#and they both almost broke down crying about it lol

[chimerical-daydreams]

Love your It Never Happens au.

Question, in what order do they pick up the family members? Obviously Bonnie is first, and I'm guessing Siffrin is last? But what about the rest? Is it canon order(if there is one?) And how does king like they rest of the family?

Again, love the au. You don't have to answer this, but I would be honored if you did.

While I don't have anything concrete for now, I imagine the order would go something like:

Bonnie & Nille: live in the closest city to the coast where King washes up. King really leans on Nille for his problems, and would probably tell her anything. He helps offset Bonnie's constant enthusiasm, and acts as a grounding point for them.

Odile: Arrived by boat, so probably somewhere along the coast as well. King asks deeply respects her knowledge, and shares in her interest for Vaugarde's culture, but struggles getting past her emotional barrier.

Mirabelle: Dormont is pretty far inland, so it'll take a while for everyone to get there. King appreciates her more than he could express, so he settles for helping her out whenever possible.

Isabeau: Jouvente is the furthest town from the coat we know the location of. King gets a little flustered by his boisterousness, but form a kin of warrior's bond as the party tanks.

?. Siffrin: A wanderer. I actually imagine the group will have passed by them multiple times before he actually joins (because someone coughcoughLoopcoughcough keeps going away from him). King and Siffrin are very similar in many ways, but I feel like Siffrin would struggle with having someone who Sees Through Them, so he'd kind of avoid King a bit.

[thebuttsmcgee]

so. um. 👉👈

hi guysies.

Ig I should just say like. Hi

I haven't been posting here as much cause. Idk. Might be depression? I keep thinking its cause I've been so busy, which also wouldn't be not untrue, but these past, like, 3 weeks I think so far? I've had some free time but I haven't cause. I dunno, then again, I haven't been doing too much in general? I gues, besides very mandatory things, hell I've even been lacking in my regular skyrim hours of playing.

That, and as said, I get super melancholic when I remember just how sad and bittersweet it is that t0h is. Actually legit over. The show and experience, that is.

Oh all that and also becuz my headphones broke! Fuck! That's like number 2 in my bare necessities for when I post, do almost anything really! It's seriously been painful this past month going without headphones holy shit. Dude I've been scratching at the bit for some relief for headphones, I NEED music legitimately. Even right now, as I'm typing this on my phone, my music is on low levels.

But yerp. Its been. Rough. Really rough. I really do appreciate yall, everyone of yall. Have a sweet week everyone, ✌️!

[genshin-obsessed]

Breaking Up hcs | Genshin & HSR

Have I done this before? I know I made that "what if we broke up?" post but I don't think I've done break up hcs before? I hope not anyway cuz i'm doing them now! Also, maybe I went overboard a little cuz even I felt bad lol and I usually don't feel sad when I write angst.

Characters: Aether, Diluc, Wanderer, Caelus, Jing Yuan, and Aventurine (lol I'ma try)

☽ Aether

That break up took a toll on him, more so than even he thought at first. Sleeping became his least favorite activity because he was constantly seeing your faces in his dreams. Constantly.

The entirety of Teyvat fell apart for the short time their favorite errand boy refused to do anything for them. Honestly, Aether didn't do anything for the first week or so. He was barely eating, barely sleeping, barely alive.

It was hard adventuring too, Paimon no longer wanted him to go because sometimes he'd just get distracted and take unnecessary hits. It was kinda bad. Eventually, she got Katheryne to no longer give him any combat requests because he just wasn't doing good enough.

All he wanted to do was talk to you, but you didn't want to talk to him, so that led him to just remaining in his teapot alone. He didn't even allow visitors for a short while. Paimon did her best to try and comfort him, but there were so few words that could actually get through that sorrow he was dealing with.

It took maybe a month before he allowed people to come visit him and under no circumstances were they allowed to bring you up. Mainly because he'd cry. Everyone did try in their own way to help him, even people like Wanderer or Arlecchino tried to give him some "words of wisdom". It... didn't work mainly because Aether wasn't receptive to it anymore.

☽ Diluc

He really did busy himself with work like he said he would. It's almost all hours of the day. He's rarely even seen at home anymore.

Ironically, Diluc is still very careful about getting hurt because if he did, then he'd need to remain at home and be on bed rest and he genuinely couldn't handle that.

He no longer sleeps in his bed either. Usually, he comes home later, collapses on the couch for a few hours until some dream about you wakes him up and he's back to work. He can't stand sleeping in that bed because you used to lay right beside him.

No one, I mean no one, is allowed to even say your name. Truth be told, Diluc is barely hanging on by a thread, someone saying your name and bringing your image to his mind's eye would ruin him.

Even Kaeya doesn't tease him. Actually, Kaeya keeps away because Diluc is quite irritable and not many people wanted to deal with that. While they understood the break up upset him... it was just too much.

☽ Wanderer

Oh boy. Breaking up with him was hard because he was angry and yelling (at the situation apparently), and just saying no. Eventually though, he relented and agreed. You didn't want to be with him and... well, it wasn't right to force you.

The aftermath was pretty bad. He was angry, didn't want to talk to anyone, and just up and vanished for a while. It wasn't until Aether and Paimon accidentally stumbled upon him while adventuring that they learned a little about what happened.

(W/n) explained that he never thought he'd lose you. Out of all the people he was "friendly" with, he never thought you would up and leave the way you did. It broke his heart- a heart he didn't even know started beating again.

Aether offered for (w/n) to join him on some adventures to just take his mind off of things and he, surprisingly, agreed. But it wasn't the same. Both Paimon and Aether noticed the lack of energy.

He was also constantly in his own mind. Most conversations happened between Aether and Paimon because (w/n) would just mentally check out and not even be paying attention. He didn't break down and cry physically but emotionally, he was a wreck. But it was so bad, he didn't know what to do. Cry, scream, try and take over the world, he didn't know.

What he did know was that the world didn't feel right without you.

☆ Caelus

You lived on the Astral Express with him and the others. Everyone thought you were the cutest couple and everywhere you went, you two received the same compliments. So, he definitely fell apart a little when you just up and ended the relationship.

The worst part was that he couldn't have time away from you. Not in the mean sense, but if you two were breaking up, he needed (for his own mental health) not to see you every single day. But... that wasn't possible.

It was extremely awkward for everyone on board. Welt and Himeko tried their best to keep things normal, the conductor did their best to keep conversations going, and Dan Heng just didn't bother coming out of his room. Caelus took a page from Dan Heng's books and just locked himself away for like two weeks.

When it was finally time for him to come out, he took time off of the express, choosing to go visit some old friends to regain some of that normalcy. Jarilo VI was where he spent most of his time as he hadn't been there in a while. He stayed there without the others for maybe two or so weeks, finding ample time to spend with Natasha, Seele, Bronya, Serval, and Gepard.

While he didn't openly state you two broke up, everyone knew. He did go and visit the Xianzhou which Dan Heng did join him in doing which was a good bonding experience for the two. It was when he finally opened up about losing you. According to Caelus, everything felt so wrong. Like a part of him was missing and that part was so close to his reach. But every single day, he had to pretend like it wasn't.

☆ Jing Yuan

He really didn't know what to do at the moment. He kinda stopped paying attention after you said you wanted to end the relationship. He tried to convince you otherwise, saying that breaking up wouldn't give him the chance to fix it but you were pretty adamant. He couldn't just say no... so he said ok and you were gone.

He tried to act normal. He did his job normally for the first day and that's when it all started to fall apart. The second he had time alone, it just hit him so painfully. You thought him losing his old friends was painful? This was a whole new level.

The second day, he couldn't really perform his duties as well and just handed them off to the first person he saw. Yanqing was most worried and desperately tried to get anyone's help because he didn't know what to do. It led him straight to the Astral Express and unsurprisingly, no one knew what to do.

Jing Yuan didn't even want help, honestly. He'd been hurting for years carrying the memories he did, so what was one more painful one? Maybe it was some sort of divine justice? Jing Yuan wasn't the most upstanding man, right? So he probably deserved this. What right did he have to just go and fix it?

Caelus did end up finding him out and about once, having the chance to share tea with Jing Yuan. The general explained he didn't know how to fix anything anymore. While it wasn't healthy to live life this way, it was his punishment probably. Caelus' concern led him to ask that burning question: why?

"I should've done better. Treated them better... maybe then... I'd still have them."

☆ Aventurine

He almost didn't register the words that came out of your mouth. You... break up with him? You were talking, explaining why, but he couldn't really follow. It's like his brain just stopped working and all he could think was 'this wasn't supposed to happen'.

At the end of it, you were gone and he was alone. Aventurine expected betrayal in his line of work, but he never expected it from you. Your "deal" with him was special. It wasn't like his normal deals. It was one that you two emerged equally victorious and no one lost anything. Right?

Even Ratio had pity for him. Aventurine waltzed around as if nothing happened but there was such a dramatic shift in his personality. He said the same things he always did, he acted as if he always did, but there was a distinct bitterness when he spoke of being let down.

When he told people to make use of him, there was a hint of resentment laced in his words. While he claimed he expected to be exploited at some point, there was still a twinge of fear. It never hurt before but for some reason, it scared him now.

He did briefly open up to Ratio, who was just berating him as usual, and it even took him by surprise. Aventurine didn't say much, but he did say how he figured everyone in the world to want to set him on fire for one reason or another. He just didn't expect it would be you to light the flame. Veritas called him an idiot and said you had every right to leave, which Aventurine wholeheartedly agreed with.

You did have every right to leave. You just didn't have the right to take whatever made him feel normal.

[sorcerous-caress]

I'm so jealous of Daniil. Having only played the Haruspex route so far in both game, each time I'm invited to the Bachelor's place I turn green with envy at how he resides at an actual proper house with a real room and a real bed.

A real bed with a whole bedframe. A pillow with an actual pillowcase!! His bed even has sheets!

He has WINDOWS. His house is in a nice neighbourhood, and his roommate is a very attractive woman. There is actual furniture in his room. Not one hint of fungus growing on the walls or rust!

Can you imagine living there as your lair? Spending the whole game knowing you have a real house with a real bed to go back to at the end of each night? Seeing Eva's face every day before leaving to do quests?

Meanwhile, Artemy is stuck in this dumpster room of an abandoned factory. Cuddling with rats on his makeshift bed, held by nothing but a wooden panel, some boxes and a dream.

A pillow so yellow it has its own ecosystem where bugs established real estate. Is that even a pillow or is it some random rock Artemy found and chucked in there? Is it a stale loaf of bread?? Why is it hard looking?

But no, you don't even get to keep the rock roach pillow because in P2, they take it away.

Fuck you Artemy, you had it good for too long. No pillow now because what are you gonna do about it?. Fold your mattress instead to have a resemblance of a faux sense of protection under your most vital organ during the long hours of death rehearsal that you call sleep.

Somehow, they made the bed even more unstable looking. As if that thin panel in the middle could hold Artemy's weight without caving in. Oh, and apparently, I ran out of boxes to use for furniture because the bed and the table have to share custody of the same box.

We have downgraded into barrels now, as you can see :) No, I don't know what they used to contain inside.

Waking up every day to Sticky's snotty face telling me not to spit in the wind and nagging me about cleaning up the week-old human organs thrown around that are stinking up the place.

THERE IS MOLD GROWING ON MY WALLS. RUST FLAKES FALL FROM THE EXPOSED METAL PIPES DOWN INTO MY CEREAL EACH BREAKFAST.

This single wall holds so much mold and fungus that they started crossbreeding and evolved into new, never seen before types of bacteria. Satan's asscrack is more hygienic than whatever biohazard plagues of Egypt this slab of concrete contains.

I live in the gutters. My only neighbours are an illegal gang of minors with a hatred for furries and another illegal gang but of adults this time who sell me bullets way above the market price. A dangerous neighbourhood where you can't have shit because SOMEONE STOLE MY BULL.

The basement I reside in has no windows, the smell is pungent and fucking vile down here. There isn't even a space for a bathroom.

This is my kitchenette/bathroomette/showerette/cupboardette/surgery tools disinfection stationette/sinkette/watercoolerette/toilette/fridge.

also my buckets yk.

One bucket for the makeshift bathroom, another for holding important organs and loose guts during surgery, a third one as a cooking pot for making tasty meat grub soup and the final one for murky water after sweeping the floor.

What do I use to tell them apart? Oh nothing :) I just mix em up every now and then, oppsie daisy.

Oh and the floors are CONSTANTLY wet for some reason. Yeah sticky slipped and almost broke his neck the other day so watch your steps.

There is also this eerie room with literal garbage and broken furniture right next to the entrance. Don't worry about it, sometimes I hear someone crying and screaming for help when I'm trying to go to sleep but it's just the factory being silly lol.

Now this? This is where the M A G I C happens. This is where Artemy the Menkhu makes his famous herbal remedies and natural mixtures. This is where the Panacea for the infamous sand plague gets made!

In a rusty empty food can.

Falling into a bucket with shit stains.

MEDICINE BABBYYY. GET YOUR WEAK SOFT BONED ASS BACK TO THE CAPITAL BITCH, THIS IS HOW REAL MEN MAKE REAALLL MEDICINE!! RAWRRRRR🦅🦅💥💥

Meanwhile, dickovsky has the view of the cathedral and polyhedron just around the corner from where he resides. He has a backyard with a lake, and all I have is a swamp behind my basement. I trudge through the mud each night, collecting weeds and herbs to mix and trade so I and the two orphans who adopted themselves into my life don't go starving.

Not to mention the gaggles of herb brides loitering outside and giving me a false bad reputation.

That dandy douchbag has a pharmacy, a grocery, and a tailor right next door. The closest establishment to my shrekcore place of resident is a dingy basement bar with shady drinks and no bouncer to check for ID, I saw two kids in there once.

Pov: a qt3.14 surgeon says his dad isn't home and invites you over.

[aethes-bookshelf]

let me be your shelter || astarion/gn!tav

This is the result of an especially hectic exam season. I started writing this fic instead of having a meltdown lol Now that I have more time again, I decided to finish it :) I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: hurt/comfort (mostly comfort), gn!Tav (can be read as a self-insert), Tav/Reader is the one being comforted

Pairing: Astarion/Tav, Astarion/Reader

Wordcount: 1.5k

Summary: You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. Even after everything you'd been through, you put on a brave face. All the way up until you couldn't.

Luckily, Astarion's always there to pick up the pieces.

ao3 link

The sun was setting outside when you finally closed the front door of your house behind you, cloaking the entrance corridor in darkness. The straps of your pack were digging quite painfully into your shoulder, no doubt leaving angry marks on your skin. You threw it to the floor with a huff and closed your eyes for a moment,

The day's exhaustion rolled off of you in waves; hours worth of dust and grime stuck to your clothes and skin. Rebuilding the city after the Battle of Baldur’s Gate was a noble cause. It being noble, however, didn’t make it any less exhausting.

You tried running your fingers through your hair, but your hand almost got stuck in it instead. The firm tug against your scalp made your eyes water. Your back was on fire, your legs were on fire, your face was tacky with drying sweat. It was all so much, too much.

Curling up in a corner and staying there until the sun fell out of the sky seemed worryingly appealing. I still have to go back out there tomorrow, though, you thought. The ugly, choking pressure in your throat got tighter and tighter. Your eyes, still clenched shut, brimmed with tears.

‘Darling?’ called a familiar voice from somewhere on the other side of the corridor. ‘Why are you just standing there? At least light a candle or something. It’s not like you can see like this,’ the voice continued, getting closer.

There was the hiss of a match being lit; one, two, three candles lit up the darkness.

‘Well, not that you can see much with your eyes closed, anyway,’ said Astarion. All snark left his voice when he saw the first tears roll down your cheeks. ‘Oh, I wasn’t that mean, was I? Why are you crying, love?’

‘I-I’m sorry.’ Your voice broke. ‘I don’t- don’t know why, I’m just- just so…’ you trailed off as the first sobs tore out of your chest.

Just a few months ago, Astarion would be looking like a deer in headlights right about now. He still remembered the very first time you broke down after the whole Absolute-tadpole nonsense was over. After everyone else went their separate ways and you chose to stay to help rebuild the city and he chose to stay with you. Naturally.

The breakdown happened soon after. The second night the two of you slept in your brand new bed in your brand new house, the dam inside you just broke, shattered into pieces; and you were swept up in the current of the build-up grief and fear.

Astarion, as much as he loathed to admit it, panicked. He had no idea how to comfort people; after all, it wasn’t a skill necessary for survival for most of his life, so he never really bothered to learn it. He still hadn’t even after whatever the two of you shared at first turned more serious. You’d always tried to be the strong, reliable one — a leader through and through, a shoulder to cry on for everyone else. The stable one. The stable one never gets to cry, so you didn’t.

As ashamed as Astarion was when he realized it, he hadn’t even thought you could cry. It just never really crossed his mind.

Luckily for the both of you, he loved you far too much not to learn from his mistakes after that very first night of the rest of your life. He’d like to think he got comforting you down to a science.

‘Would you like a hug, my sweet?’ Step one was almost always physical contact. And not just because holding you became one of his favorite pastimes; rather, it was grounding for you to have something to hold onto when you got like this. Astarion would gladly volunteer to be that something whenever he could.

You didn’t trust your voice enough to answer, so you just nodded instead. You were starting to tremble; rarely a good sign. Whatever stress-induced breakdown was happening would probably be a big one.

Astarion knew better than to try to wrestle you from the spot you were standing in. It would do nothing except agitate you further, so he simply walked up to you and gathered you into his arms.

The moment you were close enough to hide your face in the crook of his neck, the sobs that had been building up inside you this entire time wrecked your body. You were wailing loudly; so loudly you’d be embarrassed if you had enough energy left in you to care.

Astarion winced slightly at first — you were close enough to his ear for it to hurt. Still, he held you closer, firmer. Just enough pressure to help you calm down.

Eventually, your wailing died down to sobbing, and sobbing turned into soft sniffling. He tried to run a hand through your hair; his fingers nearly got stuck in it, just like yours before.

‘Would you say no to a bath, darling?’ he said, voice soft and quiet. ‘I got some new scented oils a few days ago. I even paid for them this time.’

That got a small chuckle out of you. Your throat was raw and your face was even more sticky now; a bath sounded wonderful.

‘I’d rather like a bath, I think.’ Your voice was all scratchy. You’d probably have one hell of a time trying to speak tomorrow.

‘Come on, then.’ Astarion kissed the top of your head and gently pried you away from his neck.

Usually you were the one leading him everywhere; he supposed in moments like these it was his turn to lead you instead. He walked you to the bathroom, holding your hand. And he didn’t even comment on the snot you left on his shirt, which was a great show of understanding on his part — as far as he was concerned — although he did take it off and throw it in the laundry basket as soon as the two of you entered the bathroom. All his love for you didn’t mean he’d be okay running about in a snotted-up shirt.

He sat you down on the floor near the bathtub and filled it with water. He smelled each of the new scented oils with great consideration. The last thing you probably wanted at the moment was having to pick which oil to put in your bath, so he wanted to make the choice for you — and to make the right one.

After the bath was all prepared, Astarion helped you out of your clothes and walked you to the corner of the bathroom, where he washed most of the dirt off your skin. Making sure you could properly relax also meant making sure you wouldn’t be soaking in dirty water, after all.

Soon enough, you were sitting in the bathtub with your eyes closed. Right after helping you inside the bath, Astarion ran off to grab your favorite hairbrush. And now, he busied himself with detangling the mess your hair had become over the course of your day. He talked and talked all the while — about his day, about this awful thief he managed to thwart the other night, about the shopping trip he went on the day before — about everything and nothing, just to keep talking. Just to fill the silence with noise that would drown out your screaming, tired mind. He didn’t expect you to answer; it was enough that you listened.

After your hair was brushed, washed and conditioned, Astarion dried you off and brought you a freshly washed set of pajamas.

‘You need to sleep, darling,’ he said, handing you the clothes. He knew you were far too tired to argue with him on that. As endearing as your usual desire to stay up with him for as long as possible was, you needed rest — badly.

‘Will you stay with me?’ you said. You felt much better now that all the grime was off of you, but the thought of laying in bed alone made you want to cry all over again.

‘As if I’d ever leave,’ scoffed Astarion as he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom.

The coldness of his bare chest was a much needed comfort. You nuzzled closer to him as he threw a thick blanket over the two of you. He reached over to his bedside table.

‘I could read for you, if you’d like.’

You mumbled out a ‘yes’. Your eyelids were so very heavy, but the idea of hearing Astarion’s voice rumble in his chest right against your cheek sounded lovely.

He chuckled to himself. ‘You’re adorable when you’re tired.’

He started reading. You weren’t really paying attention to what he was reading, rather to the sound of his voice itself. The individual words and sentences blurred into one, continuous rumble. Listening to him speak felt like falling deeper and deeper into a pile of the softest pillows.

You were out before Astarion could finish the first fifteen pages of the book. He noticed by the end of page twenty. When he did, he gently put away the book and held you tighter against him. And he may or may not have left a few kisses on your forehead, but that’s neither here nor there.

Astarion got comforting you down to a science. And he was damn proud that he was the one you trusted to comfort you in the first place.

[the-winter-spider]

Yours, Always | Part Twenty-Two

Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: angst??? fluff???

A/N: So sad this fic is gonna be done in a few more parts, im thinking before 30 parts lol but we'll see.

Masterpost

----

The morning creeps in slowly, gently.

Golden sunlight filters through the thin hotel curtains, washing over the tangled sheets and the curve of bare shoulders. It warms the quiet, soft, reverent as if the world itself knows not to disturb what’s still fragile.

Your cheek is pressed against the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, the muted thump of his heartbeat anchoring you like it always has. His arms are wound around you like muscle memory like they never forgot how to hold you, even after all this time. Even after all that silence.

You shift slightly, your lashes brushing his skin as your eyes flutter open. His scent…cedarwood, old leather, something softer underneath fills your lungs. Comfort, wrapped in nostalgia.

He’s already looking at you.

“Morning,” you whisper, voice cracked and raw from sleep and maybe from all the crying you did in this same bed just hours ago.

He breathes a slow, quiet sound that almost resembles a laugh, but it’s too tender to be anything but love.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he murmurs, and the gravel in his voice sinks into your bones. His thumb traces gentle, sleepy circles along your bare hip beneath the blanket. “You sleep okay?”

You nod.

Because, yeah. You did. Better than you have in weeks. Maybe months. Maybe since before everything broke apart.

His arms tighten around you for a moment, just a second, just enough to say, I’m still here before he loosens his hold, letting you shift upright. You tug the sheet with you, half out of instinct, half out of shyness, though it’s silly now.

He watches you move like he always has like it matters. Like you matter. Like you’re something precious.

Like you’re something his.

“What’s the plan today?” he asks softly, even though he already knows. You both do. It’s been hanging in the air since last night, since the kiss, since the weight of a thousand unsaid things finally cracked the dam.

You exhale slowly, the breath catching in your chest before it makes it out. “I have to go home, talk to Steve.”

His gaze flickers. His jaw works. But he just nods once and looks away. That silence from him, it’s not disappointment. It’s restraint.

 “Do you… want me to come with you?” The question is a whisper. Not possessive or  jealous. Just offered, soft and steady. Like a hand extended in the dark. Like he’ll follow you anywhere because he made it clear he would. 

You look at him for a minute too long, heart aching with how much he’s always known how to show up without needing to be asked.

You shake your head gently. “No. I think… I think you should go with Sam. I heard him talking about another meeting today. You should go.”

He lets out a sigh that’s half dramatic, half genuine and flops back onto the bed, one arm thrown over his face.

“Can we at least get coffee first?” he groans, voice muffled.

You laugh softly. “Of course.”

You slip out of the bed in one of his old T-shirts, soft, faded, worn with time and love. It hits mid-thigh, smells like him, and for a second, you let yourself pretend this is what waking up with him every morning would feel like.

You tug on your jeans quietly, finger-comb your hair in the mirror, and glance back toward him once you’ve laced up your sneakers.

“You ready?”

He’s standing behind you now, barefoot, sleep-ruffled, arms crossed over his chest but his eyes… his eyes are on you like you’ve hung the stars, like you’re every wish he’s ever made that never came true.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says. 

Your breath catches. The words hit somewhere deep, somewhere bruised and tender.

You look down, blushing like a girl half your age, lips twitching into a smile you don’t even try to hide. “Shut up,” you murmur, but your voice is soft and your heart is louder.

He just grins, that boyish kind of grin that used to make you fall in love with him in a hundred different moments. “Let’s go.”

And you do.

You walk side by side to the little café around the corner, hands brushing occasionally but never quite holding. It’s soft and familiar. Like slipping back into something that always fit.

He orders your usual without asking.

You sit outside the coffee shop, the late morning breeze curling around your ankles, warm and lazy. Your iced coffee sweats in your hand, the condensation dripping onto your fingers as you lean back in the metal chair, eyes on Bucky.

He’s across from you, one leg stretched out under the table, his sunglasses pushed into his hair, squinting against the light. He’s wearing that grey T-shirt you love, the one that clings to his shoulders and smells like cedar and soap and something purely him.

You’re both quiet for a moment, the sounds of the city moving around you distant sirens, the screech of tires, someone playing saxophone two streets over. It should feel normal. But it doesn’t. Not yet.

“So how’s the house coming along?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light. You sip from your straw. “You and Sam still out there every day pretending you know what you’re doing?”

Bucky huffs a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head for a moment before leaning forward again, elbows on the table. “Sam thinks he’s Bob the Builder now. Keeps telling me I should be grateful he hasn’t installed a karaoke machine in the living room.”

You smile at that, grateful for the warmth of it, the way it softens your chest. “You’d love that, don’t lie.”

“I’d rather be shot again,” he says, deadpan.

You laugh.

He smiles, slow and easy, like he’s soaking you in.

“It’s good,” he adds, voice softening. “The frame’s solid. Plumbing’s halfway done. Electric goes in next week if the guy shows up on time. I already laid out where the stairs are gonna go and the main bedroom’s starting to look like something real. Got these big windows right where the sun hits at six a.m. I remembered you said you liked that… the sun waking you up before your alarm does.”

Your throat tightens, but you don’t say anything. You just look down at your cup, watching the way your finger traces over the rim.

“And the porch,” Bucky continues, softer now. “It’s wide, real wide. Big enough for a swing on one side and a couple chairs. Maybe a little table where you could put your tea in the mornings.”

You glance up at him, heart aching.

“That sounds…” you trail off, swallowing. “Sounds like a dream.”

“It’s supposed to be,” he says. But his eyes drop, and there’s a flicker there. Like he’s holding something back.

“I can’t wait to see it when it's done.”  You settle back in your seat, letting the moment stretch. Letting the silence settle again.

And then it’s time.

You stand from the table. You don’t want to go.

Bucky stands too, and this time when you hug, it’s longer than usual. His hands rest on your back, fingers curling into your jacket like he’s not ready to let go. Your face is tucked against his neck, breathing him in, steadying yourself.

When you finally step away, your chest aches with the absence of him.

He doesn’t say goodbye, just nods.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmurs.

You give him a small smile. “Yeah, later.”

----

The air was crisp that morning, one of those rare, quiet spring days where the world seemed to exhale just long enough for you to catch your breath. Bucky stood on the porch of your childhood home, his hand hovering in the air before he finally knocked. It had been years since he’d stood there like this, without you.

When the door creaked open, your mom blinked at him in surprise. She was holding a tea towel, hands slightly damp, the scent of lemon cleaner still lingering behind her.

“Bucky,” she said with a lift of her brow. “You do know she’s not here, right?”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck like he used to when he was sixteen and nervous before taking you to a school dance. “Yeah, I know. Just me this time.”

Your mom smirked, stepping aside to let him in. “God, I’m not used to that. There was a time I couldn’t go a single day without hearing you shout through that screen door, askin’ if she was home.”

He laughed as he followed her into the kitchen, the floorboards creaking under his boots like they remembered him. “Was hoping to ask a favor, actually.”

She glanced at him curiously. “Oh?”

“There’s something I was wondering if I could borrow,” he said, his voice softer now, hesitant.

She folded the towel, setting it on the counter. “Well, I’m not sure what I’d have that could be of use to a man building a house, but ask away.”

He looked at her, eyes full of something warm and aching all at once. “It’s not tools, or anything like that. I was wondering if… if the scrapbook Y/N made, the one about her dream house… if it was still here.”

Your mom blinked. Her lips parted, but no words came for a second. Slowly, she smiled sadly. “She never took it with her. Said it belonged here.” Her voice wavered slightly. “It’s downstairs. Exactly where she left it.”

Bucky nodded once, grateful, and padded down the stairs with the familiarity of someone who had spent more of his childhood in that basement than in his own house. The door creaked open and he stood still for a second, eyes scanning the room.

Everything was untouched.

The string lights still dangled above the desk. Your old records were stacked beside your stereo. A dried-up nail polish bottle lay toppled near the rug. His chest tightened with something too big to name.

The scrapbook was on the shelf, tucked right where she said it would be. He pulled it down gently, thumbing through the pages. There it was, your dream house.

Pages and pages of magazine clippings, messy handwriting, tiny doodles in the margins. Crown molding, wraparound porch. Big kitchen windows. Soft lighting in the living room. A fireplace.

And there, right at the front, circled three times in pink highlighter, a pink front door.

He swallowed hard, a shaky breath catching in his throat as he closed the book and clutched it to his chest. “Got it,” he called, heading back upstairs.

Your mom was standing at the counter, pouring herself a new cup of coffee. She turned when she saw the book in his hands. “You find it?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah.”

She eyed him carefully and curiously, then asked softly, “Is there anything specific you need it for?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared down at the worn cover of the scrapbook. He met her eyes. “I’m building a house.”

She nodded, smiling knowingly. “I know, everyone knows that.” 

“No,” he said, stepping forward, voice thick. “I mean… I’m building that house. Every page, every corner, every window. Right down to that pink front door.”

Her breath caught. “Bucky…”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know it’s crazy. But it’s hers. It’s always been hers and if she ever wants to come back… I want it to be waiting. Just how she dreamed it, she deserves to have them all come true.” 

Your mom’s eyes welled with tears she didn’t wipe away. She walked to him, placing a hand gently over his heart. “That girl,” she said, her voice soft but strong, “was always safe with you. Even when she didn’t know it. I think, deep down, she built this dream for the two of you long before she even understood it.”

Bucky swallowed thickly. “There’s no one else for me. There never was. If it takes the rest of my life, I’ll keep building for her.”

Your mom blinked through a watery smile. “Then build, Bucky. Build the hell out of it.”

He hugged her before he left. A tight, grateful embrace that said all the things he couldn’t.

He walked straight to the local hardware store, placed the scrapbook on the counter, pointed to that pink door, and said, “I need this color matched exactly. It’s important.”

The employee gave him a look.

Bucky smiled. “She’s worth it.”

----

The walk home is quiet.

Your coffee, now melted, sits heavy in your hand. Each step feels weighted, the pavement beneath you echoing the turmoil within. The events of the past twenty-four hours swirl in your mind, conversations, revelations, and the looming discussion ahead.

As you approach the familiar steps of your home, your eyes fixate on the red door. Memories flood back, the playful debate about its color, your desire for pink, and the compromise that led to this shade of red. It was just a door then, but now it stands as a symbol of choices made and paths altered.

Taking a steadying breath, you grasp the handle and step inside. The house is enveloped in an unsettling silence, the kind that amplifies the sound of your own heartbeat.

In the kitchen, Steve leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. Shadows under his eyes speak of a sleepless night. When his gaze meets yours, emotions flicker, relief, pain, uncertainty.

You close the door softly behind you, the sound resonating in the stillness.

“Hey,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steve’s eyes search yours, a storm of feelings evident but unspoken. The weight of the moment presses down, making the space between you feel vast.

Breaking the silence, you ask, “Where’s Lily?”

“At my mom’s,” he replies, his voice steady but distant.

You nod, absorbing the information, then gesture toward the living room. “Have you opened your birthday gifts yet?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet.”

A small, bittersweet smile touches your lips. “You should.”

Moving to the neatly stacked presents, you pick up the one you chose for him. Holding it out, you say, “Lily has one for you too, but she insisted on giving it to you herself.”

Steve hesitates, then takes the package from your hands. Carefully unwrapping it, he reveals a vintage watch, his father’s that you’d taken to be restored. His breath catches, fingers tracing the familiar yet renewed timepiece.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says, emotion thick in his voice.

Meeting his gaze, you reply, “Of course I did, Steve.”

A heavy pause lingers before he speaks again. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“I know,” you whisper, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

He exhales deeply. “This is hard.”

“It is,” you agree, voice trembling. “But why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

Steve’s jaw tightens. “Would it have changed anything?”

“You don’t know that,” you counter, stepping closer. “We owed it to each other to try.”

His eyes flash with a mix of frustration and sorrow. “There was no talking to you about it. You would’ve shut it down.”

“Because I believed in us,” you say, voice rising. “I thought we were worth fighting for.”

He runs a hand through his hair, exasperated. “But deep down, you wanted to be with him.”

Stunned, you take a step back. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” he challenges, eyes locking onto yours. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. The way he looks at you.”

Tears well up, blurring your vision. “Steve, I never—”

“Did you sleep with him last night?” he interrupts, the question hanging heavy in the air.

Shaking your head vehemently, you respond, “No. We’re still married. I have decency.”

He sighs, some tension leaving his shoulders. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

Swallowing hard, you ask, “Is this really what you want?”

He looks away, voice barely audible. “It’s not about want. It’s about need. We can’t keep living a lie.”

“And Lily?” you whisper, the thought of your daughter causing a fresh wave of pain.

“She’ll always be your daughter,” Steve says softly, his voice steady but sad. His eyes hold yours, unwavering. “We’ll figure out custody, together. But she deserves parents who are honest with her, and with themselves.”

You nod slowly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“So this is happening?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “This is happening.”

The silence that follows is thick and heavy. You feel it settle in your chest, low and aching.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, your voice cracking a little. “I’ve never…” You trail off, your breath starting to pick up, panic pressing lightly against your ribs.

He steps forward a little, nodding. “I know, bab—” he stops himself, clears his throat. “I know. I have a meeting later today with my lawyer. You can come with me, if you want.”

You hesitate. “Do I… need a lawyer?”

He shakes his head, gently. “I’m not taking anything from you. I’m not going after you. We just need to figure out the house… and custody.” He says it like it hurts him to say it out loud. Maybe it does.

You nod again, trying to keep your voice steady. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll come.”

Another pause.

“When—how are we telling Lily?” you ask, and your voice breaks just slightly on her name.

Steve lets out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping as he rubs the back of his neck. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

The weight of it lingers in the space between you. The reality, the ending.

And the beginning of something else..

The room feels colder, the reality of your unraveling marriage settling in. Yet, amidst the heartbreak, there’s a sliver of understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of love lost and the hope for individual healing.

The red door remains closed behind you, but its significance has shifted. It’s no longer just a symbol of compromise but a testament to a chapter ending, making way for new beginnings.

------

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cracked sidewalks. A light breeze picked at your sleeves, carrying the smell of grass and summer dust.

You didn’t say much at first.

Not after Bucky ran them off those older boys who thought they were so tough, who called you names and pushed you too hard off the monkey bars. Not after you watched him march straight up to them, fists balled and fire in his little chest, yelling louder than you’d ever heard him yell. You didn’t know a person could make other people back down like that.

He didn’t throw a punch, not this time but the look in his eyes was enough.

Now you were walking home together, backpacks heavy on your shoulders, the silence not uncomfortable… just full. You kept your eyes on the sidewalk cracks, blinking away the last few tears you hadn’t wanted him to see.

Bucky glanced over and saw the way your lip trembled.

Without a word, he stopped walking, nudged your arm, and held out his hand. “Gimme.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your backpack.”

“No,” you mumbled, hugging the strap tighter to your shoulder. “I’m fine.”

Bucky tilted his head. “I can tell you’re just saying that.”

You sniffled. “It’s not that heavy.”

He didn’t say anything  just reached over, gently tugged the strap from your shoulder, and swung it onto his own. Now he was carrying both his and yours, his little arms sticking out like a scarecrow’s. But he didn’t complain. He just grinned.

“You’ll get used to me looking out for you,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re gonna be best friends forever.”

You stopped walking, blinking up at him. “Forever’s a long time.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well. So is the rest of your life. Might as well spend it with someone cool like me.”

You giggled, the sound surprising you, light and sudden. Bucky smiled wider like it was the only thing he wanted in the whole world.

Quietly, you said, “Thank you… for helping me.”

His grin softened into something smaller, gentler. He reached down and brushed some dirt off your elbow with his sleeve.

“Always,” he said. 

---

The room smells like weak coffee and institutional carpet cleaner. Bucky stands in the corner for a beat too long, his hand flexing where flesh meets metal. The air is quieter than usual today, thicker maybe or maybe it’s just him.

Sam’s voice breaks through the hum, gentle and low. “Hey,” he says, clapping Bucky’s shoulder. “You good? She okay?” 

Bucky exhales through his nose. “Yeah. She’s good too… as good as she can be.” His voice is rough, but steady. “She’s strong.”

Sam nods. “She is.” He pauses, then adds, “I stayed with Steve last night. Helped clean up.”

Bucky just nods, eyes not quite meeting his. “That was good of you.”

“Yeah… Steve doesn’t really have anyone else right now.”

Bucky finally looks over. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to.

Sam nudges him toward the circle of chairs. “Come on, let’s sit.”

The group leader, a woman named Irene smiles softly when she sees them. “Glad you’re both here,” she says.

Everyone settles in, some shifting in their seats like they’ve been carrying the weight of this week on their backs.

One of the newer guys, Tom starts. He talks about last night. The fireworks. “They were loud,” he says. “But I was with people. Good people. That helped.”

Sam nods along. “Same, I was at a party,” he says. “Weird, I know. But being around friends, old and new… it helped ground me.”

Bucky doesn’t speak at first. Irene gives him a moment before gently asking, “James? Anything you’d like to share?”

He swallows thickly. His fingers twitch where they rest on his knee.

“I’m building a house,” he says, voice quiet. Gravel-thick. “Out on a piece of land I bought.”

There’s a small murmur of interest, encouraging nods.

Bucky keeps his eyes down. “Some days… my arm doesn’t work the way I need it to. It locks up or it just… forgets it’s part of me, I can't feel it or I feel it too much and I get so angry. I hate it. I wanna stop.”

His voice falters, but he breathes in deep.

“But then I remember why I’m doing it. Who I’m doing it for and the rage passes.” He shakes his head, jaw tightening. “But it still hurts and I don’t get why. Everything’s supposed to be healed, it’s frustrating.”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Irene speaks, soft and certain. “Because physical healing isn’t the same as emotional healing. You can’t metal-plate over grief, James. It’s okay that it still hurts.”

After the session, Sam falls into step beside him. “Why didn’t you tell me it was still that bad?”

Bucky shrugs. “Didn’t want to think about it, didn’t wanna act like anything was wrong.”

Sam looks over. “Talking about it, that’s how you move forward, man.”

They step out into the sunlight. It’s warmer now. Lighter.

“Come on,” Sam says, nudging his shoulder. “I know a place with good brunch.”

Bucky pulls out his phone as they walk and sees your name light up his screen.

Y/N: Meeting with Steve’s lawyer soon.

He replies quickly.

Bucky: You okay?

Y/N: As okay as I can be. How’d the meeting go?

Bucky: Heavy, but good. Think it helped.

Y/N: I’m glad you went.

Bucky: I’d do anything you asked me to. 

Bucky tucks the phone back into his pocket, a little less weighed down than when the day started.

“Still good to eat?” Sam asks.

Bucky nods. “Yeah, let’s go.”

---

The sun hung low in the sky, draping the backyard in a golden haze. It was the kind of evening that wrapped itself around you like a blanket, slow, honey-warm, and infinite in the way only perfect days could be.

Lily’s giggles echoed across the lawn as she bounces wildly on the trampoline, her curls flying, cheeks flushed with the kind of joy only kids seemed to know how to carry. The air smelled like cut grass, grilled veggies, and the faintest trace of Steve’s cologne.

You were sitting on the patio, knees pulled to your chest, a glass of lemonade sweating beside you. Steve was at the grill, sleeves rolled up, spatula in hand, but his eyes were only half on the food because the rest of him was still tethered to you.

“You watching her?” you called.

“I’m watching both my girls,” he said, giving you that crooked grin that always made your stomach do that dumb little flip. “Only one of you’s at risk of setting something on fire, though.”

You laughed, full and light, and he grinned wider at the sound. It was easy, being in love with Steve back then. Before everything shifted. Before the weight of what you’d lost, who you’d lost came crashing back, because it always did.

He brought the food over on a plate a few minutes later, and the two of you sat side by side, your feet touching under the table. Lily kept bouncing in the distance, shrieking every time she caught a little more air than expected.

Steve nudged your leg. “We make good things, y’know?”

You tilted your head. “Like what? Burgers?”

He chuckled. “Like this… life.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, hair a little mussed, sunburn just starting to dust his nose, eyes impossibly blue and impossibly kind.

“We do,” you murmured, heart heavy with gratitude and something else. Something soft and aching. “We really do.”

He leaned closer, resting his arm behind your chair, his hand brushing the back of your neck. “Do you ever think,” he asked quietly, “that we’re gonna look back on this one day and realize it was the best time of our lives?”

Your breath caught. Not because you disagreed. But because somewhere deep down, you knew he was right. “I think about it all the time.”

And for a moment, you weren’t worried about the ghosts that would one day resurface, or the way the future would rearrange all of this. You were just two people in love, in a sunlit backyard, watching your daughter fly.

It was perfect.

Steve’s hand reached for yours, “Good thing we have the rest of our lives together.”

[ahhnini]

better things - cheater!ex! rafe cameron x reader one shot

part two / part three

synopsis - after rafe cheats on you, he wants a second chance. unfortunately for him, you’re onto better things now

warnings - rafe is lowkey an asshole here, arguing, cheating ( i don’t condone it!! )

word count - 1.2k

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

ask box is open!

tbh i love when my interests mix so here’s some aespa with a fic lol

divider credits - aqualogia on tumblr

initially, you had a rough time after the breakup with rafe. tissues from crying were littered all over your room, you ghosted your friends, and you’re pretty sure you sold out the ice cream from the local grocery store.

turns out, he had cheated. you should’ve known something was up when his text responses became dry, didn’t want to go out in public for dates, and was always on his phone.

when you received the text from him saying, “I need to talk to you,” you panicked. your text response however, remained calm. you both met up, he confessed he cheated on you and wanted to break things off. you tried your best keeping a poker face but he knew you too well, knowing you were about to break down. he then had the audacity to give you “one final hug” before speeding off on his bike, leaving you wallowing in your tears. he never even apologized.

now, here you are, sunbathing with a couple of your friends. it’s a small island, so you occasionally see rafe with his new girlfriend, sofia. or was it sofie? you honestly can’t remember, and that was good. you’ve moved on, healed, realized that you were only with rafe because he saw you at your weakest.

as you watch your friends go in the water to cool off from the heat, you notice a familiar blond boy walking along the beach, alone. you take a glance and lay down on your beach towel again, not paying attention to him. until he calls out your name.

you sit up, and rafe stands over you. you want to see if you can ignore him, so you just wave him off, but you hear him scoff. it was awkward, of course, your ex was standing right in front of of you after almost a year of no contact. you decide to speak up, breaking the silence, “yeah?” and he bluntly says “we…broke up,” your eyebrows furrow. “okay? what does that have to do with me?” you respond. he sighs, “can we talk in private?” “alright, make it quick”

you both walk to a more secluded area, and he begins speaking, “we broke up because of you,” he sighs. “because of me? what part do I play in your relationship?” you cross your arms, scoffing. “sofia thought I was still hung up on you, and she was right, I was,” he looks at you, there’s shame in his eyes, and guilt in his words. you couldn’t believe what he was saying. he continued, “listen, I know I cheated on you, it was a shitty thing for me to do. my head wasn’t right, and…I took you for granted.”

you roll your eyes and scoff again, “yeah, you did take me for granted rafe…you knew how much I loved you, you knew how much I cherished our relationship…for you to throw that away-” he interrupts, “I know, and i’m willing to give it another shot. if you would just let me-” it was now your turn to interrupt, “excuse me? do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? you were the one who broke my heart in the first place, and now you’re crawling back to me? i’m sorry rafe, I won’t ever get back with you. never in a million years.” he sighed, defeated.

he hated seeing you like this, so happy. after that day on the beach, he tried to talk to you again via text. and again, and again, and again, until you finally hit the block button on his contact.

your paths crossed again at the wreck, you were talking with someone, a new friend perhaps. you were smiling and giggling as you ate one of your fries. of course he noticed you first, and his heart leaped. he wanted to come up to you and strike a conversation again, but he knew he would just get shut out by you once more. he wanted to get out of the restaurant as soon as possible, so he ordered and anxiously tapped his foot while mr. carrera fulfilled his order. as soon as his number was announced, he took the bag of food and rushed to his car, not caring that he was being stared at.

it hurt his pride, of course. he knows he shouldn’t be reacting this way, he has no right to be acting this way. but god, did he miss you. he missed the way he basically had you wrapped around your finger, you were so willing to drop everything for him at the snap of his fingers. sofia wasn't the same. she set him straight, didn't enable his behavior, and he hated that. rafe always got things his way, he couldn't control sofia the way he controlled you.

word gets around fast in kildare country. it didn't take long for rafe to find out that you have someone new. he quickly came to terms that you've finally moved on. however, he wasn't prepared to see you and your new boyfriend in person so soon.

you were living your best life, your skin was glowing, and you had the best boyfriend in the world, jason. he was the juxtaposition of rafe, a breath of fresh air. you two were having brunch at the country club, watching some of the members out on the field, playing golf or also having a nice meal. as you take another bite out of your avocado toast, you see a familiar trio walk in. you really wish this island wasn't so small so you wouldn't see him that often. it annoyed you more than it bothered you. you put your toast down on the plate, then spoke to your boyfriend, "i'm gonna use the restroom," he nodded his head. you stood up from your chair and went inside the building.

while on your way to the restroom, you ran into rafe. it had been six months after you blocked him, and you resisted rolling your eyes when he waved and smiled at you. he started walking towards you, and you hoped he knew how much of a stupid decision he was making. probably not, you thought. he was now across you, and you hear him speak up, "how are you?" "fine," you say, dryly. "heard some things goin' around town." rafe says, trying to keep the conversation going. "yeah, I have a new boyfriend," your voice is monotone. "oh, does he treat you better than me?" he asks. you roll your eyes and try your best to not just walk away from the conversation.

"yes, he does, rafe. why haven't you moved on?" your voice was slightly raised, and he sighs, "you know why I haven't moved on. I need you, y/n. please-" "rafe. i've moved on. you should too." you start walking away to the restroom, and he looks at you, defeated. you knew your worth, and you knew you deserved someone better than rafe.

he took one last glance at you before going back to topper and kelce. he sighed as your words hung over him. you moved onto better things now.

[nostarfights]

Acted On Impulse

Pairing: exboyfriend!Steve Harrington X fem! Reader

Summary: After an unexpected breakup, a certain cat brings you and Steve back together.

Warnings: A break up, Steve and the reader having a cat together, exes to lovers, crying, hugging, heartbreak, mentions of an argument, a little cursing

Word Count: 2k

a/n: i got the inspo to write this from a fanfic prompt generator and the song made your mark by hail the sun lol. anyway i hope y'all like this!

the gif below does not belong to me

A sudden gentle knock at the front door to your apartment causes your heartbeat to speed up a bit. Your heart sped up because you know that knock meant that your ex boyfriend, Steve, was here to drop off your shared cat, Dorito for the second time since you had broken up almost two weeks ago. The pain and heartbreak was still pretty fresh at this point, making it a lot harder to even look Steve in the eyes. After all, he had been the one to end your relationship.

But neither of you had wanted to give away Dorito so you created a schedule where you each would spend a few days with the cat before giving him back to the other person. 

Your eyes teared up almost right away the past few times you had seen him after the break up, which is why you made these drop offs as quick as you could. You didn’t want to make Dorito or Steve wait a while though, knowing that Steve’s Tuesday morning shift at Family Video would be starting soon. So you took a deep breath and walked up to the door, opening it quickly and letting Steve in.

“Hey.” he quickly said as he walked into what was once the apartment you shared and set the carrier down on the couch, the two of you only making eye contact very briefly. But that was all it took to make your eyes tear up for what felt like the millionth time since you guys had broken up.

“Hey.” you quietly replied as you looked down at Dorito’s carrier, your arms wrapped around yourself in a protective manner. Steve then softly smiled at you before he let Dorito out, the fluffy orange cat now walking around on the couch before getting settled on his favorite spot. He fell asleep there within a couple minutes, making both of you brightly smile at him before this sweet moment quickly ended and Steve started to leave.

“I’ll drop him off at Robin and Nancy’s place Friday evening.” you told him as you stood in your doorway and he stood on your doorstep. “Sounds good.” he quickly replied with a nod of his head, his hands in his pockets. And then he was gone. 

Every single second of every day since the two of you broke up, Steve felt extreme guilt for breaking up with you. He could see how much the break up had broken both of your hearts and if he could take it all back, he would, without second thought. He regretted it the very second those words came out of his mouth. You had both been so sad, emotional and heartbroken since that night. Steve wanted you back so badly but he didn’t know if that’s what you wanted so he played along with your current situation for now. And he knew that if he wanted to have any kind of relationship with you in the future, he would have to wait until you both healed. 

Which he had convinced himself he was fine with, but that was far from the truth. Every time you had exchanged Dorito so far, he wanted to get on his knees and beg for you to forgive him and get back with him. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about this, after all he had work in just a few minutes and he didn’t want to have to clock in late again because he had started to sob in his car again. So, he wiped his eyes, put on his Family Video vest and went inside as if he wasn’t still heartbroken over losing his soulmate.

You were in a similar place mentally as you got ready for work in your apartment that morning, so close to calling out again. But unfortunately, you just couldn’t afford to miss another day. You missed Steve so much too, more than anything else in the entire world. But this was what Steve wanted, he just didn’t think the two of you could work out anymore and you were trying to come to peace with this, but it wasn’t working.

Trying to get over him only made you sadder and long for him even more than you had been before. You just loved him so much and it hurt to know that you weren’t his girlfriend anymore. You had lost your soulmate and as far as you were aware, there was nothing you could do to ever get him back.

As for what ended your relationship in the first place, that day you’d both had horrible days at work and unfortunately ended up taking it out on each other. And at this point, neither of you could really remember what had even started the argument. All you knew that was by the end of it, Steve was saying that your relationship just wasn’t going to work out anymore. When you first heard those words, it was as if your heart had immediately shattered in your chest and Steve had tried to speak up and take those words back, but it was too late. So you told him to get out and go to Robin and Nancy’s. Which he did, only returning the next day while you were at work to get most of his things, leaving his keys to the apartment on the kitchen counter on his way out. 

You’d called him the day after to arrange that schedule with Dorito, feeling like Steve still deserved to see Dorito because he was Steve’s cat too. 

–Time Skip: 7 hours later–

That night after Steve had gotten back to Robin and Nancy’s place and changed into some comfier clothes, he went back out and sat down there on their couch. Robin joined him a few minutes later, a concerned look on her face. Without either of you having to say anything to her, she already knew how terribly this break up had been affecting both of you. Both her and Nancy absolutely hated seeing their friends this way, so they came up with a plan to get you back together. 

Tonight, Robin would hopefully be able to convince Steve to talk things out with you when you came over Friday evening to drop Dorito off. 

“How are you feeling?” Robin gently asked as she looked over at him, knowing how fragile Steve still was. Steve’s breath became shaky right away, “Not good, Robin. I miss her so bad, I need her back in my life. I feel like I can’t live without her, it just hurts too much.” Steve answered, tears quickly rolling down his cheeks while he began to rest his head in his hands. This prompted Robin to scoot closer to him and wrap her arm around his back, softly pulling him to rest his head on her shoulder while she spoke once more. 

She nodded her head, “I understand, Steve. But the next time she comes here, I think you should at least try to talk things out with (y/n).” Robin suggested while she gently started to rub Steve’s back. “There’s no point, she’ll never listen to me now. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes when I did it, she looked so broken and hurt. Like she could never trust me again.” Steve as he continued to cry while he shook his head. “That’s not true, she’ll listen. I know she will and I doubt that she wants you to be out of her life forever. So the best you can do is just talk it out and communicate how you’re both feeling.” Robin assured him, still attempting to get Steve to go with her and Nancy’s plan. 

He let out a deep sigh then lifted his head from Robin’s shoulder, “Fine, it’s worth a shot I guess.” he told her, causing Robin to let out a little sigh of her own. She smiled at his answer and softly bumped her shoulder against his, “Yeah, that’s the spirit.” she said, somewhat sarcastically. Which made Steve laugh a little for the first time since you and him had broken up, making Robin feel better too. 

–Time Skip: 3 days later–

It was now Friday evening, which meant that your time was up with Dorito for now and you had to get him back into his carrier. He meowed the whole way there while his carrier sat in the passenger seat, his meows making you frown a bit as you drove. “I know, I miss him too. Hopefully we’ll all be back together living in one apartment again soon, Dorito.” you assured him while you pulled up in front of Robin and Nancy’s apartment. 

You then turned off the car after you parked, got Dorito, got out of the car and ran up the stairs to their second floor apartment. Once entering, you quickly said your hellos to everyone as you let Dorito out. While you did this, Steve stood in front of you and said a complete sentence to you for the first time since you made this arrangement. “Could we go into another room and talk, please?” he asked, pure sincerity in his brown eyes. Your breath caught in your throat at this, “Yeah sure, Steve.” you answered, still feeling a bit shocked as you looked into his eyes without tearing up for once. 

Dorito followed the two of you to the room Steve had been staying in and you all sat down on the bed in there. Steve took a deep breath then looked over into your eyes again, “I’ve been thinking a lot and I think it would be a good idea for us to talk things out. Y’know to communicate our feelings and stuff.” he told you as he gestured with his hands, his awkwardness making you chuckle.

Steve smiled back at you right away, feeling as if this chuckle had started to put his heart back together. You nodded, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. You go first then.” you replied, not knowing where to start while you both fidgeted with your hands in your laps. 

Steve took a deep breath then started to speak, “I know it probably doesn’t seem like it, but I really regret breaking up with you, (y/n). I regretted saying those awful words the second they came out of my mouth and I wish I could take it all back. Which sounds really cliche, but it's true. Those words came out in the heat of the moment, that wasn’t what I meant to say. They slipped out of my mouth and I wish that they never did. I miss you so fucking much, I’ve been so destroyed by our break up. I truly don’t know how to live without you. All I’ve been doing these past two weeks is laying around feeling broken and like a part of me has been ripped away, like my heart has been ripped out of my chest,” he said, pausing while he started to cry and Dorito hopped up on his lap to comfort him, “I love you so so much, baby, more than anyone or anything else and I am so so so sorry for what I did. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes. Just please, take me back. You’re my soulmate, I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.” Steve said, ending his apology which made you both cry. 

You looked over at Steve for a moment as silence took over the room, swiftly moved Dorito then tackled him with a hug. He instantly hugged you back, tightly, not expecting this reaction from you at all.

“That’s all I wanted to hear, Stevie,” you began as you pulled away from him, “And I’m sorry too, I’ve been such a mess without you. I love you so much and while it’s going to take some time for me to forgive you, I want you back too. If you’ll have me.” you replied, making Steve grin as bright as the sun. “Of course I will, angel.” Steve said, followed by a light kiss to your lips.

You then looked at each other with love and relief in your eyes as you held hands, glad that you were back together and that you could both get rid of that heartbreak. And in this moment, you were grateful for Dorito too because if it wasn’t for him, you probably would’ve never talked to Steve again.

NAVIGATION

[snowsinterlude]

I'm so sorry if I'm bothering you but I'm EATING UP that incel modern Coryo😫

He'd be absolutely awful after one (1) failed situationship he had and he's still a virgin, now he's always sneering at women and even men who he considers to be 'a threat' to him and his fragile masculinity and control issues lol

Coryo would be awful with you too at first! Or at least try. He'd be so so pissy, always throwing a hissy fit whenever you wear something 'too revealing' for his delicate palate and in reality he still kinda can't believe the fact that a girl willingly interacted with him💀 I like to think that on one side he can't believe it and on the other his entitlement rears its head and Coryo's like 'well yeah DUH'

The one thing that would shut boy up would be wrangling him down and shoving his face against your tit for him to suckle and finally let there be peace and quiet from his entitled yapping😭

anon i think you are a literal genius for that cause not only do i agree with you but i think coryo is the biggest sucker for titties on a general basis. thank you!!

it was starting to become an habit. you simply couldn't help but want peace whenever he opened his mouth to talk shit and at this point you were thinking that this was beclming psychic cause you always know when hes gonna start running his mouth around about your choice of clothes.

now, there were two sides of coriolanus snow who were two controversial if you thought about it too much. and you did. you nearly couldn't believe the man who was sucking on your nipple while massaging your boobs was the same man who would call you out on your choice of clothes everyday.

it started simple. a 'whore' here, a 'slut' there. it didn't really matter to you. what did matter was that he would spend his entire day pissing you off about it.

coryo is a very sweet boy, of course, you were the one who was dressed up like a worthless homewrecker cunt everyday. you were at fault. you should be grateful he was helping you out on that.

you were such a whore. miniskirts there. dresses who never went past half your soft looking thighs here. and of course, your tops and croppeds and your lack of a bra everywhere. his mind felt dizzy just looking at your soft timid nipples poking through your top's fabric.

don't get him wrong!! he is very sweet with his cousing tigris and his grandma'am. it just happens that some blonde bitch broke his heart and he decided that no female were worth it and all of them were whores. except for the women he lived with, this being his cousin and his grandma'am.

"aren't you ashamed? don't you have any sense of embarassment?" he asked you randomly one day.

"about what?" you raised your perfectly shaped brow, eyes on his, drowning on the pretty blue of his devilish misogynistic eyes.

"you're dressed like a whore! look at you- your skirt is above your knee, is not even close to it! your shirt is too tight and i- i'm seeing everything! you're almost naked!" he said, pointing to everywhere on your body but not even looking to your face. and he couldn't. he knew his dick would betray him the moment he saw your lashes flutter to him. "i'm not going out with you looking like that"

"corio, let's just go, okay?"

"no, i'm not-"

"coriolanus." damn. he shivered right there, gulping down hard on the way you looked at him. he knew it was decided already, you weren't going out at all. "couch. sit."

and he did. like a obedient golden retriever who knew that he made a mess. he was crying internally, afraid you'd leave him because of his kind words. you were like, supposed to be grateful for it. he was helping you out.

but you didn't dump him, for his surprise, you layed his head on your lap and caressed his hair. then the thing escalated a bit and his mouth was sucking on the soft tissue of your breast while your hand slowly pumped his cock.

"i know you don't want me to go out looking like that because you think is slutty, but we both know the real bitch in heat in this room is you," you said, as he dizzily nodded with his mouth too occupied to say anything. "you will have to learn how to behave yourself from now on if you want me to be with you still"

he hummed against your breast, his cock twitching on your soft skilled hand while he recieved all your words quietly, dumbly.

"you're not cumming today." he didn’t fight it. he knew he would eventually cum on your hand and cry for overstimulation because that was his punishment.

his punishment being overstimulation was more like a payment. for you, actually, because you loved seeing him cry while your warm walls squeezed his cock tightly with you telling what a bitch he was, saying his tantrums were on purpose cause he knew what would wait for him all while he tries not to cum right on sight.

[damiansgoodgirll]

could you please maybe write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where both became parents to an beautiful baby boy, and the first night at home with the baby reader witnessed that Damian is taking care of the Little One by holding him in his arms standing by the window and telling his son the story how reader and him met and that he was blown away from her the first time he saw her and reader comes to him and wrapped her arms around him and tells him that those feelings were mutual at that time and Damian thanks her for not only making him the happiest guy on earth but also an Dad.

this request was so cute 🤧 + i decided to make it what i always wanted part 3 because it fits perfectly with the storyline

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

this could be read as a stand alone but if you want to read the other two parts, here we go:

what i always wanted, part 2

‼️mention of pregnancy and child birth (i never had a baby and pregnancies scare me, don’t judge lol - so i don’t know how accurate this could be)

what i always wanted pt. 3

“i think my waters just broke” you said standing there in the middle of the kitchen, frozen on your spot.

“what?” rhea looked at your with terror in her eyes, especially when she saw the water down at your feet.

“my waters just broke rhea…” you said, trying not to panic. this wasn’t supposed to happen now. you were only at the eight month, you weren’t ready.

“what-what do we do?” she tried not to panic too.

this wasn’t how you imagined it. you imagined being already at the hospital, being taken care of by the doctor and nurses, and, most importantly, being there with damian and not rhea. she was your best friend but seeing the way she was panicking gave you more anxiety that what you already had.

damian was training and, even if he refused to let you, you had almost to kick him out of the house. he wanted to stay by your side in case “something happened” but, the baby was supposed to come in three weeks, not now, so you imagined that being with rhea wasn’t a big deal. he reluctantly accepted and left you under rhea’s supervision but he was checking on you every ten minutes, making sure you were okay.

“i don’t know rhea, maybe drive me to the hospital?” you didn’t mean to sound so rude but you couldn’t explain the pain you were experiencing so, in that moment, being kind and caring was the last of your worries.

“oh yeah yeah, let’s go, let me grab a towel for you..” she got up from the couch and ran to the bathroom to get you a couple of towels and then she helped you into her car.

she was probably panicking more than you did.

“should i call damian?” she asked, knowing the answer but, she wasn’t gonna lie, you were scaring her, and not because you were about to give birth but because you were mean.

“please do…” you whispered. you were focusing on your breath, in and out, despite the huge pain you were feeling and the fear of everything not going how it was supposed to be.

“he’s not answering…”

“try again! please rhea…i don’t know if i can’t do this without him…” maybe the hormones, maybe you getting more and more agitated, but you started to cry and rhea couldn’t do nothing to help. not even her comforting words - that usually worked - were working this time.

in the meantime she got you safe and sound at the hospital.

finally you were taken care of. brought to your room, changed into the hospital vest and now doctors and nurses where helping you getting ready to deliver your baby.

rhea was by your side for all the time damian was missing. when she called him for the tenth time he finally answered and he almost had a heart attack when she told him that you were in labor. he changed and with finn he drove - like crazy - towards the hospital.

he didn’t want to miss the birth of his baby but his first thought was you. how scared you must have been being there, laying in an hospital bed and not knowing what’s going on.

when he made it, he ran through the hospital corridors, looking for your room and when he finally saw you, his heart broke. it was clear to him that you were in extreme pain, rhea holding your hand was all the support she gave you as you didn’t want nobody to talk.

“hey love…” he slowly sat next to you, opposite to rhea.

“it’s not how it was supposed to go damian…” you softly cried.

“i know mi amor, i know…but we’re here together…i’ll be with you the whole time okay? rhea is here too and finn is waiting outside, he probably just called dominik so he will be here soon too. you have a big loving family here for you, you are not alone” his words seemed to calm you down a little.

in reality he was more afraid than you were. he knew becoming parents was going to be a big change and, no matter how excited he was, deep down he had a fear of failing.

“it’s not how i imagined it tho…i wanted it to be a perfect and this is a complete chaos” you said making him chuckle.

“well, our little baby wants to come sooner than we thought…are you excited love?”

“i’m terrified right now! plus what if my vagina is gonna break? what do i do?” he sensed you were terrified, and no matter what he said, he couldn’t calm you down.

“i promise you your vagina is not gonna break mi amor”

“how do you know?”

“hey hey love…let’s breathe together…in and out, follow me…” he showed you and you did like he said.

“i’m scared…plus it fucking hurts…”

“everything will be okay…i’ll be with you the whole time hermosa” he gently kissed your cheek.

he wished his arms was made out of titanium because the way you were squeezing his hand when you were giving birth, it was as painful as it was probably for you.

but no matter how broken his hand was - it wasn’t broken, he just liked to be a drama queen - he comforted you and praised you the whole time.

“one last big push y/n…you’re almost there” he softly whispered in your ear before the both of you heard a little cry.

“oh my…” you said, tears streaming down your face.

“congratulation mom and dad, it’s a baby boy” your doctor happily said as she quickly cleaned up your new born and gently laid him in your arms.

“hi baby…” you softly looked at your baby who was still crying but quickly calmed down when he realised where he was. your eyes met up with damian’s. he was crying too, probably more than you were as he was expecting the happiest moment of his life.

“he’s so…” he couldn’t describe it with simple words but somehow you understood.

“i know” you simply said.

a couple of minutes later you were finally getting cleaned up and while damian was giving your son his first bath with the help of a nurse, you decided to close your eyes for a few minutes, feeling relaxed and happy. when damian came back, he put his son to sleep in the little crib near your bed while he smiled at how peaceful you were while sleeping .

once you woke up, you found yourself in a room full of people and filled with happiness and joy. your best friends, damian’s family and your family too. every single person you loved was there to support and help you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

two days at the hospital and you were finally ready to come back home. you hated hospital food, hospital showers and hospital beds, they were the most uncomfortable places for sleeping. so you couldn’t deny how happy you were when you finally laid down on your bed.

the little nursery room you both decorated was perfect for your little boy.

damian has been by your side for everything, even the smallest things. he cooked for you and he helped you showered once you came back home. he knew how tired you were and he didn’t want to put you in any stress. he was there when you were breastfeeding your son, admiring the little guy in your arms.

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of his son and neither could you.

he was perfect.

“i’m so tired” you said yawning, once your son had fallen asleep.

“you should rest a little, i’ll wake you up when dinner is ready okay?” he smiled looking at you and you definitely agreed with him.

you slept for a couple of hours before waking up when you heard a little scream coming from the nursery. you immediately went on your feet and rushed to your son’s bedroom.

“it’s okay baby” you heard damian talking softly “it’s okay…you’re waking up mom with your little screams” he gently laughed, your heart melting at the sight of such sweet scene “you know, i messed up really badly with mommy, there’s a time where i almost lost her…we had this stupid fight - oh right - bad fight, no bad words in front of you little guy, and when she left i felt completely lost and alone…and if i could turn back time i would have never let her go..”

you tried to hold back tears hearing damian’s conversation with your son but you were still very emotional so you let a few tears fall.

“the craziest part is that your mom doesn’t even like wrestling…” he laughed again “but she gave up her career for me…she started working with me, following me everywhere i went and if it wasn’t for her best friend taking her to a wrestling show many years ago, i would have never met her…i know you’re too little to understand this but y/n is the best mom you could have ever ask for…she’s been waiting for you for a while and now that you’re here, we’re going to be the best family for you, i promise you little boy…” damian started to get emotional and before he could have the chance to cry, you stepped in.

“just for your information, i still don’t like wrestling” you said smiling.

“but you love me…” damian smirked.

“i do…”

“i’m so glad you didn’t give up on me love…i love you so much” he smiled at you while gently rocking your son.

“i love you more” you wrapped your arm around his chest and gently laid your head over his shoulder, admiring the little creature you just created.

[seb-reads31]

Hello! I have a juicy one shot request for you today, full of angst!

It's angel dust x male reader and goes as follows:

Reader and angel were both part of the mafia and secretly became a couple for quite some time but reader died in a shootout a couple of years before angel's death and both angel and reader assume that the other got sent to heaven. Many years pass and by pure chance they meet at a bar but after so many decades in hell they don't really recognize eachother (that and the fact that angel is a spider demon dude helps with him not being very similar to his living self), later that night reader is in bed and he realizes "HOLY SHIT WAS THAT ANTHONY" and immediately runs to the hotel to find angel who also just realized that he met reader just a few hours later. They reunite and cry tears of joy after too many years spent alone in hell

Hope this wasn't too long of a request lol, let me know if i broke any of your rules so that next time i'll be more careful, with that said have a nice day!

Cautions - Drug use, shooting, death, cursing, sad angel 😭, mention of angel oding from drugs, MALE READER - fem DNI this is for the gay guys, crying, both sad and happy, reader being a bartender down in hell, Valentino, SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 6, Angel arguing with Valentino

Type - oneshot

Genre - angst to fluff <33

Comments - Nahh, you're good man. No rules broken yet 🤧 BUT OMG I LOVE THIS it's so cute but it's gonna make me wanna cry 😭 (testing out banners, thoughts? Made by me btw in PicsArt) and omg I'm so sorry for being dead 😔 AND, I'm basing this partially on episode 6 where Charlie goes to Heaven. I low-key hate the ending, it feels rushed but I'll probably end up rewriting it later (I'm gonna start adding word counts ISTG)

Till death do us part

Your whole body felt so hot, your heart thumping so loudly in your chest it almost gave you away. You can barely breath, not wanting to give not only your position away, but Anthony's.

It all went wrong.

The information given to both of you was fake, you were set up. They were gonna kill you and him if you were caught. You only had 3 bullets left in your gun, and there were about 5 guys looking for you and Anthony. Shit...

The two of you were hiding behind large crates, trying to come up with a plan and quick. There was an exit to your right, but it would force you to pass by an open area where the guys hunting you down would see you. Trying to make a run for it wouldn't go well, they would just shoot you down. Trying to lay low would just lead to the inevitable, them catching and beating the both of you half to death. But maybe..

"Damnit!" Anthony softly muttered, breaking your line of thought. "What're we gonna do?" All you could do was look at him, with the softest look in your eyes as you told him the only plan you could think of, "We need a distraction."

He was.. confused for a moment, but he quickly caught on as he saw you prepping yourself to run out the opposite way the exit was, but he stopped you by grabbing your shoulder. "I- no! I'm not about to let you get yourself killed just to save my ass!" The trembling hand on your shoulder was an easy sign that he didn't want to leave you here by yourself.

"Anthony, we don't have another choice.." You turned around and placed a hand on his cheek as you continued, "we're sittin' ducks here, and I refuse to let you get caught by these fuckers." There was a determined look in your eyes, but also a softness deep down that showed how much you cared for the mafia boss's son.

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to let you die?" Anthony was on the verge of tears, because he knew you were right, but he didn't want you to get caught by his family's rivals just to get beaten or worse.

"I can escape, you just have to believe in me. Can you do that for me, my angel?" You could feel tears prick your eyes as well, but you forced them back with a soft smile as you leaned your forehead against Anthony's, but all he could do was worry and think the worst. But he nodded, giving you one final passionate kiss before he let you go.

"Don't die on me, got that?" Anthony looked stern, but the tears in his eyes told a different story. As you nodded, you could hear the footsteps and jeers of your rivals get closer, this was your only chance to get Anthony, your angel, out of this mess.

You jumped out, letting your last bullets fly strategically as Anthony ran under the radar, through the door, and into the outside as quickly as he could. Every shot he heard made his heart sink, but he still held out hope. You promised him after all.

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

Angel Dust sat straight up in his bed, panting softly as he woke up from that nightmare. The day he lost his everything.

He didn't notice until fat nuggets licked his face to try and comfort him, but tears were running down his cheeks from the painful memories. He remembered that day like it was just yesterday, even after so many years had passed.

Angel sat up, wiping away any left over tears to start getting ready for the day.

After he finished his morning routine, he slowly walked down the stairs to the main lobby of the Hazbin Hotel and was greeted by Charlie's smiling face and overly excited personality.

Her voice was too loud, considering he was still hungover from the night before, but had a new outlook on life and it was thanks to Husk. "Mornin' Char, we doin' anything today?" Angel yawned, stretching both pairs of arms and arching his back slightly.

"Yep! 'Cause I've got some big news for everyone! Speaking of which, could you sit in the main room until I get everyone? I still need to find Alastor and Husker before I announce it." She looked like she could barely contain her excitement as she ran off before Angel Dust could answer. But he shrugged, sitting down on the plush sofa and chose to scroll through voxtigram to pass the time.

About 10 minutes later, Charlie had arrived with Husker in tow, Alastor appearing from the shadows not too long after. "Alright everyone! Today, I would like to introduce you to.." Charlie paused, to build suspense, until she pulled out a strange looking man from somewhere. You. "Our newest patron!"

You waved, albeit awkwardly at the strange group of sinners. You weren't new to hell, far from it, but there were only a few you really recognized. Husker, your bartending buddy from a few years ago that you met at a bar you worked at. And Alastor, him being the radio demon and all.. But everyone else, as far as you knew, you had no history with.

Before you could try leaving the room to escape the awkwardness, Charlie nudged you slightly. "Go on, introduce yourself!" She was so sweet it was hard to say no, if we're also not counting that Vaggie was staring at you with a small glare.

"Uh, hi?" Is how you started, but continued even after you heard Alastor chuckle. And while Angel couldn't help but feel a little.. off when you said your name, it being very familiar, but he shrugged and put on his classic porn star persona as he introduced himself to you.

"Nice to meetcha~ I'm Angel Dust, but you can call me yours," he winked at you as others groaned but you couldn't help but feel as if he was familiar as well.. it was probably nothing though. You did have a dream about how you died last night, so it's just a weird coincidence.

As everyone else introduced themselves, they began to leave, but the ones that stayed were Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husk sort of as he went back to his bar, and Angel Dust following him. You stay in the main part of the lobby as you converse with Alastor and Charlie, them telling you a bit more about the hotel.

Over at the bar, Angel couldn't help but stare at you, barely even touching his drink. "Alright, why are you staring at the new guy?" As much as Husk prided himself on being able to read people, Angel was throwing him off with how quiet he was being, barely registering that Husk spoke to begin with.

"Huh? Oh, he just.. reminds me of someone." He barely looked at Husk when he answered, keeping his puzzled gaze on you. "From when you were alive?" Husk was curious, and he may or may not've noticed how you looked at Angel Dust when you were introduced to the staff and patrons.

Angel nodded, but let out a small sigh. "Meh, I'll think of who he reminds me of eventually." He chugged the last of his drink before standing up, presumably to go to his room. As he began walking, you couldn't help but watch him, wondering why his voice and demeanor was so familiar.

Alastor noticed, and him being him, decided to poke a little fun at you. "Oh my, are we falling for another patron my good fellow?" His static voice made you jump slightly, as he was just sitting quietly as Charlie rambled on before. But you were quick to shake your head, denying the radio demon's claim.

"No, no. He's just.. familiar is all. Probably just deja vu. Besides, my partner when I was alive might be in heaven, he's the only one for me." There was a small smile on your face as you thought of your sweet Anthony, completely unaware of what the future held.

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

A few days had passed, and you and Angel Dust had become pretty good friends. While he would flirt with you on occasion, it was all in good fun.

Everyone in the hotel could see how close the two of you had gotten in the short time you've been here, it would've been impossible to notice! How you two just, clicked. No one could understand why, but you balanced each other nicely.

Angel was already falling into a routine with you, unconsciously of course, but there was always a lingering guilt in the back of his mind as he thought of his lover when he was alive. He was redeeming himself for him after all. No matter what he did over those days, he couldn't help but develop feelings for you.

You felt the same way as Angel, unknowingly. You loved Anthony with all your heart, and just knew he was up in heaven waiting for you. But Angel.. well, he was not only drop dead gorgeous, but he showed his real self with you. It was hard to not fall for Angel's charismatic nature, and it reminded you of Anthony's personality.. odd, but not uncommon. Sometimes people have the same humor, way of talking, and favorite drink as others that they never even knew. Right?

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

It's been a week now, and you and the gang are at the club! Paid by Charlie while she was up in heaven of course.

The night was great! You all were enjoying yourselves with some shots, and watching poor Sir Pentious fail to woo Cherrie Bomb several times.

During the night, you and Angel being the most sober were trying to keep Nifty under wraps as she continuously causes chaos. First she starts raking some loan shark's shots into a garbage bag, then she finds the cleaning closet and tries to steal the chemicals hiding in there, then she's left with Husk who is forced to baby sit her.

And now, Angel and Cherri were getting into a small disagreement, along with Husker.

"Y'know, we can do this fucking shit every fuckin' night!" Cherri yelled over the music in the club. It's clear that Angel was done, Husker included and Niffty was drunk.

But even with Angel's sour expression, she continued. "You don't have to spend all of your off hours 'working on yourself' you little bitch."

Husky was quick to shut that down though. He knows the issue, and he expressed that. "The hotel isn't a problem in his life, it's-" he paused, not quite finding the word as Angel looked away, but quickly saw a man that he truly hated. Before Husk could say something, the spider sinner spoke with a grave tone. "Valentino." "Exactly!" Husker finally continued, unaware of who Angel saw, and only you put the pieces together, but didn't want to interrupt what was happening. Not until you needed to though.

"So why don't you-" Husk continued, trying to give Cherri a piece of his mind before Angel stopped him again. "No, Valentino," and he pointed to a large crowd, the moth overlord in the center of it with two others in his arms.

Angel was clearly disturbed, seeing his boss at the club when he's supposed to be relaxing. "Let's get the fuck out of here- come on." He began walking and you followed suit, wanting to make sure Angel wasn't alone. Husker and Cherri can handle themselves after all. But.. "Where's Niffty?"

The question startled Husker, who was holding the bug just moments ago, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her.. going towards Valentino, muttering the word 'bad boy' along the way. "Uhh, Angel?" You quickly pointed out where she went, and Angel's eyes widened even further.

Angel immediately went after her, pushing through the crowd as best as he could, you following right after him. You've heard a story or two from Angel himself about how awful the overlord was, and you refused to let him get his hands on the spider you've gotten so close to.

He was angry, not his usual charming self, pushing and cursing at people with a quieter voice trying to get to Niffty. When he did catch her, it stopped him right Infront of Valentino himself, the man not sparing a second to greet Angel Dust.

"Holy shit, Angel Dust? What are you doing here baby?~" he cooed, surprised to see his star at the club as well. "You didn't get enough dick today?" He made a suggestive gesture, clearly teasing Angel even though he knew how hard he worked him earlier.

"Funny." Angel said in a monotone voice, nowhere near amused with the joke or with Valentino. You could tell that he just wanted to take Niffty and get back to the hotel. But Valentino wasn't about to let that happen, not yet. "Who's this chiquita?" Gesturing at Niffty, who was clearly twitching at the thought of getting closer to the 'bad boy.'

"You bringing me fresh meat?" The implication was disgusting, and you almost spoke up when Niffty lunged a bit at Valentino, trying to bite him.

He made another joke, something about a kink, but Angel was clearly tired and just wanted to sleep. "Fuck off Val." He muttered turning to leave but Val was not happy. "Excuse me?"

You expected Angel to just walk, but he doubled down. Which was kind of hot. "I said fuck off!"

"I may have to put up with your bullshit, but you ain't fucking with any of my friends." He was stern, but setting a very clear boundary. It reminded you so much of.. wait, Anthony?

"You forget who you're talking to?" Valentino was fuming now, not used to Angel fighting back. He quickly stood up, using the smoke of his cigarette to make a chain on one of Angel Dust's wrist, pulling him close. "I own you bitch."

Angel looked scared again, and you stepped closer, ready to throw hands, and Valentino noticed but didn't back down. "Yeah, you do. In the studio, and you can do anything you want to me there, just like our deal says."

You were proud of him right now, but also sad. This is your Anthony. The man you were trying to get redeemed for. He was down here in hell, where he didn't belong. "But out here, I get to do what I want. So once again, fuck off." You saw Valentino raise his hand, going to slap him, and you moved quickly, but not quick enough. "Angel!" You called out, seeing Niffty fling out of his arms and Angel bleeding slightly from the harsh hit.

You wanted to rip Valentino limb from limb, but that wouldn't make it any better for Angel. He needed you, and you needed to make sure that he was okay.

Instead of pummeling Valentino, you went to Angel, pulling him into your arms as you checked his face, just like you did when you both were alive. "Enjoy the rest of your night, bitch, because I'm going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow." Both you and Angel glared at the moth demon, and you finally had it.

"You may own Angel now, but I swear that I'll make you pay in the future. Watch your back you bald headed fuck."

You gently lifted Angel up to his feet, holding him close as you hear Cherri mutter 'dickhead' behind you, also worried for Angel. "Fuck it, it was worth it." He muttered, leaning into you and wiping the blood from his face away. "You did good kid," Husk said, patting him on the shoulder as you went to Cherri's table. But not before Niffty ripped some of Valentino's neck fluff, making him scream girlishly.

Cherri split off from your group, with Sir Pentious finally returning, and you all went back to the hotel. It had been a long night after all, and you were all laughing along the way.

But when you finally reached the hotel, Husk Niffty and Sir Pentious went to turn in, Angel too but you stopped him. "Hey.. can we talk for a sec?"

Angel thought he had an idea of what you wanted to talk about, so he stayed. "I'm fine, really. You know I'm gonna bounce back, no matter what Val does to me." And while that has been in the back of your mind, you shook your head. "Thanks for the comfort, but that's not it. Angel.. what's your real name?"

If you were right, it would not only fill you with joy, but you'd be so upset. Anthony didn't deserve to be in hell, he was the sweetest person you knew, and was meant to be in heaven. But you held two of his hands nonetheless, giving him both a nervous but hopeful expression.

And Angel.. he was lost, he couldn't tell why you wanted to know his real name, but he also wanted to tell you. "It's.. That's uhm, kinda private babes, why do you wanna know?" He tried laughing it off, even thought about making a weird joke but he could tell that this wasn't the time. "I.. I think we knew each other when we were alive."

You gave his hands a gently squeeze, and unconsciously threaded your fingers with his. "Please.. I just need to know if you're really him." Even though you were desperate, you would never force Angel Dust to tell you. But it didn't hurt to try.

Angel was conflicted. Not just because you were familiar, but he didn't want to be heartbroken if he got his hopes up. He wanted you to be his lover from when he was alive, but he also didn't. You were supposed to be in heaven, and he's supposed to be trying to redeem himself to be with you again. You sacrificed yourself to save him after all, those bastards in heaven would be lucky to have you.

"Anthony." Angel was taking a leap of faith, watching you carefully.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you took one of your hands to place it onto his fuzzy cheek, stroking it gently with your thumb. Then suddenly, you pulled the taller spider into an embrace, fully letting your tears flow down your cheeks.

No words needed to be spoken. All the two of you needed was to be in each other's arms, finally reunited after so many years of believing the other was in heaven. You both sobbed, holding the other tightly as if he'd disappear. And from this moment onwards, you swore silently to protect your angel from anything. No matter the cost.

<3

[jrsktx]

Your past with Ellie

This is my first fanfic ever. Never done this before. I still learn English. Please make a feedback how it was. Thank you! Hope you enjoy it!

Story: your current life with Ellie. And how it was back then when Joel almost died

Joel lives in this version but he was near to being 💀

Mention of panic attacks,(both reader and Ellie)clickers(once),some curse words here and there. Fluff,angst i guess? Mention of Dina Jesse. You three are best friends.

Imagine cozy life w Ellie. Like talking abt anythin' on ur shared homes terrace. Sitting on a cozy chair or bench Ellie made for u. Wrapped around a cozy blanket watching the sunset while you think about Ellie.

You 2 are married (not officially yet) she likes to caress the ring on ur finger. A reminder to her the happiest moment of her life. When u said yes to her when she proposed to you.

She would never admit it,but at nights she finds herself thinking how unreal it felt. Like the world was at peace (even tho clickers and more shit like that run freely.)

Because poor girl was well prepared for the rejection,the absolutely worse scenario. You say no. She was 100% you gonna say no. She would understand it.

The past her..... well,let's say wasn't the healthiest version for both of you. Losing almost Joel, made her very insecure about everything around her. Including you. Mostly you.

That was the worse part of yall relationship. Ellie had several panick attacks. Worse coming after worse. She didn't ask for help.(and for a long time you didn't know about them. Well..she thought you didn't)

She panicked everytime she couldn't find Joel where she thought he was. Nightmares after nightmares. Waking up all sweaty and out of breath.

But u were prepared for them. Of course you were. Placing cold drink on both night stands. The kitchen was always prepared for making a hot tea if Ellie wanted to hold onto something warm. Or draw away her attention to something else. Asking her to "hold this" focusing her attention on the warm object in her hands. And not the way she is praying for air. Placing the phone nearby if Ellie needed to hear Joel's voice that he is alright and well.

Ellie overthinked everything. Including the relationship. Mostly that.

She feared that she is nothing but a burden to u. With all her "troubles" and nightmares. For a long time she didn't even tell you about her panick attacks. Whenever she felt like it's coming, she always excused herself. And she hide away dealing with it alone.

She thought about the relationship. That she is drowning. And u are coming with her. That's something she could not stand. Dragging you in the darkness with her.

She started acting cold to you. It was rare she slept with you. And it worried you to death. But you knew damn well something. Do not push Ellie. If she doesn't want to talk about it she will not. Not for your or Joels sake. Because Joel has noticed her coldness towards you too.

Joel never really liked you at the start. You two rarely talked. Sometimes when it was neccesary because Ellie was there, but that's it. You two were always cold to eachother. Nobody knew why(not even you two)

And than there you were. Knocking on Joel Miller's door. He was surprised.(as were you lol) and than you broke. You couldn't bare it. You couldn't tell these to anyone else,not to Jesse or Dina.

You told everything to Joel while crying your eyes out to the point you had a panick attack.

U told Joel about Ellie's nightmares,how she pushed you away, how cold she is towards you. But mostly,how worried you were. How your heart ached everytime you woke up to ur girlfriends scream when she was still in her hell of a nightmare.

How you tried to calm her down everytime,by caressing her cheek. Whispering sweet nothings to her. Telling her you and Joel are well. Gently pull the blanket away if she was all sweaty, or tucking her in when she was cold. Wiping her forhead with a cold cloth. Sometimes it worked. Mostly it didn't.

You told him how helpless you felt. Watching ur loved one suffering. That she hides away everytime she has a panick attack. Not even thinking about asking for your help. Running away leaving you for hours. Leaving you there being worried sick. Searching her every single damn time for hours crying ur eyes out because you can't shake off the thought that maybe something bad happened to her. Worrying to the point you have a panick attack in middle of town Dina or Jesse helping you calm down.

(Spoiler:they did not like Ellie. They didn't knew abt the troubles in the relationship. But they noticed ur dark eyebags under your eyes. How tired you were. How ur bright smile dissappeared. And they knew thats bc of someone..)

( u missed to tell the part that Dina and Jesse told u to break up with Ellie because this is unhealthy to you know, and they are worried about you. That you stopped sleeping at your and Ellies shared house. And slept at Dina's house. Mostly crying. Because Ellie didn't even say a word. Sometimes you sneaked back to the bedroom hoping she is there. She wasn't. That u walked out and there she was in the kitchen. Asking how did she sleep. And what did she tell u? That she slept good. And that you were cute while sleeping because you were snoring a little. Lies after lies.)

How she returns like nothing happened and when you ask? You get nothin'. She just shrugs her shoulders like "i remembered i needed to do this and that and blahblahah" lies lies lies. That's all u heard. And it hurt u everytime.

Going to write part 2 if yall like it because i feel like this one got veryy long. Please send a feedback if yall want part 2!

[rosaliin-blog]

JUST IMAGINE hurt/comfort ends silly

Imagine kenji holding your hips, his face on your chest crying and whimpering and you put your head on top of his, it's such a tender moment!!!

Kenji: *sniffles sniffles* "I'm trying my best Y/N, what am I doing wrong!" 

he sobs quietly into you...just feeling frustrated about everything.

Y/N: You stroke his dark raven hair to ease his sobs "Everything will be okay Kenji....just try to breathe" 

Kenji: He trys to breathe but it comes out choked "What if I can't find my mom....whar if I arrive too late to....save..her!" 

He holds you even tighter but gently so he doesn't hurt you......Kenji just feels so exhausted from trying to get a lead on his mom since that call he got from her a month ago.

Tonight he finally broke down in tears 

Y/N: You slightly tilt your head downwards to kiss his forehead then slowly lift up his head with one hand to kiss his cheeks, his nose and his eyes.

"Kenji...won't you look at me" 

 you smile tenderly at Kenji despite his face looking all puffy and tear stained.

"don't be so negative there's still hope, and you will be there at the right time just focus on doing the best you can!"

You finally give Kenji a kiss on the lips and that seems to do the trick, snapping him out of his spiral of self doubt.

Kenji: He buries his face even more into your chest and looks up at you smiling with eyes filled with so much love...wonder...almost as if he were looking at the moon itself.

"I love you Y/N....I don't know where I would be without you...I love you!"

His mood seemed to lighten up and now he's laughing and kissing Y/N softly everywhere, in the same spots you kissed him. 

Y/N: You laughed along with him and returned his kisses "AAAAA why you keep attacking me with kisses Kenji!!-" 

He stops the kisses

Y/N: "why did you stop?"

Kenji: "You didn't say it back"

Y/N: "Say what back?"

Kenji then gets all grumpy and refuses to reply so you shower him with kisses and he still doesn't reply 

Y/N: " Oh so now you all grumpy...fine...I'll just have to tickle it out of you!!!" 

You try around his lower back, his neck,mostly areas you can reach until you touch his jaw and he starts to tremble trying to keep his composure together.

Y/N: "I'VE GOT YOU NOW KENJI NOW SPILL THE SECRETS!!!!" 

Kenji cannot withstand your powerful tickle attacks and laughs yelling out "FInE...I'LL confess my sins!!!"

He brings his lips close to your ear and whispers 

Kenji: "You didn't say I love you back~"

(Kenji's voice is deadly ya'll 😩)

You roll your eyes at how grumpy he got before, so now you copy him and whisper in his ear.

"I love you too Kenji!~"

You both went back to sleep still cuddling each other till sunrise and eventually getting your legs so tangled with his it took you 11 minutes to untangle mostly, because Kenji didn't want to and wanted to stay in bed all day with you.

Ok I hope you all liked it...um this is my first time ever writing something like this lol

If you got any opinions or something I could improve on you can just comment down below!

Also hi everyone I'm back from my internet break!!!

[reds-skull]

The Dollhouse

[AO3]

(note: TW for hallucinations, general dissuasion of past domestic abuse and mental illnesses, and mild gore. Happy/bittersweet ending as always. If I miss any warnings, you're welcome to let me know!)

Made myself cry with this one twice so I'm sure it's gonna hurt lol

Since people seemed to like it last time, I'll be writing my thoughts in the comments on AO3 right after I post everything, which you're welcome to read!

Joseph has a dollhouse. The thing was bloody expensive, or so Tommy told him, but Beth practically begged him to buy it, along with her son. She said she always wanted one as a kid, and Tommy couldn’t say no.

Simon played with him a little bit, always taking the role of the mom. He refused to be the dad. It hasn’t been long enough for him to hear that title without bile filling his mouth.

He was cleaning up after another playing session, his nephew running off to greet his parents at the door. Simon avoids looking too hard at his scarred, gnarly hands, instead focusing on the dolls.

The set has 4; a mom, a dad, and two siblings. He shoves each of them into the little rooms, along with the tiny furniture, when something gives him a pause.

There are dolls in the house that he doesn’t recognize. He didn’t know Tommy bought more.

Simon leans in closer, brows furrowing. There are four of them, one laying face-down on a red carpet, the others surrounding it.

The dolls are… odd. They’re wearing tactical gear, the one on the carpet completely covered in black. One of them has a bucket hat, the other a baseball cap, and the third what looks like a tiny warhawk.

Simon stares at the fourth one. Something about the red carpet it is laying on reminds him of blood more than anything, and a sharp feeling echos through his chest. An odd beating, a knife tearing through his organs, a cruel hook at his side.

He reaches to turn the little doll, when Beth yells, “Simon! Lunch is ready, where are you?!”

Simon turns away to call back, “cleaning up, be there in a minute!” he sighs, returning to the dollhouse.

… The dolls are gone.

Things have been… weird since coming back. Maybe it was foolish to think he could leave everything that happened in Mexico behind him.

As if his mind couldn’t function without an enemy, it turned against Simon. Hallucinations weren’t uncommon for him, things appearing and disappearing, minutes lost staring at a wall. Voices, echos of pain.

Some days he locks himself in his room, laughter bubbling up along with tears, both unstoppable. Tommy broke down the door the first time, chest heaving like he was expecting a fight. It surprised him, in hindsight. That his brother cares.

It got better, and it didn’t. Simon sighs, smoke billowing from his mouth. The scars crossing his lips tingle uncomfortably, still sensitive to changes in temperature.

He can feel mum staring at him, as he sits on the back porch, smoking. She has a hard time hiding her worry, they all do, really. It makes him feel all the more pathetic.

Simon huffs. He can almost hear his therapist chiding him for those thoughts.

He takes one more breath of smoke before stamping out the cigarette. Sitting around feeling bad about himself never solved anything, wallowing in emotions bigger than his shriveled heart can process did nothing to change them. Simon gets up, wiping the dirt off his jeans, and means to step back inside, when he gets knocked down to his knees.

The chair next to him falls, flimsy wood splintering, the hanging plants above him swaying violently.

The ground is shaking.

His brain takes precious seconds to remember that you’re not supposed to be inside in an earthquake, and his body wastes several more trying to get enough balance to rush back inside.

“TOMMY! BETH! GET JOSEPH AND MUM OUTSIDE, THERE’S A BLOODY-” Simon shouts, slipping around a corner where he slides to a stop.

His brother is staring at him, confused, hand frozen midair as he was about to remove his coat. Beth and mum look equally bewildered, and Joseph’s expression is just enough scared that he is shocked back to reality.

“I’m…” Simon swallows thickly, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy sighs and opens his mouth to speak, but…

… But the voice that comes out isn’t his, “don’t you fuckin’ apologize to me, you bastard!”

“You don’t get to say that, not now!” Joseph says, in a voice of a fully-grown man.

Simon takes a step back. It’s not back to normal yet- his mind is still fucking with him. He needs- he needs to-

His legs take him to his room, running up the stairs, ignoring the calls of his name behind him. They’re wrong, their voices are not theirs, he’s still not back.

The door threatens to splinter as he slams it shut, his breaths wheezing up his chest, sounding almost like a laugh if he wasn’t on the verge of tears.

Simon slides down to his knees, forehead pressed to the cool door. Eyes shut, ears covered. He can’t trust them anyway.

Desperate, he begins doing the exercise his therapist taught him.

“Roba is not here.” he says in his mind, “Roba is not here.” he repeats until he truly believes it.

“I am safe,” is repeated after that.

“I am home.”

“None of it was real.”

The room is dark by the time Simon finds the courage to open his eyes. He uncurls from the floor, muscles creaking in protest.

Mum is waiting on the other side of the door when he finally exits his room. Her eyes scan him, and a relieved breath visibly escapes her when she finds no injuries.

“How are you feeling, luv?” she asks, carefully, but Simon can’t detect any fear in her voice.

He ducks his head to avoid her eyes all the same, “fine. Sorry about- sorry.”

“No need to apologize. It’s… it’s been a while since it happened, right? At least there’s progress.” she tries to cheer him up, like always.

She used to do the same, after dad blew up on them for acting their age, for having the gal to be a child. It made him simmer with barely-concealed anger. How could she try to be positive all the time, when everything was clearly fuckin’ not fine.

Simon recognized it for what it was when he left home for bootcamp. Recognized she was doing her best. That maybe if she could find the good in everything, the bad will be easier.

Bitterly, he thinks that’s why she chose to marry a man like Simon’s father in the first place.

“... Yeah.” he says, because he doesn’t want to scare her any more than he already did. She gives him a gentle smile, and a softer caress to the shoulder.

“Oh, what are we doing chatting around here, you must be starving! Come, we are about to eat dinner, I made pie!”

Simon lets his mum lead him downstairs, where the table is already set. Joseph visibly lights up when their eyes meet, and it makes something in his heart melt.

“Uncle Si!” he says with a full mouth, “Nana made your favorite pie!” Joseph lifts the pie dish to show him, or attempts to, as Beth has to help him.

Simon smiles, “how’s the taste, Joey?”

“The best!” his nephew grins back.

He takes a sit beside him, the plate in front of him already laden with food. Tommy gives him a look, silently asking if he’s alright.

Simon nods. They both know he isn’t, but as long as he can hold it together for now, he’s alright.

They’re used to sweeping things under the rug, after all.

Simon called it a day early, the “attack” draining him. It’s fucking annoying, that things that aren’t even real make him so tired.

He wonders for how long will Roba’s hands and knives and tools will haunt him. If his mind will ever stop playing tricks on him. 

As tired as he is, he can’t find enough peace within himself to fall asleep. He turns for the millionth time, before sighing and getting up.

Ever since he returned, Simon can’t sleep in complete darkness. Childish as it sounds, the moment the lights go out he can feel scorpions crawling up his limbs, phantom stings keeping him tense under plush bedding.

The street lights are often enough to illuminate the room, the curtains never drawn shut. Simon walks over to the window, opening it to inhale the crisp, cold night air.

His fingers itch for a cigarette, but mum would kill him if he stunk up the house with them. He knows what the smell reminds her off, and he tried quitting, but…

The view outside his window is blurry, almost fogged over, likely from his lack of sleep. He inhales again, deeply, if only to feel the slight bite of chill in his lungs, if only to replace the dirt and rot that hasn’t left his veins since he came back.

Wind blows over the silent neighborhood, the curtains fluttering around him. Simon shivers, his scars tingling. He huffs as he thinks of how his mum would probably tell him to close the windows, lest he get a cold, if she was here.

As if he didn’t spend months in a cold basement, wearing rags.

It’s… odd. To be cared for. Not that she didn’t care for them before, it just never really felt like this when it was undone the moment his father returned home from his job.

Violent gusts knock over something behind him, but Simon is lost in thought, memories of his dad and mum and Roba mixing, whirling. The wind picks up, beating against the trees outside, against the open window, thudding, thumping, hammering against his chest-

A knock on his door makes him refocus on reality. “Simon?” Tommy asks through the thin plywood, “you alright?”

Simon frowns. Why is Tommy still awake in the middle of the night? He steps away from the window to open the door, “m’fine. Something happen?”

Tommy looks over his shoulder, “the wind…”

“What about it?”

“I thought-” Tommy cuts himself off, “never mind. Goodnight.”

“... Goodnight?” Simon responds, his brother already halfway back to his and Beth’s bedroom.

The confusion is enough to distract him from the fact the wind stopped the moment Tommy showed up.

Simon doesn’t go out much. Or at all. His day consists of helping his mum around the house, working out in the backyard, and trying not to lose his fucking mind every time something reminds him of Mexico.

Mum is having her afternoon nap now, leaving him alone in the living room. His hands beg for something to do, and his first thought jumps to the hours and hours he spent cleaning guns and knives back on base. It used to relax him like nothing else did, the monotony quieting his mind.

He didn’t hold a rifle for months now. Doesn’t even know if he’ll ever return to the service.

Simon decides to get up and scrub the kitchen sink, hoping it would be similar enough, when the landline phone rings. He rushes to answer before the shrill noise can bother his mum, and says, “Riley’s.”

He hears only static for a few seconds, “‘ello?”

“... Please…” a single word comes through, “Don’t leave…”

“Who is this?” Simon asks more firmly, chills running down his spine as he hears sobbing.

“C’mon, Simon… stay with me…” the voice begs.

“Who are you? What the fuck are you talking abou-”

The call disconnects. Simon slams the phone down, exhaling roughly. He’d chuck it to a prank call, if whoever it was didn’t say his name. They sounded… desperate. In a way that a soldier is, surrounded by the bodies of his brothers-in-arms.

It could’ve been another trick of his mind. He heard plenty of soldiers beg like that right before getting shot in the head. His memories don’t lack in suffering and desperation, that’s for fucking certain.

Simon walks to the kitchen, picks up a sponge, and begins scrubbing at the counter. Movements robotic, he ignores the voice in his mind that says he’s missing something important.

A figment of his imagination. That is all it was.

“What’s this one called, Joey?”

“A tri- trisera-” Joseph struggles to say the name.

Beth snorts from the couch, “triceratops?”

“Yes!” his nephew smiles, putting the little toy dinosaur in Simon’s hand, “it eats grass!”

“That so?” Simon turns the toy in his hands, small horns digging into his palms.

Joseph continues, “yeah! I tried to eat it as well, but mum said I can’t.” he leans closer to Simon, whispering, “I did eat some later, but it was really gross.”

Simon and Beth’s eyes meet, her exasperated expression telling him she heard everything, “let’s leave the grass to the triceratops, hm?” he tells him.

“Okay!” Joseph agrees immediately, much to Beth’s relief. His nephew goes back to his imaginary battlefield, where the triceratops is a commander of a troop of velociraptors. Simon gives up on trying to understand who is winning, and sits down beside Beth.

“He really admires you, you know?” Beth speaks after a few moments of silence. Simon turns to her with furrowed brows. She smiles, “would always ask what were you doing when you were away. When we got the news that-” 

“That I died.” he continues for her, hating the pity in her tone. He doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t want them to be so careful around him.

She sighs, “that you died. I couldn’t tell him. I told him you were… lost. A day later I find him trying to sneak out of the house, to search for you.” tears gather at Beth’s lash line, and she turns to wipe them away. Simon notices, even if she tries to hide it.

“I’m here now. Won’t let him run off to search for any lost soldiers again,” he assures her, and she smirks.

“Always one to take things with the utmost seriousness, Simon. Sometimes I wonder if it was the military, or you were just born like that. Your mum and Tommy sure aren’t like that.”

She doesn’t mention his father, but he supposes it was obvious it didn’t come from him either. Simon was always serious, emotions locked deep in his chest. When your old man slaps you for every overly loud noise, whether it be a laugh or a cry, you learn to suppress.

Maybe, in a way, it did come from his rotten dad.

“Tommy cries too easily. Fuckin’ sobbed like a baby on Joey’s first birthday.”

“Language!” Beth slaps his arm lightly, “of course he would, it’s his first son! You’d understand if you had kids.”

Fucking unlikely. No way he becomes a father, the world doesn’t need any more of him. Any of those kids wouldn’t be as good as Joseph is, anyway.

“When’s he coming back? Joey must be hungry by now.” Simon looks to the front door, once again glad their house has an open floor plan.

Beth checks the clock on the wall, “he’ll be here any minute now. Joseph love, are you hungry?”

Joseph looks up from his triceratops, who has just run over an enemy T. rex, “a little. Can I have a treat?”

“Not before lunch, you know the rules.” Beth reprimands him lightly. She turns back to Simon, “let me see if your mum needs any help…” she leaves for the kitchen.

“How’s the battle going?” Simon asks as Joseph lets a chunky, colorful helicopter land in front of a fallen velociraptor.

His nephew shoves the dinosaur into the helo, “we’re taking him to the hospital! The T. rex took a bite out of his leg, so he needs a new one.” he explains, making a whooshing sound as the helo takes off.

Simon leans closer, his lips tugging upwards, “and where’s the hospital?”

“Uh…” Joey stops the helo midair, “on the dining table!” he runs off to it, the poor velociraptor rattling inside the helo.

Simon gets up to follow, when the front door opens. Tommy locks eyes with him, “sorry I was late, some idiot tried to move the photocopier up the stairs… unsuccessfully.”

“How horrible… I’d rather go back to Mexico than deal with that.” Simon mutters, and his brother barks a surprised laugh.

“Bloody ‘ell, don’t let mum hear you.” he takes off his coat, hanging it on the hooks next to the door, “or the psychiatrist, for that matter.”

“They would tell me, ‘humor is a perfectly fine coping mechanism’, or some shite.” Simon grumbles.

They both join Joseph at the table, as mum and Beth set plates down. The makeshift hospital (nothing more than a few napkins folded to look like beds) has to be moved, much to Joseph dismay, but Tommy promises him the velociraptor will understand.

As everyone settles in, Simon can’t help but think of a similar scene, 20 or so years ago. Back then, there wasn’t laughter, smiles, a warm aroma in the room. No, there was only the cold stare of a man playing a false God with his own family, bitter eyes striking fear in his heart whenever they met his.

It’s moments like these, where Simon thinks things will be alright after all.

“-And then, Sam dropped the photocopier down three flights of stairs, his face pale as a sheet.” Tommy says between child-like giggles, his wife and mum laughing along. Joseph looks intrigued but confused, opting to focus on his meal, humming a little tune between bites.

“I told him, ‘mate, if I were you I’d run before the big boss comes around,’ as a joke! But the bloke bucks it outta the building like someone set fire under his ars- butt.”

Mum laughs quietly, “oh, love, the poor intern probably had his life flashing before his eyes-”

Everything falls silent. The hum of electricity, the clock in the living room, the birds outside. Joseph’s tune, his mum’s laughter, Tommy’s cheery voice, Beth’s fond sighs.

They all click their mouths shut. Simon lowers his fork slowly, his heartbeat picking up.

“...what-”

They turn to stare at him, their gazes lowering to his chest, unnervingly synchronized. Simon looks down, and his fork clangs loudly as he drops it to the floor.

Red blooms across his chest, liquid turning his dark shirt shiny. He clutches at his front, panic rising within him, when he realizes it can’t be real - he feels no pain.

But- “you’re… you’re seeing it too?” Simon’s hand twists into the sodden fabric, “but it’s- it’s not-” dark tendrils creep from the edges of his vision, lightheaded as if he’s really loosing blood, chest shaking with loud beats-

“See what, uncle Si?” Joseph asks innocently. Simon’s eyes focus back on his family.

They all look normal. A bit confused and worried, but none of them are looking at the supposed wound blooming across his chest.

Simon raises his palm from his shirt, hand shaking as he scans it.

His pale, scarred skin is completely devoid of blood.

Mirrors became another enemy of his, after he came back. Ignoring the effects of what happened would’ve been easier if there wasn’t tangible proof Simon was irrevocably changed by Roba. It’s not usually a problem to avoid them, as the one in the bathroom on the first floor was removed (after several… incidents).

But the ground floor still had one. And Simon is staring at it right now.

He ran off after what happened at the dining table, heart beating so hard he worried it’ll stop. He tries to keep his eyes below his neck, checking his shirt again and again, searching for blood that never existed.

It didn’t, but something did. His family saw it, Simon is sure of it. They never reacted to his hallucinations like that before, even when he saw fire burning the house down, earthquake shaking the ground, he was always met with confused looks that ignore the surrounding chaos.

His fingers ache with how tightly he’s grasping at the sink, at his chest. Uncertainty twists his gut, the intrusive thought that none of this is real burrowing into his mind.

What if he never escaped Roba? What if this is nothing but a drugged-induced nightmare? Maybe he’s in that fucking grave right now, maggots eating at his barely-alive flash, the bones of his traitorous commander cradling his broken body?

Simon can’t do this again. He can’t, he can’t, he-

Someone knocks on the door, “Uncle Si?” Joseph asks, voice wobbly. It startles something in him.

The lock clicks loudly as he unlocks the bathroom door, and Simon instantly crouches down to face the teary eyes of his nephew, “what’s wrong, Joey?”

Joseph’s lip trembles, and he wraps his small arms around him, “I don’t want you to leave again, Uncle Si.”

Simon hugs him gently, careful as to not hurt him. “I’m… I’m not going anywhere?” he answers, unsure of what Joseph could be talking about.

“Nana said it will be time soon.”

“Time for what? Joseph, what’s going on-”

His nephew shrieks as a loud crashing sound echos in the bathroom. Simon grips him tighter, shielding him as something hits his back. He turns around, adrenaline pumping in his veins, ready to protect his nephew when he sees what caused it.

The mirror broke. Cracks spreading from a single point as if a phantom hand punched it, blood seeping into the crevices left behind.

Simon looks down at Joseph, “you saw that too, right? And the- before, when we were eating.”

Tears run down his nephew’s cheeks, Simon wiping them slowly. “Joey. I need you to answer me.”

Joseph breaks down, whispering, “don’t tell mum and dad, Si.” he shoves a few small objects into Simon’s hand, his little fingers twisting into his.

Simon opens his mouth to ask him for more details, anything, when Tommy and Beth rush towards them, “we heard a scream- Joey, love, why are you crying?” Beth scoops up her son. Joseph’s gift, four little dolls by the feel of it, stays hidden in the pocket of his sweatpants. 

Tommy crouches down beside him, ignoring the crunch of glass under his slippers, “you alright?”

Simon’s eyes flicker from the broken mirror to his brother’s eyes, “fine. Sorry for upsetting Joey, think he’s… worried.” he rises to his feet, “I… I’m going to be at the back. Tell mum I’m sorry for lunch.”

He doesn’t wait to hear Tommy’s answer, hurrying to the back door. Once it’s closed behind him, Simon takes a deep breath, and pulls out the dolls Joseph gave him.

It’s the little soldiers he saw before. The ones that… disappeared…

Simon turns each of them in his hands, trying to figure out why Joey thought this would help him understand what’s going on.

They all have the Union Jack on their gear, which looks similar to what he wore when he was still in service. It’s the fourth one that interests him most, the one that was face-down in the dollhouse.

What he wasn’t able to see before, is the skull mask covering its face. With shaky fingers, Simon checks if the balaclava the mask is stitched to is removable. The tiny piece of fabric shifts under his fingertips, and he pulls it up.

His breath catches in his lungs. The doll is an almost exact replica of Simon.

Where did Joseph find these? And more importantly, if this one looks like him, does it mean the other three are also of real people?

Simon stares at their faces, trying to think back to before Mexico. Those memories have been muddied by months of torture, faces redacted in his mind long ago, but no matter how much he tries to think, he can’t remember meeting anyone that looks like them.

He shoves the dolls back into his pocket, scrubbing a hand over his weary eyes. Simon gazes upwards, the English grey sky looking whiter and whiter the more he stares. He’s unsettled, bones misplaced inside his body. It all feels deeply wrong.

One thing is certain, now. Joseph saw his ‘hallucinations’, which means the rest of his family is lying to him about them.

The house was quiet when Simon eventually returned inside. He finds his family still at the dining table, though they’re not quite as happy as they were before. In the few moments before any of them noticed his reappearance, Simon watches how Tommy and Beth seem on the edge of tears, their hands clutched tightly between their plates.

A mask seems to slip back on their faces when they see him standing in the doorway, “Simon.” Tommy says, alerting Joseph and mum. Simon doesn’t reply.

He takes his previous seat next to Joseph, the young boy staring at him, “alright, Joey?” he asks.

Joseph blinks, biting his lip as if he mulls it over. The longer he doesn’t respond, the deeper a knife twists in Simon’s gut.

“I’m not going anywhere, understand? Not anymore.” he tried to cheer him. From the outside, it may seem they’re talking about him leaving the table, but he’s sure Joseph understands he doesn’t mean that.

His nephew nods, picking up his spoon again, scooping a bit of his food and eating. He doesn’t seem convinced.

“You should eat, love.” his mum says quietly, almost meekly, as if she’s… afraid of his reaction.

They know he knows, or at least suspects, that they’re lying. That they’ve been hiding something from him, something big, making him think he’s losing his bloody mind again.

Simon stares at her. His mum always had a way to tell what he’s thinking, whispering to him that his eyes talk to her.

Her eyes talk to him now, and they beg. ‘Please don’t say it.’

Simon picks up the newly cleaned fork beside his plate, and begins eating. “Ta for the food, mum.” he tells her, and a small smile spreads on her lips.

Whatever she knows, scares her. Enough that, at the threat of voicing it, she’s desperate. Simon isn’t a good man, but he would never do something that brings his mum distress. He’s better than his rotting father. He has to be.

So, they eat in silence, his heartbeat the only sound. Bite by bite, he finishes his lunch.

It tastes like nothing in his mouth.

Simon helps Tommy with the dishes after they all finish, passing wet plates for him to dry. He waits until the rest of the family leaves before speaking.

“The mirror in the ground floor bathroom.” Simon gives him a set of forks.

Tommy gives him a confused look, towel wrapped around the utensils, “what about it?”

“It broke. That’s what made Joseph scream.”

Tommy sets down the towel, “the mirror is fine, he was probably just frightened by your reaction-”

“Tommy.” the water in the sink continues pouring over Simon’s now still hands, “don’t lie. We both know you’re shite at it. I know he saw.” his eyes drag over his brother’s paling face, “and I know you saw too.”

Tommy is silent for a long minute, Simon’s stare not wavering.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

Simon growls, patience thinning, “bullshit. You think I’m bloody stupid-”

The tap gurgles loudly, making both brothers stop in their tracks. Simon pulls his hands away to shut it, when it begins spitting out something that is very much not water.

Blood drips onto the dishes, clogging the drain and quickly filling the sink. Simon and Tommy take a step back as it spills on the floor.

He scans his brother’s horrified expression, “...you see it, don’t you?”

Tommy’s disturbed eyes are enough confirmation for him. “You’re running out of time.” his brother mumbles, voice unusually thin. He takes Simon’s hand in his, dragging him away before he can ask any of the thousands of questions bubbling up in his mind.

“Tommy, what-” they stop in the living room, where mum, Beth and Joseph are. They’re startled by Tommy’s hurried steps, but his mum seems to understand what’s going on.

“Is he…?” Beth asks, rising from the couch. Tommy nods, and she covers her mouth with her hand, on the verge of tears.

Simon shakes his brother’s grip, “can any of you tell me what’s going on?! I’ve been losing my goddamn mind, thinking I’ve been hallucinating shit, but clearly you all can see it, and unless mirrors can spontaneously break, and sinks are supposed to pour blood, this is all- you’re all-”

Tears horrifyingly begin pouring from his eyes, his voice breaking.

“This isn’t real.”

A rumbling shakes the house. Deep, like the moans of dead men. Simon watches, frozen, helpless, as slashes are cut through the walls, the floor, through furniture, butchered like the flesh of an animal ready for slaughter.

“Uncle Si!” Joseph screams, running towards him and Tommy. His mum steps back, shaking, until a slash goes through her.

Simon yells as blood spreads on her chest, and her eyes dim. Despite the mortal wounds blossoming on her skin, she smiles at him through tears.

Beth leaves them next, the cuts leaving dark red lines on her face, and her hand stills before she can reach her son.

“Tommy…” Simon looks away, unable to watch his family die again.

… Again?

His brother clutches at his shoulders, grip desperate, “you can’t give up, Simon, you hear me? Whatever you do, stay alive-”

Gashes tear through Tommy’s temples, one after the other. He brings a hand to wipe away the blood, only for more to replace it.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.” his brother grunts, “but we will see you again. I promise.”

“Tommy- don’t leave” Simon grabs his hand as it slips, “not again… please, I can’t do it again, I can’t be alone again-”

“You’re not alone.” Tommy mumbles, words almost lost under the screaming house, “they saved you before. They’ll save you… again…”

The grip on his shoulders loosens, and his brother falls, never to rise once more.

Simon stares at his bloody hand, before a whimper catches his attention.

Joseph. Oh, Joseph.

“Joey…” he wraps his arms around the boy, sinking to his knees, as if he could shield him from events that are already set in gravestone.

Joseph trembles, sobbing. Crying for his mother, crying for his father, crying for his nana.

Crying for him.

“I don’t want you to die, Uncle Si.” Joey weeps. “Promise me you won’t die.”

Tears blur Simon’s vision, as their house falls apart, as the screaming becomes louder and louder.

“I promise, Joey.”

Joseph takes his face in his little hands, fingers squeezing his tear-streaked cheeks. His eyes have a tragic acceptance to them, and he gives his uncle one last bright smile.

“Then wake up.”

Ghost blinks his eyes open. Something about the world feels sharper. Maybe it’s the pain in his chest.

Bright lights burn strange shapes into his vision, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He looks to his side, finding wires connecting him to medical equipment, a constant beeping exposing just how fast his heart is beating.

It comes back to him in waves. His family’s death, Roba’s, re-enlistment. Years and years of bloodshed and war.

His fingers skim over his chest, and he winces as they hit a mass of bandages. Whatever got him, got him good.

Fingers digging into his wounds, his eyes fall shut.

It was all a bloody dream-

Ghost’s thoughts come to a halt when familiar voices fill the hall outside his room. He watches as the door opens, three men walking inside, talking like they didn’t notice him yet.

“The temporary LT is fuckin’ shite and ye know it, Captain. Bastard wouldn’t know good leadership if it hit him over his heid.” a Scot with a messy warhawk grouses. In his arms are a bundle of slightly crushed flowers.

Ghost’s eyes drift to the drying flowers on his bedside table, warmth spreading through his heart.

A man with a baseball cap joins him, “Soap, you’d complain about any LT that is not Ghost.” he ignores Soap’s indignant noises, settling into a chair beside the window, “but you’re right, he’s bloody hopeless, Price.”

Doesn’t sound like he’s been replaced just yet, he huffs silently.

Price sighs, lifting his bucket hat to scrub a hand through his short hair, “for the hundredth time, Gaz, Soap, the Lieutenant is temporary. We just need to wait for Ghost to wake up.”

“Well,” Ghost clears his throat, “you’re welcome to put the Sergeants out of their misery now.”

His team freezes, before three pairs of eyes land on him.

“LT!” Soap jumps into action first, practically running to his side, “ye’re- you’re awake! Fuck, you’re really…” he grasps the railing tightly, bright blue eyes not leaving his, “we thought you’d never-”

“Think that little of me, Johnny?” he asks teasingly, “it takes more than this to take me out-”

Gaz talks over him, looking like he’s about to slap him, “it nearly bloody did, sir.”

What? “What happened.” Ghost demands from Price.

The Captain sighs as he sits in the chair nearest to the bed, “we found you after you missed several check-ins. Seven stab wounds to the chest, you’ve been bleeding out for at least half an hour.” Price shakes his head, “coded once on the helo on the way here. Surgery was successful, but you didn’t wake up.”

“How long was I-”

“Two weeks.” Johnny answers, his face grim. “Ye’ve been out for two weeks.”

Fuck. Ghost swallows, “well, I’m awake now.” he gazes at Johnny, who gives him a weak smile.

His eyes drift away from his Sergeant, to the bright window. There, on the windowsill, he sees something that makes his breathing stop.

Gaz picks up on what caught his attention first, “you had them in your hands when we found you. We weren’t sure if they were important to you, you didn’t let us take them until your heart literally gave out.”

On the windowsill, lit by warm sunlight, are four little dolls. A taller, blond one, his wife, a fiery redhead, their son, with the most radiant smile in the world, and his nana, with her meek hand in his. Their house gone, but not forgotten. 

“Simon…?” Johnny asks, and he hums. “Why are ye crying?”

Simon looks over his team, smiling, even as tears roll down his face.

“They saved you before. They’ll save you again.”

“Just glad to be back home.”

[juletheghoul]

Not sure if you have been tagged in WIP Wednesday, but if not do you have any tidbits to share about The General? I am obsessed with him. Thank you lovely 💕💕💕

Hi girlie!💕

omg I'm so glad you wanna know about him- I've been working on a chapter and they are getting into their feelings lol. Here's a sneak peak:

Warnings; 18+ no minors, *feelings!!* vague but big-legal age gap, dirty talk, violence (Marcus is wounded), hurt/comfort, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

You wake with the sun, the first few rays sliding across your skin like water and it’s hard to move from your place. In the night, your body had brought you close to his body, seeking out the warmth of him. He was still asleep, but his legs had tangled up with yours and it was strange to lay with him like this, both of you nude as the day you were born, yet incredibly comforting. 

You took the time to check over his wound, and were pleased to find it looking much better. The edges of it stitching together, thankfully without corruption. 

“It does not hurt as much as it did before.” His voice was sleepy, “I will be back on my feet soon enough.”

“Let me dress Dominus, and I will fetch you something to break your fast.” 

“Not just yet.” He shifted, and although you helped him, he didn’t struggle quite as much. “Come, lie with me.” He held out his arm, and you went to him, trembling like a leaf to rest your head on his shoulder. “Gods, I missed you, girl.” He buried his nose into the mess of your hair and something inside you grew and swelled, fed and made strong by his words and by his skin. 

“I missed you, Dominus.” Truer words had never been spoken by you, the ache for him had been unbearable.

“Did you?” There was something underneath, something desperate and had it not been so early, so peaceful, he might not have asked.

“Desperately Dominus, I feared you had abandoned me, I feared you no longer desired me.” You pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in, his scent, his warmth, him- sustenance

“Come now, girl, you know of my desire for you, it is like a thirst I cannot quench. A hunger I cannot satisfy, despite my dark moods, despite my sour face, you are a source of joy and pleasure I have not known in some time.” His hand brought your face up, his gaze burned into yours and his words affected you so that tears welled in your eyes. He wiped them away, and the tenderness was too much, a sob clawed its way out from your throat. All of the worry, all of the fear that he might have left you alone in the world, to be sold to another bubbled up and he held you as you cried.

“Do you wish to be free of me? Is that why you cry?” Something in his voice broke your heart.

“No Dominus, no-“ you wiped the tears away, moving to look him in the eye and the expression you saw in them was almost too much to bear. “I have never been so happy in all my life, I have never felt about anyone, the way I feel for you.” You press your lips to his, petal-soft. “Sometimes, the things I feel for you are almost too big for my body, I want to be with you always, I want to feel you always. I feared so much while you were gone that I could barely eat, barely sleep-” Your words were frantic, so many things to get out that you could barely speak and he pulled you close, shushing you softly. 

“My heart swells to hear you speak this way.” He reaches down, sliding his hand towards the hinge in your knee, to pull it over his thigh. “Peace, let us just enjoy the silence.” You nodded into his neck, letting go of a great breath in your lungs. “If I was myself, and whole, I would be pulling every ounce of pleasure from you now.” 

You laugh at the annoyance in his tone.

“Soon enough Dominus, I would have you healthy and healed.” Your hand slides up the smooth expanse of his chest, threading through the curls at the base of his skull.

“Once your wound has healed, you can have me any way you’d like.” 

“Any way?” His tone darkens, and your body responds, thighs clenching, heart racing, nipples hardening. “Any way I want? And what if I want you for a day and a night? What if I want you wet and spread for me in this bed until you’re so full of my gift it spills all over my linens?” His hand that had been softly stroking your back moved down and grabbed at your backside, pulling until the lips of your sex spread open. You moaned, and he all but growled. “Do not make those noises girl, not when I cannot fuck you how I wish to.” He pulled your face up, licking into your mouth with a hunger you could not satisfy, not in his current state.

--

tagging just a few I think would want to read

@221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @xdaddysprincessxx @foli-vora @absurdthirst @604to647

[followsfrankiep]

Don't Worry About Her (Eddie Brock x Reader)

Summary: They always say, when a guy tells you not to worry about his girl best friend, you probably should. Izzy's wild and free-spirited nature has always contrasted with her best friend Eddie's quest for stability. Now that Eddie is engaged, he never expected Izzy to complicate things for both of them.

TW: Smut, Explicit Words, Cheating, Minors DNI.

Word count: 4k

first part here: https://www.tumblr.com/followsfrankiep/776284521462120448/dont-worry-about-her-eddie-brock-x-reader

A/N: slightly heftier than the previous chapter but it's necessary, i promise! Enjoy! warning: you might want to squish eddie into a ball and munch on him after this LOL

Part 2 - Her Emergency Contact

Izzy burst into Eddie's life like a force of nature, she marched up to him with unwavering confidence, her pigtails bouncing with each step, and declared that they were going to be friends in elementary school. Little Eddie didn't have a choice—Izzy's determination left no room for refusal, and their unlikely friendship blossomed. Just like she said. Despite their contrasting natures—Eddie's reserved demeanor and Izzy's ecstatic charm—they became inseparable.

Their friendship continued through high school, remaining purely platonic. Izzy had many friends, while Eddie kept his circle small. She loved exploring and often found herself in trouble, with Eddie always ready to cover for her when her parents asked questions. She'd use Eddie as an excuse to go out, knowing her parents trusted him implicitly. They never saw each other as anything more than best friends, almost like siblings, but Izzy had fun teasing Eddie about being uptight and dragged him along on her crazy adventures.

On more than one occasion, Eddie found himself carrying her on his back, to take her home when she was dead drunk from a party. He was her "emergency contact" whenever she got into trouble, always there to ensure she made it back safely. The frequency of these escapades annoyed and irritated him, but not once he ever let her down. As he trudged along, Izzy's weight heavy on his back, he couldn't help but think as to how he got himself into this kind of situation, again.

Despite his frustration, the sight of her sleeping peacefully on his back, knowing she felt safe with him, made it all worthwhile. He'd carry her home a thousand times, no matter what the cost.

In college, things changed. Eddie transformed from a shy kid into a hunk and chunk of a man, attracting the attention of many college girls. Yet, despite his newfound popularity, he and Izzy maintained their boundary. In their last year of college, Eddie went through a painful breakup and fell into a depressive state. Izzy, being who she was, coaxed him out of his college dorm, insisting he join her for a night of fun.

At a party, with a drink in hand, Eddie found himself sulking on the sofa, nursing his second bottle of beer. Izzy joined him, shaking her head at the sight. She never understood how someone could be so affected by a breakup. To her, it was just one person. She was all about casual flings and hookups, loving the thrill they brought. She began lecturing Eddie about having fun in relationships, pointing out that he was a handsome, smart guy who should be enjoying himself. Their views clashed, leading to a heated back-and-forth that challenged them both.

As Izzy teased Eddie about his uptight nature, he felt his frustration building. "You gotta drop that long face, Eddie. It's becoming ugly." she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You guys broke up, you've had your cry. Can we move on now?"

Yes. We. No matter what situation they found themselves in, it was always them against the fucking world.

"Can you stop lecturing me about that? Some of us actually care about our relationships." Eddie snapped, his irritation clear. She loves it when he's annoyed.

"Oh, you care alright," Izzy said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and taking a swig of her drink. "But some things just don't deserve your concern, Eddie. You have to learn to play with them a little," she continued, her tone playful yet pointed.

He shot her a glare, getting more annoyed with what she was saying. "Really, Iz? You are not going to stop?"

She shrugged, and laughed. Sometimes she does not know why he's her bestfriend. "Come on, Brock. When's the last time you flirted with someone just for fun? Or did something just for the thrill of it?"

"What's the point of doing that if I'm not going to date them?" he retorted, his hands flying up in frustration, spilling some of his beer on the couch.

That made her think, but something inside her clicked. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and playfulness.

How about a little game?

"Are you forgetting we're still young? You're too safe. Sometimes, you have to take risks for a better reward."

He scoffed, "For Christ's sake, Izzy! Not everyone wants to be a reckless thrill-seeker."

Ouch.

Okay, Eddie.

You will see.

She leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's not about being reckless, Eddie. It's about feeling deep inside your loins that you're hot and alive."

Their faces were inches apart, the intensity of their exchange creating a charged atmosphere. Eddie's eyes locked on hers, his heart racing as he took in her mischievous expression, wondering what the hell was she doing. Without warning, Izzy closed the gap and kissed him, her lips pressing firmly against his. Eddie's mind went blank, caught off guard by the sudden shift. Her hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss.

Eddie felt a rush of emotions—confusion, desire, and a longing he hadn't realized he felt. Still kissing him, Izzy took his arms and wrapped them around her waist, guiding him gently. He pulled her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against his. Her fingers lightly traced the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He eventually melted into their kiss, losing himself in the moment. His heart was racing along with the mix of feelings he could not grasp, each beat echoing the intensity of their connection.

What made it worse was the sound she made. A fucking moan escaped from her lips, when she called his name, awakening a deep, primal response within him. Eddie's senses were overwhelmed, and he felt a surge of emotions he could barely contain.

Just as he was about to lose himself completely, Izzy slowly pulled back, her eyes drooping but a playful smile on her lips.

"See, Brock? No big deal," she chuckled, her voice light and carefree.

Eddie stared at her, his mind blown by the experience. His thoughts were dirty and fucked up, mixed with an undeniable realization that his feelings for her ran deeper than he had ever admitted, even to himself. To Izzy, it had been a simple thrill, a casual display of affection. But to Eddie, it was everything. That night marked the beginning of being helplessly in love with her.

That night had Eddie tied in emotional knots. Being the obedient boy he was, he tried the things Izzy recommended him to do. But no other girl who came into his life could match what he had and sought from his best friend. She found joy in teasing and playing with Eddie, unaware of the simmering feelings he harbored for her.

He continued to visit Izzy's house to help her study, as was their routine. Her parents were always welcoming, appreciating the positive influence Eddie had on their daughter. They practically treated him like their own son.

They did study, of course. Izzy grasped everything she needed to know for the next day's finals, thanks to her ever-reliable tutor. But afterwards, the scene in her bedroom shifted. The once orderly pile of papers and pens now lay scattered across the floor. Izzy was on her back, and Eddie was on top of her, sharing another deep, passionate kiss. His hands tangled in her hair while hers roamed his back, pulling him closer.

Between kisses, Izzy broke the silence with a playful grin. "Is this how we study now?"

He chuckled, his breath warm against her lips, his thumb grazing her chin. "Come on, Iz. This is a well-deserved break."

She smirked, her hands tangling in his hair. "Guess you're finally loosening up, huh?"

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with hers. "I wouldn't say that."

In truth, Eddie's feelings for her were growing stronger with each passing day. He found himself drawn to her in a way that no one else could match. It wasn't just about the thrill; it was about the deep connection he felt with her. She was the only one who made him feel truly alive.

Izzy laughed softly, the sound vibrating through him, her eyes turning into crescents. "Admit it, you love the rush."

He rolled his eyes playfully, brushing her hair with his fingers. "Maybe a little... But you drive me insane, you know that?"

"Is that a complaint or a compliment?" She arched an eyebrow, her expression mischievous.

He leaned in for another kiss, his voice low and teasing. "Depends on how you look at it."

Her fingers gently traced the line of his jaw, her playful demeanor softening for a moment. "You know, Brock, I like this version of you more."

He grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. "Well, don't get used to it. Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble."

She chuckled, pulling him closer. "Good luck with that."

His lips trailed from her lips down to her neck, sucking and nibbling her skin along the way. Just as the intensity threatened to escalate, Izzy pulled back slightly, her hands pushing his chest gently away with her playful demeanor softening. "Hold on, big boy. Let's not get carried away."

Eddie groaned, a mix of frustration and amusement in his eyes. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

She grinned, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "I thought we established that I exist solely for that?"

They would often have their secret make-out sessions, but things didn't progress further. A boundary Izzy did not want to cross to ensure their friendship remained intact. For Eddie, it was a bittersweet reminder of the complicated dynamic they shared.

After graduation, Eddie and Izzy continued their friendship, although their paths began to diverge. Eddie started his career as a journalist, diving into stories and uncovering the truth with a fervor that earned him respect in his field. Meanwhile, Izzy wandered off on her adventures, always chasing the next rush.

Months passed without a word from Izzy, and Eddie began to accept her absence as part of her unpredictable nature. Then, out of the blue, Izzy returned from one of her trips, bringing along a boyfriend. Eddie's heart sank when he saw them together. Though their relationship didn't seem serious, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

Late one night, Eddie was back at his apartment, deeply engrossed in an article he was working on. His phone buzzed, and he saw Izzy's name flash on the screen. With a mixture of surprise and anticipation, he answered the call.

"Eddie," Izzy's voice came through, sounding light and teasing. "You've been distant."

She had her own way of being honest with him but still keep her fun-loving nature. It was another way of hers to avoid conflict. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice neutral, though he couldn't quite hide the edge of frustration. "I've been busy, Iz. It's the middle of the night. What's up?"

"I was bored," she replied casually. "And I missed hanging out with you."

Eddie's heart clenched at her words, but he forced himself to stay cool. "Why don't you hang out with that boyfriend of yours?"

There was a playful scoff from the other end, as if the answer was obvious. "Oh, please. You know me better than that. It wasn't that serious. Besides, he's gone."

Eddie hesitated, staring at the screen of his laptop, torn between his work and the pull he always felt towards Izzy. "I'm kinda busy right now, Izzy. Can't really go out."

"Huh..."

There was a brief pause before she responded, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. "That's fine, I'll just come over. See you in a bit!" With that, she ended the call before Eddie could protest.

He stared at his phone, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. As much as he tried to distance himself, Izzy always had a way of breaking through his defenses. Tonight was no different, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but look forward to seeing her.

Izzy had come over, and before Eddie knew it, their night had taken an unexpected turn. Now, they lay beside each other in his bed, their bodies covered by the sheet of his blanket. Turns out, Izzy missed him more than words could convey, and Eddie's jealousy converted into a territorial hunger that tipped them over the edge of the fine line they have been carefully walking on. They were still catching their breath from having sex. He cleared his throat, searching for the right words to break the silence.

Eddie was unsure how to process his feelings. However, it felt right, like a long-lost puzzle piece finally falling into place. It was a moment he had longed for, and now that it was here, it felt perfectly natural and meant to be.

Whenever Izzy was around, she came to Eddie's place, and that one special night became one of many. Then she'd leave to wander off again. He fell hard for his best friend, always there when she needed him, giving in to her whims and making her family his own. Upon her returned to San Francisco, she’d ring him up and come over with a bag of goodies from her travels. They'd share stories, with Izzy recounting her adventures and Eddie venting about his work.

One night, after they had shared a snack, Eddie was washing the dishes. Staring at his back, her mind raced, unsure whether this was the right time to say this.

"Eddie," she began, her voice carrying an unusual seriousness. "We need to talk."

He paused for a moment, sensing the shift in her tone. "Yeah, what's up?"

She took a deep breath, her thoughts tumbling over each other. "I don't want to be the reason you don't find the right woman for you."

Eddie's hand stopped mid-wash, her words sinking in. He tried to process what she was saying, but it felt like a punch to the gut. Izzy noticed his reaction and pressed on, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

"I'm going to be gone again, probably for months, maybe even a year," she continued. "If you meet someone else, someone who could be good for you, you should go for it."

Eddie felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of her words hitting him hard. He knew the life she led, the freedom she cherished, and he had accepted it. But her words shattered his hopes that maybe, just maybe, they could be something more.

Izzy stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him from behind and burying her face in his back. "Promise me, Brock, okay?" she mumbled, her voice muffled.

He sighed deeply, his heart heavy with unspoken feelings. He continued to wash the dishes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."

---

It had been a month since Eddie last talked to Izzy on the phone. She was off on another adventure, as usual, and he thought he could just sweep what happened between them under the rug. Tonight, however, was boys' night out—a chance to unwind from the stress of everything lately.

The club was packed, the music loud, and the drinks flowing. Eddie was with his friends, trying to relax, when one of them, Mark, casually mentioned seeing Izzy near the bar, not knowing was back in town. Surprised, Eddie looked to where Mark pointed and saw his best friend surrounded by her girl friends, laughing and taking shots. Before Eddie could stop them, his friends invited Izzy and her group over to their table. Their friends knew the two had always been almost like siblings. As the groups blended together, having conversations with each other, he braced himself, keeping his guard up and expecting trouble.

Knowing her for years, he understood that alcohol + Izzy = never a good combination. He should scold her about not drinking too much since she often caused trouble when she did.

Instead, they found themselves engaging in a game. They began betting on the occurrences within their sight at the club—predicting who would approach whom, who would get rejected, and other interactions of the nightlife around them. The loser of each bet had to take a shot.

They were lost in their own little world, and Eddie found himself losing often. Each time he guessed wrong, Izzy would giggle and slide a shot glass his way.

"You sure about that, Eddie?" she'd tease, raising an eyebrow as she watched him down another shot.

Izzy, on the other hand, had an uncanny ability to read the usual body language of the club goers. She had spent enough time in similar environments to know the subtle cues—who was interested, who was playing hard to get, and who was about to face rejection.

Her predictions were almost always spot-on.

"Watch the guy in the blue shirt," she whispered to Eddie, nodding subtly towards the dance floor. "He's about to get turned down."

He squinted, trying to focus despite the alcohol clouding his senses. "No way," he replied, shaking his head. "She's totally into him."

Izzy snorted, already filling up the shot glass for him to take. Eddie was making this too easy.

Moments later, the girl shook her head, and the guy in the blue shirt walked away, dejected. Izzy's laughter filled the air as she handed Eddie yet another shot.

"Drink up, Brock."

His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol he consumed. "This game is so unfair. You know this place like the back of your hand." he said, earning a chuckle from her, enjoying how endearing he looked in his slightly tipsy state.

"Well, I didn't force you to play with me."

What she said had a double meaning for both of them. Eddie suddenly felt hot and awkward upon hearing that, and Izzy only realized what she said when she saw his reaction. An awkward yet charged silence fell between them for a moment.

Eddie was feeling hot, literally, fanning his jacket. "Do you feel hot too?"

"A little bit. Want to go outside?" she asked, raising her brow in concern.

"Yeah, let's get some fresh air."

They slipped out of the noisy club into the cool night air. They didn't know if it was the alcohol or their underlying attraction to each other, but there they were, away from the prying eyes of people, in an empty alley. Eddie leaning back at the cold stoned walls of some old building to support his weight with his cock hard inside his best friend's mouth.

"Unbelievable." Eddie lets out a frustrated breath, his hand gripping on her hair. The warm and wet feeling of her mouth was as sinful as it was pleasurable.

It was made clear that the last time was supposed to be it. No more fooling around. Still, he found himself in a similar situation again. With a resigned expression, letting out a groan and rolling his eyes. She was too good, bobbing her head up and down, her eyes flicking up to meet his gaze, it turned him on even more.

She felt cock twitch inside her mouth, he was close. Her hands helped him reach his peak by aiding it with her mouth, moaning lightly with every stroke.

His breath was getting heavier, bucking his hips back and forth, his cock reaching the back of her mouth.

"Let me finish inside your pretty mouth, yeah?" With that said, his other hand gripped on her nape, guiding her to go even deeper, throat fucking her at this point. His cock was completely inside her mouth, gagging her. Unable to speak with her mouth full of him, she moaned, one of her hand rubbing his hips, signalling him to go, and the other was fondling with his balls.

Another loud moan elicited from his lips when she hollowed her cheeks, suctioning his throbbing dick. His eyes were shut, as her pace go faster.

"Ohhhh god.. Iz.. Ahhh..." she was starting to taste him, not long after that, she felt ropes of his thick and hot cum shooting the back of her throat.

Eddie hissed in pleasure when he felt her swallowing his load with his cock still inside her mouth, milking his every gush. It was a lot, filling her cheeks with a mix of his seed and her saliva. Pulling away slowly, she ensured no drippings wasted, his juices dripping down her throat. He was panting still, spent and drained. Looking at her as she stood up, wiping the remnants of their encounter from her face. Eddie hurriedly fixed his belt, his heart pounding in his chest.

The guilt and confusion hit him afterwards like a tidal wave, washing away the high of their session.

"Damn it, Izzy," Eddie muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and helplessness. "This isn't exactly what backing off means."

Izzy, unfazed, gave him a knowing smile. "You know you can't resist, Eddie. It's who we are."

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, the weight of his choices pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "This can't keep happening. I can't keep getting pulled back into... this."

He was a man torn between his desires and his responsibilities, a storm of emotions raging within him. He wanted to break free, but the pull of his emotions was too strong, an irresistible force he couldn't escape.

As Izzy fixed her blouse, Eddie reached out to smooth her hair, which had become disheveled from their earlier encounter. Despite his frustration, he couldn't stay angry at her for long. She knew him too well, perhaps even better than Anne. If he could blame anyone for this situation, it would be himself. He was the one who kept coming back, unable to resist the magnetic pull between them.

She smiled at his gentle touch and reached out to caress his cheek, her thumb brushing with the stubble of his jaw. "Are you done being angry?" she teased.

"You know I'm not. Just can't fucking help myself with you," he admitted, his vulnerability laid bare. As he spoke, he leaned into her touch, his cheek pressing gently against her hand, seeking the comfort and warmth she gave.

Her chuckle was a music to his ears, in turn, she always found him adorable. "Stop fighting it, then."

Eddie shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Maybe you're right."

"I know I'm right."

They were met with curious looks and playful inquiries when they rejoined them back in the club. "Where have you two been?" one of Eddie's friends asked, raising an eyebrow.

Always quick on her feet, flashed a charming smile. "We just needed a smoke break," Izzy said smoothly, her lie coming effortlessly.

Their friends seemed satisfied with the explanation, and the conversation quickly shifted back to the night's festivities. The allure of Izzy's unpredictability was undeniable, but so was his commitment to Anne. Navigating through the choices he made would be a challenge, but for now, he decided to let the night unfold, taking each moment as it came. He wrapped his arm around her waist, his thumb gently caressing her side from time to time.

Izzy leaned into his touch, the two of them existing in their own private world, where every touch and glance carried weight.

Their friends continued to laugh and chat, oblivious to the undercurrent of emotions between Eddie and Izzy. He was treading on dangerous ground, but in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to let go. The thrill of being close to Izzy was intoxicating, and for now, he allowed himself to be swept away in the tide of their shared history and undeniable chemistry.

-

Next part: https://www.tumblr.com/followsfrankiep/776894645064040448/dont-worry-about-her-eddie-brock-x-reader