#but! I was glad they did the replay and reader I died

[epiphanytear]

Not a day goes by where I don’t think about the rap line performing UGH! and Cypher Pt 3 in Busan

[couldyouimagine-that]

I'll Hold You

Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count; 1.5k

Warnings; reader struggling to cope with a hunt gone wrong, mentions of death, Lucifer being Lucifer.

Pairing; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader

Reader doesn't want to be alone after a hunt and goes to Lucifer - he plays with them a little, but he's glad they came to him.

This can be read as a part two to Cuddles With Satan, but it's also good as a standalone!

Masterlist

-

The first time you went to Lucifer for comfort, company – you didn’t even know what – your stomach had been in knots. The latest hunt had gone wrong and people had died, and on this particular day you just couldn’t cope with that knowledge. Sam and Dean had each sequestered themselves with varying degrees of alcohol and you had done the same out of habit. The problem was that much as you enjoyed the time you got to yourself, your greatest battles were always fought alone with your mind. It chose to keep replaying the deaths of the civilians you couldn’t save, and when it wasn’t doing that, there was a constant stream of words and whining white noise that left your thoughts reeling. You tried desperately to claw your way back to reality, making the effort to really feel your weight on your mattress where it contacted your body, to listen for small sounds like those made by the water pipes in the bunker, but it was no good.

You clawed your fingers back through your hair as you stood and physically shook yourself out, then set off at a brisk walk through the bunker’s corridors. You made a lap past the bedrooms, through the library and war room, the kitchen, and finally back to the bedrooms again, your thoughts blissfully silenced by the movement. Until you arrived back at your own door and found you didn’t want to go in. You knew you needed to be with another person, but you were frightened by what exactly that meant. Dean and Sam, much as they cared for you, needed to be alone to deal with their own trauma from the day’s events. Castiel was in another state entirely, on a mission to track down some artefact that he thought would come in useful in the future. That left only one, and the very thought made your stomach flip. Lucifer.

He had taken up a room in the bunker, so that he too could have some privacy even if he didn’t need to sleep, and worry was twisting through your gut before you even took the first step towards his door. The walk to the end of the corridor was excruciating, your legs feeling as weak as jelly and your hands trembling. What would you even say to him? The boys had no idea you had finally given in during a moment of unparalleled exhaustion and allowed Lucifer to hold you while you slept. He had been gone when you woke up and hadn’t mentioned it since, nor even alluded to it. You certainly hadn’t had the courage to bring it up. And now what? You were going to one of the most powerful beings ever created, who had been around for almost all of creation and who was currently the biggest threat to you by miles, to ask him to hold you until you felt better. You could already hear the mockery in his voice.

You drew in a shaky breath as you stood outside his door, hand raised to knock, when it drew back of its own accord.

Lucifer’s frame took up most of the doorway, his entire being radiating casual confidence. Your nerves skyrocketed as you looked up to meet his direct gaze and had to fumble for words. He was completely relaxed, his expression telling you I knew you’d come.

“You were thinking about me so much it was pretty much a prayer,” he purred. “Why did you come to me?”

This wasn’t going to be easy, then. You bit your tongue, trying to calm yourself.

“The hunt went bad,” you started, voice blissfully steady. His answering hum said I know. I don’t care. “The boys need their space to recover. I need… I need to not be alone.”

“And?” Worse than just the nerves permeating your every cell, now you were starting to feel the heat of embarrassment too. He was going to make you say it out loud. Your swallow was so harsh that even you could hear it.

“I wanted your company.” His head dropped forward just a fraction of an inch, eyes locked square on yours. Keep going. “I – I wanted… What we did before, I…” You breathed in sharply. “I wanted you to hold me again. Please.”

Heat burned the backs of your ears as you spoke, but the look that came over Lucifer’s face could only be described as malicious satisfaction. He held out a hand to you, palm up, and watched intently as you hesitated but ultimately stepped forward to take it. His movement was easy as he drew you inside with him and closed the door behind you. Lucifer let his fingertips brush your palm as he dropped your hand and strode slowly over to the fully made bed, laying down in the middle of it with his legs crossed elegantly. He leaned his weight back on his elbows as he watched you, still standing uncertainly near the door.

Lucifer glanced down at his side to indicate where he wanted you, a smirk starting to curl the corner of his lips at your continued hesitation. His eyes bored into you until you felt small and you almost wanted to leave, but then that would leave you alone with your thoughts again, and at least this little game of his was forcing you to focus on the present. Some quiet part of you wondered if he would even let you leave, now that you had knowingly walked into the lion’s den. You knew why he was doing this; by making you join him yourself, by making you say what he already knew you wanted out loud, it rendered the entire situation a choice made by your own free will. And that was something you had no doubt he would hold over you.

As the silence stretched, you finally decided to force yourself to stop thinking. Your steps were quiet as you approached him, and you kneeled on the edge of the bed first before leaning down to support your weight on one hand. You tried to drop his gaze by looking down at his chest but he wouldn’t let you, a finger beneath your chin drawing your head back up again. You knew in that moment you had finally decided to play his game properly, holding his amused gaze as you scooted towards him and laid down against his chest, a leg over his and your hands on his shoulders. His real smile was no less threatening than the smirk had been.

“There,” Lucifer cooed, voice unbelievably soft. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it.”

You chose not to answer in words, instead pushing against his shoulders until he conceded to lay back against the pillows. His arms moved to ensnare you immediately, pressing hard across your lower back and spine to hold you to him. You let him trap your head under his chin as you tucked your face against his shoulder, your own arms finding their way around him. With the weight of his hold and the solid feeling of his body against you, with his breath lightly stirring your hair, you relaxed into him, realising your mind was finally quiet. You smiled in relief at your effortless focus on the present and squeezed your arms around the archangel in thanks before you could think better of it. In response, you again felt the touch of his lips to your forehead and again you didn’t comment, but god if you didn’t want to.

-

Lucifer, despite his love for a bit of powerplay, knew how bad you felt and how poorly you were coping. Humans as a species were a thorn in his side, but there was something about you that he wanted more of. His lips curved at the thought of you coming to him for comfort, for safety, to be grounded and protected. That wasn’t a sin in his mind, since he didn’t view himself as the image his father had created for humans to fear and to blame. You had chosen him, out of the many better, safer options you had, and he was going to make sure you kept on doing it. The physical contact didn’t hurt either, he thought belatedly, since no one had ever knowingly chosen to be close to him the way you had.

The archangel felt you give a little sigh as you shifted, trying to press yourself against him even more. He obliged you since he thought it was cute, starting to move his thumbs in gentle circular motions over your back. The next sigh you gave, this one incredibly content, made him wonder if you had forgotten what exactly you were curled up in the arms of. It would only serve to make him more satisfied if you had, but there was no need to find that out now. Time slipped by as your breathing slowed and evened out, but the grin that stretched his lips each time he thought of the trust you had in him didn’t fade.

[sanemistar]

bibi, hi again! i just noticed your requests are still open! any chance you could do something with rengoku? the lack of soft kyojuro appreciation on this app is insane to me. maybe something hurt/comfort? if this is too broad, let me know, i'll try to brainstorm something! im just so desperate for sweet sweet kyojuro <3 much love!

safe and sound — kyojuro rengoku

pairing: rengoku x hashira fem!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

wc: 794

warnings: brief mentions of death and blood

a/n: i love rengoku sm he's a cutie :(( he deserves more love and appreciation !! thank u for requesting and i hope u enjoy reading <3

you'd been through a tough fight with an upper moon demon all by yourself since you were the only hashira there and all your comrades were lower ranking demon slayers who were defeated by the demon. it was so long that it lasted until sunrise, but you managed to defeat it with your great talent and abilities. you were one of the strongest hashiras out there after all. however it left you severely injured that you had to be taken immediately to the butterfly estate, and it surely traumatized you. being put in a life or death situation and seeing your comrades die one by one was quite the harsh experience, you wanted to save everyone, you wanted to come back victorious without losing anyone. but it wasn't the case.

your boyfriend, kyojuro, once the news of you being transferred to the butterfly estate reached his ears he instantly dropped whatever he had in his hands and headed to where you were. he slowly walked in and sat right by your side. and there you were, eyes closed and your body was covered in bandages. he clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white, he watched you with his heart full of concern and with a pained look all over his face.

his body flinched slightly when he heard you murmur some incoherent noises in your sleep as your eyebrows furrowed. he gently held your hand as his thumb soothingly stroked the back of your hand. kyojuro's heart shattered when a few tear drops fell from your eyes and down your cheeks, he began blaming himself for not being there on time to help you out and left you all alone.

his train of thoughts was immediately cut short when you startled him by getting up with a panicked expression on your face, wincing in pain from your injuries and panting as drops of cold sweat had formed onto your forehead. you had an awful nightmare, the horrific events of earlier replayed themselves ruthlessly and violently, the sight of the spilled crimson blood was very clear, the faces of those who died were so awfully vivid, their desperate eyes and screams haunted you.

“i-i failed… i couldn’t do anything, kyojuro. i couldn’t save anyone..” more tears continued to escape your eyes and fell onto your cheeks, a strong feeling of guilt mixed with sadness and regret took over your heart.

upon seeing you in distraught, kyojuro extended his other free arm out and rested a hand on the side of your cheek, and the moment your cold skin came into contact with the warmth of his hand you felt all your fears and worries washing away slowly.

“you tried your best, y/n. you did everything you could. you surely didn’t fail.” he tried to console you, his hand still tightly holding onto yours.

“but we have to move on, we have to keep fighting. for the sake of our lost comrades.” you nod as kyojuro slowly began wiping away your tears, his thumb gently rubbed against your cheek and you leaned into his comforting touch. the one thing you loved about your boyfriend the most was his ability to say the things you needed to hear the most at the perfect timing.

"i'm so glad you came back alive, not that i didn't trust your abilities or anything but i was so worried about you, and sorry i wasn't there to protect you, y/n. it must’ve been hard on you." his grip onto your hand began to get tighter, and the genuine concern in his voice broke your heart a little. you knew your boyfriend has a high sense of responsibility, and he'd blame himself for not doing any better in regards of your safety.

you freed your hand from kyojuro’s grip and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him so close to you to the point where it felt like your bodies were glued together. your fingers run through his fiery, blond hair. he let a heavy sigh escape his lips as he secured his arms around you, savoring your scent that he missed so much.

“don’t blame yourself, kyojuro. none of this was ever your fault.” you gently patted his back, you could feel him slowly relaxing as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“i’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again, i promise i’ll protect you with my life.” kyojuro’s oath of protection had brought a sense of comfort and relief to your heart. at this exact moment, you were very grateful for having him by your side. you always felt safe and sound around him, and he provided you with the strength you needed to overcome any hardships, so this too, shall also pass.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Naughty Nanny Chapter 7

Summary:  Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand.  He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later.  But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her.  The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time.  Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought.

**In this universe Steve never left, Tony never died.** **curvy reader** Warnings: talk of sexual harassment, unwanted/non-consensual touching/sexual assault, eventual smut

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“Thanks to you, we’ve finally been able to get ahead of this,” Tony said as he shook Y/N’s hand.  Y/N gave him a slight nod and a tight-lipped smile.  “And I’m sorry about what I said,” he continued, looking away bashfully.  

“It’s fine, Tony, I understand,” Y/N said quietly.

He nodded and walked away.  Steve stepped forward and opened his arms.  She smiled wider and stepped into his embrace.  “I’m glad you’re okay.  I’m sorry we used you as bait.”

“It’s okay, Steve,” she reassured him.  When he pulled away she patted his chest.  “I’m a big girl.  I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure,” Steve smiled.  He looked behind her then back at her.  He leaned in slightly and whispered.  “He likes you.  Whatever happened, please talk to him.”

Y/N blinked and nodded as Steve smirked at her then walked away and out of the apartment following Tony.  She turned back to Bucky who was holding Winnie and rocking her to sleep.  After they had gotten home and done a quick mission debriefing she had taken a shower to clean off the blood and grime of the night.  She had been checked over for any after-effects from the alien taser, but everything seemed to be fine.  She was back in her comfortable clothes, a large cardigan over her sleep tank top and shorts.  Y/N padded over to him, her slippers shuffling on the floor softly.  “I can take her, Buck.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky replied, not looking at her.  “You need some rest.  It’s been a rough night.”

Y/N’s hands dropped.  “I’m okay, Bucky.  If anything I’d rather just forget all about it and focus on something else.”

Bucky shifted, watching Winnie’s eyes flutter.  “I just need to hold her for a bit.”

Y/N watched him then nodded and turned towards her room.  When she closed her door behind her Bucky exhaled shakily.  He didn’t know where to go from here.  The mission was over, she was safe, but too much had happened for them to just go back to how it was.  He still dreamt of her dancing on him, how her hips felt against him, her lips on his neck, her sultry voice.  And now the gruesome scream she’d let out over the earpiece, having to watch Kingpin hurt her replaying in his head repeatedly.  He hugged Winnie close to him, kissing her head and cheeks.  He hoped she’d never have to deal with those kinds of things in her life.

Bucky got Winnie set down for the night and closed her door.  As he turned to his room Y/N’s door opened.  “Buck, can we talk?” She asked quietly.

He froze and looked down at the floor.  “About what?”

”Everything,” she said.

Bucky turned around and looked at her.  “Sure.”  He might as well bite the bullet now.

Y/N turned back to her room and he followed her.  She gestured to the bed for him to sit and he did, keeping a foot between them.  She sat and crossed her legs, wringing her hands again.  “First off, I want to thank you for helping me tonight.  I feel,” she sighed, “better than I have in a year and half.  More free.  So thank you.”  Bucky nodded, still not looking at her.  “Secondly, I just want to apologize again for not telling you about going back to the club, and for putting you and Steve, but especially you, into a compromising and uncomfortable position.  And I apologize for how I handled it when we fought about it a week ago.”  Bucky glanced at her.  She was watching him, searching his face for something.  “And lastly, I want to apologize for lying during that fight,” she said.

”Lying?” Bucky asked, his eyes narrowing.

”Yeah, I uh, I lied.  You asked if that was just fun to me.  I said yes.  I lied,” she breathed.  

Bucky’s head tilted.  “Then what was it?”

She smiled softly at him.  “It was….”  She cleared her throat and swallowed harshly.  “I’ve been attracted to you from the moment I met you.  But I pushed it away because it was a job.  But then you turned out to be a great guy, and a great dad to a wonderful little girl,” she smiled wider as she talked about Winnie.  “I love her, Buck, I hope you know that.  I’ve only been here for a little while and I feel like it’s been forever.  And when I saw you at the club that night I was so grateful it was you there, and I poured all my fear and my feelings for you into that dance because if that was all I was going to get then I was going to make it count.”  She huffed a breath.  “And when Kingpin had me tonight and was so…rough, it hurt so bad and all I wanted was for you to hold me and touch me like you did that night,” her voice cracked as her lips trembled with emotion.

Bucky quickly moved so he could sit next to her.  He reached his hands out as he twisted his body to face her and cupped her cheeks gently, rubbing her cheekbones with his thumbs to swipe any shed tears away, leaning forward so his forehead rested against her forehead.  He could see the red welt where Kingpin had slapped her and he softly palmed the area with his metal hand.  She seemed to melt into his touch, welcoming the coolness on her face.  “Tell me where it hurts.  Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”

Y/N inhaled shakily and looked into his eyes.  “You won’t judge me?”

“I don’t judge you, you don’t judge me, remember?” Bucky asked.

She licked her lips and bit her bottom lip before replying.  “I just need…I need you to touch me, everywhere he touched me.  Make me forget it all,” her hands gripped his wrists.

Bucky nodded in understanding.  She needed trusted hands, good hands, to take away the hurt he inflicted.  He moved his hands away from her face and down to her neck.  His fingers tilted her jaw to her left, and he leaned in and kissed the welt on her cheek.  She was breathing heavily, her eyes closing at his soft touch.  He then slipped his metal hand away from her neck to her shoulder so his flesh hand could wrap around her throat.  He didn’t squeeze, didn’t move, just kept his face close to hers, his nose gliding along her cheek as he held her there.  Her fingers moved from his wrist to his hand at her throat.  He felt her swallow against his fingers, her pulse racing for a few moments before she was able to calm down.  She lightly pressed against his hand and he moved it down her chest.  Bucky stopped his hand just above the swell of her breast and looked at her again.  “What do you need?” he whispered.  

Y/N looked down at her breasts, her cleavage already slightly showing from her sleep top.  She looked back up at him with a hesitant look.  “Could you sit behind me?”

Bucky slowly nodded and pulled away.  He stood and maneuvered his way behind her.  He leaned against her headboard of the bed, splaying his legs for her to sit between them.  Y/N shuffled back into him, leaning her back against his front.  He kept his hands to his sides, waiting for her to tell him what to do.  She sat for a minute, evening out her breathing, then her right hand grabbed his flesh hand and brought it back up to her throat.  He laid his hand across her throat, once again not squeezing, just resting it there.  Her left hand grabbed his metal hand and brought it to her stomach to rest there.  She then reached her hands up to her tank top, gripping the top hem with her fingers.  She twisted her head to look back at him.  “Is this okay?”

Bucky nodded.  At this point he would do whatever she asked of him.  She nodded and looked back down.  She pulled the hem of her top down until her breasts spilled over it.  She paused for a moment, then pulled his metal hand up to her left breast.  He rested his hand on it, not moving, letting her decide what she wanted to do.  As much as he enjoyed this view, he knew this wasn’t for him.  She paused for another minute, then brought his other hand down from her throat, her chest, her stomach, then cupping his hand between her legs.  Y/N let him hold her for another minute or two, then leaned her head back against his shoulder.  Her eyes were closed and she exhaled through her nose.  “Touch me…please.”

Bucky inhaled deeply then did as she asked.  His metal hand began gently cupping her breast, squeezing it and his thumb rubbing over her nipple.  Her nipple stiffened as he continued touching her.  His flesh hand between her legs didn’t move, just covering her protectively.  She turned her head slightly towards his face and he nuzzled his nose into her hair, kissing her forehead.  She let him keep touching her until he carefully tweaked her nipple with his fingers and her back arched, a low hum reverberating through her chest.

“Feels so good, Bucky,” Y/N moaned.  Her legs parted wider, opening up against his thighs that caged her.  Bucky’s breathing was getting faster seeing the effect he was having on her.

“I want to make you feel good, Y/N,” he murmured into her ear.  “You made me feel good that night.  Let me take care of you.”  Y/N’s mouth dropped open as she gasped.  She looked back at him, the expression on her face one of pure desire.  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

Y/N nodded frantically.  Bucky smirked then pulled away.  She looked at him confusedly as he moved away and stood by the bed again.  He pushed her shoulder back until she was lying down, looking up at him.  He climbed up the bed until he was laying next to her, propped up on his metal elbow.  He used his flesh hand to reach up and cup her face as he leaned down to bring his face closer to hers.  He studied her face for any sense of hesitation, and upon finding none, he closed the gap and kissed her.

Y/N immediately responded, her lips pressing up into his hungrily.  Her hands reached up and around his head, one hand gripping the back of his neck to keep him close and the other running through his hair.  She tugged the strands at the back of his head, making him moan against her.  His hand then traveled down from her face, to her neck, to her chest, over her breast, down her stomach and to the top hem of her sleep shorts.  He hooked his thumb under it and paused.  She nodded against his mouth and he started to pull her shorts down.  After some giggles and awkward positioning he was able to get them and her underwear off.  His hand slowly moved up her thigh until his fingers slid along the crease of her leg to her pussy.

Y/N opened her mouth and her tongue tasted his lips.  He quickly opened his mouth and let her taste him first before greedily sucking her tongue.  His fingers slid between her lower lips, finding her already getting wet for him.  He moaned again as his fingers rubbed easily along her lips until he found her clit.  He smiled against her mouth as he started rubbing it gently.  Her hips bucked against his hand and her head fell back, finally breaking the kiss so she could loudly gasp.

Bucky’s face moved into the crook of her neck, kissing, licking and sucking at her throat as his fingers moved down below.  His thumb flicked her clit as his middle finger started to prod at her entrance.  He pushed his finger inside of her and her hands moved to grip the bed sheets.  As he started to thrust that finger in and out of her, his mouth moving along her neck to her collarbone she whimpered.  “That’s so good, Bucky.  Fuck sweetheart…”

Bucky smiled as he licked the swell of her breast and looked up at her.  “Sweetheart?”

Y/N giggled, her face finally fully smiling as she peered down at him.  “You don’t like it?”

“No, I love it.  Too much,” Bucky smirked as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Y/N’s head fell back again.  Her legs spread even wider as he added his pointer finger inside her, thrusting deep into her and curling his fingers as his thumb rubbed and flicked her clit repeatedly.  Her moans turned into high pitched squeaks and squeals as his fingers thrust faster.  “Give it to me, honey.  I want it so bad,” Bucky growled against her breast, the tip of his tongue flicking her nipple at the same speed as his thumb flicking her clit.

Y/N’s voice gave out after another squeal and her body stiffened before she sputtered out a groan and she came around his fingers.  He could feel her pussy fluttering around them as he watched her cum, his smile widening as he gave her nipple one more particularly hard suck and then let off of it with a pop.  He watched her hips twitch and buck against his hand as his fingers fucked her through her orgasm.  Bucky continued thrusting his fingers languidly until she reached down and gripped his wrist.  “I can’t…Bucky…oh god…”

Bucky stopped and pulled his fingers out slowly.  He brought them up and looked at her cum on his fingers and his hand.  He shifted himself up the bed till he was closer to her face.  Her eyes were still closed, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to breathe normally again.  He kissed her cheek, making her open her eyes and look at him.  He waited until she was focused on him and then sucked his middle finger into his mouth.  She watched him taste her.  His eyes rolled slightly as he licked his finger clean.  When he pulled it out she moved her head up and her hand gripped his wrist again to bring his fingers to her mouth.  She sucked on his pointer finger, looking at him the entire time.  She then sucked his middle finger into her mouth, too, and licked and sucked them both like they were his cock like she did that night of the lap dance.

Just as Bucky bit his lip while watching her, a cry came through the baby monitor in Y/N’s room.  They both froze, waiting to see if Winnie would settle down, but a moment later it came again, louder this time.  Bucky plopped his forehead down on Y/N’s shoulder and sighed as she removed his fingers from her mouth and giggled.  

“Cockblocker,” Bucky mumbled against her skin.

Y/N laughed as she ran her fingers through his hair again.  “I’ll get her.”

“No, I’ll get her.  You just relax,” he said as he moved away.  He got up and went to her bathroom in her room, grabbed a washcloth and wetted it before coming back and wiping between her legs gently.  He picked up her discarded underwear and shorts and handed them to her as she was adjusting her breasts back into her top.  She sat up and thanked him.  He smiled and turned to leave before coming back to her.  He leaned down and kissed her deeply again.  “Rest,” he instructed her.

“But…?” Y/N started, looking down at the tent in his pants.

“I’ll be fine, honey.  We can figure that all out later,” he said as Winnie’s cry rang out louder through the monitor.  “Tonight was all about you.  Thank you for trusting me,” he smiled again and kissed her nose.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes looking more tired by the second.  “Okay, sweetheart.”

Bucky smiled a wide, toothy smile at the pet name before Winnie wailed.  “Alright, I’m coming!” he called out, turning and jogging out of the room.

@angelbabyyy99 @capswife @julvrs @bellabarnes1378 @mostlymarvelgirl @mega-kittyglitter-1 @buckitostan @drdbnkl2008 @wintrsoldrluvr @danzer8705

[edgarapoecolouredglasses]

Little mastermind part five

THE GIF IS NOT MINE

Pairing: Troy Otto/Reader

Summary: This chapter is a wild ride. Troy seems to be seeking out Y/n less since the accident. She thinks it’s because it’s going so well in the group and he doesn’t need her help so much. That soon turns out to be wishful thinking.

Part: 3/?

Masterlist

——————————

Hours later, Y/N was stable but still unconscious. Troy remained by her side, his hand clasped around hers as he sat in a chair next to the bed, his expression a mixture of worry and hope. After a few minutes, Tracy joined him, settling into his lap and gently taking Y/N’s hand from his grasp.

Troy, weary but attentive, turned to Tracy. “Tracy, can you tell me again what happened out there?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Tracy hesitated. After a moment, she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. “I asked y/n if she thought you were in love with her.”

Troy’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly caught off guard. “Why would you ask her that?” he asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

Tracy’s gaze dropped, her voice tinged with sadness. “Mom died when I was so young, and I never really knew what it was like to have a real family. Seeing how you and y/n are together, I thought maybe…”

Troy’s face softened as he listened to his daughter. This was a side of parenting he hadn’t anticipated and one he sure wasn’t ready for.

“Tracy, I do love y/n, but it’s as a very dear friend. Since your mom passed away, I haven’t even considered finding new love. Y/n is someone who has been there for us, but I don’t see her in that way.”

Tracy’s expression showed a mix of disappointment and understanding. “But Mom’s been gone for so long, Dad. I just want you to be happy. I see how y/n makes you smile, and I think she makes you happy. Isn’t that important?”

Troy sighed, his heart aching for his daughter. “I know you want the best for me, Tracy. And I appreciate that. But right now, we’re focused on surviving day by day. We don’t even have a stable home. I am too busy to think about anything else.”

Tracy looked at him with a desperate expression. “But y/n feels like a mom to me. I really care about her.”

He glanced back at Y/n, still unconscious but breathing steadily. “I’m glad you feel that way about her,” he said gently. “It means a lot that you have found someone who cares for you. But I want to be honest with you. I’m not in love with her, and I’m sorry if that’s not what you hoped for.”

Tracy nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I just wanted us to be a family.”

Troy hugged her close, feeling the weight of the moment. “We’ll figure things out,” he said softly. “For now, let’s focus on getting y/n back to full health and making sure she knows how much she means to us.”

————————————

A few weeks had passed since Y/n’s injury, and each day brought a bit more strength and recovery. Her body was regenerating its blood cells, and she could feel herself growing stronger with each passing day.

The group had reached a level of efficiency that felt almost seamless, as if every wheel had been oiled after years of grinding.

Her teenage apprentices had proven themselves ready to handle real patients. Olive was thriving in her role, and to Y/n’s surprise, it seemed that Troy’s need for her assistance had magically diminished.

Troy’s conversation with Tracy had been gnawing at him, the seeds of doubt firmly taking root in his mind. He found himself questioning his own feelings. Self-reflection wasn’t his strength—he preferred things direct and clear-cut, without the messiness of his emotions clouding his judgment.

Because of this, he had been seeking Y/N out less and less. Every time they did speak, he found himself lingering on their conversations long after they’d ended. He would lie awake at night, replaying their exchanges in his head, searching for answers to questions he hadn’t even wanted to ask. It frustrated him, this incessant need to analyze every word, every gesture.

There was a part of him that knew exactly why this was happening. But it couldn’t be, not after all this time. He needed to get his shit together and stop acting like the overly hormonal young man that he was when he met her.

Just because a nine-year-old wanted them together, didn’t mean it had to be so.

“Damnit” he sighed

———————————

Y/N was finally able to walk around again, her strength slowly returning after weeks of recovery. It was good timing too—supplies were running low, and with the group growing, their needs were becoming harder to meet. They couldn’t stay here much longer.

She made her way to where the so-called ‘guards’ stood, waiting for the supply run party to return. Tracy was already there, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, her small face serious as she watched the gates intently. Y/N smiled softly as she approached the young girl.

“You didn’t visit me today,” Y/N said gently, stopping beside her.

Tracy turned to her, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, before she looked down at her feet. “I wanted to, but Dad said you needed to rest… and Olive needed help with the toddlers.”

Y/N chuckled, reaching out to smooth a lock of Tracy’s hair behind her ear. “Your dad’s probably right. But I’m feeling better now. I’m glad you’re helping Olive though—you’re becoming quite the little helper.”

Tracy looked up again, a small, proud smile crossing her face. “I like helping. But… I missed you.”

Y/N’s heart warmed at that, and she gave Tracy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I missed you too. I’ll make sure to see you tomorrow, alright?”

Before Tracy could respond, the sound of engines approaching drew their attention. The supply run party was pulling through the gates, the truck rumbling to a stop. Tracy’s face lit up immediately, and she stood on her toes, scanning the group until her eyes landed on her father. Y/N followed her gaze and saw Troy stepping out of the truck, his usual serious expression softened as he spotted his daughter.

“There’s your dad,” Y/N said with a smile, nudging Tracy gently.

Tracy didn’t hesitate. She darted off toward her father, and Y/N watched as Troy crouched to meet her halfway, scooping her into his arms. He spoke to her in low tones, pulled a small copy of ‘the little prince’ from his pocket and Tracy giggled in response, her earlier seriousness completely gone now that her father was back.

Y/N found herself smiling at the sight but couldn’t ignore the strange feeling that tugged at her chest. Things were going well. The group was functioning smoothly, they were working together efficiently, and her own health was improving. But there was an undercurrent of unease, something she couldn’t quite put into words.

Troy’s gaze lifted, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. He gave her a small nod of acknowledgment, and Y/N felt the weight of unspoken words pass between them before he turned his attention back to Tracy. She wondered if he sensed the same uncertainty she did.

————————————

I knocked softly, more out of habit than necessity, before slipping inside. Troy was at the desk, looking over a map, his brow furrowed in concentration. He glanced up when I entered but didn’t say anything, just gave a slight nod.

I shut the door quietly behind me, a subtle click echoing in the room. “Did you find anything today?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, but the tension was creeping in, the fear that things were getting worse pressing down on me.

Troy leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t answer right away, which only made my anxiety spike. Finally, he sighed, his eyes meeting mine. “Not much,” he admitted. “We got some food, but it’s not enough. Not for long.”

I nodded, trying to push down the growing sense of dread. I had feared this. “How long do we have?”

“A week. Maybe two, if we ration well.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick. “And the medical supplies?”

Troy shook his head. “Didn’t come across anything useful out there.”

I swallowed hard, crossing my arms as I leaned against the door. “So, we’re going to have to move soon.” It wasn’t a question; it was the truth we’d both known for a while now.

Troy rubbed his temples, the tension clear in his movements. “Yeah. We can’t stay here much longer. But we need a solid plan. If we leave without knowing where we’re going, we’ll end up worse off.”

I exhaled slowly, letting his words sink in. It was always like this—trying to make decisions for the entire group, trying to keep everyone safe. But we were running out of time and resources. And the uncertainty of what lay ahead was always gnawing at the edges of everything we did.

“Do you think we’ll find a place?” I asked, my voice softer now. “A place where we can really settle?”

He looked at me then, his eyes weary but still holding that unshakable resolve. “We have to. I promised everyone we’d find something. I promised you.”

There was something in the way he said that last part, something that made me feel both comforted and uneasy at the same time. I wanted to believe in that promise, and I did, but I also knew how fragile promises could be in a world like this.

I stepped closer to the desk, resting a hand on the edge. “We’ll make it,” I said, more for myself than him. “We’ve made it this far.”

Troy gave a small nod, but the weight of the conversation hung between us, unspoken fears lingering in the silence.

I looked at Troy, really looked at him this time. There was something in the way he sat there, the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes lingered on the map in front of him, but didn’t really seem to be seeing it. It wasn’t just the exhaustion—though we were all running on fumes at this point—it was something else, something deeper.

“Hey,” I said softly, stepping closer to him. “Are you okay?”

He glanced up at me, startled, like I had pulled him out of some distant thought he’d been trapped in. He opened his mouth to respond, but then hesitated. His usual quick answer didn’t come. Instead, he just stared at me for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to let me in on whatever was weighing him down.

He finally shrugged, his eyes dropping back to the map. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the words felt empty, lacking the usual conviction.

I wasn’t buying it. “Troy, come on. You don’t look fine.” I moved to sit on the edge of the desk, forcing him to meet my gaze again. “You’ve been off lately. Is it the run? The supplies?”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest defensively. “It’s just… everything,” he admitted after a long pause. “The supplies, the group, trying to keep everything together.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a tired gesture I’d seen him do a thousand times. “I’m trying to make the right decisions, but it’s… harder now.”

I frowned. “Harder how?”

He hesitated again, and I could see the war going on in his head. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m second-guessing myself,” he admitted, the words tumbling out like he hadn’t meant to say them. “I don’t usually… but lately…” He trailed off, looking down at his hands.

I blinked, surprised by the confession. Troy never doubted himself, at least not openly. He was always the one who had the answers, who kept us all moving forward. Seeing him like this was unsettling, like watching a pillar start to crack.

“What’s making you doubt yourself?” I asked, my voice gentle.

He shook his head, but I could see the tension in his expression. “I don’t know. Everything. Tracy, the group, you—” He stopped short, his lips pressing into a tight line as if he’d said too much.

I raised an eyebrow at that last part. “Me?”

He rubbed a hand across his face, clearly frustrated with himself. “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”

I wasn’t about to let that slide. “No, Troy. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

He looked at me again, this time with a conflicted expression that I couldn’t quite read. “It’s just… lately, I’ve been thinking about things I shouldn’t. Things that aren’t important right now. And it’s distracting me. I can’t afford distractions.”

I tilted my head, trying to understand. “What things?”

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought he might actually tell me. But then he shook his head again, standing up abruptly and turning away. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice firmer now. “I need to stay focused on what’s important.”

I stood up too, crossing my arms as I watched him pace a little. “Troy, whatever’s on your mind, it clearly matters to you. And if it’s affecting you this much, then it’s important.”

He stopped pacing and looked at me, his expression softening just slightly. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Y/n” he admitted quietly, the vulnerability in his voice surprising me. “I’ve always had a clear direction, but now… everything feels off-balance.”

I took a step closer, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to figure everything out on your own, you know. We’re in this together.”

He looked down at my hand for a moment, then back up at me. There was something in his eyes—something uncertain, something conflicted—but before I could read it, he pulled away, stepping back. “I know. I just… need some time to think.”

I nodded slowly, though part of me felt like we were leaving something unsaid. “Alright. But don’t shut me out, okay? If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Troy gave a small, reluctant nod. “Thanks.”

I watched him for a moment longer, wanting to say more, but unsure of what. There was a distance between us now, one I hadn’t noticed before. And I wasn’t sure what it meant, or if I should even try to bridge it.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” I said finally, turning to leave, though the tension in the room stayed heavy. As I reached the door, I glanced back at him, hoping that whatever was going on in his head, he’d figure it out soon

——————————————————

Let me know what you think!

————

@aldenenjoyer @elleirbag50

Let me know if you want to be tagged for the next part

[emotionalcraney]

The Weight Of The World

F!Donatello x gn! reader

Word Count - 2K

Genre - mostly fluff, angst to comfort, established relationship (friendship)

Warnings - Anxiety attack??? (please let me know how to categorize this properly)

Summary - The Apocalypse was finally staring to weigh on you, and when everything gets to much, he’s there to comfort you.

A/N - First post on this blog! Please enjoy what I came up with in the shower.

It was too much.

All your choices had led you here.

You must be living in the bad timeline.

It all essentially came crushing down after Raph died. The reality had finally kicked in. You had met the turtles only a few years ago, and you never imagined that all your silly adventures would result to this. It all happened too fast.

Now, here you were.

Trying to somehow live; knowing that one of your friends was gone forever. All the regrets, dreams and actual events replayed on your mind, all of them loud and overlapping. One after another, shouting. Getting louder. And louder. And louder. An-

You heard something break.

The mug you’d grabbed earlier had slipped out of your hands.

“Oh.”

When did you even grab that mug? How much time had passed since you had gotten up? Where even where you? What were you doing?

You looked at your hand. It was shaking violently. Then, you looked at your surroundings. You were in the base’s cafeteria? At least that made some sort of sense.

But.

The place was empty.

Well, all except for Leo. One of the only people you didn’t want to see you like this.

Leo just stared right back at you. He was mostly confused, but he also had that face that meant you were in trouble.

“What are you doing?” He asked blatantly.

You just stared back.

“You shouldn’t be up. You have shift tomorrow,” He said with a strict tone.

“I do?” You asked in sincerity.

“Why are you here?”

“I… I don’t really know.”

He looked into your eyes for a few seconds and sighed. He sounded so tired all the time, but this time, you felt that tiredness slip through his mask more.

“Why is it always you and Donnie?” He said with a tired look in his eyes.

He then got up from his seat and went towards you. Without another word exchanged, he grabbed you by your waist and put you over his shoulder.

Usually, he did this when you overworked yourself. Whenever someone would overwhelm themselves, he would put them in a special room to make people relax and let them rest. The most frequent users of that room were, Donnie, followed by you, followed by Mikey.

The only person who would never use it was Leo.

Usually, you would try to fight against his efforts and tell him you were fine. That you needed to get back to work and that it was imperative to keep doing something.

But today, you just sat there. Limp.

A part of you knew that you needed to rest in order to do anything that was actually productive.

Leo had seen all types of reactions when he dragged people to the resting room, as he liked to call it. Screaming, crying, full-on panic, and even defeat, just like you were doing now.

He knew why you were acting so different now. He felt the same, and he was glad that in a way you were letting yourself be helped.

After walking for quite a bit, you guys finally reached the resting room. He dropped you off in the room and quickly left, due to his own tiredness.

It was strange. The whole time you were being taken to this room, it felt as if you were watching all the events in a bird’s-eye-view. It felt like an out of body experience. And you were still in trace, too focused to notice who was to the bed next to you.

“What are you in for?”

Confused by the new voice, you looked around and met eyes with none other than Donnie.

“Huh?”

“What are you in for?” He said more slowly, figuring you were still processing his sentence.

“Oh. I think I broke again.”

“Oh? What happened this time?”

You and Donnie would have a similar conversation to this almost every other week. It wasn’t out of the blue at all.

“I don’t even know.” You said sincerely.

“Well, that’s probably why Leo sent you over here.”

“Yeah. This actually might be the first time I’m glad he did.”

Donnie gave you a confused look. Almost everyone on base agreed that if you were sent to the resting room, it was a punishment. Even after how much Leo preached about how it was for everyone’s own good.

Donnie and you were the main people promoting the resting room as a punishment, so hearing you say that you were okay being sent here set off a flag or two in his brain.

“What did you do?”

“Oh, nothing! Why are you in?” You asked, trying to ignore what was making you so overwhelmed.

You liked talking to Donnie. His ramblings were fun to follow as well as see. His passion was clear every time he went into lecture mode. So, since you were given the opportunity, you wanted to unwind by listening to Donnie.

Donnie didn’t want to switch topics, but he wanted to respect your boundaries. He also wasn’t sure you were okay enough to process what had made Leo send you here.

“Well, I’ve been working on something new to help us win this war. This time, it will be different. Leo just doesn’t get it, and since I’ve been working nonstop this week, he sent back to time out.”

“Sounds like Leo.” You said, letting out a small smile.

Seeing you smile made Donnie feel a bit more relieved and he also smiled.

After a moment or two of silence, you realized you were sleepy.

“Hey, you know what, I think I’m gonna lay down on the extra beds.”

“Go right ahead. I drank enough coffee to finish my newest project and now I have to deal with the consequences.”

“Okay, good night, Don! ”

“Night.”

He chuckled to himself. Even when you were obviously not feeling well, you had enough energy to be cheery and positive. He had no idea how you did it.

When you got yourself comfortable in that bed, you went out like a light. You clearly had no idea how much your body needed to just rest uninterrupted. That was a bad habit you had picked up in the years: You always burned yourself out to the point of complete exhaustion.

But of course, your body couldn’t actually let you rest.

Even when you were asleep, your body had to haunt you with dreams of the past and nightmares about the possible future. The bad times where exaggerated, the future what if’s were exaggerated, even the good times where exaggerated to look bad.

It was a mess of an abridged version of your life, They were parts of your life sloppily meshed together to show all the cons of your life. How your life was actually terrible and you were living in a nightmare. How you weren’t strong enough to deal with it, let alone save the ones you loved. How it was your fault for not being there since the beginning.

You fussed around the bed uncontrollably, unable to wake up and get out from the nightmares. They got worse and worse each time.

Until eventually you woke up in a cold sweat.

You were breathing heavily and gripping the bedsheets so tight your fingers hurt from the force you were using.

Alarmed by all the fussing to eventual heavy breathing, Donnie came to check on you.

“Hey! What happened? Are you okay?”

You were unable to respond to him as more thoughts and voices filled your brain. All you could do was stare down and try to take deep breaths, but your attempts were frail. You curled into a ball hoping everything could stop. All the voices. All the memories. All the thoughts.

Donnie slowly moved towards you and wondered what he was supposed to do. He had never seen you so distraught. It was disheartening to him. It seemed impossible. How can someone so positive and cheery be so torn down? Well, the apocalypse had really done a number on a lot of people. It didn’t seem that impossible anymore.

Still he had no idea how to comfort you, so following his own understanding of comfort, he tried saying a couple of things.

“Uh, do you want to talk about it?”

At his words, you looked towards him and tried to speak. You tried to say you were okay, that you didn’t need help. But, your throat was dry and no words could come out.

He noticed this, and tried to think of a way to help you. He was probably the last person anyone would think of to comfort them. Not good with feelings and emotions, let alone empathy.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I don’t know what’s wrong, but, let your feelings out. It’s healthier to feel what you feel rather than bottle up your emotions.” As he was saying this, he tried to keep eye contact with you and show interest in you.

You kept staring at him, but now you felt some sort of relief. The fact that Donnie was going so far out of his comfort zone in order to try and help you made you internally smile.

Unsure of what else to do, he gently patted your back twice.

“Do you, uh need anything?” He was running out of ideas of what else to do, so he decided to ask you directly in hopes that you would direct him.

Once again, you opened your mouth to speak and say that you needed nothing else, but your vocal cords did not cooperate. You wanted to tell him that he’d done enough, and that you were thankful for it. He had already gone so very out of his comfort zone just for you.

But you just kept crying and making unusual sounds in an attempt to speak.

Donnie was startled by your behavior and in an act of desperation, he wrapped his arms around you.

That was the goal, but your position limited his attempt to comfort you.

Nonetheless, it did it’s job.

It comforted your inconsolable state and let you be close to someone you loved. And in his end, Donnie felt good being able to help you feel more calm. That’s why he always wore himself out: So he could help those he deeply cared about.

Now it was him who couldn’t speak.

It was not so often that Donnie was left speechless or without something to say, but after he’d said everything he knew to comfort you, he couldn’t find anything else to say. This was one of a small percentage of times he would initiate physical contact with anyone, and it just meant that he trusted you.

And that it was okay.

You felt safe in his arms.

Your crying had finally slowed down.

And so, feeling relaxed, you let you weigh fall into his arms.

He was scared at first, he thought you’d passed out when he felt you go limp. But, he soon realized that you felt safe around him and you wanted him to know that.

So, in turn, he sat down on the bed with you and held you closer.

For a while, it was just him and you. Holding on to each other as if the world was ending. Which to be fair, it was. But that’s not why you were there together. It was because you both cared.

“…thank..you…” You were finally able to respond.

“No problem,” He quickly responded back.

Another few minutes of silence and just hugging passed between you and him.

“Would you, like me to do anything else to comfort you?” He asked, trying to sound confident, but clearly with a shy hidden tone.

“..just…stay..please,” was all you were able to mutter back.

“Of course.” He said, content with how the night had led him.

You were finally able to rest for a full night.

And the next morning, you were met with quite the surprise: Donnie, belly down, laying perfectly still on top of you.

He was heavy, but it wasn’t a suffocating weight. Rather a weight that made you feel grounded and secure. It was like every moment you had with him, you never wanted it to end.

Because it made you forget the kind of world that was waiting right outside your doors.

[kaeyazuha]

Hii ! Im so glad your rq! Are open agaim :)

I was wondering if you could do diluc and scara and maybe heizou since he's friend died its up to you ofc! having a nightmare about their past and the reader comforts them! (Just wanna comofrt these boys smm) thank you!!

; I'm sorry this took so long, but I hope it's worth it!

; 4/2/23

; CW: Lots of physical touch, backstory mentions for all characters, heizou's is kinda bittersweet

; Reverse Comfort, Fluff

𝗗𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗰 𝗥𝗮𝗴𝗻𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗿

✧ It’s rare that Diluc sleeps peacefully. Seeing as he normally rests at ungodly times of the morning and seldom falls into a deep sleep, he tries to get enough sleep to keep him going without the nightmares that replay in his head throughout the day. However, there’s only so much he can do before he trips and his past catches up to him again. This specific nightmare is one he’s familiar with, to the point that he has every little detail memorized and can always predict what comes after. Yet, it frightens him all the same. He sees his father's brilliant scarlet eyes that dull so rapidly, watching the bright red leak from his eyes and body. He sees his brother’s crystalline blue eyes, so full of fear and sorrow. He sees rain that falls from the sky and drips from his cheeks to the muddied grass. He sees his own reflection in a nearby puddle: He’s younger now, hair tied much higher with eyes brighter and eager to please, but they’re filled with tears and anger.

✧ He’s a fairly deep sleeper, unluckily for you. You try to wake him up lightly so as to not startle him but as you watch his face scrunch in pain and knuckles lighten from his grip on the sheets, you start shaking him like one of his signature cocktails. He wakes with a start, eyes wide and fearful as he stares through you rather than at you. It takes a while to bring him back to earth. He’s not angry, nor does he cry. He just….stares. Eyes hazy and unfocused as his body lies still where he sits. It’s as if he’s a statue, unmoving and silent. The first time he did this, it scared the hell out of you. Now though, you sit beside him and let him come to himself in his own time. Slowly, you reach for his hand to hold it. If this goes on too long, you start humming your favorite songs and tracing shapes along his scarred hands and arms.

✧ Diluc’s preferred source of comfort is physical touch, surprisingly. Words are nice, but he’s been told far too many that meant nothing. So he instead loves when you talk through your hands. When you rub circles into his back, fingers lingering over the scars you’ve kissed. When your trace hearts over his arms and shoulders, massaging them lightly while you mentally chide him for working so hard. He finds solace in how earnestly you touch him, as if tracing the most delicate of porcelain. He’s in love with how focused you are on tracing his skin like connect the dots, from freckles to sunspots to scars to random dips of skin to anywhere your eyes linger. He especially loves when you wipe the stray tears from his face, gentle eyes staring into his tired ones. He can’t help but lean into your palm, smiling so softly you nearly missed it. And slowly, comfortably, does he fall back asleep. 

- ✧ -

Of all the things to wake up to, the burning stare of two wide, reddened eyes staring back at you was not what you expected. You gasped shortly, before leaning back to get a full look of whatever it was you just witnessed. Your lover, your dear Diluc, was a mess. And it was frightening just how silent he was. He half hovered, half rested over his pillow- every inch of his body tense and rigid as a statue. His eyes, transfixed in fear, stared at nothing in particular. But most heartbreaking was the streaks of tears that dripped down from those sad eyes to the pillow below him. You sighed, sitting up fully and gently grabbing his hands in an attempt to guide him into a more comfortable position.

“Same nightmare as always, I’m assuming.” Your voice was quiet, solemn almost. Your hands were delicate when they traced over his, and you wiped at his cheeks with your thumbs. He made no effort to speak, nor did his eyes speak for him. God it was frightening to see him this lifeless, as if he’d been possessed. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, I was asleep,” You paused your sentiment to brush some stray, wild hair away from his face. “I was dreaming of us actually, at the windblume festival. It’s still really early, but I’m excited to go today.” As you mused more and more about your dream, about how excited you were to dance with him amidst the city and pick flowers for him, he seemed to relax a bit more. 

“Mm…” He started to nod along with your words, blinking for the first time in several minutes. His lips curled into a small scowl, and life slowly returned to his face. He still remained silent and still, but now at least he was with you. “Yes, yes, I know you’ll have to leave early to take care of the tavern. I’m sure it gets busy around this time of year.” A small huff escaped his lips, the closest you’d get to a laugh, and you smiled widely. “I hope you’re feeling a bit better now, my love.” You felt his pinky twitch against your hand, interlocking with yours and you rested his head against your chest with your head resting atop his. 

“I’m happy to hear it.” Blowing a tuft of scarlet hair away from your face, still loosely wrapped in its protective night style, you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head and relished in the way he sleepily relaxed against you. “I’ll see you in the morning, Diluc. Sweet dreams.”

It wasn’t long before you drifted back to sleep yourself despite the uncomfortable position, but as your eyelids fluttered shut, you caught sight of the way his pinky still locked with yours and smiled ever so softly.

𝗪𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿 '𝗞𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗸𝘂𝘇𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶'

✧ Wanderer is a vessel. He compares himself to a puppet but really, he’s most similar to a bottle. One sealed shut that contains a murky liquid full of dark mud and slime. It looks ready to burst, the glass expanded and the cap barely holding on. Wanderer is a bottle, one that contains memories he wishes to forget and trauma he’ll never forget. He was never taught how to express his pains despite having so many of them, and instead bottles things up until they explode in the form of meltdowns, rage, violence, and even crying to the point of not being able to taste or smell for hours. This is rare though, usually he finds these things to be pathetic and opts to keep things locked within the heart he wishes he had.

✧ Nightmares aren’t new to him. He’s slept through many nights that leave him with tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes reddened from the buried pain that shows through when he’s most vulnerable. This is why he prefers to sleep alone. After convincing himself being caught crying in his sleep was the reason for his abandonment, he’s never let anyone see him show weakness like that again. He’ll sleep on the couch or anywhere you can’t see him- but you catch him one night. His usually blank face is scrunched up and pained, the moonlight reflecting off glittery tears that streak down his skin. You watch his hands shake as he mumbles soft pleas and curses through bitten lips.

✧ You comfort him while he sleeps, knowing full well he doesn’t even want you seeing him like this yet. Not that it offends you, something he’s extremely grateful for. You mumble sweet words in his ear, wiping his tears gently so as to not wake him. You take his trembling hands in yours, sweeping your fingers along his knuckles. You stay like this for gods knows how long, your knees have begun to ache and sleep pulls at your eyelids. But, as his fingers twitch and then curl around your own, you realize it was worth it. He still weeps, but he smiles as he does. And slowly do you drift off with your head rested against the couch, and his hand in yours.

- ✧ -

Living in the peaceful city of Sumeru usually means nights of tranquility and quiet dreams, with only the sound of the wind to disturb you occasionally. However, you found yourself harshly awoken by a crash downstairs. At first, you shrugged it off. ‘Maybe it was the cat.’ Was your first thought, your eyelids slowly fluttered shut only to be practically ripped open at the realization-- 

“We don’t own a cat.”

Rushing down the steps, you found yourself walking ever quieter so as to not disturb your lover who always slept on the couch. It was strange, you’d admit, but you respected it. The way he looked at you when he feebly requested to sleep on the couch reminded you of a kicked puppy, ashamed and nervous before you. And so, you let it slide. Sleeping in a cold bed as you cuddled a pillow rather than your boyfriend, but it was worth it to see him in the mornings. However, as you stare at him laying face down on the floor beside the couch he called his bed, you begin to understand his hesitation.

He’s still asleep, miraculously. But his skin, ever pale and cold, collects tears on his cheeks like morning dew on petals and leaves. You kneel down slowly, watching as his hands grip the blanket that now half lay over his curled up body. Small mumbles escape his lips, though incomprehensible you made out small pleas and curses-- curses mostly. His face is scrunched up in a mixture of pain and confusion, almost betrayal- and the way his hands guard his body even in slumber breaks your heart. You gently brush a hand over his hair that clings to the sweat on his forehead. “I’m sorry I never noticed.” He stiffens, eyes scrunching at the touch and he sniffles. Rather than lifting him back onto the couch, you opt to simply take his pillow and tuck it back beneath his head.

There’s plenty to talk about, but it can wait till the morning. You carefully move his arm, which quivers under your hold, and move it out to the side. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.” Despite not knowing if he can hear it, you whisper kind words into his ear while resting your head atop his arm. Your eyes feel heavy, but his burden feels lighter and that’s all that matters to you. Though, as you drift off, you notice his hand move to your cheek, where he brushes his knuckles over your skin so lightly you barely notice.

And then, as you turn over to look at him, you notice the faintest smile on those trembling lips.

𝗦𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝗛𝗲𝗶𝘇𝗼𝘂

✧ Heizou isn’t someone people suspect to be so…sad. They see his suave jokes, the glimmer in his eye when his suspicions prove correct, or the way his shoulders slump and lip juts out when the trail goes cold. They see a troublemaker, someone rowdy and annoying. Even his own brother sees a nuisance. Truthfully, you did as well at one point. When he picked up a piece of trash you accidentally dropped and then chided you on the “dangers of littering.” Though while being witty and fun is something he enjoys, a good chunk of it is a front. A detective is excellent at uncovering lies, but he’s also good at creating them.

✧ You know about his past, about his friend, but it never seemed to bother him as much as it really did. Heizou was a man angry at the world. He was the forefront of protests and the face of right vs wrong, he wasn’t afraid to scream and shout and the world that cursed the people that loved it. However, someone as bold and brash as this becomes overwhelmed. Sometimes the crushing realization that he can’t fix everything becomes too much. When he rests, he sees only the dagger through his friend's heart. He sees the fates of others just like his friend, people who were wronged as a result of pride and greed. One example of this was after a nightmare became too much, and he practically shot out of bed with eyes wide and hands clammy.

✧ You comfort him through words at first, something he’s very good at. But you soon realize because he’s overwhelmed and exhausted, he’s overanalyzing everything you say. Looking for hidden meanings and things to distrust. With a small, saddened sigh, you simply rest his head on your shoulder and then does he break. He gripes about how tired he is, how hard he works sometimes just to realize the world is still the same as before. And you listen earnestly, resting your cheek atop his head while rubbing circles into his back. At some point, you feel him weakly smile against your shoulder. He’s still sleepy, you note, and a breathy whisper catches your ear as he drifts off:

- ✧  - 

“It really is you and me against the world.” He mutters, and you look up from where you were 

”But we'll never be enough.”

Those barely audible words roll around your head like marbles, your eyes drifting off into the dark ceiling above you as your hand runs through magenta locks of hair. Just moments ago, that same hair was brushing against your nose as he cried against your shoulder. As your shoulder moves against your shirt, you can feel his tears still sticking to your skin, and you frown at the memory of those lovely eyes so sad as they looked up at you. Asking you why, why the world hated people so. And gods, you wish you had an answer. “No matter what I do, it’s never enough.” You wanted to deny it, but truly, nothing anyone did would matter in the end. However, you reassured him: 

“It’s enough for me. And,” You brush a few strands of messy hair away from his face, “All the other people who you helped thought the same too. They may not remember you in the future, but in that moment? You made things so much better. Or even just a bit better.” He scoffed lightly, but you saw a hint of a smile tug at his lips that wobbled with every breath. Heizou sighed and flopped limply against your chest, to which you let out a breathless laugh. His hand found yours, and his thumb caressed your skin sweetly. 

“You could’ve stopped with the first sentence, y’know.” He grinned mischievously, though it looked rather foolish seeing as he was about to burst into tears again. “Knowing I’m enough for you means a lot.” A sharp breath, a shaky exhale, and one heavy sniff later, he looked back up at you. “But why can’t we be enough for everyone else? No matter what I do, no matter what you do, there will always be more problems than solutions.” With every word that escaped the confines of his rapidly closing throat, he spoke faster. And faster. And faster, and faster, and fastandfasteranfast--

“HEIZOU!” He jolted, wide awake at your completely bewildered expression. “I have no clue what you’re saying, love, slow down.” Your hand found his cheek, and you guided him through a few slower breaths. He sighed, suddenly quiet in your arms. Tears dripped from tired eyes to welcoming arms and he cried freely where he felt safe to do so.

“I’m just tired.” And it showed. In the eyebags that grew dark enough to mask his moles, in the way he spaced out more than he spoke, in the way he poured salt in his coffee instead of sugar and then forgot to clean up when he spit it everywhere. You let out a quiet ‘I know, love.’, and your free hand moved to his hair where it stayed from then, to now. To now, where he rested peacefully on your chest. To now, where his hand still refused to let go of yours.

To now, where you were left wondering if he could fix the world in his dreams, because here?

we’ll never be enough.

[delicatenightfury]

Hard Truths

2022 Month of Writing: Day 18

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, platonic!John Winchester x reader

Prompt:

Word Count: 1,180

Author's Note: please don't steal my work! you can choose to respond to the prompt as well, but don't steal my work

“So, you’re Dean’s fiance.”

y/n glanced over her shoulder. John Winchester was standing at the entrance of the room, observing her as she looked through case files and research. It was so weird having him around. He had been dead for nearly thirteen years. She had known him briefly before he had died, having been one or two hunts with the Winchester boys when they interacted with their dad.

Now, the brothers were out on a grocery run to get ingredients for Mary’s casserole. That left y/n alone in the bunker with their parents. Both of them. Alive and well. To say it was a little awkward was probably an understatement.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I, uh, noticed the ring earlier. When did he propose?”

“He asked about two years ago. Being a hunter doesn’t really allow a lot of room for financial stability, so he didn’t officially get the ring until recently.”

John smiled a little.

“Nice to know he’s finally settling down.”

y/n couldn’t help but nod.

“I never thought it would happen. We’ve both seen what hunting does to people, especially married couples. But I’m glad he finally asked.”

“So when did you start hunting with them?”

“About ten, eleven years ago. It started as an occasional thing, maybe the same hunt every couple of weeks or months, before it started becoming more frequent. Sam was the one that invited me to stay.” She paused and sat back in her chair, casting a glance toward John. “I actually went on two hunts with you and the boys.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“First one I was hunting a demon in Chicago before Dean and Sam showed up. Turned out to be a demon controlling a group of Daeva. Next hunt was weeks later. We had just wrapped up one when they heard from a friend of yours. You were on the same job, which ended up also being a vampire hunt.”

John took a moment to observe her posture, and replayed her words in his mind.

“I take it that things didn’t go smoothly?”

“I mean, we got thrown around a lot.”

“I meant between the two of us.”

y/n shook her head, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

“No, smooth is probably the last word I’d use to describe it. We were civilized, but I definitely had my opinions.” She glanced at him, surprised to see that he seemed to be expecting more. “What?”

“What were your thoughts?”

“On you? You want me to tell you what my first thoughts about you were?”

He shrugged.

“Only if you’re willing.”

She looked at him for several moments, debating whether or not to actually tell him her thoughts.

“Well,” she started. She paused to give John room to back out, but he only looked at her expectantly. “To put it simply, I thought you were a dick.”

John ducked his head with a small smile. It made y/n relax a little.

“That right?”

“Oh yeah. You were so determined to kill the thing that got Mary, I could see it in your eyes when you talked about it. And I knew that that drive was what made you a good hunter. But I also saw the effect it had on your sons. The minute they saw you, their posture and personality changed. They looked more like soldiers. And after you left the first time, I could see how desperately they wanted to help you.

“Then when you came around the second time, you were still so sure to keep them in the dark. You claimed to be protecting them, yet you let them travel all across the country hunting monsters and saving people. God, I almost snapped at you during that hunt.”

y/n bowed her head and rubbed her forehead. She could picture the arguments she heard between Sam and John. She remembered how much she wanted to butt in and snap back, maybe even punch him. But it hadn’t been her place. She had stayed as far removed as she could during those moments.

“You turned your war into theirs,” she eventually continued. “So much so that they never really knew anything other than hunting. They had to grow up too quickly. Dean at least tried to make sure that Sam had a decent childhood. But Dean had to grow up too fast because you told him that it was his responsibility to watch over Sam and to keep him safe. He had to play mother and father to his little brother because you were too busy hunting. And I get that that’s the hunter’s life, but you dropped the ball on your responsibilities as a father.

“Believe me, I understand what it means to be a hunter and to have that drive to take out the darkness in the world. But there were two little beacons of light just waiting to shine, and they never did except for each other. You had a hand in making them the hunters they are, John, but not a lot in making them the men they’ve become. You let other people do that for you.”

She finally cast a glance at John. She expected him to be angry, annoyed, questioning who she was to judge his parenting. What she hadn’t been expecting was John staring right at her, nodding his head slightly with tears in his eyes.

“You’re not wrong,” he said. “I know I messed up and dropped the ball when it came to the two of them.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t love them, John,” y/n said. “I know you did. That’s clear as day to me with you being here. And you kept them safe when it mattered. You probably did the best you could, raising two boys on your own. But I’ve seen how tired the two of them get sometimes.”

John sighed and ran his hand over his head, sinking into a nearby chair.

“I never wanted for them to continue to live this life. Sam almost got out, going to college and everything. I heard Dean almost did too.”

“They’ve both tried. Almost succeeded too. But life just kind of dragged them back in.”

John nodded. He lifted his head to smile slightly at her.

“Seems like Dean’s trying to settle down again though.” The two glanced down at her ring and smiled. “Have you talked about what you’ll do?”

“We’re eventually going to try and step away. Maybe find a place close to the Bunker, find normal jobs. We might pick up a hunt every now and then, depending on what it is and the distance. But any choice that relates to hunting, we’ve agreed to talk about. We plan on talking Sam into taking a step back too.”

John smiled again, reaching over to pat his hand on her shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze

“Dean’s a lucky guy,” he said. You’re gonna make a hell of a Winchester.”

y/n blushed. She hadn’t expected that response. She smiled at him.

“I’m certainly gonna try my best.”

A/N: I was expecting there to be more Dean in this. Oops!

[detectivenyx]

I'm glad that there are a lot instaronpas out there as they provide fangan content at a faster pace (mainly because they are essentially comic strips rather than animated videos or an entire fangame). However, every time I've read one, they have a decent daily life portion and interesting characters but then have uninteresting/underdeveloped murder mysteries that take 20-30 minutes to solve compared to video game/video series fanganronpas or danganronpa itself. There could be execeptions though.

i get why the murder mysteries are underdeveloped - dialogue between characters happens in every story. since they do not hinge on a mystery, people replay these often. but the murder mysteries are seen as unreplayable, since you already know the answers. a second playthrough can cement which trials are good (a 2nd playthrough was what determined trial 4 of sdr2 was a steaming pile of garbage), but rarely is a reason seen to go back. people also erroneously assume a murder is easy to write. they're very difficult, only outclassed in complexity to write by maybe massive sprawling conspiracy mysteries. beginning writers toss themselves into the deep end by going 'i can definitely write a Danganronpa'. even earlier games tended to be more on the subdued side with their mysteries (trial 1 of the first game takes about an hour to complete).

with that said, it doesn't make the experience any better for the reader. i feel like there shouldn't be any shame when saying a mystery sucked, even in a fan project. i don't like the idea that nothing fanmade can be criticised, that only praise is acceptable. it shouldn't be up to the standards of the canon games, but some of these fan projects present really poorly thought out ideas with offensive implications (eg, a fangan by a singlet where someone's SpLiT pErSoNaLiTy kills someone and the SpLiT pErSoNaLiTy is the reason why), and that should be criticised without some overly sensitive cranberry tart throwing up the fanmade project defense.

even when it's not offensive, fangans tend to get... very formulaic with their mysteries, and use the oversimplified jokes as an actual blueprint on how to structure their trial with no variation whatsoever. determine how victim died, oh everyone but Pippi Longstocking has an alibi - BUT PIPPI LONGSTOCKING WAS ACCUSED IN THE 'RED HERRING' PHASE OF THE TRIAL SO SOMEONE'S ALIBI IS FALSE, it turns out Grumpy Bear's alibi was only a technicality, and because Grumpy Bear got accused in the Real Culprit Phase™ of the trial, he is the legit culprit. and oftentimes, because they're working off this blueprint rather than the logical outcome of a mystery, it can feel very stale - like they came up with a body discovery first (not 'who died', but the pretty screaming picture of their corpse), then the culprit, and the 'how he got that way' comes dead last, when it should be the other way around when writing mystery. you write a mystery backwards - you can't ever read it as a mystery, so you need to let go of that illusion of being able to experience the story the way your readers do.

i did a video on the topic a while ago, but even if someone thinks i'm a dick who doesn't know what they're talking about (the 'dick' part is fair but the 'doesn't know what she's talking about' bit is Not), they can easily google or search up how to write murder mysteries and get some tips and pointers. hell, they don't even have to travel out of the DR related videos since Wince Media also made a video on the topic.

[laedback-taurus]

Hidden Feelings

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.4k A/n: Proof read but may have missed a few things as i had to use a different computer and it threw me off a bit. Thank you so much for over 900 notes on my last story, I’m so glad it's being enjoyed!

Request: (Anon) Hi love, hope you’re having a great day! Just dropping by with a request if you’re taking any. Could we get one where reader is a close friend of the family and has a little boy with her deceased fiancé (maybe died in the war?) tommy in particular is close with the 2 (esp reader ;) lol) and one day her son calls him dad in front of everyone? Do what you will with this lol

After spending years of trying to hide your feelings for Tommy Shelby, your son decides to make the move for you and kickstart your relationship.

Your family had been close friends and allies of the Shelby’s since long before you or the Shelby children were born. You had grown up with the Shelby’s but you had always been closer with the second born, Tommy. Everyone thought you would be closest with Ada considering she was the only Shelby daughter and you were close with her but for some reason you were drawn to Thomas Shelby. As you grew into a woman you began to discover more serious feelings for Tommy, feelings of love and admiration but you never decided to act on them. Your families were close and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin the relationship of you were hurt over rejection, you know your father would pull away from the Shelbys if one of them hurt you. You decided to love him from afar, no matter how much it pained you.

After years of loving only Tommy you decided that if you were not going to act on your feelings then it was time to try and move on. You met a kind and wealthy man, one who loved and adored you, he was sweet and everything a woman could ever want but you still could not get Tommy Shelby out of you heart. You stayed with this man however and get guilty everyday of your relationship, he gave you all of himself but there was a small portion of you that you just couldn’t give him, a small portion that belonged to a blur eyed gangster. You knew it was wrong to let this sweet man love you but he was safe and that was what you needed. A few years later that same sweet and kind man asked you to be his wife, with a smile on your face and guilt in your heart, you said yes.

“He did what?” Ada asked, in complete shock, she was sitting on the couch opposite you in your sitting room.

“He asked me to marry him” You replied quietly, Ada paused for a moment.

“You did what?!” She asked, even more bewildered as she replayed your previous conversation in her head.

“I said yes” You confessed, looking down at the shiny ring on your finger, it was a perfect fit yet it felt conformably tight.

“Why would you do that? You love mother man Y/n, you love my brother, that not fair to James” Your heartache at the sound of his name.

“I do love him Ada” You assured because you did.

“Just not as much” Ada added, you nodded slowly.

“Tommy is off limits Ada, I can't have him and even if I could, he wouldn’t want me so what else am I supposed to do” you said, exacerbated.

“Tommy is not off-limits Y/n and he would want to you, I believe he does” You scoffed at that but she continues “You are the only person that can make his smile reach his eyes, ever since I can remember when you’re around, there's a smile on his face, he cares about you and you need to tell him before you end up hurting James further”

“I can’t” you sighed.

“Yes, you can” She encouraged.

“I’m pregnant” You smoke quietly, your eyes glassing with tears “I can't leave James because I’m carrying his child”

“Oh Y/n” she sighed as she got up and came to sit next to you “It’ll be okay” she reassured.

It had been two years since the day you announced you were pregnant; your son Henry was one and a half and he was the sweetest little boy. You and James still hadn’t married, every time you decided on a date you just couldn’t do it, so you kept postponing it until one event put it on hold all together, the war. James had been drafted along with the Shelby brothers and you hated the fact that you were more worried for Tommy’s safety.

“Are you sure you don’t just want to just get married this afternoon? It would be just us a quick but at least we would be married” You suggested, watching your fiancé finish packing his bag.

“No, my sweet, when we get married, we are doing it properly, you’re getting the wedding you deserve” He declared with a smile, you didn’t think you deserved a big wedding at all.

“But what if you don’t come back?” You knew it was harsh but you had face reality, he could die out there.

“I will come back Y/n, I will come back to you and Henry and we’ll live out the rest of our lives as a happy family, okay?” He looked at you with a playfully stern look.

“Okay honey” You surrendered, getting up to help him fix the tie of his uniform.

“I will be back” He promised.

You were sitting at your kitchen table after the news had been delivered, your son was at your mother's house and you were grateful for that because he didn’t need to see his mother in such a state. You were seat at your table, your head in your hands as you sobbed over a letter, a letter that informed you that your fiancé was dead. How were you going to tell Henry? Would he understand? Could you raise him on your own? A million questions were running through your head but one always stood at the front, was Tommy, okay?

Tommy had been home for a few months now, he was a changed man but they all were, no man that left all those years ago came home. He may have changed but his care for you didn’t, the first place he went when he arrived home was to you.

“I heard about James” he started “I’m so sorry Y/n” the look in his eyes told you that he was being genuine.

“I don't know what I’m going to do Tommy” you confessed. The two of you were sitting in your sitting room, sharing a couch, Tommy was sitting on a slight angle she he could talk to you front on.

“It will be alright, you’ve got us” you looked up at him, his eyes had darkened significantly, the shine was left behind in the tunnels. “You’ve got me”

“How am I going to raise Henry on my own? He was his dads shadow”

“You’re not on your own Y/n, you’ve got support” you watched to of the corner of your eye as. Tommy’s hand gently moved towards yours but before he could do anything you heard a small voice from the doorway.

“Mama?” Your now five-year-old called out, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

“Hey sweetheart, why are you out of bed?” You asked as you got up and approached him.

“I had a bad dream” He confessed in a small voice, Tommy shuffled slightly on the couch behind you, he knew very well what the young boy was going through.

“Well let's get you back to bed a we’ll chase the bad dreams away, okay?” You suggested softly.

“No, daddy used to do that, only he could do it” You could the tears starting to form in your boys' eyes and it broke your heart, you were too busy trying to figure out what to say that you didn’t notice Tommy approaching you both.

“I get nightmare too you know” He confessed as he knelt to meet your son's eye, his confession shocked you for a moment.

“You do?” Henry sniffled

“I do, I get them every night”

“How do you make them stop?” Henry asked, Tommy looked up at you for a moment before turning his attention back to your boy.

“I think about your mother” now that, you weren’t expecting. Tommy thought of you when he had bad dreams?

“About mama?” You could tell that Henry didn’t quite believe it.

“Your mother is very dear to me Henry, so when I think of her, it reminds me of home, I feel safe because I feel safe with her” You wanted to cry, the man that you have never been able to get over just told your son that he feels safe with you.

“Maybe I’ll try that then, mama is home, shell keep me safe from the bad dreams”

“She will, so how about we get you into bed now aye?” Tommy asked, standing up straight again.

“Could you carry me up?” Henry asked with hopeful eyes.

“Oh, Henry don't ask that of Tomm- “You were cut off by Tommy looking at you.

“I don’t mind” He smiled before scooping Henry up and walking him to his room. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your little boy had nuzzled his head into Tommy’s neck, you had watch him do it his father many times before but it never gave you the butterflies you had now.

After that night Tommy came around a lot and you and Henry sent a lot of time at the shop, you would help where you could and Henry would spend the day bothering John and Arthur which Tommy found quite amusing. You had noticed lately that Tommy’s gaze held on you for longer amounts of time, he would take every opportunity to brush his hand with yours and place his hand on the small of you back while standing beside you and Tommy had noticed that you had stopped wearing your engagement ring. He couldn't lie to himself and say that he wasn’t falling for you, deep down he always had loved you but after being at war and living with the thought of never seeing you again, he decided he needed to act, he knew you had loved another and had a child, but he didn't care and he was quite fond of your boy, he was a charming young kid.

It was a normal day at the shop, everyone was finishing up for the evening before heading to the garrison, you didn’t go often but the nights that you did, you would drop Henry off at your parents, the adored him so they didn’t mind. Tonight, was one of these nights where you had planned for your parents to watch Henry. Tommy had just finished for the day and left his office, finding his family and you waiting in the shop.

“Right Tommy, we off?" Arthur asked, ready for a dink after a long day.

“In a minute Arthur” Tommy answered as he approached you, placing his hand on the small of you back like he now always did “Are you coming tonight?” He asked you.

“I am, I just have to drop Henry off at my parents” he told him.

“No, I don’t want to go to granny and gramps” Your son huffed in annoyance.

“It’s just for tonight, Henry, they really want to see you” You reassured him, but he was still upset.

“No!” He cried “I don’t want to”

“Henry” Tommy warned, you had learned that Henry would listen to him when he put a stern voice on.

“I don’t want to daddy” in that moment you felt sick, your son had just called Tommy his father in front of the other Shelby’s and you were mortified. You didn’t waste any time, you didn’t want to see their reactions, you just scooped Henry up and raced out of the shop, you heard Tommy call after you but you couldn’t face him.

Not long after you arrived home, you put Henry to bed, you would talk to him about it all in the morning, right now you just wanted him to sleep. Just as you shuttle door to his bedroom, a soft knock fell upon your front door. You sighed, knowing it was going to be Tommy. You paused at the door for a more t before opening it and stepping aside so he could come in and he did, he went straight to your sitting room and you shut the door and followed him. He was attending int her middle of the room before he turned to face you.

“I’m so sorry Tommy” you started.

“If he wants to call me that he can” Tommy said suddenly.

“What?” You asked shocked.

“If you want him to call me that he can, if you want me to be a father to him then I want to, I want to be with you and it took me facing death to realise that. I thought of you every day, it is the only thing that got me through and I know you loved James and I am not trying to be him or replace him but I want the chance to love you Y/n, I have wanted the chance since I was a boy but I have always been too afraid” He confessed.

“Tommy” You said as you approached him, stopping when you were just in front of him “You have always had the chance, I have always loved but I have never felt I could love you. I loved James but I never love him the way I do you, when you touch me, I forget how to breathe. You have the chance Tommy, take it” He didn’t need to hear anything else; he cupped your cheeks in his hands and leant down, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. He pulled away for a moment and looked into your eyes and you noticed that the shine in them was back. This time, you grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him down into another kiss, this one was filled with years of hidden feelings and admiration, this one was to make up for lost time.

“So, he is my daddy now” a small voice from the doorway called out once again, causing the two of you to pull away and laugh slightly.

“If you’ll give me the chance Henry” Tommy smiled, Henry smiled right back at him.

“Yeah, you make mama happy” and with that, you had your five-year old's approval.

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

happy 200! i’m so glad to see your blog grow, it’s one of my favorites and i adore all your writing. i’ve never cried so much and i love the kind of unsettling feeling you write in your fics, it’s perfect in the category of yandere and dark content. in particular, i loved your drabble about shigaraki mourning over a dead reader and i’ve reread that one too many times to count haha! as for asks for headcannons and drabbles, it would be amazing to see that with bully!eren especially since he was such an awful person to the reader. i’d love to see him suffer honestly, but if you don’t want to write it, that’s completely fine! once again, i’m so proud of you for hitting 200! that’s such a huge milestone and hopefully, there will be many more in the future! :)

SYNOPSIS: bully!Eren has to navigate the world without you.

Pairing: Bully!Eren x Fem!Reader

A/N: I can't even explain in words how much I CHEESED at this message like my grin was ear to ear. can't explain how many times I read this. It singlehandedly made my day anon, and to repay you for my happiness....here is some angst. this is a slightly different route than the shiggy one but I hope it still suits you <3

TW: mentions of death, past dubcon/noncon, mentions of trauma, bullying, alcohol addiction, drunk driving, abusive behavior, revenge porn, nonconsensual photography/videography, mentions of infidelity, angst, so much of angst, violent behavior

WC: 2.5k

It's not like Eren had been doing a lot of soul-searching. He's not delusional enough to label his half-assed epiphany of "maybe I'm a shitty person" as soul searching.

It's just the conversation with his very sick mother burned holes through the back of his mind. Carla had asked about you and why you don't come by the house anymore. How she missed baking with you in the kitchen, and how you sweetly smiled whenever you would see soft creamy peaks form in the meringue.

Eren felt like he was swallowing needles as he assured his mother with false truths, that nothing was going on and distance between childhood friends is natural, and if it means so much--ok ok he'll bring you over.

He stays until he sees her chest slowly rising and falling into a gentle asleep. He touches the tip of his ears, unsurprised by how hot it was.

Eren, when you tell a lie, the tips of your ears turn red.

You're not at school the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

Guilt is not an emotion he feels often but the events of the past weekend replay in his mind. It was just a dumb party that Floch threw, and he was surprised to find you cornered by a trio of thee dunderheads. Like a distorted fairytale, he swept you away from the bad guys like a knight in shining armor, to only shove you in an empty room and demand compensation for playing hero.

Fuck, with that big mouth, you would think that you'd know how to suck cock.

Use your tongue stupid slut. If you use teeth, I'll shove this dick in your ass without any prep.

No, I don't care, you're taking all of it.

There's a video on his camera roll. How could he not record it? You're sobbing, mascara running down your cheeks, looking so beautiful and ruined with jizz smeared at the corner of your mouth. He was brutally fucking your mouth, making you take all of his length.

Breathe through your nose dumb whore. Or else you're gonna run out of air.

You were pleading with whatever garbled sounds you were constricted into producing.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren is conflicted with muting the video because he can't stand to hear himself like that. But he didn't want to miss out on your pitiful whines.

He remembers the distraught expression on your face when he was finally done with you. He tucked himself inside, and sneered, "I've got a girl coming here. Get lost." You looked so fucking distraught. Why? All he did was make you suck his dick. He didn't even fuck you.

He should have. Eren thinks grimly when he stares at your empty desk on the first day you didn't show up to school. He's gotten off to the video more than enough times than he can count over the weekend, and he was aching to see your pretty face twisted into a terrorized expression when he flipped up your skirt to grope your ass.

Kindly, Eren decides he'd allow you to have a rest day. But the second day, Eren pays a visit to your house finding it dark and locked, like no one was home and hadn't been there for a while.

On the third day, you're declared missing.

Your incompetent workaholic mother who finally came home and decided to give a damn reported you missing to the authorities who had scratched their heads because as far as they knew, the pivotal 72 hours were up.

Paradis was surrounded by forests. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking it. If you got lost in there, chances are you wouldn't make it out.

Eren wasn't always this admired and fawned over. He had his fair share of behavioral issues that frightened people (not you though, not then at least, not when you were children, and you still came back every day to play).

But when he channeled that anger into sports, there was somewhat of a star in the making, especially for some small-town boy. He was becoming extremely popular, and that's nice and all, but at the end of the day, he has a mother whose health was taking a sharp decline. He was constantly under stress, stress that he took out on you.

Where did his favorite stress-ball go?

It's all fucking surreal. Having detectives in the school. Not that there were many students to question (because christ, did you even have any friends after Eren turned everyone against you?).

Eren was questioned. He can't help but mirthfully chuckle. Maybe this was your grand plan, maybe you were able to finally sort out a mountain of evidence against him. If you were going to fuck him over, didn't you want to see it happen with your own two eyes?

The dark-haired boy wishes that was true. If you had gotten your revenge, would you be here? No, revenge isn't the right word. If you got any justice for what he made you suffer, would you come back?

Hi, I'm Detective Hange. I would like to ask you some questions today. You're Eren Yeager, right?

Yes, that's me.

How do you know ___?

We were childhood friends. We're uh, we're not as close anymore.

When was the last time you saw her?

Friday night at Floch's party-

-Floch Forster right? There were a number of kids there from your school.

Yeah. It was a big party. She uh, doesn't usually come to parties but she was there that night.

You were the last person to be seen with her. Other kids have said that they saw you and her entering a room together, and then only her leaving the said room.

[Sigh] Yeah we sorta...hooked up.

I thought you said you guys weren't close anymore.

You can be not close to someone and still hook up with them.

But you guys were close once right?

Yeah. Once.

The dark-haired boy asks if he was under any suspicion. The detective waves their hand in a dismissive gesture, “If her diary tells us anything, it’s only that she really liked you.”

Were detectives even allowed to divulge that sort of information? Eren doesn’t know but the stray detail that they offered off-handedly made him feel like he was swallowing needles.

At that point, Eren honestly still doesn't believe you're gone. You had a habit of running away, even when you were little kids, but you always came back.

Still, he participates in the search parties with a renewed vigor, even going alone in the forest with a flashlight on most nights.

And he's just so fucking tired. The darkest crevice of his mind almost wishes you were dead because this ignorance was just agony. Almost. Because he still clings to the feeling that one day, he’ll stroll into class and find you in your seat in the back of the class, looking out the window like some cliche shojo manga protagonist.

There are folders and folders on his phone. Albums. The most recent one is dedicated to your crying face as you were choking on his dick. Earlier albums are composed of creepshots of your panties, of that obscene o-face, of your skirt flipped up and your ass cheeks, pictures of your cleavage, videos of you thrashing as he dunked your head into toilets like a villainous middle school bully.

Pictures of your neck covered in hickeys, your naked breasts, ass cheeks striped with red after getting spanked, your leaking cunt, just endless and endless media dedicated to pieces and pieces of your body like you were never a whole person.

The earliest ones though tell a different tale, from off-guards to your drooling face as you napped in the middle of the day.

He has a favorite picture. Your eyes are watery from the cold, snowflakes stuck between lashes, nose and cheeks flushed red, and you're smiling. Smiling right to the camera. Right at him.

"Eren, are you taking a picture?" You asked, bouncing in place, giddy that it was finally snowing.

"Not of you, shut up. Get out of the way." His voice is gruff but not harsh.

You laughed and jumped into frame anyway, and the bright streetlamp behind you made you seem like you were wearing a halo.

He wishes he had more pictures of you being...yourself. Because now your crying face displayed over countless pixels haunt him. But like a fucking degenerate, he still jerks off to all the nudes he coerced from you. Sometimes he cries when he's jerking off which is probably the most pathetic thing he's ever done. This is what you've reduced him to.

He hates the sound of his own voice.

Breathe through your fucking nose. This is for your sake. Otherwise, I don't mind face fucking your lifeless body. You'd be more useful that way anyways.

Eren goes through the motions of life without really feeling like he's in the moment. Seasons change and time flies. His mother dies, and his withdrawn father dies a year later. He proposes to Mikasa because it's something he was always supposed to do. She loves him unconditionally, so even when he doesn't put any effort into the relationship but proposes, she says yes hoping he'll change and be a good husband.

He doesn't go to his parents' funerals because they're already dead. What's the point. He doesn't visit the candlelight vigils in your honor either. After tearing his ACL again and a somewhat traumatic injury, he kisses his pro-football career goodbye. To be totally honest, he's relieved. Because he had gotten quite bored, and maybe he was looking for excuses to quit the entire time. It's not like you'd be cheering on the bleachers anyways.

Mikasa has an affair, more out of a desire to see her fiancé feel something for her as opposed to any burning lust. But when she asks him if he's ever cared at all, with tears springing out of her eyes, he's just calmly drinking his fifth of whisky.

The dark-haired man doesn't even look up, "Let's break up."

"Is this about her, huh? Fucking get over it already Eren. She's GONE. And you have some big fucking audacity moping about her death like you weren't making her cry in the bathroom stalls every fucking day you piece of shit."

"Get out."

"You know what, I bet she killed herse-"

SMASH

The dark-haired woman doesn't finish her rant because the whiskey bottle smashes on the wall next to her head, sending glass everywhere and staining the carpet amber. She's unharmed, knowing it wasn't Eren's intention to hit her but Jesus Christ, what a monster.

She packs her bags and leaves the town like she should have a long time ago. All her friends had left years before and she stayed behind because that's where Eren was. She thanks her lucky stars that they didn't marry.

It's funny because he had always imagined himself being the first to move out of their small town, but he's the one staying. He can't leave this place. feels too tethered to ever leave. Every diner and liquor store is saturated with memories of you. He remembers buying cigarettes and exhaling the smoke to your face to piss you off in empty parking lots.

Maybe he stays in case you'll come back.

Eren's days consist of alcohol-fueled hazes. He doesn't know how his liver is still functioning. He doesn't know he's still alive after crashing his car into a tree when he was drunk out of his mind. He was on his way to get some more vodka.

He barely recognizes himself in the mirror anymore, not that he looks at himself much. His hair is long, nestled around his shoulder because he couldn't be bothered to cut it, dark circles under viridian eyes, and a perpetual stubble on his jaw.

His parents had left quite a sizable inheritance so there's no need to work but he's good with his hands. Likes crafting up birdhouses and cabinets, and occasionally does odd jobs around the neighborhood, never charging the elderly.

He's under the sink, tinkering with a wrench against the pipes when he hears the old lady coo at him.

"We're so lucky to have you Eren. I'm surprised a handsome young man like yourself doesn't have a special lady. The girls must be lining up at your door!"

The dark-haired man winces, and offers no comment, knowing that that the older lady was susceptible to long tangents.

"You know, we're getting a new neighbor." Eren grunts as a response. "They're young, I've heard. Isn't that exciting? Oh my, Eren! I think they're gonna be living in the house right next to yours..."

He tunes out the rest of the conversation because doesn't really care. He just hopes his new neighbors are quiet.

It's Sunday noon when obnoxious noises of moving trucks and people wake him up from his deep slumber. Eren's annoyed to wake up despite the fact he's probably been sleeping over 15 hours. He oscillates between getting too much sleep and getting none, his sleeping habits completely dependent on his dreams.

His nightmares are too visceral, visions of your corpse asking him if he'd enjoyed hollowing your soul with his teeth.

His dreams are achingly sweet. You in your prom gown, shining so iridescently like diamonds were sewn into the silk. He's dancing with you, holding you close, and then after you guys go to your favorite diner and gorge on burgers and milkshakes.

There's a peal of distinctly feminine laughter that stirs up Eren's senses. He's so pathetic, was the mere sound of a woman laughing getting him excited?

He sighs. He thinks of the whore he's frequently visited because of her resemblance to you. Hair color, skin color, face shape--with enough alcohol, he could really convince the person beneath him, was you. Maybe it's time to give her a call, but she's gotten so fucking needy and he hated how her voice didn't match yours.

The green-eyed man peers from the lace curtains, irritated by the brats playing on his lawn. A full family next door? Great, just what he needs.

The friendly knock on his door breaks him out of his daze. He contemplates whether he should answer but on the second more muted knock, he lets his feet guide him.

He turns the knob.

And Eren Yeager completely shatters.

Because it's you isn't it? You're the person standing in front of him? He can hear what you're saying but he doesn't really register it, soaking in the cadence of a voice he had long forgotten because all he had were pleading whimpers and frenzied moans stored on his cell.

He's shaking. Is he dreaming? He's dreaming, right? He knows it's you. You're older, far more beautiful than he's ever seen you. You have a different hairstyle, wearing clothes he would have mocked you for, and there's this joyfulness within you that makes you glow.

There's a mess of emotions electrifying in the pits of his stomach from euphoria, anger, and dread. He could feel his skin growing clammy like he was about to vomit at any second.

"Hey, are you all right?"

Doe eyes full of concern peer up at him. He voices out the syllables of your name like a desperate prayer.

You tilt your head to the side, "How do you know my name?"

[itsmeanttobe2002]

I’d been having feelings for you

Vicktor x Reader

Warnings: None, just some general angst and fluff.

The experiment failed again. You don’t know what happened this time, but the subjects kept dying and dying, and you didn’t had an answer.

You needed some time alone, you walked to that big entrance of the pipe where you knew nobody was going to bother you. Once you assured no one was there, you couldn’t contain your tears any longer.

You felt so useless and stupid, but what worried you the most is what the council might say. As your mind started to wander, your thoughts stopped at Viktor. You knew him from the undercity, since you were raised there too. You didn’t want him to find out, you didn’t want your friend to think that you were a failure.

Viktor and you had this one thing in common, thirst for knowledge. You two shared this things since you were kids. Soon enough he was accepted in the academy in Piltover, and with a huge effort you were accepted too.

“I’m interrupting something?” The voice sounded familiar.

“Viktor…, n-no it’s okay” You said cleaning the tears from your face. “How did you find me?” You ask again.

“Nobody knew where you were, and I couldn’t find you in the academy, so I thought you might be here.” He said coming closer to you. The sound of his walking stick growing louder and louder.

“Something happened, right?” He asked calmly. His head tilted to look at you. On the other hand you tried to avoid his gaze.

“the subjects…they all…died. And I don’t know why.” Your voice was low, keeping a tone that prevent you from crying. Somehow if you sit it in a low voice it hurt you less.

“Y/n, dear heart, we’re scientists. This like this happens all the time.”

“I know, but I could have done something, I’ve must done something…”

Viktor looked at you for a few seconds, thinking what to say.

“Maybe there wasn’t something to be done, maybe not just yet.” Viktor replay in his topical tone. You looked up at him for the first time since his there with you.

“I know, but-” He interrupted you. “But what?”

You didn’t answer right away, you took a couple of seconds.

“But I still feel useless…I’m sorry Viktor, you must feel ashamed of being my friend.” Viktor frowned, not being able to believe what you has just said.

“You think I’m ashamed if you?” He put his left hand in your shoulder. “Why would I be ashamed of someone who’s been with me since I remember? Someone who is way cooler than me? Someone I’d been having feelings for the last decade?” He cursed at the last sentence, not being his wish to said that.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to hear a love declaration at this moment…I know there’s a highly chance for you to not seeing me that way, I apologize y/n.”

you turned to face him better, and took his chee k in you hand.

“who said I didn’t see you the same way?” You said. Quickly enough, you smashed your lips with his, not giving him the chance to ask you what you meant.

He responded the kiss. Tenderly lips moving against yours as he caressed your right cheek.

“How long?” He asked.

“Since we were kids.” You said, your lips forming a weak smile.

“Well, I’m pretty glad my confession turns out well.” He pepper your face with little kisses.

“Viktor?” You hugged him.

“Yes?”

“You made my day.”

—————————————————————

Hello there! I hope you liked this little Drabble about our boy Viktor. There’s more in the way for other characters as well!

See you around!✨

[sixeyesgojo]

I’ll Be Your Enemy

Summary: Gojo Satoru is willing to do anything for you. As long as it helps you heal from what haunted your night.

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Word count: 2,019

Content warning: implied but unspecified mental illness, mentions of self-harm (scratching), mentions of character death

A/N: Kind of stumbled upon this masterpiece of a song and I thought it would be ideal for some Gojo HURT. This entire thing takes place after the Cursed Womb Arc, so to say: after Yuji dies.

Song: Be Your Enemy by Taemin ft. Wendy

PREQUEL HERE: Pictures of You

Quickly, quickly. The key was inserted into the keyhole and turned. The door lock clicked faintly, signaling that the door has been unlocked. Satoru made sure to open and close the door softly as he entered the familiar apartment. Putting the spare key into his pocket, he slid out of his shoes. Usually he would have made some big noise to ‘announce his arrival’ but not this time. He left his shoes neatly at the genkan of the residence and slipped into the white slippers that always stood by the wooden door, an extra pair just for him.

23 minutes ago. “Hello?” Satoru had picked up the phone. “Gojo-san! Finally the call went through. I’m glad I am able to reach you now,” the voice on the other end said. “Yo, Ijichi, what’s up?” Satoru greeted. He had been sent to a pretty rural area of Japan to get rid of some pesky curses and the cell phone reception was poor in that place, so it wasn’t surprising that calls didn’t go through at times. In addition to that, some curses that manifested had an electrical ability, which impaired the cell towers at place even more. Almost as if planned. “Gojo-san, I think you need to come back as fast as you can,” the man with glasses on the other end of the line stated calmly. “Why?” was the only thing the white-haired sorcerer said in response. Somehow, he had a strange feeling in his gut. The tone in Ijichi’s voice didn’t do anything to calm this odd feeling either.

“It’s L/N-san. Something horrible happened and I don’t think she is taking it well. I did my best to calm her but I’m at wits’ end too…” Ichiji explained vaguely. Satoru was experiencing a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time - his stomach churned, it felt like his guts were wrenching inside him - at the mention of your name. “Ijichi,” he said in a relatively calm voice. He was lucky his voice wasn’t betraying him by showing what he truly felt in that moment. Satoru’s feet were set in rapid motion. “Stay calm. I need you to explain to me what exactly happened.”

Gojo Satoru might be many things. A tease, a teacher (supposedly), a cruel man, a strong sorcerer, a crazy coach, a walking menace to some, protective, an inspiration to a handful, a venti-sized manchild, idiotic, a sweets maniac, a lifelong student to Yaga, playful, a pillar of the Jujutsu world… but most importantly, he was a caring person. This goes without saying for his students and especially his loved ones. What Ijichi just said on the phone had left his heart stinging in his chest. He was in the kitchen, leaving the bag he brought with him on the table.

“Alright. I will tell you what happened, Gojo-san.” “I am listening.” “I am not sure if you are aware that this happened,” the suit-clad man began, “but one of the missions that was originally assigned to you - a case of utmost priority of a cursed womb - was suddenly taken off of your pile and reassigned…” Satoru’s eyes narrowed underneath the black fabric. The beginning already left a bad taste in his mouth; missions assigned to him were usually first grade or even special grade and he knew all too well that there were nowhere enough first grade, let alone special grade, sorcerers around. So who had it been assigned to? “...to your three first-year students,” Ijichi finished with a sigh. The sickening hotness of rage filled Satoru’s whole body. Already having realized the scenario that must have taken place, he still asked for confirmation, “What grade?” “...Special grade. One casualty.” The picture that you had taken of him, his first years and yourself (so carefully hung up on your wall at home) flashed in front of his inner eye. He clenched his teeth so hard as he wordlessly hung up; it hurt. It hurt so badly.

Such an atrocious inhumane act coated in malice. He was going to kill these dirty-playing bastards. However, that would have to wait until later. Much later. Satoru couldn’t leave you to your own devices, not in this state. The scenario he concluded for himself earlier replayed in his mind several times as he made his way through your completely dark apartment. His heart stung with each beat. It was almost as if someone drove a blade through his chest repeatedly.

When he stood in front of the closed door of your bedroom, he heard soft sobs coming from inside. Should he knock to let you know someone came? He wasn’t sure what to do. He gave the door two soft knocks and entered the room. It was your hunched form on the bed, no doubt. Satoru could not see your face with the way your back was facing him. Slowly he made his way to your bed and crouched down to face you. Your face was swollen and tear-stained, a sight he didn’t see often. His large hand rested on your shoulder and gently rubbed it, a silent question hung in the air.

Finally, you looked at him with your swollen eyes. Almost instantly, your sobs got louder and you reached out for the tall sorcerer. “S-Satoru…” you hiccuped in-between sobs. “Yeah. I’m here, I’m here,” he reassured you and stroked the wet hair out of your puffy face as you threw yourself around him, relentlessly crying into his broad shoulders. The white-haired man enclosed his arms around you but it wasn’t to hug you for comfort.

He scooped your delicate frame up and wrapped a warm blanket around you before leaning your body against the headboard of the bed. He sat next to you on the bed and guided your head onto his shoulders. Your violent sobbing stopped but tears were still flowing freely. 

If there was someone who understood the agony, bitterness and distress someone in this line of work had to face, it was Gojo Satoru. The path of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was painted black and red by trials and tribulations. This was why Satoru was so hell-bent on resetting the world he called his obligation. “If you feel exhausted, just lean on me for a second,” his calm voice sounded through the room. There was no answer from you. Even if there was silence, your feelings reached his heart and he spoke again. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked gently. Let it go with me. It’ll be easier to shake this burden off and share it, he thought. Of course, he would never dare force you. You nuzzled into his shoulder, as if to get even closer physically.

Ultimately, the woman sucked in a breath and with a shaky voice and recounted everything in her point of view. “I-I.. was on a mission when I… got a call from Ijichi. ‘Something wasn’t right’, he said and… t-told me about the cursed womb. As soon as I heard… that they sent y-your students there, I rushed to the location but…”, you hiccuped, “...I was too late… Y-Yuji, he-” You sobbed hysterically into his shoulder. Satoru turned to you to wipe away the tears and snot with a tissue. “Shhh, I’m here, I’m here”, he reassured once again, “I’ll fix it somehow.” It was just as he thought: those damned higher ups.

“H-How? This is not… something… you can f-fix, Satoru… not even you,” you continued bawling into his shoulders. I’ll kill all the higher ups, he thought to himself. “I don’t know but I’ll be damned if I can’t do something to change this detestable, loathsome and bloody world we live in,” his voice seethed with anger but it quickly died down as he re-focused on the main topic at hand, “there has to be something I can do, I’ll even drag out Sukuna myself if I have to.” “Please, Satoru…” Your whisper was faint and weak, “I… saw Yuji’s corpse... on the ground... I just want to see him one last time…”

Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer undoubtedly put a heavy strain on your mental wellbeing; nobody was spared from it, not even the great Gojo Satoru. Unfortunately, you were one of the people who were much more affected by incidents like these. He realized how badly it hurt your heart, he knew how much all the students meant to you and he knew just how much more fragile you were than you let on in front of other people. Where there is light, there must be shadow. It wasn’t like he was left unscathed by it either but right now, his utmost priority was you.

“Right,” the male sorcerer murmured more to himself. He still had to check something. “I want you to show me your arms, please.” If this had been a command, it had to be the gentlest one you had ever heard. Maybe it was the fact that there was a hint of pain infused in the way he spoke to you just now that made you show your arms so willingly, or maybe it was the fact that he always sounded so earnest when he took care of you like this. He genuinely cared; it was something you shouldn’t be surprised about, considering how long the two of you have known and cared for each other, but it never ceased to leave you in awe. You held out your arms for him to see.

As carefully as possible, the man examined your arms, his touch ghosting over your skin. It was a good thing he came prepared. The angry red lines, dry blood and broken skin on both of your forearms seemed to scream at him: you hurt yourself again. Without a doubt, he felt guilty. “I’ll be right back,” he announced as he slipped away from the bed after fixing your position and stroking your hair tenderly. A few moments later, your tall friend was back with a few medical supplies. Sitting back on the bed, he started to clean and treat your injuries. Besides a few hiccups and whimpers from your side, silence befell the room.

“Don’t you want to curse and insult me?” His eyes were still fixed on bandaging your arms. “No,” was all you said in response, fearing that your voice would give in. “You should though. After all, it was technically my fault...” Even though you were hurting, you knew Satoru was hurting all the same deep down in his heart, seeing that his precious students were the victims in this case. Satoru really treasured disciples. You took a few deep breaths before you replied, “Please don’t ever blame yourself for this… I know you wouldn’t have… let this shit happen. I know how much you adore them.”

“If it makes you feel better... if it can help you heal, I’ll take it. Any words are fine. I can deal with all the painful words…” Strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you to his chest. It was rare but his voice… unmistakably cracked for a second. A shaky chuckle left your lungs, “Please Satoru,” you wrapped your arms around him as well and nuzzled into his shirt again, “I could never treat you like that. You are everything to me but an enemy. Have always been.”

“I’ll be anything you need. I’ll even be your enemy if you ask me to… so please tell me, so that it doesn’t hurt you anymore…” he said shakily. The blindfolded man had masked his pain up until now, for your sake. It was your time to comfort him. Giving him shelter, like he had done for you. He had already experienced far too much hurt.

“Satoru, all I’ll ever need you to be in my life… is the important and comforting presence you have always been. Don’t change. If things are too much, too overwhelming and you become tired, you can lean on me too. I will never leave you.”

There was nothing left to say, no need. It was enough for both of you to be in each other’s comforting presence.

Taglist: @gojos-mochi​ @megumifushi @bleueluna

[justafanficwriter123]

"Perfect mach"

Ranmaru Kageyama x reader 🌺

You have advanced to the 4th floor, where there were a lot of coffins. In the coffins were participants who died before you got to meet them.

The real Sou Hiyori gave you an explanation. Apparently, you will proceed with the game in pairs.

"Red threads of fate activate!" Midori said.

Suddenly your collars started beeping and there were lines connecting you to one of the dummies. You were connected to the white haired boy.

"The people connected by red threads of fate are pairs for this game." Real Sou said.

The dummies introduced themselves to you.

"...Uhh, Y/n, was it? I'm Ranmaru, I'm in highschool like you." Ranmaru introduced himself to you.

You observed him a little but stayed silent. "S-Say something... This is awkward..." He said.

"How nice! Everyone looks like they'll get along!" Real Sou said.

Real Sou, or Midori, as Sara decided to call him, gave you an explanation. You need to kill him to win the game, and we can use any method.

After he left, one of the obstructors on this floor attacked you. We managed to beat in and proceed with the floor.

There was a room that peaked your interest. The one that looked like a bathroom from the outside. There was a picture of two people who seem to be holding hands.

The picture gave you an idea of how to open this door. You took Ranmaru's hand in yours. Poor boy was shocked. The door open.

"Whoa! What?! Why?!" Ranmaru asked confused.

"Well... There is a symbol of people holding hands and I thought maybe...!" You said, a little bit hesitant "I'm sorry..."

"You don't have to apologize. It open the door, didn't it? I would just appreciate it if you warned me. You're really sharp, noticing a detail like that." He said, you swore you could see him blush a little.

You observed him a little and touched his shoulder "You're too tense. If you keep trembling like that, you might waste your battery."

"A-And who's fault is that!?" He's blush became even more visible.

"I said I was sorry." You sad making a sad face.

You entered an awfully fluffy room. And saw a woman there who offered you tea. You decided to search the room before she gets back and found some paint and brushes.

"If you want It you can have it." The woman said to me. 'I believe I know where to use these.' you thought.

"Anyway, here's your tea." She said.

"Thank you" you replayed quietly.

The woman told you she was an obstructor but didn't like to fight. She also told you that this was a discussion room.

"Y/n, you've always been with your allies and are used to people hanging out with you because of your intelligence, but did you have the time to think about what you want?" She asked you.

"How would you know that?" What a stupid question! Of course you knew how she knew that!

"You already know, so I don't see the need to answer that." She said.

"This tea is good. Doesn't seem poisoned." Ranmaru said.

If he's drinking it, it should be safe. You also doubted that the woman will let you go if you don't drink it.

"What I really want...? I guess..." You hesitated "I don't want to die..."

"Victory is on the line, right? Only one person can survive. Such a scary thing." The woman said.

"So... Only one person can survive after all..." You said. You speculated that for a while now. She just confirmed your suspicion.

"Six people left... The decision is near. It might even be within the day." She smiled.

"I doubt it. You probably shouldn't go around underestimateing us." You told her.

"But you know... Can you kill Midori?" Ranmaru asked.

"I can't sympathize with a lowlife like that, but... When I someone moving around like that... I can't help but see them as human." He said.

"I don't know... Guess we'll have to wait and see..." You replied. "Thank you for the tea Miss..."

"Call me Maple!" She replied.

You looked at her "Miss Maple. It really suits you." You told her.

"Yeah, It's a nice name." Ranmaru added.

"You both are so nice. No wonder Hiyori though you'll be a perfect mach. I'm glad you're a pair. You're so cute together." She said with a wide smile.

"Ok, we'll be leaving now" You said, feeling the heat rise to your face at her statement.

"Y-Yeah..." Ranmaru was flustered as well.

*Slight time skip*

Everything has gone wrong. Keiji get trapped in the rebel room. Mai and Q-taro are trapped on the 4th floor with probably hacked Maple. The elevator is not working. And now you don't know what to do!

You were sitting in a room that resembled a classroom alone since you let the dummies roam free. There was this paper in the classroom. The one Midori wanted Sara to sign. The one you felt like you have seen before.

Sara came in the classroom. She said she wanted to talk.

"I'm trying to figure out how does this peace of paper relate to our memories. I can't seem to figure it out. What is wrong with me?" You said, mumbling the last part.

"I may be able to help you. Will you take a look at this lantern for me." She told you.

"I do not see how that'll be of any help but I trust you." You did as she said.

You remembered something, a scene of you coming home from school with someone, but it was really hazy until Sara helped you remember.

"I remember it now!" You said loudly.

"That's great! Please tell me!" She said.

*Flash back*

You were walking home from school with your only friend at that time. The one you trusted. Sou Hiyori, or rather, Midori.

He was telling you about some paper that can grant you a wish.

"Come on Hiyori... You know I don't believe in that stuff." You said to him.

"Well, it wouldn't hurt trying, would it?" He told you "Tell me. What is your wish?"

You sigh "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

He nodded.

"Very well then... I guess... My wish is to find someone that'll truly like me... Nothing like love at first sight or anything, you know I don't believe in that ether." You confessed.

"I'm not sure how to describe it. Maybe someone who will find my intelligence and academic skills attractive, and not try to use me because of it. If that makes sense? Maybe someone who is willing to anything for me... Now I'm asking for too much, aren't I?" You tried to explain to the best of your ability.

"I see... I get what you're trying to say... Who I want to be today "asu naro"- tomorrow I will be. We call it the ASU-NARO vow." Hiyori said. "Sign the peace of paper and your wish may just come true."

"If you insist." You were a little bit hesitant to sign your name on the paper but you did it anyway.

"I promise you I will grant your wish. I already have a perfect candidate in mind. You'll be a perfect mach." He had that mischievous grin on his face.

You looked at him "So, you were going to grant my wish after all... Seems I was right. What was the point of me signing the paper then?"

"You'll see soon enough." He just left you after that.

*End of flash back*

"That's all I remember. I can't believe I was so naive! I should've noticed it sooner!" You told Sara.

"Don't beat yourself up for it. There was no way of you to know." Sara tried comforting you.

"I found this searching this room." She handed you a hand.

"I'm guessing, you want me to install it as an upgrade on one of the dummies." You told her.

"Yes... If it's not a problem of course..." She said in a comforting tone.

You went to the computer room and found Ranmaru there.

You started to panic a little internally. Maple said that Midori said that you and him are a perfect mach. When he was talking about a perfect candidate... Was he thinking of Ranmaru?

"H-hey... Would you mind?" you said.

"Oh... Please go ahead." He let you get to the monitor.

"I'm going to install some upgrades that Sara found into you. Obliviously only If I have your approval." You said to him.

"Oh, of course." He said.

You were quick at work and managed to install the upgrade into him with little to no problem.

"That is really impressive. I'm sure glad we're partners." He told you with a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Thank you..." You could feel heat rising up to your own face. "Umm... Would it be ok with you... If we searched together for a while? I would like to get to know you better."

This one was actually requested by someone from Wattpad. It's the longest one-shot I have done so far. I was actually prepared to write more, but I realized how long it is. 🧡

[parkerslatte]

Life’s Too Short

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: mentions of injury

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Spencer is shot in the neck and Y/N sits in the hospital with JJ and Alex talking about her future with him.

MASTERLIST

***

The white lights in the waiting room shone brightly as Y/N bounced her foot up and down anxiously. Even though there were many people around her, Y/N felt alone and isolated. Obviously being in the FBI had its fair share of injuries but this particular injury to a particular team member had left Y/N unable to comprehend it.

Her hands shook as the memory of the traumatic incident replayed in her mind over and over again. She could still feel the blood pouring out of Spencer's wound as she applied pressure to it. She remembered how he looked at her - dazed but afraid to die. She remembered how everything around her seemed to happen in slow motion.

"Don't die on me Spencer, you hear me? Don't die," Y/N pleaded with him, "Stay with me, okay? Stay with me Spence, please."

Her final words to Spencer before he was loaded into the ambulance were frantic and slurred together. Y/N stood there and watched as the ambulance drove away. She didn't go with him in the ambulance. Now sitting in the waiting room, she regretted that decision. She had been told that Spencer was trying to ask for her in the ambulance before he passed out. If he died, Y/N would hold the guilt of not going with him in the ambulance for the rest of her life.

Alex, who had been sat next to Y/N, placed a gentle hand on her knee causing her to jump.

"It's only me." Alex calmed her. Y/N only nodded before her foot resumed it's light tapping.

"He's going to make it, he's strong." Alex tried to comfort Y/N although Alex herself was filled with the same fear as Y/N - though not as strong.

"He needs to." Y/N's voice was barely audible but Alex heard her fine.

JJ took a seat across from Y/N and Alex, her face was filled with stress and worry - for Spencer but also for Y/N. The blonde had never seen Y/N look or act like this. Y/N would always try to give people words of encouragement whenever something bad happened. But now, seeing her sitting there looking pale and worrisome caused a wave of sympathy to wash over JJ.

Y/N zoned out as JJ and Alex fell into a conversation. She wanted to be alone, although she knew that neither of the two would allow that. All she wanted to do was wake up from this nightmare she was living and be safe and sound in the arms of Spencer - alive and well.

"Could you imagine Spence as a dad?" JJ said, bringing Y/N out of her mind space.

Y/N felt like she was frozen. Her and Spencer had discussed before the topic of kids but Y/N didn't think she was ready and the topic was dropped respectfully. But now, Y/N realised how short life was and how it can be cut even shorter in an instant.

"Y/N, are you okay?" JJ questioned, "You're crying."

Y/N looked at JJ through teary eyes. Shakily, she brought her hand up to her cheek to find it damp. She didn't even realise she was crying. Hastily she wiped away the tears and let out a long sigh. There was a long pause where no one spoke. JJ and Alex both looked at Y/N waiting to see if she would speak. They both wanted to comfort their friend.

"Spence and I were talking about kids," Y/N broke the silence with an unsteady voice, she sounded like she ould burst into tears at any second, "It was about six months back."

"What did you say?" JJ asked softly.

"I said I wasn't ready," Y/N admitted, "And I wasn't, not then. With our job and everything I didn't think that having a kid would be the best thing at the moment," Y/N explained.

"I see it all the time but today I realised how quickly a life can be taken away. I never thought I would nearly see Spencer lose his life - he's fighting for his life in there and I can't do anything about it," Y/N paused for a moment, "I now see how short a life is and how easy it can be taken away. I've been desensitised to it for a long time but once it was the man I loved in that situation - I can't act normal. I feel like I'm deteriorating and nothing can stop it until I know that Spencer is out if surgery and safe."

JJ quickly moved next yo Y/N as both she and Alex comforted her as he body began to shake with sobs. Y/N felt like everything was closing in on her. JJ shushed her as her hand was rubbing up and down Y/N's back. After a while Y/N began to calm down. Her face was red and puffy, she for sure did not look attractive in that moment.

***

Not too long after JJ left to go and work the case. Y/N was told not to continue on it and be there for Spencer - and also considering the state she was in, she wasn't fit to work anyway. She was now left with Alex and Penelope. Y/N was glad to have Penelope around since the blonde could always make a smile appear on her face. Penelope Garcia was like a guardian angel.

Speaking of angels, a doctor had come into the waiting room. Y/N immediately clocked her and shot up from her seat. Her legs were slightly wobbly due to her sitting in the same position for however long she was. But Y/N didn't care, she needed to know is Spencer was okay.

As she approached the doctor, a small smile grew on her face causing Y/N to fill with hope.

"The surgery went well and he's in recovery," It was in that moment where Y/N almost ascended to heaven. Spencer was alive. Her Spencer was alive and was okay.

"I can show you to his room if you would like." Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. She was elated. All the worry had dissolved from her body and was filled with happiness.

The doctor led her, Penelope and Alex to the room where Spencer was in recovery. Every step Y/N took, the closer she was getting to Spencer. The doctor stopped in front of the room and gestured for the three to go in.

Y/N rushed in first. Spencer was sleeping on his bed. His head was slightly tilted to the side, his lips parted and hair messy. She walked to the chair beside his bed and took a seat. He looked peaceful in his sleep, a completely contrast to the last time Y/N had saw him when he was loaded into the ambulance.

Y/N took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. She brought his hand up to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on it. Spencer was okay, all that was left was for him to wake up.

***

The next thing Y/N knee was being shook awake. She groaned and slowly opend her eyes. For a moment she forgot where she was but then remembered as soon as she saw the hospital bed. She looked up and saw Penelope, who had shaken her awake. She had a smile on her face.

"Look who's awake?" Penelope said, looking to the hospital bed.

Y/N looked over at the bed and Spencer's eyes were open and he was staring at Y/N lovingly. Even though he was still a little drowsy and spaced out, he still thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

"Spence." Y/N spoke quietly.

"I'll give you two some privacy." Penelope said before leaving the room.

"Hey." Spencer said, his voice was raspy and sounded like how it did in the morning - Y/N loved it.

"You're okay, thank god." Y/N sighed, placing another kiss to his hand.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, squeezing her hand slightly.

Y/N let out a small chuckle, "You literally just got shot in the neck and you ask if I'm okay."

"You're eyes are bloodshot, they're red around the outside, your cheeks are puffy and-"

"Okay, okay, you don’t need to profile that I've been crying, it's obvious - even to someone who isn't a profiler." Y/N said, standing up. She hovered over him and placed a soft kiss to his lips before sitting back down.

"What was that for?" Spencer questioned.

"Because you're alive," Y/N stated, "I thought you were going to die Spence. When you stated at me before you were taken into the ambulance, I thought that was the last time I would ever see you alive."

"Y/N, look at me," Spencer said and Y/N looked up from their joint hands to his face, "Do you feel me?" Y/N nodded, "Can you feel my pulse?" Y/N nodded again, "Am I alive?" Y/N nodded a final time, "Then there's nothing to worry about." Spencer gave Y/N's hand another squeeze.

Y/N smiled and rubbed her thumb over Spencer's knuckles. He was real. He was here. And most importantly, he was alive.

"I was doing some thinking." Y/N started.

"About what?" Spencer said, getting slightly worried.

"About us."

"What about us?" His worry increased slightly.

"I realised how short life is and how easy it is to be taken away and I thought why wait."

"Wait for what?" Spencer asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"I want a family," Y/N confessed, "I want to start a family with you Spencer."

Spencer's heart felt like it could jump out of his chest. Ever since he had met Y/N, he knew that she was the one. The one he would love. The one he would cherish. And the one he knew he would grow old with. There was no other person he would want to start a family with other than Y/N.

"I thought you weren't ready?" Spencer questioned. Even though right now he was internally jumping for joy, he didn’t want Y/N to feel pressured into doing anything.

"Well I am now. Life us short, why wait?" Y/N said.

Spencer smiled. His heart felt like it had expanded three times the size it usually was. He was going to start a family with Y/N. However there was one thing he wanted to do before.

"Can you do me a favour?" Spencer asked.

"Anything."

"Can you go in my trousers pocket and grab the box that's in there?"

Y/N nodded and began to rummage through his belongings bag. She reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Y/N was frozen. Only one piece of jewellery came in a box like this. She was stunned. She knew she wanted to start a family with Spencer, there was no other person she would want to start a family with. However, he had no idea he would propose, especially not now.

"Is this what I think it is?" Y/N asked, her voice slightly unsteady.

"Open it." Spencer said smiling.

Y/N complied to Spencer's request and opened the small box. Inside was a simple diamond ring but it was the perfect ring for Y/N. Tears began to brim Y/N's eyes as she stared at it.

Spencer reached forward, signaling to Y/N to pass him the box. She placed the box in his hand and he took the ring out and held it to her.

"Y/N, I know that this isn't exactly the circumstance that either of us wanted this to happen, but I wanted to ask you - will you marry me?" Spencer said, "I originally had a big speech planned and I memorised it and everything but I don't think that the situation matches the speech anymore."

Y/N stared at the ring in front of her and the man holding the ring before she nodded, "Yes, yes I will marry you Spencer."

Spencer smiled as Y/N leant forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, this kiss more passionate than the one she had given him when he had woken up. This kiss was filled with pure love and adoration.

Y/N pulled away, smiling bright. Spencer's eyes were filled with pure love as he looked back at Y/N.

"I love you, you know that right?" Y/N mumbled.

"Of course I do," Spencer said, "And I'm one hundred percent sure that you know I love you back - so much."

"I'm not as big of a fan of statistics as you, but that is one statistic I know for definite," Y/N replied, "But promise me one thing."

"What?"

"When we get out of here, I want to hear the full speech you had planned."

Spencer chuckled, "It may take a while, it's five pages long."

Y/N smiled, "I would expect nothing less from you Spencer Reid."

SPENCER REID TAGLIST:

@spenxerslut @averyhotchner @drayshadow

- add yourself HERE or message me to be added or removed -

[thatfanficstuff]

A Breath (Part 4) - Clint Barton

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death and possible death

A/N: The final part to this little mini-series.

divider by @ firefly-graphics

They wanted to know how you were here. Of course, they did. You’d just come back to life after all. The bullet had shredded your insides. Those had been Banner’s exact words. Clint’s arms dropped and he leaned back to take a better look at you.

You frowned at the loss of contact. “What’s wrong?”

He wanted to believe this. He needed to believe this but you were dead not even an hour ago. How could he be certain that you were even who you seemed to be? He cleared his throat. “Banner, are there tests you can run or something to make sure this is my wife?”

Everyone fell quiet and you stood leaving him free to get to his feet as well.

“Well, sure, but who else do you think it could be?” Bruce finally said.

Clint raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to think.”

“Sit,” you said, gesturing to the table. “All of you. Sit and I’ll explain.”

Once everyone found a spot, you stood at the front of the room staring at your hands where they rested on the edge of the table.

“Explanations generally require speaking of some sort,” Tony teased. His lips twitched as you shook your head.

Finally, you turned to the large screen behind you. “Jarvis, play the footage from the morgue.”

Clint flinched at the last word. The reminder he had failed you. That he had let you die.

A moment later, the screen filled with the image of you laying on a table in the small room. Thankfully, they only had rare need for it. He wanted to look away, but he needed answers. It was just as he began to wonder when something was going to happen that he realized your body was glowing. As they watched, the light coming from you increased until he had to squint against the brightness. Then as suddenly as the glow came, it was gone. You sat up on the table, swinging your legs over the side as you said, “Clint.”

His name on your lips as you came back to life had a smile tugging at his lips. His gaze darted from the screen to you to find you already watching him, his smile reflected on your own face. He looked back to the recording. He watched as you stood and looked yourself over. Then you walked off screen and Jarvis ended the replay.

“Okay, we saw it. Now explain it,” Nat said, disbelief threaded through her words.

You put your hands in your pockets and rocked on your feet. After taking a deep breath, you locked eyes with Clint. “I’m an angel.”

There was absolute silence in the room as they processed your words. You’d always been Clint’s angel, but the thought you might be an actual celestial being was a bit much for him to swallow if he was honest.

Your eyes scanned the room and the corner of your mouth kicked up in a smile. “A guardian angel to be precise. Well, I was. Specifically, I was Clint’s guardian angel.”

Shock slammed through him. You were literally his angel?

“Well, that explains how he’s still alive,” Natasha said breaking the silence. There were several quiet laughs from around the room.

Clint scowled in her direction.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. You know you should have died more than once.”

Your smile widened. “She’s not wrong.”

“So, you’re an angel. What does that mean exactly?” Bruce asked. “How are you here?”

“The short version is I fell in love with my charge. It happens on the rare occasion. I was granted leave to become human. Human-ish,” you amended with a tilt of your head. “I was fortunate enough that he loved me back.”

“Do you have any powers?” Steve asked.

Bucky snorted a laugh. “She just came back to life, Steve. What do you think?” That brought another round of quiet laughter. As shocked as they all were at your revelation, they were all glad you were alive.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tony sounded so betrayed. Clint rolled his eyes. If anyone should feel betrayed, it was him. You were his wife. How had you never told him this?

“I had no intention of revealing my nature until it was absolutely necessary.”

“But you could have been using your powers, whatever they are, to help us this whole time,” Tony argued.

You arched a brow. “What makes you think I haven’t?” You crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight to one side.

Clint leaned back in his chair. He knew that stance. Tony was about to get educated.

“Do you really think you came to because Banner Hulk yelled at you at the Battle of New York? And even Iron Man doesn’t survive wielding the infinity stones with only a few burns. You should have been dead twice over, Stark.” Your gaze ran over the room again. “Steve shouldn’t have survived the fall from the helicarrier. Rhodey shouldn’t be able to walk. Loki and Nat weren’t brought back by the stones. I intervene all the time.”

“Why not tell us that was you?” Bruce’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I still don’t understand why you kept it a secret.”

You remained silent and still as if waiting for something.

“Why didn’t you save Pietro?” Wanda’s voice cracked. “Why did you let my brother die?”

Your eyes darted over to Bruce. “That’s why.”

And god, the sorrow in your voice had him wanting to wrap you in his arms and whisk you away. The rest of the team be damned.

You sighed and placed your hands on the table so you could lean forward. Your shoulders hunched up as if you were trying to hide. Instead of looking at your friend, you kept your focus on the tabletop. “Everyone’s life is a line. In most cases there are points all along it where death is a possibility. A little nudge and the life continues forward. But it can’t continue past the end of the line. That’s the final point. No nudges. No intervention. I’m sorry, Wanda. His line was so short.”

A tear fell from your eye and splashed on the table. Clint was on his feet in an instant. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. You turned and buried your face in his chest as you hugged him back. Moisture soaked through his shirt from your silent tears. “Alright, we’re done for now. It’s been a long day. She needs to rest.”

Surprisingly no one argued as he steered you from the room and to your bedroom. He settled you on the side of the bed and went to pull away but you held him in place before dragging him down onto the bed with you. He chuckled. “I need a shower, sweetheart.”

“Don’t care,” you said as you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck.

He hummed and shifted the two of you so you were laying together. Your bodies found their usual positions. As you lay on his chest, he ran his hand up and down the length of your spine. “What about your line? How long do I have you for?” He needed to know. He didn’t think he’d survive losing you again.

“When I chose you, my line was made to match yours. I will live on this Earth until the day that you die and then I will join you. You’re never getting rid of me, Barton.”

Joy flooded through him at the thought that he’d never have to live without you. He couldn’t think of a greater life. “I think I can live with that, Barton.”