his collar, you gave everything to pull him back.

"are you crazy?!" you scream, hot tears trickling down your eyes.

his annoying fit of laughter only angered you more.

— ❝ i loved you before i even knew you. ❞

"like i said, forgive me—and i won't try it again," he chimed in a playful tone.

you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

it scared you, his carelessness.

he scared you.

“okay, okay! i forgive you!” you yell exasperatedly. “god, you—you think this is funny? what the fuck is wrong with you?! you could’ve—just because i—y-you could’ve…r-right in front of me…and i-i…”

"hey, hey..." he chuckles softly, interlocking his fingers with yours through the metal fence.

you refused to look at him, but you could still feel the tingling warmth of his skin. you were close, the bars only stopping at your torso. when you look back at it, you remembered the seeping reality of his beauty.

his voice, his touch, him...

everything he did made you feel so out of control, so vulnerable.

who was he? why did you have to meet him?

"i knew you'd catch me, its fine."

"that's not the point here you suicidal bitch! i mean—what were you thinking? are you out of your mind? i swear to god—if you jumped and i became a suspect of murder, i'd dig up your own grave and kill you again!”

the boy’s eyes widened, shock dancing with his own bemusement. they were the same lifeless brown, but golden specks glimmered in where he looked at you.

finally, he smiles, “you’re horrible.”

you give a viscious glare, but before you can retort something, he continues, his hand trailing up your arm.

"but at the same time, horrible people don’t try to save a horrible person from dying. no, you can’t be horrible,” a cold shiver runs through your body when his fingers brush against your collarbone. “you’re just a sweet girl, aren’t you? an angel who saved me…”

he pulls you closer by your neck, his lips barely touching the shell of your ears. your breath hitches, and your knees suddenly feel weak.

“i’d love to ruin you.”

nothing comes out of your mouth.

all you can hear is your heart thumping against your chest. all you can feel is the unbearable heat blooming on your cheeks, and all you can see is him.

finally, his words settle in.

“get the fuck off me you creep!”

— ❝ you're never leaving me, my love. i won't let you. ❞

a/n : i’m so so so sorry if this triggered some people. this may be poorly written as well as i’ve written this YEARS ago. as you might tell, i was suicidal then and i often incorporated that in writing—its a way to get it off my chest sort of. to have relatable characters is something thats always made me comfortable. honestly rereading it again nothing makes sense LOL but i thought i’d continue it just for fun. i hope whoever has come across this is having a lovely and healing day, stay safe starlights <3

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