#because it feels like it’ll never end and i’ll be scared and hurting forever

[chucklechampion]

evening dedicated to The Horrors

[misstycloud]

How Yandere Clark would react if the reader wanted to mate with him, being her first time.

This is if reader immediately accepted him and decided to move in with him. Also if she had no negative feelings towards hybrid’s courting methods.

——-

“A-are you sure?” He stumbled over his words. He needed to be absolutely certain this was what you wanted. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you’re not sure of.”

Clark winced at the thought. He would hate to bring that sort of pain to his mate.

“Clark, for the last time, yes I’m sure.” You huffed. You’d tried to convince him to mate with you which had transformed him into a nervous wreck of a bear.

“S-sorry…..I’m just anxious since I don’t want you to get hurt. Especially not by me…” his form slugged as he entered a depressed state. “It’s stupid, I know.” The round ears atop his head folded down in shame and sadness.

You crawled closer to him and stroked his back. It must’ve looked funny- a small, weak human comforting a giant bear-man like a child.

“It’s not stupid, Clark. Come here.”

The hybrid inhaled deeply as you enveloped him in a hug. Or, as you tried. The difference in size made it a little difficult. Clark loved getting hugs from you. Specifically, he loved when you would massage his ears gently while embracing him.

One of the reasons where because he could breathe in your delicious scent, and the other was because he never received physical affection from anyone before. They’d all get scared and avoid him like the plague the moment they saw his monstrous form. He understood where they were coming from, though. So he didn’t blame them. But it still hurt.

You were so sweet to him! And he loved you so much. At first, he believed he’d be leading a lonely life until he died of old age. But then out of nowhere, you showed up and brought love into his life!

He is very sensitive to everything concerning you, which of why he freaked out when you asked to mate. Sure, you two had lived together for a couple of months now and he’s accidentally seen you naked once when you’d gotten out of the shower and was changing. But even that was enough to make him profusely apologise and hide under the blankets with a flushed face.

He knew you two would one day complete the mating, though he didn’t know it’d be so soon. The truth was, he was scared. Scared of hurting you in the process of something that’s supposed to be connecting two souls and bind them into one. Deep down, it was why he was in no rush to mate with you.

What if he crushed you under his weight while doing it? Your bones, so flimsy and feeble would easily break. Or what if you died of suffocation? The possibilities were hundreds.

“Clark, my teddy bear,” he glanced up to see your kind smile. “You don’t have to worry about me, it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but since this is our f-first together I don’t want it to be a bad memory….”

You chuckled, “it defiantly won’t. You’re so sweet and gentle, there’s no way you’d hurt me.”

“But what if I accidentally-“

You grabbed his shin firmly, setting his widening eyes on you.

“Listen here, Clark. You are the most wonderful, adorable and cutest bear I’ve ever met. You are so nice to every soul you meet, even when they don’t treat you the best. There is no one sweeter to me than you and I love that about you. Clark, you are always so careful around me, it’s as if I’m made out of glass. But I’m not. So stop acting like I am. I need you to fuck me and finish this mating bond or we’ll dance around like this forever, and I’m not about that. You hear me?”

By the end of your speech, the man’s entire face was red with an awestruck expression. Did you just say all that? To him no less!

God, he’s one lucky bear. Being your mate is the best thing that’s happened to him.

A goofy smile graced his features, he giggled and said with a lustful glint in his eyes, “I’ll make you regret saying that. Be prepared, ‘cause we’re not leaving this apartment for a while.”

- 🐻

Yeah so mostly it’d just turn into a comfort session. Clark loves reader so much and he’s afraid of hurting her, even if it’s by accident! Poor baby!

This bear is simply just a nervous and overthinking wreck when it comes to reader.

Don’t be fooled though. There’s a lot of stamina and lust buried under all that sweetness. He’ll still be careful though, making sure reader is alright and prioritising her pleasure above his. It’s actually his first time as well, so he isn’t entire sure how to go about things, but he’s willing to learn his mate’s body.

Before he met reader. He wanted to know a thing or two about pleasuring your mate. So he typed that in the search engine and he had no idea there’s so much you can do.

Eventually, Clark being Clark, he had to turn it off. Then he went to hide in the bathroom out of embarrassment.

[your-lovely-rose]

⚠ ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤:

- Explicit contents

- NSFW: Sexuality/Violence

Minors Do Not Interact!

❝I don’t approve of Yandere’s behavior and unhealthy relationships - everything I write is just fiction!❞

~ Your Lovely Rose

← [List] | Not all of those were made from my own inspiration! | The middle picture from @vicemistress

1. “Welcome to your new home.”

2. “Better start getting used to it.”

3. “C’mon, what are you gonna do with that? I know you don’t have it in you to hurt me.”

4. “We’re supposed to be together forever. Why did you leave? It’s my fault, isn’t it? I did this? I pushed you away, right?” 

5. “I love you, I love you, I love you! Please don’t abandon me! Don’t leave me! I’m begging you!” 

6. “You promised! You said you would wait for me! You liar!”

7. “No, no, no, no! Don’t leave me!” 

8. “If you leave me, I’ll die!”

9. “I love you! Please stay with me!”

10. “Please love only me! Come back! Don’t be scared of me!”

11. “Escaping is all you think about, isn’t it? Always dreaming about it, always thinking about it?”

12. “Please don’t leave. I promise I’ll fix this just - don’t leave me here alone.”

13. “I won’t let you go.”

14. “I’ll never let you go!”

15. “You can’t ever leave me - I’ll make sure you don’t.” 

16. “Ah-ah. That’s not how this works. You don’t get to leave me.”

17. “As it turns out, you’re not allowed to leave me, so don’t even think about it.” 

18. “I feel like you’re trying to leave me. You know that’s not how this works, you don’t get to leave.” 

19. “Leave me? Oh, sweetheart don’t joke like that. I might actually take you seriously and someone might regret it later.” 

20. “If you leave again, I’ll have to remind you just how mean I can be.”

21. “This is what would happen if I didn’t take care of you.”

22. “I can’t let you go out… the world is so cruel - it’ll ruin you.” 

23. “I’m sorry that I keep you in here. But you’re too pure and innocent. I’m scared that this world will break you. I’m only protecting you.”

24. “I just want to keep you safe. Is that such a bad thing?”

25. “You know how dangerous it is out there. You’re so much safer with me.”

26. “Can’t you see? The world is a scary and dangerous place. If you stay here, you’ll be safe.”

27. “I know how fucked up this is. It’s just - there’s no other way I can keep you safe.”

28. “I’ll keep you safe.”

29. “I just want to protect you. Nothing wrong with that, is it?

30. “I do this for your safety, so why do you keep running?”

31. “No, you’re not going anywhere without me.”

32. “Leaving already? Stay a little longer. You know you can’t refuse me.”

33. “Would you run away if I told you that I wanted to keep you for myself?” 

34. “It is funny that you think you can actually leave me.”

35. “Just remember that I’m never going to leave you. That’s a promise.”

36. “What, you thought you were just gonna get away with that?”

37. “Why do you keep trying to run away?”

38. “[Your Name]… what are you doing?”

39. “Don’t even fucking look at the door. I am trying to have some faith in you after all.”

40. “Don’t you dare fucking try it. You know you can’t outrun me.”

41. “I don’t want to chain you up, but I will if I have to.”

42. “Do you want me to break your legs or lock you in a cage to prevent you from running away?”

43. “If you run, I will kill…”

44. “The next time I’ll kill someone I should take you with me. So you can finally see what happens when you try to run away again.”

45. “Come out, come out, wherever you are. I can hear you breathing, my love.” 

46. “Damn, you’re a lot faster than I thought.”

47. “I’ll hunt you down if I have too.”

48. “Get back here right now.”

49. “You went out yesterday. Stay here, I’m still tired.”

50. “Better to stay where you are.”

51. “Nothing is stopping me from coming back for you.”

52. “I’m going to have you in the end, you know?”

53. “Missed me? Because I don’t plan to let you go anywhere soon.”

54. “You should really stop trying to run away. I’ll always find you, you know? Me and you - we have a connection that no one else will ever understand.” 

55. “What I am doing? I’m punishing myself. Why? Because I upset you earlier.”

56. “One more chance! I’m giving you one more chance to fucking stop resisting!”

57. “You are mine.”

58. “You’re mine. You hear me? Mine. They can try to steal you away from me, but I won’t let them.” 

59. “So fucking good for me. So perfect… and all mine.”

60. “Every single part of you is mine! All mine!” 

61. “Tell me I’m yours.” 

62. “I just want to be yours.”

63. “Claim me, make me yours.” 

64. “Say that you are mine.”

65. “Tell me I’m good. Call me a good boy/girl. Praise me more. Please.”

66. “Give yourself to me. I’ll take care of you.” 

67. “You can’t hide from me.”

68. “I found you.”

69. “Maybe branding you will help.”

70. “You made me do it.”

71. “It’s only your fault.”

72. “Silly little thing. Don’t you realize that this is all your fault?”

73. “Do you care that much about him? You should think about it earlier…”

74. “I’ll ruin myself for you.” 

75. “I don’t want to do it but you don’t give me a choice.”

76. “Do you think I enjoy punishing you?! Because I don’t!”

77. “You know I don’t like doing this but you’re being too feisty.”

78. “I should’ve done this sooner. It’s what you deserve for being such a fucking brat.”

79. “I do everything for you and this is how you repay me?!”

80. “I can end all of your pain. You just have to say those three words.”

81. “It’ll be the family we always wanted~”

82. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll look cute with a swollen stomach carrying our child.”

83. “Please stop crying. You make me feel even worse. But you need to understand, if I wouldn’t have chained you to the bed, you would have tried to run away again.”

84. “Why are you crying? You knew this would happen, I told you this would happen if you ever tried to leave me.” 

85. “Shh… don’t cry over this scum, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

86. “You look so sweet when youre scared.”

87. “You have beautiful eyes. Even when they are full of tears.”

88. “You look stunning when you cry like this.”

89. “I love to see you cry.”

90. “Aw, are you gonna cry? Go ahead, it’s not gonna change anything.”

91. “Why are you crying? Who hurt you? I’ll make them pay for it.” 

92. “Shh, don’t cry. You’re safe with me.”

93. “I’ll protect you, no matter the cost.” 

94. “I’m only trying to protect you.”

95. “I’m not clingy! I just miss you, that’s all. Please don’t go away again.”

96. “I’m so alone without you.” 

97. “You can do anything you want to me. I’ll let you.” 

98. “I can be anything you want. Just tell me.” 

99. “Is it impossible for you to feel the same way I do?”

100. “You don’t have to hold yourself back. Show me everything - ruin me, I’m begging you.” 

101. “I fear that you’ll leave me one day, and it always puts me in an anxiety attack because I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

102. “You didn’t answer my calls or my texts - are you upset with me? Did I do something wrong?” 

103. “Oh no, you misunderstood me, my love. You will stay here, and you do not have a choice in the matter.” 

104. “Am I doing something wrong? Am I too clingy? Do I scare you? Tell me so I can fix it!” 

105. “Don’t say that! And please stop yelling! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

106. “I told you that I’d never break a promise.”

107. “I know you’re scared, but I’m doing this all for you. You’ll understand soon, I promise.” 

108. “Either you will calm down and start listening to me, or you will draw the consequences.”

109. “So cute. Begging like anything will help you.”

110. “You should know by now that I don’t take disobedience lightly.”

111. “I won’t be as forgiving next time.”

112. “Why are you so afraid of me? I won’t even hurt you. Yet.”

113. “Do I need to remind you what happened last time you acted out? Because I will if you keep pushing me.”

114. “I’ll show you how kind I can be! I’ll let you choose the death of this guy!”

115. “You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so goddamn reckless.”

116. “I’ll admit, that was a good hit. But now you’re gonna pay.”

117. “Brats like you don’t deserve to be treated nicely.”

118. “I didn’t quite hear that, care to repeat yourself?”

119. “Touch yourself for me and don’t stop until I tell you to.” 

120. “Do you want your underwear back?”

121. “I took your [name clothing] - it smells like you.” 

122. “I’m sorry I stole your underwear. I’ll give them back when I’m done with you.” 

123. “Oh, can’t find your clothes? You don’t need it.”

124. “Be good for me next time.”

125. “You’ve been so good for me. Don’t ruin it like this.”

126. “You’ve been such a good boy/girl lately. If you continue to behave so well, I might just reward you. Would you like that?”

127. “I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even be able to think about anyone else.”

128. “Keep moaning my name like that.”

129. “Say my name again like this.”

130. “You can deny it all you want, but your body is telling a different story.”

131. “I think about you last night when I touch myself…” 

132. “Tell me when to stop; I might just end up fucking you all night.” 

133. “No one else can make you come the way I can, right?” 

134. “Controlling myself around you is so fucking hard.” 

135. “I’ll fuck you until you’re too tired to even speak.”

136. “Fuck, you look so beautiful like this; squirming beneath me, sucking my cock.”

137. “Oh, you like being choked?”

138. “Kitten, I’m going easy.”

139. “Tonight we’ll become one.”

140. “The more you struggle now, the heavier your punishment will be later on.”

141. “I love you. You’re mine. And I’ll kill any bastard who tries to take you away from me.”

142. “Hearing you say that makes me want to fuck you so badly.”

143. “You don’t know how much blood I already spilled for you.”

144. “Let me leave my claim on you. Please… it’s all I ask.” 

145. “You look so pretty covered in my cum.” 

146. “I’m going to carve my name into your skin so everyone will know that you’re mine.”

147. “You look so beautiful like this… covered in all of my marks.”

148. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine. Don’t ever forget.”

149. “Will you let me ruin you? If you say yes, I won’t hesitate to mark you with my filth. Please, let me devour you…”  

150. “If I don’t mark you then how else will everyone know to stay away?”

151. “Let me mark you and I’ll let you do the same.” 

152. “I got a tattoo of your name on me. Look!”

153. “Look! I carved your name into my skin so everyone will know that I’m yours!”

154. “It’s a shame I have to cut your beautiful skin.”

155. “Try to stay still whilst I finish carving my initials, will you?”

156. “I want to feel your mouth wrapped around my cock… I think it would be heavenly, don’t you?”

157. “It seems like I have to remind you of who you belong to.”

158. “Darling, you look gorgeous covered in their blood.”

159. “Don’t cover my love bites or else I’m going to add more.”

160. “Hold still, I don’t wanna cut you too deep.”

161. “Don’t get me wrong but you look sexy covered in their blood.”

162. “Do you like these photos of you? I have a lot more.”

163. “I hate how I have to hide how much I know about you. I know so much about you, and I’m still learning.”

164. “You didn’t answer my calls or texts, what else was I supposed to do?”

165. “I-I’ll do everything you ask of me! Just please… please don’t leave me!”

166. “Are you mad at me? Tell me what to do so I can fix it. I’ll never hurt you ever again. I’m so sorry. Please…” 

167. “Please stop looking at me with such disappointment in your eyes. I can’t take it.” 

168. “Stop giving me that look! Stop looking at me as if I’m a monster!”

169. “Why are you so afraid of me?”

170. “I am the monster you created.”

171. “I don’t mind being a monster as long as I’m your monster.”

172. “I could kill you if I wanted to.”

173. “I could have easily murdered you without hesitation. But those eyes made me dizzy and weak.”

174. “I’d kill to have you.” 

175. “I’d kill for you.”

176. “If I ever see you with them again, I’ll kill them!”

177. “Am I too much for you?”

178. “I’d burn the world for you.”

179. “I would set fire to the world around me just to have you. But don’t worry, I wouldn’t let a single flame touch you.”

180. “I would go to the depths of hell for you.”

181. “I need you, you need me. It’s simple, but somehow you can’t understand this.”

182. “You’re weak. You need me.”

183. “You want to see your family? Why? You don’t need them.”

184. “Are you teasing me, love? You know how I get when you tease me.”

185. “It would be so much easier if you would just start accepting me.”

186. “See? This wasn’t so bad. If you behave more often, it can always feel like this.”

187. “Isn’t this better - you not fighting me for once?”

188. “Stop fighting me!”

189. “You do love me… right?”

190. “See, it isn’t so bad. Just relax, okay?”

191. “I’ll make you want me, just you see.” 

192. “I’m gonna make you love me.”

193. “You’ll learn to love me.”

194. “You’ll learn to enjoy it.”

195. “What I did, I did for us.”

196. “You are my purpose to live.”

197. “I’m doing this out of love.”

198. “I can’t help, but be selfish when it comes to you.”

199. “I need you. I’ll breathe you. I’ll never leave you.”

200. “Without you I’ll kill myself.”

201. “Scream, cry, hit me, hate me, I don’t care as long as you are with me.”

202. “I would do anything for you.”

203. “Listen, I’m giving you two choices. Either you start eating willingly or I’ll force you. There’s no way I’m letting you starve yourself to death.”

204. “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick. Because then you let me take care of you.”

205. “Consider yourself as lucky that I am nice.”

206. “Am I supposed to be happy that you’re not giving me attention?”

207. “Eyes on only me.”

208. “Don’t even look at anyone else.” 

209. “You’re just so cute while you’re distracted. But I would prefer you to be focused on me.” 

210. “I hope you’re thinking of me right now.” 

211. “You think this is an unhealthy obsession? Darling, don’t be silly. You’re mine and I’m yours. You understand that, right?” 

212. “Am I scaring you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I can be a little overjealous at times.”

213. “Don’t be scared. I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at them.”

214. “I’m normally not a violent person, but I’d do anything for you.” 

215. “Do you think I am crazy? It’s all because of you.”

216. “Yes… I’m crazy. Crazily, madly, truly and completely in love with you.”

217. “Even thinking about you with someone else makes me want to throw up.”

218. “I’m jealous, I’m so fucking jealous.” 

219. “I’m not the jealous type. But what’s mine is mine.”

220. “You think I’m jealous? Believe me, you haven’t seen me jealous yet.”

221. “Do you think I’m mad? Oh, you don’t even know how much.”

222. “I don’t know if I should be angry or turned on.”

223. “You’re thinking of someone else, I can tell. I don’t like it.” 

224. “Love is patient. I, however, am not.”

225. “I feel sick every time you talk about someone who isn’t me.”

226. “Can’t you see how much I fucking love you? You can’t just keep ignoring me like this.” 

227. “You know I love you, right? More than anything else?” 

228. “You’ll love me the most, right?” 

229. “You’d never betray me, right?” 

230. “All I want is your love! Is that too much to ask?!”

231. “I love you, and I know you love me too. Even if you refuse to admit it.”

232. “Please, just say it once.”

233. “Can you at least pretend to love me? Just for tonight?”

234. “Tell me how much you love me.”

235. “Tell me you love me! Say it over and over again!” 

236. “Say you love me. Even if it’s just a lie.”

237. “I need to hear these from you.”

238. “Let’s stay a little longer like this. Just a little.”

239. “You don’t have to feel the same. All I ask is that you don’t leave me.” 

240. “I need you. I! Fucking! Need! You!”

241. “Silly… you’re doing it again… pretending you don’t love me.” 

242. “I think I should hurt myself more often so I can get your attention.”

243. “The only person who truly loves you is me. It will always be me.”

244. “I’m nothing without you!” 

245. “I need you to be happy. I need you…” 

246. “But, I love you..!”

247. “You can hate me, but just don’t leave me.” 

248. “I’m doing this for you! Can’t you see that?” 

249. “It’s so sickening to think of somebody else touching you.” 

250. “Did you sleep well? Don’t lie to me, I watched you.”

251. “I won’t be able to sleep until I have you in my arms.”

252. “I can watch you sleep all night and still not feel tired in the morning.” 

253. “It’s okay, just go to sleep baby.”

254. “I want to kiss you until you’re gasping for air.” 

255. “If you don’t kiss me back, I’ll slit someone’s throat.”

256. “I’ve always dreamt of what it would feel like to kiss your lips…”

257. “Love… did I ever tel you how sweet your lips taste?”

258. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

259. “I hope you understand just how far I’m willing to go for you. How many rules I’m willing to break for you.” 

260. “I will change fate if you are not destined to be mine.” 

261. “You’re so pure and untainted… It makes me want to stain you” 

262. “See - you look pretty.”

263. “Your hair is so soft and silky.”

264. “Your skin is so soft.”

265. “You look so perfect like this.”

266. “You ruined me, is it wrong if I ruin you?”

← [List]

[sarakielsbreath]

Man. Having a brain really is the pits.

Diary entry warning

I think I’m more upset than I want to admit. I don’t think my medicine has really been working. I’ve been more active and energetic, but my mood hasn’t changed. It’s harder to sleep. I don’t want to sleep. I really really really want to die.

I try to ground myself. All sorts of ways. But it never really works. I guess you kind of have to think of yourself as being real and as being a part of this world for those to work. Because every grounding technique I try ends up being “this is nice, but I’m not supposed to be here”. That’s nice, but this isn’t for me. That’s nice, but I’m not a part of this. That’s nice, but I’m a glitch in the universe. I love standing in the sun and listening to the wind and birdsong, really taking everything in, but I never feel real. It all feels like it’ll just pass. Disappear. Or, uh, like I would just blink out of existence and the world wouldn’t even notice. Nothing would change, not even my friends and family.

Logically I know that’s not true, but when has logic ever helped anything? If logic and sense was good for anything, the world would be a lot better than it is.

Fun fact: I had to correct that sentence from being past tense. The world is past tense to me. It’s something that used to be, not something that is.

I need to be up in a couple hours and I can’t sleep. I want to be excited, but I’m just upset. I guess I wanted my family to be here. This is the next best thing, but I was still so disappointed. Still am really disappointed. Better sad with friends than sad and alone, but still. I’m just anxious and sad and lonely.

I know my friends love me. But again: this is logical knowledge. I’ve tried CBT with therapists about this shit, but it doesn’t stick. It seems like CBT relies on the harmful, false thoughts being something active. But they’re not for me. CBT about these things for me is like dropping a ball and telling yourself gravity isn’t real. Of course gravity is real, and no matter how you interrupt thought patterns about it, that ball is still going to fall down to the ground. I can try to interrupt thoughts about how nobody actually likes me, let alone loves me. I can try! But they’re not really active thoughts. They’re just basic realities. Gravity pulls things downwards. Heat is energy. Everybody dislikes me.

I don’t even know where I learned that fundamental truth. I know it’s not even true, but that’s the only way to describe how it feels. It’s not a self hatred thing for me, at least actively. It’s just… there. Everybody, at best, finds me mildly annoying. At worst, they find me exhausting. Nobody wants me to be around. At best, everyone tolerates me. Even my best friends. Even my mother. Even my dog. I don’t know how this became a facet of my reality, but nobody’s been able to figure out how to help me with it. Is it anti-recovery of me to say that therapists haven’t been helpful? I’ve tried a few over like, a decade.

I’m so scared, all the time. Even my mother or sister driving to work makes me scared. Even driving to the gas station makes me scared. What if the worst happens? What if they don’t come home and leave me alone, because something happened to them? What if something happens to me, and I ruin everything with my death? What if the one time I don’t tell them to be safe, something happens? I have to tell them to be safe every time. Otherwise, something will happen and it’ll be my fault. And I’ll have ruined everything because I wasn’t as loving and caring as I should’ve been. And I’ll realize that they got hurt because I never appreciated them enough and I’m awful and they died hating me and everything is ruined for the rest of forever.

I’ve been trying to get a job. I’m certain everyone is mad I don’t have one yet. It’s been four months. But I just… can’t. How do I look for a job if I can’t see myself having a future?

I just want to lay down with my mom and never wake up. And fade away so nobody remembers me anymore so they won’t be upset when I’m dead. It’s not like I’m supposed to exist anyway. I can tell. I’m just a glitch. Character that’s not supposed to be here. World would fix itself easy. Too bad I just don’t want to risk messing anything up.

Fuck, man.

[tehamelie]

Yes, baby. I’m afraid it probably will hurt. The science says at a certain point the morphine just can’t do enough, and you’ll feel pain. It’s going to be okay. I’ll be here all along. I’m going to hold on to you, and you can hold on to me, and if it hurts, you have to remember it’s not going to be for long. It will end. It will be over soon. Try to remember, this will pass. The pain is not going to be forever.

And then? You know, baby, we just don’t know. Nobody knows. It’s been sixty thousand years, it’s been maybe a hundred thousand million people, and not one has ever come back to tell us what’s there. The abundance of absence of evidence tells us there is nothing there, or at least nothing we here in the world of the senses understand to be things. It could be you live on in terms that are so radically different from anything we understand as “you” or “live” that we don’t -

It’s not really important. That’s for you to find out, that’s all. That’s the most we can say, isn’t it? And I think it’s also the most useful. We can think of it as an adventure, that’s as much as everyone can agree on. I never went on an adventure, in the traditional sense. This world is lacking in such adventures. It’s a cliche, but my greatest adventure has been having you.

It’s okay. It’s all right to be scared. You know adventurers, in the stories, they’re always scared. All they have is each other. You know. Frodo has Sam. And you have me.

No, you don’t have to worry. It’s all right to cry. Like, we were just talking about Lord of the Rings, you know what I’m saying, tears are not always bad. I’m just crying because. I have so many feelings. But they’re mostly good feelings.

I’m going to be sad, sure. I’m always going to be a little bit sad when you’re not there. But I’ll be all right. I love that you care so much about me, but I’ll be okay.

I love you.

I think, it’s not based on any science, but I think it will be like waking up. They say it’ll be like going to sleep,you just black out, but remember, nobody really knows. Think about the last dream you had. You don’t remember how the dream begins, but you remember how it ends. Remember the feeling when everything gets too much and you don’t believe it anymore and you wake up.

No, this is real. I’m real. I’m really here with my arms around you. I really love you. Other people in your dreams are just your own reflections, but I’m myself. But what I’m saying is, what you’re going to see, maybe it feels like waking up from a dream.

Imagine waking up from being awake.

I do not know. Nobody knows. But I think that’s what it’s going to be like. Yeah, okay, it doesn’t matter until then. It’s all right. I’m here. I’m here until then and fifteen minutes after. I’ll be here until the day when I die. And I don’t know maybe you will wait for me then.

I’m still here. I love you

I’m still here.

[gloryintheflowers]

dearest aunt barb,

i can’t believe I’m writing this. it feels surreal. everything has felt surreal, disorienting, since the moment three weeks ago when Evie told me “bubbie died this morning.” It made me dizzy. It made me sick. I couldn’t breathe then and I could swear I haven’t been able to take a full breath since. my world has shifted on its axis and everything feels wrong and I know it’ll never be right again.

You were just here. You were just on the other end of the phone. You were just answering in that way you always did, that “h’yello!” that was so *you*. You were just telling me about your day. You were just saying that you were proud of how far I’ve come, and screw anyone who isn’t. You were just telling me you loved me. You were just here. And now you’re not. And my brain is having a hard time reconciling those two things. I am still half convinced that you’re just away and that you’re going to call me when you get home. It seems impossible, even laughable, that you aren’t. You are a giant in my life. You are the brightest star. How can you be gone? It defies everything I know and feel to be true. You are still here. You are everywhere to me.

I’ve been numb since the funeral. I know I’ve been pushing everything down, repressing it. You’re always in my mind, but most of the time I don’t let myself really think about you— pushing the memories to the back of my mind, physically shaking my head so as to dispel them. I feel so guilty but if I let myself think of you that often, I’d probably go completely insane. So I feel that now-familiar stab of pain in my chest for just a moment, and then I push it away. I don’t forget— how could I? Even as I deny it with my entire heart, my whole body trembles with grief. I feel it in my lungs, in the way it restricts my breath, in the way my shoulders sit up near my ears, in the way every muscle in my body is taut as the string of a guitar, so often curled up in the fetal position as if to try and comfort me, protect me. I feel it in the churning of my stomach, the way it lurches when I open my phone to see the lock screen Alexa made me. It’s every photo I have of us except for one. Nine photos. Nine pieces of proof that we existed at the same time, that you sat with me, posed for a photo, both of us beaming with affection. It hurts to look at it but I can’t change it, either. Nine photos and that’s all I’ll have forever. When I see your face, it feels like I’ve just missed a step going downstairs. My stomach drops and I taste bile in my throat. I miss you, I long for you, I ache for you— in a quiet, desperate, lonely way. It’s like a sickness I already know there is no cure for— not distraction, not therapy, not medication, not even time, although I’m sure people will continue to suggest all of those things. I mean, I’m sure therapy will be beneficial. Lisa has known me almost as long as I’ve known you, and she knows all about you and the history and nuances of our relationship and what it’s meant for me. She understands the enormity of this loss. I’m sure that it’ll help to keep talking to her. And yeah, right now distracting myself does help, but it feels more like avoidance— avoiding thinking of you because I’m scared of how much it hurts. And I feel guilty because you deserve better than that. You deserve my tears, my pain, my grief, my howling, wailing, scream-crying into my pillows. But I can’t let myself feel it all right now. I just can’t. It terrifies me. I know you’d understand. I know you’d forgive me. And time? Maybe one day I’ll believe that, that time heals all wounds. But right now it’s getting worse, and not better. I can see the rest of my life stretching out before me; long, painful, entirely void of you. I don’t especially want it, to be honest with you. Maybe it’s insensitive to tell a dead person that you don’t want to live. I don’t know. But I’m also writing a dead person a letter. So maybe worrying about being insensitive is not my biggest problem at the moment. (I can imagine myself saying all of this out loud to you, and your reaction: you’re sitting in your recliner, eyebrows raised, shaking your head and reluctantly giving in to a smile as you say, ruefully, your voice rich and full of something between amusement and concern— “honey, you’re not well!”)

Anyway. It’s not that I’m entirely counting out the idea of ever feeling joy again. There’s a certain brand of joy that only you have ever been able to bring out in me and that is one of the many things I’m mourning right now, because that spark went out the moment I found out you were gone and I know it’s not a flame that can ever be lit again. You made me feel so many good things that were and so foreign to me. A kind of love I’d never experienced before and now may never experience again. Your love made me feel like the sun was shining just for me. Do you remember the second time I came to visit, over my holiday break in 2014? Do you remember New Years Day? Eventually I’ll write more about that, once I can do so without going insane with grief— but still, I know you remember. We talked about it. I brought it up in my poetry even years later. It meant everything to me. I stayed with my grandparents for much of that trip but really I was visiting you. And we were eating breakfast one morning when you started asking me questions about the kind of love and affection and encouragement and support I had received at home, past and present. It was like you were trying to solve a puzzle, and I saw the moment when it clicked for you. You told me that you’d often wondered what had been missing from my life before you came into it— what gap you were filling, what empty hole in my heart had prompted me to reach out to you in the first place. I told you, truthfully, that I didn’t know— but honestly, it seemed like maybe you did. You turned to me where I was rinsing my dishes in the sink and cupped my face in your hands, smiling gently. “It doesn’t matter,” you said, “I’m here now.”

And you pulled me into a hug, kissed my forehead, and pretended not to notice my tears or my trembling, borne out of utter love and happiness and something else— confusion, maybe, and the feeling that you get when you realize what you’ve been missing all your life, and the utter terror that comes with knowing how fragile it all really is.

I can’t imagine anything else ever bringing me that kind of joy. It was some kind of magic, what you did for me. You made every colour brighter. You made the impossible look possible; you willed me to live when every cell in my body wanted to die. You made me feel loved and whole and safe. This world feels so much darker and dimmer without you in it. Right now I feel like I’m in hell, like I’ll never be happy again. But I guess anything is possible. You loved this world, kept coming back to it with your arms and heart open— heart broken— so who am I to discount it? But even you said that time doesn’t make it better. You said that grief still hurts as much a decade after the loss— it just hurts differently, and you build a beautiful life around it, and you get through it with the people who love you and love them. But I’m alone here. And I don’t want to build a life right now. I’m so tired.

Right now it’s 6am and I can’t sleep. This is nothing new— how many times have I sent you a text between 4am and 7am because my insomnia was keeping me up and I was tired and my thoughts were racing and you were the only person I know who would be awake? Too many times to count, probably. You always held space for me. You were giving me room to express what I was feeling, you were giving me space to process it all, you were helping me hold my burdens and my baggage. It meant everything and I can’t remember if I ever thanked you for that specifically. I hope you knew.

I guess I should try to explain why I’m writing this, although I imagine you know. You’ve always known me better than I knew myself.

You being gone forever…it doesn’t feel real yet. It doesn’t even really feel possible. I’m afraid of when it eventually hits me. For now I’m coping by mostly pretending, and talking to you sometimes. I’ll look at your photo and pray that you’re listening but every time it ends in tears. Over the years I’ve often sent you long, rambling emails, sometimes with poems attached, just word-vomiting and working through my thoughts on the page, asking questions and looking for your opinion. You read them faithfully, sometimes emailing me back or else waiting until we spoke the next day, sharing your thoughts and asking me questions and sometimes cracking a joke or two about the sheer length of my writings. But you never judged. You held space for everything I was feeling and let me bounce it all off of you.

I know you’re not going to be able to read this. I know that you’ll never be able to read anything I write ever again, and you’ll never hold that space for me again, or offer your encouragement or opinion or advice, always starting by saying “may I make a suggestion?” I smiled every time you said that. Who would ever say no to you?

I keep talking to you out loud, and I’ll continue doing that, but I need to go back to the basics. I need somewhere to process all of this grief, all of this love and pain and loneliness and remembrance. Even the things that I don’t want to feel, like my anger— at myself and at the hospital and at a God I haven’t believed in for a long time and at everyone around me and even at you. The resentment, the shame, the way I feel lost and unmoored. I need a place to put all of the memories, even difficult ones— I am so terrified of forgetting any of it. A place to put those nine precious photos we have together. Ten years of talking to you almost every day and I’m already scared of forgetting the sound of your voice. It’s such a part of me— all of it is. You are. And now there is a deep hollow in my chest, like someone reached into my throat and tore out half my heart. It’s not just you I’ve lost, because you hold such a sacred space in my heart. I’ve lost a part of myself, a part of my identity, experiences I didn’t know I’d never have again, and so much more. It’s more than I can comprehend all at once. It’s the most tremendous loss and I can’t believe it yet. I just can’t.

As for the name of this blog— do you remember the poem I read to you the first time I visited you? The Wordsworth one— Splendour in the Grass? You thought it was beautiful, and I shared it with you several more times. It was my favourite at the time— it’s still one of my favourites. It’s technically about longing for the halcyon days of youth, but finding comfort and happiness in other ways as we age. And you aged so gracefully, my love. You never once complained. Still, poetry is so subjective, and for obvious reasons this poem has come to mean something different for me recently. It goes like this:

What though the radiance

which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind…

— William Wordsworth

I will grieve. I will probably grieve forever. But I will also remember all of it— the splendour in the grass; the glory in the flower— and find strength in all that remains behind. And I guess that’s another thing I’m hoping to do here— to figure out exactly what it is that you’ve left behind, to find strength in your memory, and to learn about who I am without you.

Please stay close to me. I don’t know how to do any of this without you.

All my love, forever.

Emily xoxo

[jade-parcels]

The genshin men: fatherhood edition

With: Childe, Zhongli, Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Venti, Albedo and Baizhu

—————————

Childe:

Ajax loves kids and he’ll make that known early on in your relationship

Like...This man wants five or more kids but he’ll settle for four. He dreams of a big family, getting to surround himself with you and your kids every night for family dinners, everyone getting together for big birthday parties or reunions! That’s his dream life! Plus, in Snezhnaya, most families have more than two kids anyways

He will cry so hard when his babies are placed in his arms for the first time, I mean he’s a mess. Nose is running, eyes puffy, lost of sniffling lmao he is so excited to be a dad!! Don’t you dare tell the other Harbingers how much he cried...What do you mean you took a picture when he wasn’t looking??? Hey??!?!

With his obscene amount of mora, he’ll buy a huge house that will accommodate everyone. Anything you want will be purchased that day or within 48 hours, the same goes for the kids

But they’ll all learn to be thankful for what they have. They’ll learn to fight, fish and speak multiple languages. He has high expectations but let’s face it, he’ll be proud of them no matter what

You’re gonna have to be the one to put your foot down though because Ajax doesn’t enjoy being the ‘mean parent’, he has trouble saying no to the kiddos which can create some tension between you and your husband. He has good intentions of course!! He doesn’t wanna say no to those cute, freckled faces!!

Zhongli:

Zhongli is nervous about having kids because he’s immortal. So this will go one of two ways. 1. You have the baby and the baby ends up not being immortal (or you adopt a baby who is not immortal) Then he loses you both. OR 2. You have the baby and it inherits his immortality and becomes an adeptus. Now he and the baby will have to watch you die while they both life forever.

Either way...It hurts him to think about because he loves you!! He wants to have a family with you!! He wants to give you that perfect family life every human desires!! But he’s torn

You two will just have to figure it out.

Zhongli will be a strong, male figure for your kid(s) and he will instill that traditional kindness and respect into their behavior. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ always, always offer to help someone who needs it, do good deeds and you will feel accomplished, be the best you you can be, alway try your hardest because that’s all that matters

He will be sure that your kid(s) always feel loved ALWAYS. Zhongli will tell them stories, cook for them, take them to school, anything that needs to be done. When you’ve had a rough day, he’ll step in to take over for the night without being asked. He shows interest in everything your kid(s) like and he will do his damn best to display every piece of artwork they make or every pretty rock they find

He...will make a great dad :’)

Kaeya:

Ooooh brother, at first Kaeya says no he doesn’t want kids but...Then he starts thinking about it

He observes the happy families that walk around the cobblestone streets of Mondstadt, how the kiddos smile and laugh with their parents. He’ll patrol in the afternoons, usually rounding the corner just in time to see the city’s kids leave school for the day, watching as they all run down the street to go home to their parents or play in the fountain together...Yeah, that really warms his heart

He’d want one or two kids, preferably two to avoid an only child being lonely. He isn’t on the best terms with Diluc but he can admit that they had a great childhood together, playing at the winery and running around as brothers do

Kaeya would be a very patient, understanding father. He doesn’t have much of a temper so he’d use the kids’ mistakes as learning opportunities instead of getting upset at them

He would be obsessed with the kids when they’re babies though oh man if you thought you had baby fever, he has it times ten! He loves holding the baby, watching with a twinkling eye as his baby grasps his thumb with its tiny hand... adorable

And if your kids inherited his eyes, his star shaped pupils that his ancestors passed down to him...He’s gonna get emotional

Everyone at the knights’ headquarters and the Angel’s Share will get sick of him REALLY fast cause he won’t stop bragging about how cute and smart his kids are lmao

Diluc:

Diluc would be such a soft dad don’t even get me started

He loves you so much of course he wants to have kids with you! Is that even a question?? He won’t be the one to bring it up unless he gets the feeling that you want kids but once you ask, he’ll agree so fast

He’ll be grateful to even have one kid with you :’) and he’ll be fine with however many kids YOU want. You want one kid? Perfect! You want four? No problem, the manor is big enough for ten! You...you want ten...? Time to hire some more maids then lmao

Diluc is a worry wart though, he’ll be afraid to hold the baby, feed it, bathe it, he’s terrified of hurting the baby or the baby suddenly hating him. So just help him out!! Cause when he gets comfortable with the baby, he’ll be in full dad mode

He isn’t embarrassed to walk around the manor, conducting business with a baby strapped to his chest!

Diluc is a very kind, gentle dad who will always offer helpful solutions to the kiddos’ problems. He’ll make sure all of their needs are met while also trying to avoid spoiling them... Too much... There will be a fair amount of spoiling...

His own father wasn’t too affectionate with him so that’s why he’ll be affectionate with his kids! Hugs and kisses when he tucks them in at night, big dad hugs when they get home from school, holding their hands in the busy streets of Mondstadt. His father was a great dad! He just aims to be better.

Xiao:

Like Zhongli, he worries about the mortality thing. Since he’s an Adeptus, his kid will certainly be an Adeptus too if you have kids together.

He also worries that his kid(s) will hate him. His duty is to kill demons which means that rain or shine, holidays, special occasions, day or night he’s gotta be ready to go slaughter demonic beings. So he’ll inevitably miss out on important stages in the kiddos’ lives

And admittedly... He’ll be scared of his kids lmao

They’re screaming, crying, barfing, pooping, laughing, screaming again...He can’t predict their behavior. It’s unsettling. All of that goes away one night when you sit him down and place your sleeping baby in his arms. His eyes go wide...And he just watches. This tiny, little baby...Feels no fear for him. It’s comforted by his presence. He almost cries...ALMOST

He’s still pretty much the same Xiao we all know and love but now he has a kid. “Slaying demons is what I do...Hey, go back inside and finish your dinner. Yes, even your vegetables. I don’t care that you don’t like them-...Fine. Don’t tell your mother, bring them to me. I’ll eat them” cute :)

He’s a protective dad and husband, he’d never let anyone or anything harm his beloved family

Venti:

Venti....does not want kids. He thinks they’re cute! He likes the idea of kids but he knows he wouldn’t enjoy actually having kids

You two already have so much fun together!! You don’t need a kid!! You guys have dogs!! Dogs are like kids! But they’re more independent and they’re cuter!

He’ll feel bad if you want kids and he doesn’t, he really will! But it’ll be nearly impossible to convince him cause he’s made his mind up :/

Venti’ll make it up to you somehow though, he’ll take you out more and show you all of the adventures you guys can have if there aren’t kids around

But for the sake of fatherhood headcanons, let’s pretend he gave in. Venti would be a very caring dad. He would cuddle the hell out of this kiddo and sing to them :’) the only problem is that Venti doesn’t like being tethered to one place for too long so he tends to take off and not come back for a few days... :(

Albedo:

Albedo wants kids mostly just to see what fatherhood would be like. He’s always been curious about what that part of his life would be like so why not have a kid

He’d be good with one kid, two at most cause after practically raising Klee, he knows how some kids can be and...He doesn’t have the mental capacity for more than two kids at a time lmao

He tries his best to show more emotion in his face. We all know he usually sits like this 😐 and goes ‘wow im so happy right now’. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was bored out of his mind right? So he’s gotta work on that. And when he musters up a smile for the baby and it smiles back at him????? Yeah...He’s gonna try to smile a lot more now

He definitely softens up once he becomes a dad, he shows emotion more than he used to and surprisingly, he takes time off of work. Shocker, I know! He decides that he’s been in the lab long enough and that he wants to be able to be there for these moments with you and his kid(s) :’) :’) He trusts Sucrose and Timaeus to take over for him for a couple hours

He keeps a journal for each kid and writes down the date and time they have their firsts or just interesting things they do ->

- 8/4: Baby sees and plays with a cat for the first time

- 9/5: Baby smacked me in the face and laughed so hard she threw up

-9/12: Baby learns that pulling my hair gets my attention. She now continues to do so

-10/15: Baby stays at Aunt Klee’s house for the first time

Baizhu:

Baizhu really loves kids, he works with them a lot and he considers Qiqi to be his daughter anyway but in terms of you guys having a kid together, with his condition he can probably only handle one kid running around

He will do his absolute best to be a good dad. Even if he feels like death, he’ll help change diapers, feed the baby, care for it when you need a break. He isn’t contagious so when you’re sleeping and he feels gross, he’ll sit back against the pillows with the baby on his chest, the three of you resting together (though he doesn’t fall asleep...that would be dangerous for the baby)

Baizhu already tends to nag at you about your health and lifestyle choices but now?? He’ll be a menace. He’ll be constantly evaluating your baby’s condition, checking to see if a certain food is giving them a rash or making sure their skin isn’t drying out. He’s hyper aware of your baby’s health and will be the one to treat them if they get sick

He’s a busy guy since he runs the pharmacy but he will always do his best to be present for your baby’s big milestones! And when your kid cries cause Baizhu’s medicine tastes like shit, he’ll do his best to not be disappointed in their reaction lmao

When you leave him alone with the baby, he’ll wrap a scarf around himself to tie the baby to his chest while he works and...he looks so cute :) dad baizhu <3 <3 <3 <3

Bonus points for him buying the baby toy medical equipment so he can get your kiddo interested in medicine :)

[silver-weasel]

Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki​’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…” 

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck. 

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick. 

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core. 

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to. 

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say:  “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

[crimsonkenjii-writes]

heyy it's the giyuu simp hiding in your request box ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ mind if i sneak in another request :> just gonna slide this with a belated valentines day card

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may i request a giyuu x reader headcanons? where its just giyuu and the reader living a peacefull and happy life with their kids, just fluff of how their every day life goes and giyuu with his kids :D maybe even some headcanons of the other pillars meeting the kids and his s/o (feel free to change the idea ofcc i don't mind if you write it at all (~^.^)~)

Hello fellow Giyuu simp lolol

This sounds really cute! Of course I’ll write it! ʕ◡ᴥ◡ʔ♡

This turned out to be very long haha hope you don’t mind :)

Giyuu x Fem!Reader with Kids!! ♡

AU: Life Without Demons

♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡

♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡

Giyuu was the first to ask for kids. It was a shock since you’d figure he’d be too nervous and insecure to think he’d be able to be a father. But he loves you too much to not have children with you. He just can’t picture his life without you and both of your guys’ children in his future.

“Y/N...” he approaches you timidly, “I have um something to ask you...” he kept fidgeting with his hands and struggled making eye contact. His cheeks starting to burn. “What is it, Giyuu??” He sat there a bit, his brows knitted together as if he’d trying to figure out how to compile his sentence. “Let’s have children!” He finally bursts out boldly. You were taken back for a second but smiled wide and hugged him, agreeing with all of your heart.

Giyuu didn’t want too many kids. He only wanted about two children. (Maybe three children he’s thinking on it 👀) And that’s what you both had. One boy and one girl. The boy took more of your looks but also had a good mix of Giyuu as well. He ended up taking his eyes and messy hair but had your hair color and overall facial features. The girl was a very good mix between the two of you. The boy was the eldest child.

Giyuu was the type of parent to spoil his children a lot. You often had to stop him because it got hard for him to say no to them a lot of the times. But when it came down to it, he knew when to be strict and stand his ground. Like if one of your children throws a tantrum for not getting the toy they want, Giyuu would have a stern tak with them about how they need to learn the importance of being told “no” and to handle it like a “big boy/girl”

Giyuu would also do whatever it takes to help you with anything around the house or with the kids. He’d also do anything to spend as much time with his children as possible.

Giyuu also secretly loved it when his kids would get nightmares and ask to sleep with the both of you. He really loved sleeping next to his family and would often invite the kids into the futon even if they didn’t have a nightmare that night. They’d always get really excited and join without hesitation. He also LOVES holding their hands. He loves how tiny and soft they are in his large, calloused ones. He also really loved having them ride on his shoulders

When it came down to being the good cop bad cop, you both had an equal share between it. I can see Giyuu being pretty strict but not to the point where it’s suffocating. He’d still take extra precautions to make sure his kids are safe and don’t get into trouble. He also tries to come to complete understandings with his children when they’re in disagreements with him. He’d sit and talk with them and make sure they don’t feel invalidated or hurt. Sometimes though, he’ll have to put his foot down and tell his children to listen to them and not question his thinking. He’ll often try to come back to them later and explain again.

Kamboko Squad and Pillars’ Reactions to First Born (and general interactions with kids)

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

When the news got out to everyone that you both were expecting children, they were all so very excited.

You were a few weeks pregnant and Tanjirou (and the rest of the squad) came by to visit and he was able to smell it off you. You were a little shocked how he was able to notice until he explained how his mom smelled a certain way when pregnant with his siblings. Then it made a bit more sense. Kind of.

Poor little boy teared up because of how happy he was for the both of you. He was so happy to see Giyuu with the love of his life and now starting a family. Inosuke got all those fluffy things around his head. He was very soft and gentle around you and it was really cute. Sometimes he’d just stare at your bloated stomach and it seemed like he was having a psychic conversation with the baby lolol.

Nezuko was very excited to meet the new baby and couldn’t wait nine months! Zenitsu was really happy for the both of you and it really warmed his heart to hear the baby’s heartbeat. He also got very scared for you because he heard that giving birth if very painful and he’d never want to go through something like that either.

They all saw your kids as their own little siblings, especially Tanjirou. Tanjirou is very good with kids so they ended up liking Tanjirou a lot and would often beg you to let him visit more often so they could play with him. Nezuko also saw them and her own siblings and would always volunteer to knit/fix their haoris if they ever got damaged. She always brought snacks (usually toasted rice crackers) for the kids when she visited. She also helped with cooking dinner when she visited.

Zenitsu loved playing with them. Until one day your son found a worm and showed it to Zenitsu and he freaked out and thought it was a snake for a second. He started to become more wary of your son from then on.

Inosuke shared his boar mask with them and would let them ride on his back as he ran around. He also visited one day with a nicely wrapped box (wrapped by Tanjirou) and gifted it to your kids. You and Giyuu were very confused to see that it only had acorns in there.

You had Shinobu do regular check ups with you to make sure the pregnancy was going well. Despite her constant teasing, she actually told Giyuu how happy she was for him. This really warmed his heart and he couldn’t thank Shinobu enough for all her help. She helped with both the pregnancies/deliveries

Mitsuri was so so SO excited to meet the new babies!! She seemed more excited than you and Giyuu! She loves babies and thinks they’re really cute. And the fact that it’s going to be yours and Giyuu’s baby??? Geez, that just makes it 10x more adorable!! She really really wanted to be the first friend to hold the baby so you granted her wish. She was crying so much, she was so happy.

The baby’s cheeks became very red from how much Mitsuri pinched them. She nicknamed him her “Little Mochi” because of his squishy cheeks. (and she nicknamed your girl her “Little Sakura”)

Obanai kept trying to deny how happy and excited he was. “Hmph! I don’t do babies. Not at all.” But then he saw its cute, little chubby cheeks and couldn’t resist. He then vowed to be the greatest uncle to your baby boy (and girl once she visited the world)

Kyojuro was really excited to meet the baby too. His booming voice scared the baby and made him cry so Kyo learned to be more quiet around him. He was so nervous holding the baby but then got more use to it and didn’t want to hand him back. He wanted to hold on to the little boy forever!!

Muichiro was mostly dazed out but waved his finger in front of him and your little baby boy held onto him. Muichiro got very happy. “Y/N, Y/N! Look! He’s- he’s holding on to me!!” You’ve never seen him smile so wide. He’d often visit and be like, “Can I play with him today? I’ve missed him.” And he’d play with him for hours! He was the same with your little girl as well once she came around.

Sanemi kept trying to act all tough. “No! I don’t care about kids! Least of all babies! I couldn’t care less about Tomioka’s stupid ba-“ his eyes widened when he saw the baby. Then you saw the most softest smile on his face for the first time. He hugged the baby tight to him and didn’t let go or move for a while. He might or might not have teared up. But you swore with him that you saw nothing 👀 He’d make plenty of ohagi for the kids and make some extra for you and Giyuu. Giyuu was very happy to see Sanemi opening up a bit more and glad he became better friends with him as well.

“Tch, don’t get too comfortable, Tomioka. I’m only here for my niece, nephew and Y/N.” He was teasing he loved Giyuu too.

Tengen and his wives were all over the baby! His wives loved the baby so so so much!! They even planned out a baby shower for you when they heard the news so a lot of your baby stuff came from them! Once he finally joined the world, all of them teared up from joy. They all took turns holding the baby, playing with him, bouncing him on their laps. Tengen said that if you or Giyuu ever needed help, him and his wives were right there anytime.

The wives loved playing with your daughter! They’d often do her hair and make it really pretty. They’d also often spoil her with new pretty kimonos and hairpins and always said, “Once she gets older, we’ll always have girls nights out! Do all kind of girl talks and girl things! It’ll be so much fun!!”

Tengen got the baby a whole bunch of shiny jewelry and was like, “Ha! Now your baby boy shall be flamboyant! Even more flamboyant than he was before!!” He also secretly found it extremely adorable how he looked like a little baby Giyuu at first. Then he grew to have more of your facial features and it just made it even cuter for Tengen. He had a little soft spot for your daughter because he thought having a daughter would be very precious so he’d literally do anything for her (and would protect her with his life)

Gyomei was SO happy!!! He of course teared up too and was very very gentle with him. It was kind of cute seeing such a large man hold such a tiny little human. It’s like he could fit them each in one palm. He was one of your go to nanny’s and he’d always wear a pink apron when looking over the kids. He’d spoil them with lots of baked sweets. Everytime he visited, he always had a new beaded necklace to gift them. They ended getting too many and he stopped at one point. But he still gave them one on their birthdays

Shinobu found babies/kids a bit icky since they do have many bodily fluids they can’t control and sometimes don’t wash their hands but she still did normal check ups with them and was very good with them. She’d often visit with some new toys for the kids. She even got your daughter and little butterfly clip. Your son felt left out so she got him one too. For a while both your kids refered to her as the “Butterfly Lollipop Lady” since she gave them lollipops after every doctor visit. She’d just smile chillingly at Giyuu and say, “Tomioka-San, I figured you’d at least teach them my name after all I’ve done for you and your wife.” She was just teasing, she secretly loved her nickname

Shinobu also really loved listening to the baby’s heartbeat through a stethoscope. She also loved putting her hand on your belly and often talked to the baby. She’ll never admit to anyone else but she really enjoyed doing these things with both your pregnancies

[imkylotrash]

On The Edge

Pairing: Riven x reader

Request: Reader is a water fairy & gets infected by a burned one and riven’s scared that the reader dies. Anonymous

“You know what? I’m done.” People lie when they tell you heartbreak doesn’t kill. You lift your hand to your chest convinced there’ll be a hole from where he ripped your heart out but somehow there’s no injury. 

“You’re done?” It’s masochistic to ask him to repeat it but you just don’t understand how an argument turned into a breakup. You’d mentioned that you were worried about his day drinking which you still are and he’d just lost it. Accused you of wanting to change him and being like everyone else. Clearly, you’d touched a nerve, but you never thought he’d break up with you. 

“I’m just over you always trying to change me. I am who I am.” He grabs his stuff before running out the door. Your feet seem glued to the floor because every time you try to follow him, your feet refuses to move. Maybe it’s the shock holding you in place. 

“What just happened?” Sky asks. Of course, he heard everything. He’s probably been waiting out in the hallway waiting for the fight to be over with. 

“We should get going.” You’re not ready to say it out loud. 

“I thought you said it was a bad idea?” 

“I changed my mind.” You grab his sword and hands it to him. Yesterday, Sky asked you if you were up for a little hunting in the woods to help Silva. You’d told him it was a bad idea and to let the adults handle it, but now you’d do anything to just get out of here. 

“Hey,” he says grabbing your arm, “no distractions. We have to focus when we go out there.” You squash the small voice in your head telling you not to go. 

“I’m fine, really.” You even plaster on a smile to convince him and poor Sky, who is desperate to help Silva, believes you. As you head out, you leave a note for Riven in case he comes back to tell him where you’ve gone and that you want to talk when you get back. It’s just that you don’t return in any condition to talk to him. You don’t remember Sky carrying you back to school or Mr. Harvey treating your wounds. For a while all you feel is pain. Your body is on fire and you’re screaming for someone to help you but it’s no use.

“Baby, I’m right here.” You try to locate the voice but it seems so far away. He keeps talking but you’re in and out of consciousness. 

“Please just open your eyes. I’m so sorry.” He keeps talking but you can’t hear him. The next time you’re conscious, you manage to open your eyes. Even in his sleep, Riven is clutching your hand. You try to feel out in the room but you can’t get a sense of water anywhere. Panic settles in your body. You’ve never been without water in your entire life, even just a glass of water would be enough for you to feel calm. Being in touch with your element keeps you calm but now you can’t feel it at all. 

Riven,” you croak trying to move despite the pain. Immediately, he’s awake asking what you need. 

“Water.” He runs out the door and returns with a glass of water. Just the feeling of it entering the room calms you down. 

“We had to remove everything with water in it while Ben treated the wounds. Your powers were all over the place,” Riven explains grabbing your hand once again. Silence settles in the small room as you drink the water but you don’t need Riven to say it out loud for you to know; you’re not healing. 

“Is Sky okay?” you ask and Riven nods. 

“He brought you back to school. He saved your life,” Riven says in a bitter tone.

“I’m so sorry for what I said,” he whispers finally looking at you. He’s seconds from crying and miles from how he normally acts in situations like these. 

“I didn’t mean any of it. I was angry and I took it out on you. When I came back, you were gone. I kept thinking if something happened to you, it’d be my fault.” 

“Riven, no one is at fault here except me. It was my decision to go out there. I’m sorry I scared you but I’ll be fine.” He keeps quiet and you realise there’s something he’s not telling you. 

“What is it?” you ask wondering if you’re even ready to hear what he’s about to say. Judging by the grim look on his face, it’s not going to be pleasant. 

“They were hunting in groups. Sky managed to kill one but the other got you. Silva’s out hunting for the one who hurt you.” 

“But that’s good news. Sky got the one who injured Silva,” you say not understanding why Riven looks ready to cry. If anyone can find the Burned One, Silva is the one for the job. He used to hunt these during the dark years. 

“We’re running out of time,” Riven says and it hits you like a brick. Sure, Silva is good at hunting these things - maybe even the best - but there’s only so much time before Mr. Harvey can’t keep the infection from spreading. You might die and all you can think about is how much it’ll destroy Riven. 

“There’s hope until the very end, Riven. If you don’t give up, I won’t.”

“Never.” He leans in and kisses your forehead. He’s being as gentle as possible but your entire skin is on fire. You smile promising yourself that as soon as you get a second alone, you’ll get to shed a tear. But right now you remain strong as you look at Riven who’s turned into a complete mess. Your heart breaks for the boy he truly is at heart and how scared he is of people leaving him. 

“Hey,” you say grabbing his chin to make him look at you, “I’m not going anywhere. We have to trust that Silva knows what he’s doing.” You take a deep breath signalling for Riven to do the same. Every breath adds to your pain but it’s worth it if it helps Riven cheer up. What hurts you more than anything is the pain in his eyes. For a moment, it looks like it actually helps then Sky enters. 

“You’re awake,” he states in a surprised tone. 

“I hear you saved my ass out there,” you say hoping to keep the conversation light, “thank you.” 

“Wasn’t easy. Had to drag your ass all the way through the forest. I’ll send you the check from my chiropractor.” You start laughing but it turns into a cough and immediately Riven’s frown makes a return. 

“You should take a shower, handsome. You smell.” Sky laughs locking eyes with you for a brief moment before helping Riven to his feet. 

“I’ll help you to our room, but you gotta handle the shower part on your own,” Sky teases and you’re forever thankful that your hunting partner knows you this well. Although, Riven protests it only takes Sky minutes to drag him out of the room. You finally allow yourself to feel the pain from your wounds. Trying to seem fine is taking its toll on you. Five minutes of self-pity and you’re done. You tell yourself over and over as you try to face the fact that you might not make it through this time. When Sky returns, you’re not quick enough to dry away the tears. 

“He’s showering, you still have a few minutes,” he says quickly and you fall back against the pillows. 

“I don’t want to die,” you whisper admitting the one thing you’ll never be able to admit to Riven. He needs you to be strong but there’s no shame in falling apart in front of Sky. 

“Don’t talk like that. Silva will find the Burned One and kill it.” Ever the fixer trying to see the positive. 

“He doesn’t have much time. I feel it in my bones. It’s spreading and soon Harvey won’t be able to stop it.” Sky tugs a strand of hair behind your ear with a pitiful look in his eyes. He knows you’re right and he knows it’ll destroy Riven. 

“There’s still time. Saul sent word that they were tracking one up North. It might be the one,” Sky offers with a smile. He’s giving you hope when there is none. You know you won’t make it through another night with these wounds. Your fever is too high for your body to keep up. 

“There’s a letter in a shoebox under my bed in case I don’t make it. Please give it to Riven.” You’ve always known that being a fairy comes with certain dangers so you didn’t want to leave unprepared. 

“What are you talking about?” Riven is standing by the door looking like he might break something. “What letter?”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you say trying to sit up straight. 

“Give us a minute, Sky.” He sends you an apologetic look as he leaves the room. Riven sits down next to you awfully calm. It’s the calm right before he explodes and you’re not sure you’re ready for it. 

“What letter?” he asks again making it clear that he’s not going to drop this. 

“I wrote you a letter in case I was ever injured and didn’t...” 

“In case you didn’t make it? But you said there was hope!” His voice is shaking but you’re not sure if it’s from anger or heartbreak. 

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to prepare for every outcome. I-” 

“There’s one outcome and that’s you staying alive. Do you hear me?” You bite your tongue and nod. The last thing you need is for the two of you to argue when you might not wake up tomorrow. Instead you pat the empty space next to you and smile. 

“Just be careful,” you whisper as he gently crawls into bed with you. He falls asleep there and at some point, even you fall asleep despite the pain getting worse. You don’t expect to wake up the next day but you do. The fever broke at some point during the night and the foul smell of your wounds have gone away. Not daring to hope you slowly lift up your shirt to find beautiful, pink skin rather than ugly slashes. 

“Riven!” you yell out in excitement. 

“What?” He’s awake in seconds looking for the danger. 

“Saul did it. He found the right one,” you exclaim lifting up your shirt to show him the healing wounds. Your hands are shaking as you cup his cheeks and kiss him. You’re going to be alright. 

“As soon as Mr. Harvey clears you, we’re burning that letter. You don’t get do die on me, alright? Not before we’re old and grey.” You can’t help but smile at the thought of growing old with Riven. 

“Okay.”

[staticscreenwriting]

HOME // Bucky Barnes

Request: Could you do a Bucky Barnes imagine where he blips but the reader is pregnant so when he comes back he meets their daughter? If not that’s totally understandable and I hope you have an amazing day/night 💕

A/N: Look, I love writing angsty Bucky. But I also love writing happy Bucky. Hope y’all love reading this ♥  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

Join my taglist here! [additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Thanos being defeated was not the end of it all. It seemed like it. The grand heroic solution to all problems. The ultimate test before things got better. Before they got easier.

That was a lie.

Bucky looks across the vast area of the Stark’s estate as people, all dressed in black, mourn the loss of a dear friend, an idol, a husband, a father.

That word sends a wave of anxiety and fear through him. He knows he can’t run forever and really, he doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t know how to deal with — everything. How to be the man he needs to be. How to step up and not fuck this up.

Sometimes fear makes you do stupid things, really stupid things. Like avoiding the love of your life because you are too afraid of what she might think of you.

His eyes find (Y/N) as she leans against a tree, lips pulled into a sad smile as Sam rambles about one thing or another next to her. This isn’t right. Sam shouldn’t be the one cheering her up and trying to get her to smile. It should be him. If only he wasn’t such a coward.

People don’t talk about these things though. They only talk about those that had been gone now being back again. They talk about the joy of being reunited but not the fears, the sadness, the disappointment — and they sure as hell don’t talk about the guilt.

The guilt of coming back after 5 years to find out you missed so many important moments in the life of a child you never knew you had.

His eyes wander down towards the little girl holding on tightly to her mother’s hand. She has his eyes, his dark hair, his lips. She’s a spitting image of his younger sister. A Barnes through and trough.

Every time he looks at her his heart beats out of his chest in a way he’s never felt before. When they say that the love for your own child is an instant emotion, they are not wrong or exaggerating.

The moment he came back from oblivion and first laid eyes on her, it felt like his heart had known her all his life. He wanted to hold her and shelter her from all the bad things the world might throw her way. Wanted to kiss her little nose and read her stories and sing her silly little songs. He hated singing but for her, he wanted to do it. Just because that’s what dads do.

But fear is one hell of an emotion and above all, it’s terribly convincing.

He’d never had a particularly good example of a father. It was different times then. Different ways of raising your child. Fathers weren’t meant to show affection, they were meant to enforce rules and order. How could he ever be good at this? He doesn’t have a single clue how to do any of this.

And then there’s the fact that he’s left (Y/N) alone to deal with all of this. Every first has been forever taken from him. First breath, first cry, first word, first steps. Every little thing.

Would she resent him for it? For not being there when it mattered?

So he ran. He came back and he ran.

She doesn’t deserve this and neither does (Y/N). They deserve so much better.

“ It’s time Buck. “ Steve speaks up as he leans against the porch railing next to his oldest friend.

“ Are you still sure about this? “ Bucky asks, not taking his eyes off of his girls. His stomach feels like he’s swallowed a bag of bricks. Life was supposed to be easier after Thanos. This isn’t easy. This is just scary. And sad.

“ That, “ Steve says and nods his head towards (Y/N) and the girl “ that’s your second chance. I gotta take mine. “

Bucky turns to look at his friend trying to figure out what to say next but coming up empty. What do you say to that? Steve deserves to be happy. He deserves to be where his heart always has been. Does it mean Bucky thinks it’s the right choice? Not necessarily. But he understands. Had it been him and (Y/N) he would’ve crossed time and space to be with her.

Which is ironic to think because now all he does is avoid her. Because that’s the coward he is.

“ Alright let’s go. I’ll grab Bruce you do — whatever you gotta do. “

He dares to send one last look towards (Y/N) and this time she’s looking back with a soft eye and a timid little smile on her lips. None of which he is deserving of.

Steve let's go of Sam, parting with one last friendly slap on the back before turning towards Bucky.

Bucky's throat feels dry and rough and while his head is swirling with words he wants to say, none of them really make it past his lips. He's known about Steve's idea for a few days now, has had time to let it settle and come to terms with it. It still breaks his heart but sometimes that's what you do for the people you love. You support them on their path to happiness even if it hurts you in the process.

"I'll miss you," Bucky finally manages to say and he wraps his arm around his friend's shoulder. "You'll always be my brother."

"I know. I'll miss you too. But I know you're in good hands." Steve responds and lets his gaze wander towards the house, no doubt talking about (Y/N) and the kid.

"Promise me something, Buck." He says as he pulls away.

"Anything."

"Talk to (Y/N) and get to know your daughter. She's a Barnes through and through. And she loves you so much, they both do. Let them. Love 'em back."

"Kid doesn't even know me," Bucky murmurs, nervously glancing at the floor.

"What? You really think that? Buck, all we did for the last 5 years was try to keep your memory alive. For us but especially for her. We showed her pictures and videos and (Y/N) told her so many stories. She knows you and she loves you and for the first time in her life, she's living in a world where her dad is alive and present. Go, be with them. You guys need each other."

He's right. Of course, he's right. Steve has this fantastic ability to be right when it matters.

“And don’t do anything stupid until I get back!” Steve adds, making a small smile appear on Bucky’s face.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you. “

They embrace each other one last time before Bucky whispers another “I’ll miss you” and Steve tells him that “It’ll be okay, Buck”.

And then everything happens so fast. One moment he’s living in a world where his best friend is by his side and a minute later all of that has forever changed.

Bucky wipes his eyes with the back of his hand one last time before looking at himself in the mirror. He knew this moment was coming, Steve told him. He had time to come to terms with it and yet it’s a completely different situation now that it’s done. Parting with the only family you’ve ever known breaks your heart in ways you’ve never known are possible.

As he steps out of the bathroom something solid crashes against him and as he looks down, a pair of identical blue eyes stare back at him. He’s not been this close to her since he found out about her, keeping her at a distance. To protect her.

His arm was made to kill how could it ever hold a child and keep it safe?

She stares at him for a moment before a small “Hi” falls from her lips. It’s shy and timid and adorable and all Bucky wants to do is cuddle her to his chest and never let her go.

He doesn’t get the chance though as another little girl rushes past them and calls out to his daughter to follow her which she does.

“Who is that?” Bucky hears Morgan question.

“That’s my daddy, but I don’t think he wants to see me. Mommy says he needs time but —“

He doesn’t hear the rest of her words as the girls round the corner and get swallowed by the sounds of the other guests still mulling around sharing stories about their fallen hero.

But it’s enough. He doesn’t need to hear more. Those words are enough to rip his heart out of his rib cage, crush it up into a million little pieces, and spread it in the winds, never to be able to be put together ever again.

“Hey have you seen — oh Bucky are you okay?”

He doesn’t deserve her tenderness, her kindness, and her care, and yet she still exudes the same love she’s always held for him. Love he was never deserving of from the beginning.

It doesn’t matter at that moment though, who deserves what and who doesn’t. He’s too caught up in the breaking of his own heart. So he falls into her arms as silent tears slowly but surely make their way down his cheeks.

“She thinks I don’t want to see her.”

“Who does?” (Y/N) says as she gently combs her fingers through his long hair.

“My own daughter. “

(Y/N) pulls away slightly, holding onto his shoulders and looking deep into his eyes.

“Are you ready to talk about this now? Ready to stop avoiding me ?”

Bucky only nods and lets her lead him outside past the guests and down to the lake where it’s quiet and serene and life seems to slow down a little. She keeps holding on to his hand, his vibranium one, as they settle on a bench facing each other.

“ I missed you, Bucky.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He’s been told those words so many times and it’s still hard to believe in them. Even when he knows they’re true. There will always be a hint of doubt since him. Always.

“I don’t — I don’t want her to think I don’t love her. Or want to be with her. I do love her very much. More than I have ever loved another person, including you, and you are my everything. I’m just overwhelmed and — and scared.” He admits. It’s the first time he says those words to anyone but himself. It feels good. It feels right. But it doesn’t take the fear away or the guilt.

“James, she knows you love her. Not a day went by that I didn’t tell her how much her daddy loves her and wants to be with us. And it’s okay to be scared. I was scared and I only had to deal with a baby, not an opinionated 4-year-old. It’s okay to be scared but you can’t let the fear hold you back. You’re the bravest man I know. You laugh in the face of danger. What changed?”

“Stakes are higher this time. What’s losing my life compared to ruining my daughter’s?”

“You’re not gonna ruin anyone’s life, Buck.” (Y/N) exclaims and softly pets the side of his face. She’s always been so gentle with him. Such a contrast to the touches he was used to.

“I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. Mine wasn’t a very good example. I have been trained to kill, to cause pain. My arm is a weapon.”

“Your arm has shielded me from bullets and harm so many times. It’s held me close at night and wipes my tears when I was sad. Your arm is only a weapon if you use it like that. And all the other stuff, that’s not you anymore. You know this. “

He can see the treads now welling in her eyes too and it makes his heart twist and constrict in many painful ways.

“And I left you alone during all of it. Missed the last 4 years of her life and the entire pregnancy. How am I gonna make up for that, for leaving you alone?”

It feels like once he’s started talking he can’t stop. All his fears and worries flow from his lips like tidal waves in an ocean. Crashing against the shore of truth.

“You didn’t leave us Bucky. You were taken from us. We never blamed you for that. I know you wanted to be there. I never doubted that for a second. Look, I had 9 months to come to terms with my fears, you didn’t have any time to face them. I get why you are freaking out but uh — it’s time to step up. You know what makes a good dad? Being there when he can be. Showing he cares. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I can.” Bucky promises and smiles a smile of content. One of hope. His fears and his guilt aren’t gone. But maybe if she believes in him and Steve does, maybe he can be the man and the father he needs to be.

“Good. We really do love you, Buck.”

“As in present tense?”

“Of course. We never stopped. Now can I ask one more thing of you?”

“What’s that?” In the end, it wouldn’t really matter. Whatever she asks he’ll do it. For her, he’ll do anything.

“Can you kiss me? I’ve been waiting for 5 years to finally kiss you again. I can’t hold out much longer. “

He grants her not one kiss, not two. In fact, he loses count as they get lost in many many loving kisses. Maybe, Bucky thinks, soulmates really are a thing. Maybe there are people on this earth meant to find each other. Meant to go through hardships together and still find their way back to one another in the end.

Whatever one chooses to believe in. Bucky is certain she is his person in this life and the next and through whatever might come their way.

He’s sitting on the big red couch in (Y/N)’s apartment, nervously fumbling with the tassels on one of the throw pillows as his eyes wander around the room. There are so many pictures, hung on the walls and placed on side tables and shelves. His child’s entire life up to now, caught on film for him to relive if only in his mind.

There are pictures of him too. One of him and Steve in the 40s, laughing and leaning against each other in support. (Y/N) always said it was one of her favorites. “You’re so happy in it. That’s how happy I want you to be all the time.” She’s told him once.

Next to a picture of (Y/N) and their daughter is a picture of him. He’s sure it’s placed there deliberately. To remind everyone he is a part of this family, even when he wasn’t there.

He is here now though. The next picture put up will be one of all three of them.

The front door opens and a melody of voices echoes through the place. (Y/N)’s laughter and the sweet giggle of his little girl. It’s his favorite sound in the world, he decided then and there. Nothing will ever compare.

The girl rushes into the room then comes to an abrupt stop in front of him.

“Hi,” she says in the same small voice as she did at the Stark’s house. Only this time Bucky doesn’t just stand and stare at her, unable to move or speak.

This time he holds out his arms and speaks up.

“Hi, I — I'm sorry it has taken me so long. I don’t know what I was thinking. I love you, Darling. Can I hug you?”

She doesn’t say yes or no, doesn’t glance at his vibranium arm with hesitance of fear. She falls right into him, wrapping her little arms around his neck and cuddling into his chest. It feels like this is where she belongs, like this is where she was always meant to be. Like his arms were made to hold her and never let go. And maybe, Bucky thinks, maybe they were.

“I love you too, daddy.”

He liked being a sergeant. It’s a title that has always filled him with pride. It has nothing on the title of being a dad. That one means so much more. Fills him with a pride and love he’s never previously known.

For the next few moments, he gets lost in the feeling of holding his child. A perfect little girl who is part of him. The good. Only the good. It all comes together in her. No nightmares or guilt or fears. Only love. So much love. He holds her close to his heart, wishing he could’ve done this when she was just a baby. Feel her heart beat in rhythm with his. He places little kisses up and down her small face. On her chubby little cheeks and her cute bottom nose, making her scrunch it up and let out soft giggles.

It’s strange to be the man he is and act so gently with another human being. But it feels so right.

His eyes find (Y/N)’s across the room, filled with tears though this time they are happy ones. With an outreached hand he beckons her over and pulls her onto the couch and into the hug.

This is right. Nothing has ever felt this real. This happy. This perfect.

His girls cuddle into him with nothing but love filling their hearts. This is the life he wants, the one he has always wanted. The life he fought for. The life he will never stop fighting for.

Steve was wrong. They aren’t his second chance.

They’re his only chance.

His destiny.

His family.

His home.

TAGLIST:  @stayherefor-evermore  - @booksb4looksstuff​ - @captainofallfandoms - @charmed-asylum​

[luimagines]

I really quickly wana say that I absolutely love your writing, its very different and unique. Could you do a scenario of the boys confessing while the reader is seriously injured or upset?

Masterlist

So you all want Link to Confess?

You want it to be filled with tension?

I can do that.

This will once again be split up. This part will include Legend, Four and Time.

Content under the cut.

Legend

“I can’t.” You say. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this with you.”

Legend bite his lip at your words. His hands are clenched into fists at his side and he looks away from you painfully. He doesn’t know why it’s come down to this or how you both even got here to begin with.

You don’t notice. You wipe your eyes harshly with your fist and sniffle loudly. “I don’t want to fight you. I’m not fighting you. I’m done. I’m done.”

You gulp and turn on your heel taking a few steps away before Legend can even get his words out of his mouth.

“No. Wait. Please.” He chokes on them and nothing else leaves his mouth for a solid minute.

You’re waiting for him to continue. 

He knows it. 

He doesn’t know why he can’t get his words out. Out of all the times for his words and his throat close off, this is the last place he wants it to happen.

You don’t look back at him.

He gulps and his hands lifts out to you against his consent. Legend can feel his tear build up behind his eyes. There’s something in his gut that’s telling him to move, to act, because it’s his last chance. If he screws this up then your relationship is beyond repair.

He knows it.

You take a deep breath and he can see you fold over yourself, no doubt crying silently at this whole exchange.

You sniffle loudly again and shake yourself off.

“Link...” You say and he’s never hated the way you say his own name so much. There’s so much pain... resignation... and finality. “I can’t let you keep hurting yourself like this. I can’t. I know you’re doing this for me but I hate it. I care about you too much to see you take hit after hit and for you to act like it’s not a big deal.”

“But-”

“NO!” You yell and your voice cracks with it. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t bare to see how little you care about yourself. How little you think everyone thinks of you. And then when I try to tell you, you just yell at me. Tell me that it’s not my business. Tell me that I underestimate you. Tell me that I don’t know what I’m talking about or that I can’t tell you what to do. AND I KNOW I CAN’T. But I... I can’t...I just can’t...”

Legend can feel his tears run down his face and he has to unstick his feet from where he stands to make his way over to you.

You still don’t look back.

“By the stars, you have to hate me with how annoying I’ve been.”

Legend can feel more tears spill at your confession. I don’t hate you, he thinks. I could never hate you. How could anyone hate you?

“And even then I know I’m the last person you want to hear this from and it just makes it worse each time this happens but I....” You heave and it’s painful to hear because it sounds like your fighting for your life. “I’m the only one who says anything and I don’t know why and I don’t care what the group may think but this hurts. This hurts, Link. And I don’t think you care.”

Legend stops behind you, his heart bleeding with every tear he knows you’re shedding. But he still can’t bring himself to make his voice work.

“I have to leave.”

No.

“I can’t be here anymore.”

Please.

“I can’t look at your face and let this happen.”

Don’t leave me.

“Next town over, I’m staying there. I don’t care how far away I’d be from my home. I’ll find my own way back. You lot can keep fighting the darkness without me.”

“Don’t go.” Legend finds his voice again but it’s quiet and he doubts that you even hear him. So he says it again, trying to be louder. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

His hands grips your sleeve but he can’t tell when he got so close to you.

“Don’t say that.” You snap and turn your face away from him, ripping your arm away from him. “Don’t say that like you care.”

“I do care!”

“You don’t!”

“I do!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“But I love you!” Legend shouts and his own intensity scares him for a moment.

You both freeze and a fragile stillness blankets the air.

You finally look at him again and blink. You look miserable and he knows it’s his fault. You try to blink away any remaining tears and bravely face him head on. He’s the one who nearly chickens out and looks away but this is too important. He owes you this much. He has to see this through to the end now.

You bite your lip and whisper. “What did you say?”

“Of course I care.” He chokes on his own spit and he knows that this is the make or break. His final chance to win you over or he’ll risk losing you forever. He can’t afford to let his own words fail him. “I care because I love you. I fight for you because I love you. I take those hits because I love you. I don’t think I can handle a reality where you’re hurt. I’d take every hit for you if I could. If it would just mean that-”

“Well don’t.” You snap. 

Legend’s heart drops to his stomach at your words and he thinks this is it. He’s lost. There’s no coming back from this.

“Stop taking my hits.” You sniffle and rub your eyes again. “God... Link, you’re so stupid.”

“I... I just-” Legend looks away as he loses his nerve.

“I love you too.” You admit and his neck almost cracks with how fast he looks back up at you.

“I love you so much, you stupid idiot.” You laugh. It’s wet and weak but you’re laughing. “If you hate to see me hurt, how much do you think I hate seeing you hurt?”

“It’ll hurt more to see you leave than every hit I’ve ever taken in my life.” Legend blinks away more tears. You’re both ugly crying and nothing about this is pretty but Legend feels just the smallest ray of hope in his heart that maybe you’ll stay and let him love you.

Maybe you’ll love him in return.

It’ll be more than what he’ll ever ask for.

“Don’t go.” He tries again. “Please don’t go.”

“I don’t want to go.” You fall to your knees. Legend is quick to fall with you and he places his hands on your shoulder to keep you upright. “I don’t want to leave this group. I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to leave at all.”

“Then don’t.” Legend’s voice cracks this time instead. “Don’t leave. Stay. Stay with me. Please. I’d do anything.”

“Stop getting hurt idiot. That’s all I’m asking.” You snap and place your hands on his face.

Legend leans into your touch and you wipe away his tears with your thumb. “I don’t think I can make that promise.”

“Then don’t get hurt on my account. Promise me.” You press. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” Legend sighs and picks at his sleeve, tugging it into his palm to wipe away your tears. “I just want you safe so you don’t have to.”

“I’m already traveling with the group. I don’t think that can be helped.” You snort and move closer to him. You wrap your arms around him and hold him close, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

Legend’s heart is absolutely pounding in his chest right now. He’s almost certain that you know it with where your ear is. He wraps his arms around you as well, holding you as tight as he can. “I love you.”

You grin against him. “I love you too.”

Four

Somewhere in the dungeon Four has lost everyone around him.

He doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t know where the group is. And he doesn’t know how exactly to get back to you- the group. Back to the group.

“Hello!” He hears you call. “Anyone nearby?! Time! Sky! Four!”

Four’s heart begins pounding and against his better judgment he begins to sprint over to where he heard you call. He so badly wants to see you. To see that you’re ok. That you’re alright.

You’re not ok.

He can see you... but you’re not you.

Kinda, technically- Four’s not actually not sure what he’s looking at right now only that it’s bad.

For one thing, you’re looking at him with a large smile on your face. There’s a bloodied knife in your hand and a whole lot of blood by your feet. Behind you is an open room, with ropes hanging from the ceiling and what looks to be shelves of multiple sharp metal items on top of them.

Four’s heart going from pounding to a full stop. There’s something off about you. There’s a trail of blood going from your forehead down to your chin and multiple dark patches of what can only be more blood on your clothes.

Four says your name as he takes a step back. “What happened to you?”

Why are your eyes completely black?

“Four.” He hears you say and it’s his worse nightmare.

Mostly because your voice doesn’t come from the person in front of him.

The being in front of him take a side step and he can see where you are.

You’re what’s hanging from the ropes, blood pooling underneath you as it weeps around your binds. You look tired and horrible. Four’s heart jump starts into his throat and he’s not sure for a second whether he’s going to cry or vomit.

“Holy Hylia...”

“Four. Run.” You say from your binds. “Get out of here! Find the others! Go- Go on without me! ...I’ll be ok”

He doubts that.

Four reaches for his sword and takes a stance in front of your evil twin. 

“Four don’t.” You try to fight the ropes but you’re too weak. On top of that you’re too high up. Even if you could get out, Four’s afraid the fall might be enough to break your bones. “Don’t do it! It’s too strong for just one person. Go get the others!”

“And leave you behind to this thing?” Four shouts and adjusts his grip on his blade. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes please.” The monster says in your voice. “It’s been so long since I’ve had anybody to play with.”

Before his eyes, Four sees this monster shift downward and wobble in its illusion and soon his own face is staring back at him- eyes just as black as before.

“Show me what you can do.” It’s in his voice now with a sword that looks just like his.

The similarity of the situation is not lost on Four and he hates that it’s come to this.

Four growls and strikes at the alien. It parries without much trouble and grins.

There’s a rage bubbling under his skin as he attacks and blocks and tries his hardest to knock this monster back into the room. He ignores the slick floor. He ignores your cries for him to stop and run. He ignores the thought that you’d were alone when you fought a losing battle. He ignores how he wasn’t there to save you. He ignores how no one was there to save you. He ignores everything except how you’re hurt and how you’re stuck and how you’re crying.

Four can’t seem to get a hit in this beast. It matches him with every beat- every strike- every block and Four’s frustration builds as every second passes with neither side gaining ground.

Four backflips away from a particularly dangerous strike and raises his sword skyward- banking on the fact that this monster wouldn’t have been able to copy the magic within his blade without it’s knowledge and attacks with more energy than before.

Blue, Green and Red attack the monster without mercy, covering where one fails with practiced efficiency.

Vio dances around the battle and begins looking for a way to get you down.

You’ve stopped struggling for a while once fight started and he’s worried that you may have lost too much blood.

Vio takes one look around and finds a gear which connects to the rope. He dashes over to it and begins to painstakingly push and pull to get the system in place to put you on the ground once more.

He looks over to where his brothers are and find that they’ve cornered the beast without any way of it breaking out of their square. He sees it panic- clearly not anticipating their split- nor is it able to replicate it and can see how it’s losing the fight.

Your feet touch the ground and you don’t even have the strength to hold yourself up anymore.

Your head hangs low and your completely limp as he continues to lower you.

Vio gulps and keep lowering the rope until your head has touched the ground as gently as he can manage.

“NOW DIE YOU TWO FACED, SHAPE SHIFTING, PUDDLE OF-” Blue screams from the other side of the room, followed by Green and Red as they finish off whatever vile creature it was.

Vio takes out his knife and begins to cut as many of the ropes as he can to release you. As he’s doing this, he’s calling your name, trying to not give in to impulse and shake you to get a response but the lack of one concerns him greatly.

Red appears by his side not a moment later and begins to pour what looks like a healing potion over you.

Green jumps over you three and spins on his heel on your other side, taking out their last fairy and setting it free over you. 

With the potion and the fairy working on healing what they can, Blue comes up behind all of them and growls. “I can’t believe this.”

“Blue-”

“NO! It’s not-!”

“Four...” You groan and reach your hand out. Green is quick to take it and pull it close to his chest. 

He looks at the others for a moment before swallowing. “I’m here.”

“Link...” You call and take a deep breath. All the colors can hear the amount of effort it take to inhale and how it barely fills your lungs.

“We should merge.” Vio whispers and reaches behind him for his sword.

Green nods and holds it up, waiting for the others to join. Red follows quick without a fuss and Blue joins after a tense moment of studying you. Four is left where Green was placed, sword raised and holding your hand.

His mind is loose and memories from the last fifteen minutes flood through his brain as he tries to stitch it back together.

“Link.” You call again and he leans down placing a chaste kiss on your hand. 

Thinking is very hard right now but he can get enough movement synched up to complete some sort of action to tell you that he’s here.

“You’re ok.” You mumble and grip him ever so slightly. The potion seems to be doing it’s job and the fairy continues to hover over you as it tends to your wounds.

“You’re ok.” Four finds himself saying. “You’re going to ok. Just hang a bit, ok?”

Four realizes a little belatedly that he has no other items to give you that would help. That was his last fairy and there’s no potions left either. Not to mention that it’s still just the two of you and he doesn’t like the idea of leaving you to go get help. 

“I am... So tired.” You say and take another breath.

“No. Don’t sleep.” Four whimpers. “Don’t sleep. You won’t wake up.”

“Four... I can’t even open my eyes.” You sigh. “You’ll watch over me, right? And we can wait for the others?”

“Don’t sleep.” He stresses, mind clearing as the panic seeps in. “Talk to me. Say something. How did you even meet that monster? What was it?”

“I don’t know...” Your voice trails away.

Four says your name, tears pooling in his eyes. “You can’t do this to me. I have nothing left to give you. You can’t die here.”

You don’t reply.

Four says your name again with more urgency, tugging your hand and beating it against his chest. “Come on. Say something, anything- please I can’t do anything else!”

You sigh and Four doesn’t see your chest rise again.

“No.” He cries and folds on your chest, pushing the fairy away even as it’s working. “No. You can’t leave me. You can’t leave like this. I never got to tell you. I love you. I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I should have been faster. I should have tried to find you faster or find anyone. I’m sorry you were alone.”

“Four I’m not dead.” You mumble.

Four shoot up and cradles your face with his free hand, his grip tightening on your own exponentially. For a moment he feels like slapping you for the scare but he’s too relieved to go through with it. “How dare you-”

“I had to gather my strength.” You explain. “I’m really close to sleeping but I think that fairy is keeping me awake.”

He lets a long breath go and folds over you again, placing his head over your heart. Your heart beat is strong and sturdy and Four could cry from the amount of relief that follows. “I thought I lost you there.”

“Did you mean it?” You mumble and weakly put your other hand in his hair. “Did you mean what you said?”

“What?”

“You said you love me.”

“I do.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I’m sorry.”

Four stops the incredulous laugh from overcoming his chest but he can’t stop the few tears that leave his eyes. “Are you asking me why I love you? Are you asking me to sing your praises? Because I will. I absolutely will. Don’t doubt me on this.”

“No, I believe you.” You smile and hum in contentment. “I love you too if that means anything.”

“It means everything.” Four chokes on his own breath and holds you close.

“Yay.” You place a kiss on his hair line and nuzzle him where you can. Your strength is slowly returning to you as the potion takes full effect and the fairy finally leaves you alone.

“Link?”

“Yes?

“Thank you. For saving me.”

“Thank you for not dying.” He grins.

“I have to live to give you all my love now. I don’t have the time to die.”

Time

Time was breathing hard as he lifts his shield to block an upcoming shot.

Metal clangs against metal. The brute force knocking him back enough that he has to dig his heels into the stone or else he’ll fall over. 

He grunts and pushes the beast away. He readjusts his sword in his hand and hunker downs further. 

The lizafos in front of him screeches in anger at the lack of damage done to him. Time nearly growls back at the monster in reply.

“Fowl beast.” Time spits instead. “This is where you fall.”

Time raises his arm to strike the creature until he hears you yell in anger.

You’re closer to him than he thought and the lizard sees the subtle eye shift on Time’s face. The lizard sees the opportunity and falls onto its four legs, dashing in your direction. 

Tim’s heart freezes and in a moment of desperation, he throws his sword in the direction of the monster. 

He can see everything slow down for this exact moment.

You strike your own monster down and turn around just in time to see the lizard rise up and unhinge its jaws. Time can see your eyes widen in fear and both of you make the calculation that you’re not going be able to block that attack in time. He sees his sword make contact with the monster right as the top row of teeth latch onto your tunic. The force from the blow sends the monsters careening away from you, the hooked teeth tearing at the fabric of your clothes. Ribbons of red fly from you and Time sprints in your direction.

“Time!” You shout and audibly gulp. He can see how shaken you are from that close call and you’re quick to place your back to his with your weapon out in front of you. “Bloody hell, was that you? I thought I was gonna have to have Legend sew me back together for a hot second. Stars, how hard did you throw that?”

Harder than was probably needed, Time admits in his head, reaching for his giant’s knife as you speak.

“Hard enough. Now focus.” He says.

“Right, right.” You twirl your blade in your hand, readjusting your grip and stance.

Time chances a glance behind him to look over to you. Your forearm is beginning to bleed profusely but your grip is still strong. You’re absolutely covered in dust and dirt alike from head to toe and appear to be sporting some blooming bruises under your chin and above one of your eyes.

Time can feel the frustration build up inside of him as he eyes the enemies down. He doesn’t doubt that he’s advertising his own injuries as he stands tall. He’s also doesn’t know where the rest of the boys are or if they’re handle it better that you both seem to be doing but he’s too focused on this fight in front of him to spend too much time on the thought.

The earlier lizalfos gets up again with Time’s original sword impaled right through it. The tip of the blade is poking out of the armor and it’s disconcerting how easily its still able to move around despite the major damage it should be doing to all its internal organs. From what little he can see, he can see black blood dribble down from his weapon onto the ground in front of him.

It’s infected.

Now he’s really glad he’s joined your side.

“Aces, how many are left?” He hears you ask over your heavy panting. He doesn’t think he’s the one you’re asking but he answers regardless.

“There can’t be that much left.” Time keeps his eye on the lizard, stepping ever so slightly to the side to keep the enemy’s eyes on him instead of you. He’s prepared to use his body as a shield if it meant your safety.

“Time.” You say and he can actually feel you lean against him. “I’m so tired.”

That’s probably the worst thing you could have said to him.

“You have to keep fighting.” He urges. “We’re not done yet.”

Time’s beginning to feel the buds of sheer terror for your well being.

“I know.” You sigh.

The lizard roars in his direction and charges toward you head on.

Time readies himself and times his swing. 

He knocks the lizard away again, cutting deeply into its side and nearly cutting off its arm in the process.

Time can feel you collide against him when another beast crashes into you and spins as fast as he can when you actually fall to the ground. He knocks the lower bokoblin away and reaches down to help you to your feet.

He grabs your shoulder and retracts his hand like he’s been burned.

His hand comes back covered in blood. All of the back of your neck is soaked and your hair is sticking in clumps because of it.

You have a deep head injury and he didn’t even know it.

The others are nowhere near you and there’s still an infected beast nearby with more monsters coming in behind you two.

Time thinks for a minute that this might actually it for him.

You won’t last much longer and Time can’t protect you with this many monsters flooding the area, even less so when there’s an infected one still standing.

You growl and try to hold yourself higher, to keep fighting, to keep going and defend.

He’s emboldened by your strive to go until the end and he focuses on the infected beast.

Time says with your name in the moment of pause, where both sides catch their breath.

“Yeah?” You reply breathlessly. 

“I need you to know something. It’s incredibly important that you know this.” Time grips his sword tight and swallows harshly.

“Now?”

“It’s now or never.”

“Time, you’re scaring me.”

“I love you.” He blurts out as confidently as he thinks he can manage. “I love you so much. On the chance that you make it out of here-” Because you will make it out of here, so help him- if the gods will grant him this one thing- “-I need you to know this. You need to know that I am completely in love with you.”

“Now?! You’re telling me this now?” You shout but he doesn’t turn around to look at you. The lizard is watching him, waiting for him to make a move. You call him again. “Link?”

You sound so quiet and weak. Time doubts that you’ll both actually get out of here.

“Link don’t do this to me. Not now. Not like this.” You sound on the verge of tears.

“Believe me, this not how I wanted this.” He admits and blinks away his own tears at the thought of it.

“Would you have ever told me if it didn’t come to this?” You ask and he goes to answer but the lizard get impatient and strikes first.

Time meets it halfway and blocks its attack. He’s quick to push it off and he belatedly hears you hop into your own fight once more. It’s already sounding difficult.

“Link!” He hears you cry and he nearly breaks down into sobs at how desperate you sound. “Time!”

He can’t go to you.

He can’t disengage.

“Link please!”

“I’m sorry.” He mummers. He knows you can’t hear him but he can’t risk the infected getting close to you.

“OH THANK GOD!” You shout and there’s the sounds of the boys.

Backup has arrived.

The split second in his distraction was what the lizard was waiting for. It strikes Time in his shoulder and he can’t stop the cry of agony that rips through him. It’s enough force that it knocks him onto the ground and to his knees. He picks up his sword and swing upwards slicing the beast through its armor and clicking against his other sword.

Wolfie comes up from the side and is quick to sink his teeth into the gizzard of the lizard, ripping and riding the beast down as it falls over. Time ditches his giant’s knife and jumps onto the beast next to the wolf. He reaches over despite his wound and grips the hilt of the impaled sword. 

In one swift movement he pulls it out and rams it through the head. He keeps stabbing until it is no longer moving. He sees one of the others come next to him and also begin stabbing the monster to hell and back.

He stops after what feels like an eternity and he’s struggling to breath. He wipes at his brow, nods to Wolfie and Sky, now that he sees him and spins on his heel to turn the rest of the group.

Hyrule, Legend and Wild are all crowding around you, each with their own manner of trying to heal your numerous injuries. Time feels relief flood his system and he falls to his knees, not caring if he stains his armor with the black blood that’s pooled beneath him.

He pauses to take his breath and he closes his eyes as the calm descends on the atmosphere.

“Time.” He hears you fight the others after a moment. “Where’s Time? I need to see Time. Where is he?”

“You’re covered in blood. You’re head isn’t even close to being fully healed.” Hyrule scolds.

“I have to yell at Time.” You speak.

“Don’t stand!”

“Where is he?”

“Sit down! We’re almost done!”

“I have to see him!” You cry and Time bites his lip at the desperation in your voice.

“I’m here.” He calls out. “Take care of yourself first. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No.” You reply and somehow make your way closer.

Time forces his eyes open and sits straighter when he sees you wobble your way over determinedly. You fight off anyone who tries to grab you or guide you to him, making your way to him by your own power.

He looks up at you, speechless and so full of hope and concern.

You fall onto your knees next to him and wrap your arms around his neck.

Time hisses slightly and pulls your arm away from his wound. You whine at the notion and readjust yourself to lay against his chest instead, hands by his collar bone instead and your head on his good shoulder. Time instinctually wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight, the weight of the fight lifted from his shoulders and what could have been from the front of his mind.

“Did we miss something?” Wind whispers from the back.

“Let them have this.” Warrior replies.

Relief flutters over his shoulder and the aches around his body. Time glances upwards for a moment to see Wild unleash a fairy and Hyrule on his knees next to the two of you.

You relax even more against him and sigh, stretching your head upwards. Your breath tickles the shell of his ear and Time has to suppress the shudder of pleasure that follows.

“I love you too Link.” You whisper and Time curls over you ever so slightly at your admission. “That was the worst timing in history. Never scare me like that again.”

He nods and you smile against his neck.

Feeling warm and giddy, Time finds himself smiling back and leans his head against yours.

You’re ok.

You’re both ok.

Part 2

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

~

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours. 

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sugar, Sugar 15

[FIFTEEN/END]

MASTERLIST

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, violence, mean sugary Steve

This is a dark! sugar daddy! Steve fic. Obvious AU so please keep that in mind. :) That being said, it will be an explicit fic (18+) with noncon. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

(This chapter: violence, threats, fear  :O)

Series Summary: The reader is struggling in the big city but find opportunity before her. Will she take it?

This Chapter: The wedding day approaches but not everything goes to plan.

Author Notes: So this is another series wrapped up after a grueling two years, haha. Sorry y’all.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

🍭 🍭 🍭

The floor length mirror was trimmed with twisted gold. You stared at your reflection as your shaky hands pressed against the front of the ivory dress. The cut hid the small bump but you could not forget it. Ever since you confessed, it all happened so fast; the wedding was pushed up, the dress tailored and expedited, and invitations sent out in a rush.

It all felt surreal. The day had come but you just couldn’t accept it. How could you go through those doors and smile through it all?

You closed your eyes and let your breath out. They would knock when it was your time. Your father would be waiting to walk you down the aisle. The guests waited eagerly for the most talked about ceremony in the city. And you still felt like just a footnote in your own wedding.

You moved away from the mirror and sat unsteadily, gripping the arms of the cushioned chair, careful not to catch your veil under you. That night you told him, that was the final straw. But you didn’t forget what Sasha said. You took a picture of the broken door and wrote down the entire scene. You sent it to yourself in an email as proof.

That wasn’t the last time. You recorded Steve one day when he came in as you were texting your sister about the new date. You hadn’t answered his last message about your first appointment with the doctor. He was livid and you sat and listened to him rant as the red dots pulsed. You wrote down every instance, every time he made you appease him, every terrifying word.

Then there were the police reports. Nothing more than words in a filing cabinet but the night he choked you was just the beginning. He threatened to break your finger when you took your ring off because your hands were swelling. Then he broke your laptop when you didn’t pay him enough attention. 

As the wedding loomed closer, he only seemed to get worse. He was clingy, always touching you, marveling over your stomach. He checked in almost every hour on the hour when he was working, and you weren’t stupid enough not to notice that the building was being watched.

It was like you were living two lives and yet you were entirely trapped with him. What good could the emails do? Or the reports when the police wouldn’t act on them? You were going to marry this man and that would be the end of it; of you, of your life.

Knuckles tapped on the door and you stood. You crossed the room and inched it open the door. You flinched as you were met by an unexpected and uninvited guest.

“Sasha?” you gasped.

“You’re marrying him then?” he held the handle but you didn’t try to close the door, “the account gone, I heard nothing from you.”

“I… I’m scared,” you admitted, “when he found out, I thought he was going to--” you shook your head. He wouldn’t actually kill you.

“You know it’s not too late,” Sasha urged.

“You can’t be here, it he finds out, he’ll--”

“I’ll defend myself,” Sasha snarled uncharacteristically, “I’ll give him what he deserves.’

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt. You need to go,” you begged as you glanced past him furtively.

“I will. Come with me,” he said, “just go. Everyone’s distracted, they won’t know--”

“I can’t just leave. You don’t understand--”

“No, you don’t understand,” he argued, “if you marry him, it all gets so much more complicated. I told you that day at the café. It will be harder to fight after the vows, but right now, you can still get out.”

“And go where?”

He swallowed and looked down the hall. You could hear the distant murmur of the crowd.

“Did you do any of it? Keep a journal? Something?” he asked.

“I tried. I went to the police but nothing,” you sniffed and gripped the door tight.

“Nothing yet but that’s a start,” he chewed the inside of his lip.

“Why are you here? Why is this so important to you?”

“Because I can do something,” he hissed, “because I can’t live with it if I don’t. So come on. Come with me, I got a bigger place. It’ll have to do for now and then we’ll work on getting you standing, getting the baby somewhere to grow--”

“Am I trading him for you?”

“I’m your friend,” he said evenly, “that will never change. All I want is you safe. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the hall. You can lock me out and I’ll sleep against the door. But I came down here knowing I wouldn’t leave without you.”

“It’s a sweet fantasy but--”

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand and pushed the door open, “please, don’t go with him. It doesn’t end well. You don’t get out. It doesn’t get better.”

“I have nothing,” you quavered.

“You have me,” he said, “please don’t make me walk out of here alone.”

“I….” you uttered as your heart squeezed. “He’ll come after you.”

“Good, I want him to,” he clung to you, “please?”

You inhaled and heard the voices. Your father and your sister. You had no time to think but you knew it was your only chance.

“Let’s go,” you lifted your skirt and pulled the door shut behind you as you stepped out, “now.”

He held onto your hand as you rushed away from the voices and skirted around the corner. Sasha urged you on down the back stairs and through the maze like halls of the extravagant church. You nearly tumbled down the stairs and he caught you as you came along the narrow passage beside the main room, the guests and groom just on the other side of the wall.

You came out into the sunlight and Sasha lifted the train of your skirts as he directed you over the grass. our heels sank into the dirt as you rushed over and the organ began to play Here Comes the Bride. As he helped stuff the swathes of fabric in behind you in his modest car, the music stopped suddenly.

He closed the door as you were squished in the back seat amid your layered skirts and he got in the front. The engine turned and he nearly side swept another car as he pulled out without looking. You peeked back behind you but saw no one coming down the large steps of the church.

He turned the corner and sidled in behind a yellow cab. He looked at you in the mirror and nodded. You bit your lips nervously as reality sank in. Your chest hammered and your entire body buzzed with adrenaline. You knew it was only the beginning.

🍭

The day passed in a daze. You sat in your wedding dress waiting for all hell to break loose. Sasha sat with a beer, silently, and tapped his foot endlessly. When the silence was too much, he turned on the television but neither of you paid any attention to the old sitcom.

When the trance of disbelief dissipated, he showed you around his spacious loft. He was being paid well by Stark but you worried how long he would stay on the payroll after what he’d done. Steve wasn’t stupid and there were more photographers at the church then you’d seen collectively over the last year and a half.

“This is the second bedroom,” he showed you into a room with gleaming windows. There was a bed, a dresser, curtains, a cozy rug, all carefully selected, “I thought you’d be here sooner.”

Your eyes lingered on the box leaned against the far wall. A crib.

“Didn’t know how long…” his voice trailed off as he followed your eye line, “I’m not trying to be him. You can go anytime but I… you have a place here.”

Your eyes welled and you blotted them with your knuckles, the rough lace of your gloves scratching your cheeks, “you did all this for me?”

“I told you, I’d do anything,” he said.

“But… Sasha, I don’t--”

“I don’t expect anything from you. High school was a long time ago but you made it bearable for the biggest dweeb in the class.” He sighed and paced a circle around the room, “you know, I had the biggest crush on you. That doesn’t mean anything now, it doesn’t mean I want you to fall into my arms, but it means I want to help you. It’s the right thing to do, somehow I made a career of doing the right thing so what’s one more?”

You felt your chest sink and you covered your cheeks with your hands, “Sasha?”

“Please,” he cringed, “I was a teen boy, I think I had a thing for Oprah once. Really, it’s just… we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“I can’t…” you sniffled and dropped your hands, “I don’t deserve any of this.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Sasha intoned, “and you don’t deserve to live like that. I know this isn’t much but I know you. You’ll find your way, you just got a little lost.”

“I…” you shook your head speechless.

“We’ll figure everything else out tomorrow. You can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and then we can see about retrieving your things from Steve,” he neared the door and stopped beside you, “or we can say fuck it and you can start all over.”

You turned and slung your arms around him. You buried your face against his shoulder as tears spilled out onto his jacket.

“How did you know?” you sobbed.

“That day at the shower,” he rubbed your back gently, “you know, lawyers learn how to read people and you never were very good at subtlety.”

“No,” you chuckled through your tears, “No, it’s why I was great as a bard.”

“Mmm,” he grumbled, “if that’s how you remember it.”

🍭

It felt like Sasha was gone forever but when you checked the clock, it had only been twenty minutes. 

You sat on the couch with your feet under you as you watched the news and rocked nervously. All anyone was talking about was Steve Rogers’ runaway bride. Your face was everywhere and the statement issued by Steve made it all the worse.

He painted you as a gold-digger, as an adulterer, as a swindler. He was the heartbroken fiancé and you were the wrongdoer. You knew it would go this way but expectation never softened reality.

You flinched as the lock turned and Sasha entered with a bag in hand. He came to the couch and set it down beside you.

“I don’t know about my taste in women's clothes but those should do,” he said as he checked his watch, “we should go soon.”

“Yeah,” you stood and opened the bag to reveal the lavender blouse and dark jeans, “you really didn’t have to--”

“You kidding, he’s gonna be surrounded by cameras. You can’t win his game if you don’t play it. I’ve dealt with his type before, they’re the ones who need lawyers on standby,” he sneered, “did you eat?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you swiped up the bag and headed for the hallway, “it was good.”

“No problem,” he shrugged as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv, “and ignore all that nonsense.”

You got dressed and emerged as your anxiety grew to impatience. You left the apartment in brittle silence and the car ride fed the uneasy bubbling of your stomach. .

As you came up to Steve’s building, you sat for a moment before you got out. Sasha followed and shoulder away the cameras as you neared the front door

The elevator moved slowly and fidgeted uncontrollably as it dinged on Steve’s floor. You swallowed and braced yourself to face Steve. Sasha kept a few feet back as you walked down the hall and stopped at the door. You knocked as you found it locked.

It was a while before it opened but when it did, you were startled as Steve grabbed the front of your blouse and wrenched you inside. He spun you but quickly released you as he was knocked off balance and sent sprawling over the floor. Sasha stood above him with his hands in fists.

“Hey,” he pointed at Steve then looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded as Steve glared between the two of you and cautiously got to his feet, “so you brought your little boyfriend?”

“She’s here to get her stuff. We thought we’d avoid a police escort, as her lawyer I thought it prudent, but we can always make that phone call,” Sasha said sternly, “she is entitled to her possessions.”

“Her stuff? I paid for every single thing she has to her name. Hers? Mine.” Steve spat and reared on you again, only to be caught by Sasha as he inserted himself between you.

“You will not touch her again. Those things you bought for her were gifts. You have no legal rights to them once they are given. She will take her clothes, her phone, and any other necessities.”

“Pfft, she’s not taking anything. She’s not going anywhere,” Steve growled, “she not yours--”

“I am certain the photogs would appreciate a show,” Sasha pulled out his phone, “police? That can only be a domestic dispute.”

Steve squinted and his nose flared as he looked at you over Sasha’s shoulder, “fucking slut.” He crossed his arms and stepped aside, “get your shit, get out…” he hissed, “but I have my rights too. You will not keep me from my baby.”

“That will be settled in court,” Sasha replied coolly, “go on, get your things.”

He waved you past him as he kept you shield from Steve. He was of a height with Steve but not as broad. Even so, you felt safe behind him. You rushed down to the bedroom and quickly gathered up your toiletries and those clothes you didn’t absolutely hate. Your phone screen was shattered but you took it anyway.

As you emerged again, a bag slung on your shoulder, you slid the ring from your finger. 

“You can keep the rest,” you said as you placed the band on the small round table just inside the front room, “goodbye Steve.”

“Goodbye? Goodbye?” he spat, “this isn’t the end and you fucking know it.”

“Calm down,” Sasha warned.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Steve shoved him, “I should fucking smash your head in--”

“I’d like you to try,” Sasha stood his ground, “really. You think the court would let a violent man be around an infant?”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes. He backed down and shouldered by Sasha. “Get the fuck out.”

You left quickly. You had no desire to hang around. As you stepped onto the elevator, Sasha softly touched your elbow and you winced. The bag fell to your elbow and he quickly scooped it up and heaved it over his own shoulder.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said, “he was so angry. I--”

“I was stupid, we should’ve brought the police. Fuck the cameras,” he said, “from this point on, no contact with him whatsoever. Only through me and the court. No talking to reporters, no nothing.”

“Yeah, that won’t be hard,” you uttered as he led you out of the elevator. 

As you came outside, cameras flashed and voices called out. You collided with Sasha as he was blocked by a photographer shouting questions, “is it true you’re pregnant? Is it Steve’s?”

“My client will not be answering questions,” Sasha kept on and made a path for you, “go, she’s not answering any of your questions.”

He elbowed past more cameras and opened the car door for you. You fell inside and quickly huddled down in your seat. As he sat behind the wheel, he mumbled and pulled out into traffic. He gripped the wheel tightly and pushed himself back into the vinyl.

“That asshole,” he said, “he’s gonna want the paternity test. This isn’t gonna be pretty.”

“I can’t… he fucking told them. I mean, I’m not surprised but… god,” you grimaced.

“We’ll get the test done before he makes a formal request,” Sasha said, “it shows transparency and when we hand over those results, we’ll include those police reports too.”

“Police reports?” you blinked.

“Sorry, I… It’s a suggestion,” he said tersely, “but he’s going to make this a trial by media.”

“No, no, I want to,” you said firmly, “I want everyone to know the real Steve Rogers.”

🍭

‘I was just like many struggling in the city. I worked a low-paying job in data entry and lived in an apartment which was little more than a box. The dreams of the big city were passing me by as there was little opportunity to be found.

Then I met Steve Rogers. Like a dream or a Lifetime movie. I was in debt, I was desperate, and he offered me a safety net. I can own my part in the relationship; I was interested and I accepted his generosity. I was all too happy with the arrangement.

That was until I found out that it was all based on a lie. I didn’t know that he had access to my accounts even before I knew him, that he had used his connections to force me into that dire situation. And I could not know the real man behind the billionaire façade.

It was little things at first. Any woman loves to feel wanted but his possessiveness soon turned to control. He kept me isolated from my own family and did not permit me to do anything without his permission. His affection turned to obsession and when it was not reciprocated he forced it from me.

He took me on vacation and did not allow me to wear clothes. He chose what I wore, how I looked, and what I did. He coerced me into acts I was reluctant about, and when he was too rough, he did not listen to my pleas for him to stop.

When I tried to leave him, he followed me and dragged me back. He had me watched by PIs and surveilled all my communications. He used his financial power to control me and when that did not work, he used his physical power.

Steve Rogers abused me. He yelled in my face, he threatened my family, and he choked me.

Steve Rogers raped me. He expected me to bend to his will whenever he desired and when I refused, he held me down and did what he wanted.

Steve Rogers took my whole life and when I chose to leave, he set his eyes on the life inside of me. 

The only thing I want from him is freedom. I want to live safely with my child and I want that child to never experience the abuse of their father. I never want anyone to know that horror again which is why I have written this and released the police records. I am not asking for anything but peace for me and my unborn child.’

The statement was carefully edited by Sasha. You reread the font across the glossy pages of Vanity Fair, the article spliced with excerpts not only from the police reports, but your own emailed accounts of your relationship, and the whole thing began with an image of that broken bathroom door.

It was two months since you ran away from the altar but life was not a romcom. It was a disaster. Even with the article, you knew not all would believe you. You knew it would open you to doubt and vitriol. And you knew Steve would have a response.

You closed the magazine and groaned as you rubbed your hips. Freedom didn’t feel so… freeing. There was a long way to go; court dates, doctor’s appointment, and depositions. But it was a start.

You rested your hand on your stomach and pushed on the arm of the couch as you stood stiffly. When you were halfway up, you felt a hand on your elbow and Sasha helped you stand straight. You smiled guiltily. You’d grown a lot in the last few weeks and still had nearly four months to go.

“The reviews are good,” he said, “I know that is kinda grim but… people seem to believe you.”

“Seem to?” you echoed as you went to the kitchen and pulled out the container of sliced strawberries, “or they don’t?”

“Well,” he leaned on the counter as he watched you add too much cream to the berries and smiled, “Stark Industries has cut ties with Shield, Inc. and Tony has made a sizeable donation to several shelters across the city,” he cupped his chin coyly as he leaned on his elbow, “and will be covering legal costs for the support hearings seeing as I can’t legally represent you anymore.”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open before you could spray some cream onto your tongue, “when were you going to tell me this?”

“I’m telling you now,” he crossed his arms as he shifted them further over the island, “I thought I’d give the good news first.”

“And the bad?” you put down the can of cream as you neared the marble across from him.

“I have several requests for interviews and I think you should do at least one,” he said, “I know you hate reporters and all that but… with a little Rogers baby on board, it’s just another part of the process.”

“Oh, and what should I tell them,” you edged around the counter towards him, “that I moved? That I found someone better?” He turned to you, his lips curved as he leaned in and you turned your face up to peck his lips, “or maybe I should tell them I’m single? Keep the intrigue?”

“As long as you tell them I’m handsome, I don’t mind,” he purred as he placed his hand on your side.

“Oh, how could I leave that out?” you cooed and kissed him again, “patient, loving, kind… but what a geek?”

“A geek?” he smirked and framed your chin with his hands, “says the dungeon master.”

You giggled and ran your hands up his chest, “someone’s gotta raise this little bard well.”

“Oh, no, no, she’s not gonna be a bard. Maybe a cleric?”

“No way! That’s lame,” you chirped, “how about… a sorcerer? Ours is a bit lacking.”

“Excuse you,” he quipped, “what was your AC again? Maybe next session I’ll run out of healing spells.”

“See?” you taunted, “geek.”

You drew him to you until he was pressed to your belly and he swept you up in a kiss. You rocked with him as he turned you against the counter and slowly parted.

You squeezed his wrist as you went back around to your strawberries and cream. You took a spoon and scooped up a mouthful as you slid your phone towards you. Sasha stayed as he was, watching you scroll through the emails and piled up texts.

You stopped as one blared in all caps. There was no name, only ‘Private’. You opened the conversation and found a dozen bubbles; ‘THIS ISN’T OVER’, ‘HE CAN’T KEEP YOUR FROM ME’, ‘CUTE, YOU THINK PEOPLE BELIEVE YOUR SHIT.’ Another message blipped up, an image and you dropped your spoon as it opened.

You saw the picture of your sister and her son. You shook as you put your hand down on the counter and choked on the cream.

“What?” Sasha reached over and turned your phone to him, “Shit,” he sighed and blocked the number, “he’s just stacking the evidence against himself.”

“I--” you blinked as tears boiled behind your eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he screencapped the conversation, “this just makes the case even easier.”

“No, I will always be afraid of him,” you said as you touched your stomach, “it’s not just about me anymore.”

“And it’s not just you anymore,” he took your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb, “we’ve been through worse. If we can get through a cave full of orcs, we can defeat Steve Rogers.”

END (or is it?)

[justanobsessedfangirl]

The Sacrifice Part 1 - The Maze Runner Minho Imagine

Request from @elizabeth-brown hey when your requests will be open can you do 'the maze runner' one with minho. where one day when new greenie was coming up he had letter with him. on it there was written that if they sacrificed y/n they would let everyone out. so keepers decided to vote. most of them voted 'yes' so without any emotions Alby kick y/n into the maze. then minho realized his feelings. y/n survived the maze and WCKED took her. after one year she escaped WCKED and ran into the scorch. Minho missed her miserably. y/n searched the safe heaven. and when Group A searched safe heaven they saw y/n and she was so mad. you can end it however you want either she forgives them or not. and please tag me

Masterlist

Part 2

Warning: Some mature language

Author’s Note: Thanks for waiting! I changed up the request a little (I think?) but there will probably be a part 2 so I can do the stuff outside the Glade. Hope you like it! Also, I know it seems like my requests aren’t open because I take forever to post, but I swear they are. :)

Word Count: 4.6k

The Box came up every month like clockwork. Half an hour before its arrival, a blaring alarm would sound. Gladers would trickle in from the Gardens, the Med-jack Hut, the Homestead, and gather around the hole. Those who had requested items would push their way to the front. Others lingered around the edges, hoping for a glimpse of the new Greenie.

“Maybe it’ll be another girl,” they’d whisper.

“Maybe it’ll be another shank,” their friends would whisper back, and the boys would shove each other and laugh and make jokes until the Box slotted into place and the roof slid away, revealing the Glade’s next victim.

You were an unnatural fit to the routine. You’d disrupted it right from the beginning, with your arrival as the first female Glader. Now, months later, you still hadn’t formed many strong bonds. It was hard when you were rarely in the Glade during the day, spending most of your hours mapping the Maze. No one was directly cruel when you had a day off, but it was clear that this was a brotherhood, and you did not meet the requirements. You were an “other.” You were a girl. You were something to be looked at and talked about but you weren’t necessarily someone.

You didn’t feel like an outsider when you ran with Minho. He treated you like a person. Like a friend. So did Newt, although your time with him was limited to bonfires, where you drank Gally’s moonshine and talked.

Just the memories of those nights made you feel warm, even as you stood apart from the boys around the Box and prayed for another girl to appear. You stood on your tiptoes and tried to peer over the crowd. Through gaps and over heads, you caught a glimpse of a boy in the Box. He was younger than you, probably younger than most of the people in the Glade, with curly brown hair, round pink cheeks, and wide, fear-filled eyes. 

Alby jumped down into the Box. Laughter rose from the crowd as the young Greenie backpedaled so wildly that he tripped over his feet and slammed onto his butt. Next to you, a group of Gladers jeered. You frowned at them, watching their smiles slip into sneers. They looked away from you. Inside the Box, the Greenie cried, “Please don’t hurt me!” His already high, youthful voice was pitched even higher with terror.

You felt a stab in your chest. He sounded so young, so alone, so scared. Taking a step forward, you came to the edge of a thick knot of Gladers. They catcalled and hollered and cackled, slapping each other on the backs. One noticed you and quickly jerked away like you were contagious.

Cheeks burning, you stepped back again. You gave the crowd one last look, heard the Greenie blubber one last time, and headed for the Homestead, where there was no one to make you feel unwelcome or weak for feeling sympathy for the new Greenie.

Besides, you thought bitterly, they might make fun of him now, but he’ll still be one of them.

A few Gladers saw you go; most were focused on the Greenie, who Alby was trying to coax to his side of the Box, where someone had dropped a length of rope. 

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Alby said. Impatience wore thin on his voice. “Just come over here.”

The Greenie stayed curled in a ball in the middle of the Box.

Alby shook his head. Turning to the pair of boys above him, he lowered his voice and said, “Do you think Y/N could try to get him out?”

The Gladers looked at each other.

“Isn’t she running today?” one asked.

“I haven’t seen her all day,” the other added.

Alby frowned. “Fine,” he sighed, “we’ll do it the hard way.”

At that, the two Gladers joined Alby in the Box. The Greenie’s eyes bulged as they approached. He tried to scoot back. In seconds, the pair was on him, lifting him as easily as if he weighed nothing. They toted him to the rope.

The Greenie gasped. “Wait! Wait! I dropped it!”

Alby waved the boys on before they could stop. “I’ll get it.” While the Gladers hoisted the Greenie out, Alby walked to the center of the Box. Laying on the metal floor was a card of paper, pristinely white save for the 10 grimy fingerprints of the crying Greenie. Alby knelt, picked it up, flipped it over, and froze.

It seemed like an eternity before he stood again. Around him, the Gladers still talked and laughed. Around him, the Gladers still thought they were following their routine.

Holding the note in his hand, Alby commanded, “Gathering in the Homestead. Now.” After a beat of silence, he added, “If Y/N’s here, bring her.”

The Glade burst into a flurry of activity. Boys scrambled, yelling the news. Their Keepers chastised them and handed out work orders like candy. Feeling brave and uninhibited and a little frenzied, Gladers complained and groaned and manhandled each other and ran. The new Greenie was handed off to a Builder, then a Slicer, then rescued by a Gardener. A pack of Gladers took off for the Homestead.

You’d barely made it inside before your moment of alone time was shattered. The boys whooped and hollered and shouted as they sprinted toward you.

“Gathering!”

“You have to go!”

“Alby called for a Gathering!

Their voices came at you like bullets, one after another after another. Your questions fell on deaf ears. “Why a Gathering? Now? Did you say I have to go?”

They kept talking to each other, ignoring you even as they pushed you farther inside, pushed you toward the meeting room, pushed you like you couldn’t even walk by yourself. You shoved away from them and entered the room on your own two shaky feet. Only a few of the Gladers followed, taking their seats as Keepers.

With a sick sludge of anxiety swirling in your stomach, you looked around the room. You’d never been to a Gathering before, although you’d listened to Minho complain about how boring they were many times. The room was small, the only furniture a crudely made table surrounded by twelve seats, one for each Keeper plus Alby and Newt. There was no seat for you. You were not supposed to be here.

“Clint, what’s going on?”

The Keeper of the Med-jacks looked up at the sound of your voice. He’d been staring at the tabletop, tracing his finger along the wood grain. His hands were thin, his fingers long, and they held a delicate strength, accustomed to wrapping wounds and sewing stitches. “Alby called a Gathering,” Clint said.

“Yeah, I figured that part out. Why? And why am I here?” You tried to keep your emotions under control. Clint didn’t need to know you were a little annoyed, a little angry, a little worried. Clint and the growing mob of Keepers filing into the room didn’t need to know you were scared.

Clint looked to the head of the table. Two empty chairs sat waiting. “Alby didn’t explain much. I think it was something to do with the Greenie.”

“The Greenie?” you asked, just as someone gave you a harsh nudge to the side. You whipped around and found yourself staring up at Gally.

“Don’t block the doorway,” he snapped. Before you could reply, Gally was walking past you, settling into the seat closest to the head of the table.

Most of the chairs were filled now. Some Keepers looked at you, others talked with their neighbors, and a few, like Clint, seemed like they’d rather be anywhere else but here. You lingered by the door. After a couple of minutes, Alby and Newt entered together.

You knew something was wrong immediately. Alby’s face, stoic at the best of times, was downright grim, like he’d just witnessed a terrible crime against humanity. Newt wouldn’t even lift his eyes to yours. His skin had taken on a pallor, pale white tinged with sickly green.

“Alby-”

Alby interrupted you. “Where’s Minho?”

You weren’t sure if he was asking you or the Keepers, but you answered anyway. “He’s running. What’s going-”

Cursing under his breath, Alby strode to the head of the table. “Someone got the schedules mixed up,” he fumed. “They thought you were running today. Minho is supposed to be here.”

“Maybe we should wait-”

“This can’t wait, Newt. You know that.” Alby shot Newt’s suggestion down before it even had time to breathe. “Y/N, take Minho’s seat. And someone shut the door.”

You didn’t like the way Alby was barking out orders or the way Newt had slumped into his seat like an admonished puppy. The whole world was off-kilter, just slightly, but enough that you felt nauseous and hyper-aware. Clint was still picking at the table. Winston was sitting next to Gally, who was staring daggers at you, and Zart, who had his arms crossed and was sitting straight in his chair, looked disgusted at something Doug, the Keeper of the Sloppers, had just said. Frypan was the one to get up and close the door, giving you a reassuring smile as he walked. You slowly made your way around the table to the only empty chair. It was across from Gally, right next to the side that Alby and Newt sat behind. 

Newt flinched away from you as you sat. Alby eyed you, waiting, waiting, waiting, and, finally, with the door closed and you perched on Minho’s chair, ready to bolt, he said, “We’re holding a Gathering because of this.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “The new Greenie was holding it.”

Down the table, Winston smirked. “Is that why he was crying? Poor thing can’t read?”

You frowned. One of the Keepers, Billy, chuckled lightly.

Alby ignored them and continued, “It’s a note from the Creators.” A few murmurs arose; Alby didn’t speak until it was silent again. “It says,” he cleared his throat and, next to him, Newt looked as if he might puke. “It says, ‘The Glade is failing. Show you can follow instructions and you will be released.’” Alby paused.

Unlike before, the Keepers stayed quiet. You were on the edge of your seat, listening with bated breath, like all of the others. Maybe the instructions involved finding something in the Maze? You knew you could help with that, and maybe Alby knew it too, and that’s why he’d made you attend the Gathering. You could nearly taste the freedom on your lips. Under the table, your legs shook with excitement, energy, adrenaline -- everything that made you feel alive. What would life be like outside the Glade? 

“Tell them the instructions, Alby,” Newt whispered, voice strained.

Your hopeful heartbeat faltered.

Alby’s eyes flicked up from the paper, met yours, and shot back down.

Something like dread filled your chest.

“‘Show you can follow instructions and you will be released,’” Alby repeated. He drew a deep breath before continuing. “Sacrifice Y/N to the Maze. Tonight.’”

One second passed. Inside that second, there was an eternity, an infinity, a lifetime. Your lifetime. Every limb of your body became paralyzed. You felt liquid. You felt insubstantial and invisible, only you were the farthest thing from invisible, because every single person in the room, all ten Keepers and Alby and Newt, even Newt, who wouldn’t meet your eyes before because he’d already condemned you to death, was staring.

And then the room roared.

“They’re lying!”

“That’s insane!”

“They can’t ask us to do that!”

“We can’t trust them!”

“I’m not doing that!”

“What if it’s true?”

The last voice, soft, barely audible, silenced everyone.

You stared at Gally, jaw dropped. “What?” You could barely speak above a whisper. Your vocal cords were constricting, choking you. Every breath felt like your last.

Gally’s gaze stayed on the letter in Alby’s hands. His eyes were glazed and his whole demeanor, normally stubborn and stand-offish, had shifted into quiet contemplation. “What if it’s true?” he murmured. “What if this is our way out? What if this is what we’ve been waiting for?”

The other Keepers began to speak. Instead of ardent protestations, you heard questions. So many questions and no definitive answers, except for Gally’s. The room spun around you, swirling, swirling, swirling. Your skin was flushed and cold and sweating and freezing all at the same time.

“He might be right,” you heard.

In an instant, you shot to your feet. The chair that Minho should have been sitting in clattered to the floor, silencing the Keepers. “Guys, this-this is insane,” you pleaded. Every face was a blur, a smear, no distinguishable people anywhere. You didn’t know a single boy in this room. “The Creators have never asked us to do something like this. They locked us in here! They-they...they put monsters in the Maze to kill us!”

“Maybe not to kill us.” Billy, the Keeper of the Baggers, was a boy of few words. He never seemed to have much to say, maybe because he’d gotten used to such solitary work. Most of the time, the only Gladers he was around were dead. “Maybe the monsters are there to kill you.”

Panicked tears burned in the corners of your eyes. Gally was nodding. So was Winston. Too many of them were nodding or looking down, pretending they didn’t have a say, hope gleaming in their eyes and betraying their thoughts.

You turned to your leaders. “Alby, this can’t--we can’t--”

“We’re going to vote on it.”

You switched tactics. “Newt. Newt, please, please look at me. This is crazy. We can get out without doing this, we can--I’ll run more and we’ll...we’ll figure something out, just, please, don’t--please just look at me.”

Newt slowly lifted his head. In the background, the Keepers talked, rising from their seats, growing more animated, more determined. Unshed tears glimmered in Newt’s eyes. “Y/N,” he said, and in your name you heard an apology. “This could be our only chance.”

“It can’t be.” You moved forward, desperate. “It can’t be our only chance, we’ll figure something out, I know we can, we just need to--” You were babbling and stepping closer and your hands reached out to grab his arms, to shake him, to knock some sense into all of them, and then Alby’s low, commanding voice rang out, ordering everyone to sit, and you were left standing, crying, terrified, and so, so, so alone.

“If anyone wants to see the note, there.” Alby dropped it onto the table. Across from you, Gally picked it up, scanned it, and passed it to the boy next to him, Winston. From Winston to Billy to Clint to Frypan to Ozzy to Doug to Zart to Leon. To you. With trembling hands, you held the note, saw the words, tried to read them and make sense of them, only nothing made sense at all.

Sacrifice Y/N to the Maze. Sacrifice Y/N. Sacrifice sacrifice sacrifice.

The more you repeated it in your head, the less real it sounded. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be happening.

“We have to make a decision,” Alby said.

Lungs squeezing painfully, you tried to speak. No words came out.

“I think it’s obvious,” Gally said. “Everything changed as soon as she got here. Now the Creators want us to do something, so we should do it.” He sounded more certain the more he spoke, his voice and words building to a persuasive, powerful crescendo.

“We could get out,” Winston added eagerly.

Clint pushed back his chair and slowly rose to his feet. He looked uncomfortable being the center of attention. One of his hands stayed on the table, scrambling for support. “I think it’s important,” he said, “that we think this through and give it the weight it deserves. This is someone’s life we’re talking about.”

It’s my life, you wanted to scream. I’ve tried to be a part of your group! I’m a Glader!

Clint continued. “But we also have to think about everyone else, too. I’m sorry, Y/N, I really am. But your sacrifice could mean that everyone else here can live.” Clint sunk back into his seat. “My vote is to obey the Creators.”

“Clint--” You were drowned out by Gally and Winston and Billy agreeing, formally voting to kill you. Gally nodded down at Ozzy, the Keeper of the Bricknicks, and then Ozzy said, “I vote to obey the Creators too.”

Leon agreed next. Leon, the Keeper of the Maps, who you’d spoken to nearly every day since becoming a Runner. Leon, who you’d sometimes traded jokes with and complimented for his drawing skills. Leon, who, after voting, said, “I’ve spent all of my time in the Glade trying to get out,” like it was an explanation you wanted to hear. Like it would mean it was okay for them to throw your life away. He wouldn’t look at you, still standing, half-slumped against the table as your legs wobbled with each vote that damned you to being ripped apart by Grievers.

“Guys, please,” you said, or you thought you said, but maybe they didn’t hear because now Frypan was standing up.

“I haven’t seen a Griever up close, I don’t know what it’s like in the Maze, and I don’t know what it’s like to patch up people who have done all of that. I know that Y/N’s a Glader. That’s all I need. I vote no.” Frypan nodded at you and sat back down, his normally easy-going face creased in deep thought.

One voice. One against six. But one was all you needed; one gave you a shot of strength, enough for you to straighten up, to open your mouth, to instead hear Doug say, “I haven’t done any of that either but I know that I don’t want to spend another goddamn minute in this Glade. I vote yes.”

The room spun. You looked down at your hands, found them in your lap, realized you were sitting but couldn’t remember ever doing so. Everything was slipping through your fingers so fast, too fast, impossibly fast.

Seven.

“My vote doesn’t matter much now,” Zart began, his words ponderous and slow. “But I vote no.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, as if daring anyone to question him.

Gally turned his attention to Alby and Newt instead. “So we’re doing it?”

Alby frowned. Newt buried his face in his hands. You thought you might pass out.

“Seven is a majority. It doesn’t matter our votes,” Alby said. “Or Minho’s.”

“Or mine.” The table turned to you. “I don’t get a say in any of this? It’s my life.” You knew your voice was too high-pitched, too warbled, too girlish to be taken seriously. You swallowed and it came out even more panicked. “You can’t just kill me with a one-vote difference, you can’t just--”

“It wouldn’t be a one-vote difference. I vote to obey the Creators.” Alby stared unwaveringly at you. “Newt agreed before the Gathering. That makes it nine to four, assuming Minho would vote not to obey.”

“Why?” It came out strangled and mangled and desperate.

“For the Glade,” Alby responded.

Newt suddenly looked up, shaking his head. “No, no, I take my vote back. I vote no. We can’t do this, Alby.”

“Eight to five. The majority says to obey. It happens tonight.”

“Alby--” “Alby, please,” You and Newt protested together, but Alby’s voice boomed over both of yours. “Gathering over. Gally, Winston, take Y/N to the Pit until tonight.”

Newt stood up too fast and stumbled, nearly crashing into the table. “We can’t put her in the Pit!”

The sound of arguing and chairs being pushed back washed over you, filling your ears with white noise. Chills raced up and down your spine, sending a clamminess to your hands and feet. You were going to die. You were going to be torn apart by Grievers, the very monsters you’d spent so much time running away from. It was almost ironic, really, and you almost laughed until you realized it was a sob, until you realized there were tears streaming down your face and there were two sets of hands grabbing you by the arms and hoisting you up and leading you out of the room and down the hall, practically dragging you for all of the good your feet did. And then you were in the doorway of a dark, windowless room, and Newt was standing in front of you. He enveloped you in a hug, spewing apologies about the vote and the room and your fate. All too soon, he pulled away. You saw his brown eyes and tear-streaked face. You saw the door close. You saw darkness.

You sagged to the floor and cried.

Hours passed. The room had no windows for you to watch the sun move across the sky, silently counting down to the end of your life. You had tried a few times to shove the door open,  but you only succeeded in bursting out between two strong Gladers. After the first time, they were ready for any attempt of yours to sprint past. Sometimes their voices would seep through the cracks in the wood. Apologies and excuses and pleas for you to please, just please, do this one thing for the Glade and help them all survive.

Part of you thought they were right. What if your sole purpose was to be a sacrifice? But then you thought of Minho and running and laughing and the few flickering memories you had from before the Glade, of an older couple smiling at you or the warm feeling of being loved, and you remembered how it felt to be alive. And you knew that it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, for anyone but you to get to decide your death.

Your time alone helped you think. It helped you settle yourself, calm your mind, and dry your tears. But as soon as the door opened and you saw the sunlight fading from the hallway, all of your carefully planned entreaties faded from your lips. Your throat went dry with impending doom.

“It’s time. Alby’s waiting by the Maze,” one of the Gladers said. You didn’t even know who he was. Why hadn’t you gotten closer to him? To all of them? Maybe if you hadn’t been so solitary, maybe you could have...or they could have...or maybe...

“What’s your name?” you heard yourself ask as the guards flanked you down the hall.

He gave you a look of confusion. “Rob.”

“Rob,” you repeated. Rob led the way outside. You glanced over your shoulder at the other Glader. “What about you?”

“I’m David,” the one behind you answered. He hastened to walk beside you. David had stubby legs, two of his steps matching one of yours. You picked up your pace. Rob matched it easily; David lagged.

Over the Glade, the sun was nearly below the horizon. Gladers milled about but kept their distance from you, trying not to stare at the doomed prisoner. It was like you were already dead. And no one cared.

The wall loomed high above you, growing as your entourage got closer and closer. Huddled near one of the entrances was a group of Gladers. When you neared a hundred feet away from them, you slowed. David followed suit immediately. Rob’s lengthy strides shortened.

“David, Rob,” you addressed them by name, not looking at either even as they faced you. “Thanks for walking with me.” Then you bolted for the Maze.

David had no chance of catching up to you, Rob was just stunned enough to give you the head start you needed, and the group of Gladers only shouted as you closed the distance to the door.

My choice, the pounding of your feet seemed to shout. My choice. My life. You may have been minutes away from death, but you had never felt so alive. Adrenaline flooded your body. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. All of the cold fear had been replaced by the warmth of energy. One last choice, you thought. The open door called to you. 20 feet. 5 feet. You’d just crossed the entrance when one voice made itself known above the crowd.

“Y/N!”

Every muscle tensed, you spun around to see Minho sprinting after you, the group of Gladers following, none as fast as your partner. He crashed into you with the tightest hug of your life. Your body reacted before your mind knew how; you hugged him back.

“I couldn’t let you go without seeing you,” Minho blurted, his lips an inch from your ear. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t…” he trailed off. Loosening his hold, he pulled back enough to see your face. He stared at you like he wanted to memorize you. “I’m going with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am, Y/N, I can’t let you do this yourself. With two of us we could--”

“Die. We’d both die.” You pulled him close again, burying your head back in the crook of his neck, hating the fear in his eyes. You’d wanted your last memory of him to be a smile, not this.

He spoke more softly now. “If we had supplies, I bet we could do it. I’ll raid the kitchen, the Med-jack Hut, bring us weapons. We could find the way out. You don’t have to die. You can’t die.”

You wanted him to stop talking, because you couldn’t extinguish the little flame of hope blooming in your chest if he kept feeding it. “Minho-”

Minho cut you off. “You can do this, Y/N. You’re fast, faster than me, and a hell of a lot smarter than all of these shanks combined. Survive the night. Survive the night and I can bring you supplies tomorrow.” His voice had an edge to it, a fierce desperation you’d never heard from Minho. Inside his encouragement, he was pleading with you. “Fuck, Y/N, please survive the night. Meet me at the intersection past the west door when the sun rises. I fell there the first time we ran together, remember? I said it was because you ran funny and it made me lose concentration but it was actually because you looked so beautiful in the sunrise that I couldn’t think.” He took a deep breath. Your heart beat too quickly, running on hope and support and maybe a little bit of love. When Minho spoke again, his voice was solemn, “I’ll find you, I swear to God. We’ll figure it out together. We’ll get out together.”

“I’ll survive.” You were lying. “I’ll try.” Was that another lie? Everything was moving too quickly.

Alby’s voice stopped you from thinking any further. “It’s time,” he intoned. 

From your place in Minho’s arms, you saw that the group of Gladers, composed mostly of Keepers, had surrounded you in a semicircle. The way forward was blocked; your only way out was the Maze.

You and Minho separated slowly. Behind you, the Maze rumbled. Still, Minho held your hand in his, looking physically pained. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, hoping, desperate, pleading. 

You nodded.

Minho shook his head. “Please say it back, Y/N. Please.”

You glanced at the door starting to close, then at Alby, who stared hard-eyed at you and motioned for the Gladers to press in. You couldn’t find Newt in the crowd. Minho’s hand was heavy and warm in yours. Comforting.

With your last moments in the Glade, you darted close to Minho, pressed your lips to his cheek, and then slipped away from him, entering the Maze. The door thudded closed behind you. The sun had set. You were alone.

[hurting-fictional-people]

Whumper 4, caretaker 5 caretaker (doesn't know it's blood)

Is that ok?

Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Caretaker 5: “Let me help you.”

Yeah, of course that's ok :) I'm guessing that the parenthesis was supposed to go before the 'caretaker' and they don't know about the blood? well, I hope that's it because that's what I wrote haha, but if it wasn't, please feel free to send me another ask <3

Also, some content warnings because this one ended up a little intense: implied noncon (didn't mean to write it like that but the vibes are there so), noncon drugging, a very creepy and intimate whumper... there's comfort at the end though!

-

Whumpee should’ve known there was something weird about Whumper. No one could smile that big and talk that kindly without wanting something in return. They just never thought it’d be this.

“Come on, now. I don’t have the whole night. What’s your choice?”

All Whumpee does is close their eyes and shake their head, too overwhelmed to force any words out of their quivering lips.

“Whumpee, it’s not a hard one,” Whumper huffs, and they can hear the annoyance in their voice but they can’t convince themself to say the words. “Do you need me to repeat it to you?”

They don’t, the sound of Whumper’s offer still echoes inside their head, loud and clear.

But Whumper takes their silence as agreement.

“Here’s your choice: you can take these pills and be the entertainment of my party tonight, or I can go snatch someone else to do it. You’ll only stay if you agree, and if you don’t, I’ll let you walk away and never see me again. It’d be a shame though, because everything is ready for you. I’ve been watching you, and oh Whumpee, you are just so… perfect. But, in case you say no, I can always go after someone else. Say… Caretaker? I’m told they are a friend of yours.”

Their heart pounds in their ears, so loud Whumpee is almost surprised Whumper can’t hear it too.

“I can go get them if you want me to. Can’t promise they’ll come out in one piece after my guests finish playing, though. Not like I can promise you. You are far too precious to be permanently damaged, you I can promise to keep somewhat safe. Caretaker on the other hand, not so much. Who knows what those troglodytes could do to them if I give them a free pass?”

Whumper’s laugh fills the basement Whumpee woke up in only minutes ago, bouncing off the walls and making Whumpee’s skin crawl. How could they trust the mysterious stranger who offered them a ride? Why hadn’t they been more careful? Now here they are, locked in a basement with someone twice their size and no hope of escape. If only they’d been more careful–

“Well?” Whumper says, drawing Whumpee’s attention back to those narrowed eyes, glinting with cruelty.

“W-what will you do to me?” Whumpee whispers through the thick layer of fear enveloping their world. “If, if I say yes… what then?”

Their smile is almost as horrid as their laughter. Whumpee shrinks against the wall, pulling their knees closer to their chest. “If you say yes my love, the pills will start working in a few minutes. I will give you a nice new outfit while the drugs do their job and then when you are barely able to walk, I’ll help you up the stairs. Everyone will be so happy to see you, Whumpee.” Their eyes burn, but no tears fall when Whumper scoots closer and touches their hair, gentle fingers brushing back sweaty locks. “And then we will have fun. You’ll barely remember it afterward, but I will remember it forever. You might be left with some sore spots but all temporary. Well, almost all temporary, won’t promise one or two marks for you to remember me later. Maybe a few scratches, some of my friends are remarkably fond of knives. But the point here is that you’ll make anything we want you to, and that’s the real fun.”

“And if I say no?”

“If you say no, I’ll go after your friend. Kidnap them, just like I did you. And when they awake, they won’t be given the choice I’m giving you since it wasn’t them I really wanted. I’ll take them upstairs, and we’ll make them hurt. Scream. Cry. Maybe I’ll record it and send it all to you so you know what fate you chose for them. Now, what's your choice, Whumpee? Tell me.”

As they speak terrible word after terrible word, Whumper’s fingers continue to play with Whumpee’s hair. Twisting and brushing and caressing. Always so soft, so awfully soft in comparison to the nightmares they spit into Whumpee’s brain.

“Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?”

A tear finally escapes, only to be brushed away by Whumper’s touch.

“But don’t worry. If you make the right choice, It won’t be all pain, baby. It’ll be about those big scared eyes and that delightful little quiver on your lip. About how gorgeous you will look when you’re barely able to walk, and how you will cling when you can’t think straight. And I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll take care of you.”

Whumper is right.

In the end, it isn’t a hard choice.

Whumpee closes their eyes and nods at the same time a soft, broken “okay,” slips out of their lips. It doesn’t feel like the lock of a door they were expecting. It feels like taking a step into the void, and knowing there’ll be thorns waiting for them when they fall.

Still, it’s with Caretaker’s smile in their head that they force themself to swallow when two round pills touch their lips. They don’t open their eyes until a bottle of water is held for them to drink from. It is only when there is no more chance for them to break and plead to be let go, even if they want to, desperately, that they let their eyes flutter open.

Whumper is waiting for them with a wide smile when they do.

“Let us begin then.”

And so they do.

Whumper brushes Whumpee’s hair and gently applies makeup to their face. When they ask Whumpee to undress and give them new clothes, they don’t hesitate to obey, and only when Whumper is closing their zipper for them do they realize how faint they feel.

When they are placed in front of a mirror, Whumpee looks at the shiny clothes but forgets what they looked like as soon as they are led away. By the time the door is opened and music first hits their ears, they are leaning against Whumper to keep standing.

They try to climb the stairs. Narrowing their eyes to concentrate, they raise their foot, but the world is filled with blurred colors and too-quick movement, and the only reason they don’t fall is Whumper’s fast hands holding them up.

Whumpee is almost grateful when Whumper chuckles and whispers against their hair. “Easy there, baby. Let me help you.”

They rest their head against Whumper’s heart when they are picked up bridal style, and stay that way until the lighting changes and voices fill the air.

They are placed on the floor, and with Whumper’s help, manage to keep standing, even though the floor refuses to stand still under their feet.

And then there are hands on their hands, squeezing and hurting, and Whumpee tries, they try so hard, but instead of the firm no they want to say, only a moaned “n-hng, I, I, d-don, wha-what’s hap-happe–,” comes out.

And then the world slips away, and though their body still moves, they are barely there anymore to see it.

-

When Caretaker’s doorbell rings, they don’t hesitate to jump out of bed and run to the door. They’ve been sending Whumpee messages all night without response, and concern rings louder than sleep. Only when they open the door and see the sunrise do they realize how early it already is.

And then their gaze slides to the figure leaning against their doorframe, head bowed and shoulders slumped, and their heart misses a beat.

“Whumpee?” Caretaker calls, reaching out their hand.

But before they can touch sparkly clothes they’ve never seen their friend wearing before, Whumpee cowers away. Caretaker retreats, but their heart races even faster.

“Whumpee, what’s wrong? Where were you, did something happen?”

Whumpee looks up, and Caretaker doesn’t need an answer to know what happened. Wide pupils, half-lidded eyes, smudged makeup and parted lips tell them all they need to know.

“Oh, Whumpee.”

There are stains all over their clothes, too. Is it spilled alcohol? Is it vomit?

“Oh, Whumpee,” Caretaker sighs again, taking a slow step in their direction, feeling a sad, involuntary frown settling on their forehead. “What did you do?”

Whumpee follows their steps with their eyes but keeps still. It is only when Caretaker comes close enough for touch and extends their hand that they wince and shrink into themself again.

“Honey, I can see you’re not okay,” Caretaker says as calmly as they can. “Let me help you.”

Another step, and this time all Whumpee does is close their eyes and let out a low whimper. Caretaker sighs again as they help Whumpee wrap their arm around their shoulders and lead them inside.

Whumpee is almost a dead weight in Caretaker’s arms as they help them get into the bathroom, to seat on the toilet and lean back against the wall.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Caretaker asks, crouched down in front of Whumpee.

“I, I, I don– don’t, W-Whum-per. They, they, they did... something.”

“Who’s Whumper, love?”

But all Whumpee does is shake their head no as tears stream down their cheeks.

“Okay, you can tell me later. Can you at least tell me what did you use?”

The look Whumpee gives Caretaker is so utterly lost, that they nearly start crying as well.

“Don’t… kn-know. Pills?”

“How about a shower, and then we talk more, huh?” Caretaker tries, nodding encouragingly. Whumpee swallows, but doesn’t nod along with them. Instead, their eyes dart around the bathroom, searching for nothing.

With a reassuring squeeze on their knee, Caretaker gets into the shower and turns on the faucet. As the water warms up, they take one look at Whumpee’s slumped form and walk over to the mirror.

Clutching the cold porcelain of the sink, Caretaker looks up at their own image in the mirror – tired and disappointed, but also patient. Worried.

“You can do this,” they mouth to themself, “Whumpee needs your help.”

With one last sigh, they turn their head to Whumpee and take a step in their direction. And then a step back, when something grabs their attention at their peripheral vision.

Caretaker stares at their image in the mirror again and feels their heart stop when they see their sleeve stained red. The sleeve where their friend’s arm had just touched.

It isn't alcohol or puke on Whumpee’s clothes.

It is blood.

“Whumpee,” they call, dropping to their knees in front of them. Whumpee jumps and meets Caretaker’s stare with wide, scared eyes. “You are bleeding. Are you hurt? I need you to tell me where you are hurt, Whumpee.”

But all they do is breathe faster and faster, pure helplessness on their face.

“If you can’t tell me, I need to find the source of blood on my own. I’m taking your shirt off, okay?”

Caretaker doesn’t wait for an answer, and Whumpee doesn’t give them one.

They don’t fight Caretaker’s hands when they pull the shirt over their head, even when a pained hiss leaves their lips.

Caretaker holds their breath when they see Whumpee’s bared skin.

Bruises color their entire torso, as well as long crisscrossing welts. Their arms are covered in small, rounded marks that look dreadfully like cigarette burns. Cuts, deep and superficial litter everything, some already closed, some still weeping blood. There’s barely any smooth skin left.

“What happened to you?” Caretaker breathes, searching for answers in Whumpee’s terrified eyes. “Who did this?”

All the answer they get is a soft sob and a cold forehead hitting their shoulder as Whumpee falls forward and nuzzles into their neck.

Caretaker hugs them back, careful not to touch or press on sore skin, feeling their stomach churn when their fingers bump into more cuts along their back.

“I’m here now,” Caretaker whispers against their hair, tears of their own rolling down their cheeks, “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again, Whumpee. You are safe. You are safe.”

They stay like that until the bathroom is foggy from the warm water falling from the shower and Whumpee’s shoulders stop shaking, but when Caretaker helps them undress and oh-so-carefully cleans the wounds, there’s only drowsiness and chemicals behind the fear in their eyes.

They have no idea what they'll do once Whumpee comes to. Or what they'll do to whoever Whumper is if they get the chance.

-

Prompts from this list. Still taking them but I can't promise how fast I'll write it haha