#god he’s. such a sad little puzzle of a man

[viktorapologist]

I am so late to the party but that's not going to stop me from giving y'all my reactions to the latest chapter of byss.

In light of recent jayvik events, if you too agree that Viktor fell first but Jayce fell harder, please read this fic I’m begging you.

It physically pains me to read that Viktor and Jayce have a rift between them. Barely acknowledging each other? Ugh???? I'm so sad. Right from the beginning of the chapter, you can feel that Jayce wants things to go back to normal. He just doesn't know how to fix it yet.

I feel so much empathy for Jayce, how the curiosity about Viktor's secret crush is eating him alive. And the rejection from Viktor hit him square in the chest. All he heard was "I don't want you" even though that's not what Viktor meant. Oh sweet sweet Jayce. You poor thing. Jayce has been so comfortable with their level of intimacy while being totally oblivious to what it means for the two of them. It's interesting to see him finally facing some negative consequences for walking through life unaware of his own feelings for Viktor. He deserves this pain, honestly.

And maybe he'll learn something because of it??

"Jayce's heart plummeted to his feet like an anvil thrown in the river Pilt." God, what a beautiful description. I feel it in my bones.

The way Jayce is so perceptive too? Like he can see that Viktor isn't really angry with him, that it's more like he's afraid of something and Jayce can't tell what it is yet. The puzzle pieces are fitting into place, slowly but surely. THEY KNOW EACH OTHER. Damn it, even when they're having a conflict, they know each other.

It’s satisfying to see the way that Jayce’s priorities have realigned to favor Viktor’s health over everything else. We see him do that in canon when he finds out Viktor is ill, but it’s much too late at that point. The rift had already grown too wide between them. But in this timeskip period, there’s still a chance for Jayce to salvage their bond. The small ways that Jayce and Viktor’s actions echo their characterization from the show is what makes this fic so believable. It’s so immersive.

Okay when Jayce goes into Heimerdinger’s office and worries about entering without permission, I rolled my eyes. He’s so silly. Maybe he’s a little afraid to go to jail again, for trespassing this time? Breaking and entering is no fun if Viktor’s not there too, I guess.

When he writes the note to Heimerdinger and notes that the page is already signed with his own name; Jayce has never been as oblivious as he is in that moment. After thinking about the list of names too! The torture of knowing he’s so close to the truth, yet so far from it. Damn you, Jayce.

Ooooooo when Jayce overhears Viktor discussing things with Heimerdinger, I was locked in. I love a good eavesdropping scene. The tension! The drama! Learning secrets! When a trope is done right, it works so well. Lowkey one of my favorite things about this fic so far is that when a storytelling trope is included, it never feels forced. It always serves a purpose within the narrative and doesn’t feel like it was purely there for the reader to giggle at. Although don’t get me wrong, I’m kicking my feet and smiling at all of emotional reveals.

Heimerdinger tries and fails to convince Viktor to leave Piltover, in an effort to stop the progression of his hanahaki. Honestly thrilled to get more details about Viktor’s feelings on the matter.

“Leaving him isn’t an option.” Oh Viktor. I’m crumpling onto the floor in a puddle. The devotion is too strong. He thinks Jayce is worth dying for.

Overhearing this is what makes Jayce finally shift out of denial and into acceptance that Viktor isn’t dealing with a passing crush. Viktor is truly in love. And this acceptance of that fact leads Jayce to FINALLY realize why he’s been acting the fool lately.

Jealousy.

For some reason (we all know why), Jayce is jealous of the man Viktor loves. Hmmm, how could that be? Maybe because you find Viktor extremely attractive both physically and emotionally, huh Jayce? It’s a big step for him to finally give a name to this thing he’s been feeling for multiple chapters. Proud of him!!!!! Still mad at him for shutting down his thoughts about Viktor being handsome but hey, he’ll get there eventually.

Classic moment having an animal ruin the eavesdropping. I laughed at that. Especially Jayce saying “go away” aaaaaa it’s like a rom-com, I’m obsessed.

Oh my god and when Jayce goes into the office, the way they share a moment as Viktor leaves???? Ugh it’s giving Pride and Prejudice hand touch. The eye contact, the tension, but also the softness?

Mad at Heimerdinger for not giving them a free pass on Progress Day when Viktor is literally dying, but uhhhh points for realism there. Capitalism waits for no one. Don’t mind me over here, crying softly.

And in true Jayce fashion, he stubbornly argues that Heimerdinger failed to convince Viktor to leave Piltover because he didn’t try hard enough. Jayce is convinced that he could do it. And go with Viktor. Of course. (Which is obviously a PROBLEM) Adorable how Jayce immediately starts rattling off a plan that includes himself. As if there’s never a world where Jayce and Viktor aren’t attached at the hip. They’re so in love, I can’t handle it.

Okay is Heimerdinger going to meddle and help Jayce figure out his feelings? The way he was staring him down…the gears were turning.

“Keep him busy,” Heimerdinger says. UM WHAT? Okay sign Viktor’s death certificate right now. He’s dead. So dead. Jayce is going to distract him with happy memories they’ve shared and unintentionally put Viktor right into the coffin. Oh no no no.

Jayce finally gets a chance to apologize, and oh boy is he just the sweetest man there ever was? He’s so honest and open. He really values Viktor’s friendship more than anything. Viktor melts back into their casual banter and I regain all of the years of life I lost at the cliffhanger from the last chapter. Thank god they’re not mad at each other anymore.

When Jayce shared his vision for them escaping out of Piltover together, I can’t even articulate how happy it made me. He’s so in love and doesn’t even know it. The genuine surprise Viktor was probably feeling to hear that. Like he never considered Jayce would run away with him. But Jayce thinks it’s obvious, and they’d have a library and a pet and a garden. Oh fuck me up. I’m going to cry.

Oh oh oh is the little transport robot thing going to be canon in this fic? I don’t know much about it but it seemed like a hint.

And uh, yeah they are obnoxiously flirting at the end. No one can tell me otherwise. Get a room, you two! When they tease each other, it’s my favorite thing. I love it so much.

(Something tells me Jayce’s excellent idea is going to backfire…)

Before Your Sun Sets | Chapter 5 is out! 🌸

Read chapter 5 now

Start from the beginning

[princeandreis]

you could of course make an argument that house is a deeply tragic show all the way through, but there’s a little something ~extra~ once we see the full weight of what’s between him and cuddy. in s6 we’re watching house desperately trying to impress her in a million small ways (like bribing clinic patients to broadcast their good experience with him in cuddy’s earshot), making efforts to show up for her, and talking more openly with wilson about his feelings for her. at the same time he also tries to manipulate lucas into backing off by “pretend” drunkenly confessing that he loves cuddy in the most bizarre bluffing attempt I’ve ever seen that isn’t a bluff at all, plays the diagnostics team like a bunch of fiddles, and is in general still his nasty curmudgeon self. he’s always been a little rat man. but I think what makes this part extra sad is that he knows he’s a little rat man, one who couldn’t possibly be good enough for the woman he loves. so he tries. but all he knows how to do — all he’s ever known — is to manipulate. to twist and to play people against each other. and it’s actively driving him away from the one person he wants to be close to.

[geeeemmmmmmm]

"Baby I'm Yours"

A/N:I've been randomly just getting ideas for fics all day and I needed to write at least one so as always sorry for any mistakes and enjoy:)

Summary:A new receptionist at the tower is being more friendly than your used to, luckily your boyfriend Bucky comes to the rescue for you

Warnings:Receptionist is kinda touchy(not much) other than that just some fluff(please say if I've missed anything:))

WC:1.4k

Your day was going well so far, you had just left your shared apartment much to Bucky's dismay as he wasn't required to come in today so you had to go in alone. As you walked in your eyes were darting around trying to find Keira, the old receptionist that you enjoyed talking to on your way in and out but instead you encountered the new guy, Jamie. "Where's Keira?" you asked puzzled as she was never not here and quite frankly you were confused "She left, some family thing" the man replied not seeming to care about what happened to her "Oh well I'm Y/N" you smiled sweetly reaching out to shake his hand as he quickly grabbed your hand and shook it for a little longer than most but you didn't notice "I'm Jamie" he replied in awe. "Well I'll see you round then!" you said happily as you pulled your hand away before him and walked off to greet Nat who was keeping the elevator open not noticing how Jamie watched you with lingering eyes as you disappeared into the elevator. 

It was a boring day without Bucky being there, he always finds spare time in his day to talk to you more like he isn't already dating and living with you but you kept your cheery composure up as you went to the front desk to say bye to Jamie. "Hey Y/N!" he said hurriedly as if you were about to run off on him "Hi Jamie" you replied sweetly, like you would to anyone but this just hooked Jamie in more as he tried to get some small talk in and you compiled for awhile. "Uhm it's getting quite late and my boyfriend will be worried" you said trying to still seem nice as you glanced at your watch then at Jamie as he stumbled his words around to eventually get a sad "Oh cya then" out as you started to speed up your pace out the door, eager to get home to your favourite person even though it wasn't even that late you just wanted to be at home.

Bucky was almost pacing a hole in the ground in front of the door as he already heard your footprints approaching. He was ready to almost tackle you with one of his bear hugs. You open the door with a sigh of relief ready to be met with what you're convinced is the love of your life as you're pulled into him. "Hey Buck" you said only slightly muffled by his chest as he was basically trying to merge you into him, "Hey Doll" he breathed out acting like he needs you more than the air he breathes, which is honestly true in his mind. It's not often you two are apart even for just a day so each of you are always more clingy with each other after you're apart. "God today was boring without you" you said as you managed to get you and Bucky to your couch without him letting his arms unwrap from your waist "How do you think I feel" he chuckled in reply as you just gazed at him as you blushed, even after months of dating Bucky still always manages to get you flustered.

The night was just a simple one, your favourite kind. Bucky was glued to you, always having his chin resting on your shoulder as you fixed up a small dinner for you both while he tried to distract you by kissing all down your neck "If you give me a hickey Barnes" you threatened as you cupped his cheek trying not to let out a laugh as he almost pouted at your words and just returned to looking at you, admiring everything he could see. After dinner you returned to the couch and laid down as Bucky's weight on top of you was such a comforting, maybe a little suffocating feeling but you were happy that he's so comfortable with you to display this much vulnerability and affection to you. His beard tickled your neck as he asked how your day was "nothing much to report, it was boring without you" you told him as you mindlessly ran your fingers through his hair, while you smiled just never getting over the fact that you found someone as perfect as Bucky. Right after saying that you heard tiny snores being emitted from your boyfriend "let's get you to bed" again you laughed as you tried to get him up but he wouldn't budge and just kept lying on you. You just gave up, it's impossible to move a super soldier against his will, even worse an unconscious one so you just inhaled his cologne that you'd always loved on him and shortly after you fell into a soft sleep.

You woke up with a massive grin on your face as you then realised you and Bucky had overslept, now normally both of you would be unphased but Tony had told everyone that there was an extremely important meeting today at 8AM sharp, it was currently 8:15 AM. You left off the couch and sprinted to the shower for the quickest shower known to man while Bucky got dressed and left out some clothes for you. It was a challenge to get to the meeting in time and Jamie saw you run in and tried to get you to talk to you "Can't talk sorry man" you said running by him as Bucky closely followed noticing how Jamie just moped in reply as you and Bucky ran to the elevator. While Jamie saw that your necklace fell off, the necklace that Bucky gave you on your birthday, the necklace that you never took off as it was so precious. Jamie didn't know any of course, only that you'll surely come back and this will give him an excuse to talk to you more.

You were distraught when you naturally reached for your neck to hold your necklace only to find that it wasn't there, you ran to Bucky holding back tears as you didn't know what you'd do without it because it means so much to you. "Shh it's ok y/n I promise" he cooed as he saw that you were about to break into tears and quickly brought you into his side. He spent the rest of the day asking his teammates if they had any clue where it was and if they had seen it but of course no one knew and just replied with a simple "Sorry Buck, I haven't". You were frantically retracing your steps searching for anything to see where it was when you came to the conclusion that it must surely be at the front desk and at least it was the end of the day so you went to find Bucky and went down in the elevator also checking if it was somehow in there. You ran up to Jamie the moment those doors opened, he somehow managed to sneak out a sly "Lost something?" before you as you were panicking "Y-Yes yes do you have my necklace?" you almost yelled at him so desperate to get it back as he just chuckled and smiled while he tried to grab your hand while you took it from him. Before you had to say to Jamie to let go of your hand Bucky came to rescue. "Found it, baby?" he said as he glared at Jamie while pressing a kiss to your cheek noticing how uncomfortable you were near Jamie. Bucky almost growled at Jamie saying "Thanks for finding my girlfriends necklace, you won't be needed again" he said with his most intimidating stare as Jamie just gulped looking like a deer in headlights absolutely dumbfounded you were dating the winter soldier. You just tucked yourself back into Bucky's side as he wrapped his flesh arm around you and walked out of the tower giving Jamie one last glare.

"Thank you for that, I don't know what I would've done without you" you whisper while staring at your necklace glad that it's back on your neck. "Anything for my girl" he spoke back in his normal soft tone around you as he blushed at you going on your tiptoes to kiss him. "Baby I'm yours" you said to him holding back a smile as you gripped his face with your palm as he just laughed and tucked you into him and softly kissed your head, perfectly content with you. "Wouldn't want it any other way" he whispered as you two slowly walked back home enjoying each other's embrace.

A/N:Bloody hell once I get writing, I cannot stop. I hope you all enjoyed!

[0mg-bird]

Look Of Love~ S. Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary: All the moments you had to tell him exactly how you feel, and yet it comes down to this one, where the words ‘I love you’ might save his life.

Warnings: Violence, angst, Reid being a kicked puppy, blood, tw! Tobias Hankel!

Season 2 Reid x Fem! Agent! Reader

Everything was going fine, wasn’t it? Well, about as fine as you can consider a case about a serial killer who believes he’s doing the work of God, to go.

But he was fine.

And that was what made things fine.

Well, until the whole thing crumbled and there was a sharp pain in your lungs that isn’t about to cease. JJ and Spencer left to find the location of Tobias Hankel’s home, that was about an hour ago. You had watched as he holstered his gun, preparing to get into the car and leave you.

“You’re still not coming with me.” He says towards your silent pining.

“Spence.” You argue, though he just turns to look at you amused.

“We’re just going to talk to this guy, he’s just a witness. They need you here.” He reasons, reassuring you with a smile.

His words always seemed to calm you down, it’s like magic, the Reid effect. So you nodded and rolled your eyes as he tucked your hair behind your ears, a quirk he’s always done because he knows how much you hate your pointy ears.

There was no argument, you and Spencer were the closest ones out of the rest. It’s a kind of peaceful friendship, the two of you just played in harmony so well. He knew all of your secrets, you knew almost all of his, and you weren’t shy to tug on his arm or secretly join your hand in his under the table during meetings. Spencer was more than okay with it, learning that’s just how you act with people you are comfortable with.

And while the two of you were convinced it wasn’t a relationship the team would bat an eye at, your friends often had secret discussions in regard to you.

“This whole ‘friendship’ scheme…do they really buy it?” Emily asked one morning as she watched you take a drink of coffee and cringe at the too sweet taste, then give it to Reid and take the one he had been drinking.

Reid isn’t a fan of germs.

But in his mind, yours aren’t so bad.

“Oh no, they’re still convinced they’re just close friends.” Morgan chuckled, answering the woman’s question.

“She loves him.” JJ added in a matter of fact tone. “It’s honestly a little sad…she doesn’t want to admit it out loud.”

“Why?” Emily’s brows furrow.

“Afraid she’ll ruin the friendship.” Morgan simply says.

At that, the female agent scoffs. “Reid’s obviously in love with her, no friend looks at another friend that way.”

They watch intently at the eye contact being shared, and how expressions change when Reid walks away from you.

“They look like kicked puppies.” JJ frowns. “Morgan, go talk to him, I can’t stand this anymore.”

The man looks at her in confusion. “And say what? I can’t just tell a man how he feels.”

Emily argues. “Reid doesn’t know what he feels, he’s confused, put him out of his misery.”

As Morgan goes to open his mouth, Hotch appears with his signature scowl and the conversation was dropped and done with.

Though it was never forgotten.

The entire team saw the lovesickness between the two of you…and yet, you couldn’t fix it.

There were plenty of times you could have confessed, many perfect moments that were ruined by your fear of the feeling not being mutual.

And after a while, the words seemed to try and escape on their own accord. Like in the moment he goes to leave and you call to him one last time.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a bit?” He said, scanning your face intently like he always seemed to do.

“Yeah, see you soon, I lo-”

Your heart beats loudly in your ears and you seal your lips, feeling betrayed by your own words. He looks at you, puzzled, then leaves.

You should have told him.

You should have just told him.

Because now, gun drawn, searching Hankel’s house, Spencer is no where to be found.

JJ was in the barn out back, looking rather disheveled and scared when she was found, but she was safe and unharmed and Spencer was gone.

“We thought he was just a witness, I swear. Then Reid figured out he was the UnSub and...” JJ said to you over and over, feeling guilt in her bones, blaming herself for his abduction. She swore that she should’ve stayed with him, not split up like he said to. She means well…you just can’t think straight.

The team stayed inside the house overnight, working off of minimal hours of sleep, and daybreak came and you were sitting on the couch with your head in your hands, thinking of some plan on how you were going to find him.

“Hey.” Penelope greeted as you walk into the room with a multitude of computers she was searching for any clues.

“Hey.” You sigh, leaning on the desk beside her. “Anything yet?”

She shakes her head. “No, sweet pea.”

You watch the videos of war and destruction on the screens, the right kind of fuel for a split personality maniac like Hankle.

“If Tobias is living as three people, and his father is the one that’s the evil side of his brain, then I think that’s who has taken Reid. We’ve been thinking like Tobias, we need to be thinking like his dad, right?” You question, turning to Morgan as he walks into the room.

He nods. “It’s a good idea, yeah.”

Suddenly, the computer screens in front of the three of you go black.

“What happened?” Morgan asks.

“I don’t know…” Penelope answers…

She tries to get the screens back up, but to all of your surprise, the live stream that comes on is something more horrific than what you were previously watching.

“Spencer.” The name leaves you as well as all the air in your lungs.

There he was, your pretty boy, sat in a chair, bloody and bruised and out of it.

Morgan yells for the others, but you’re frozen in place.

“Track him, Pen.” You say in a panic.

“I can’t, Hankle is only streaming this to his home computer.” She says in disbelief.

“What do you mean?” You worry. “This is some kind of joke? This is just for us to see?”

She nods slowly.

The team watches closely, listening to the way Hankle forces Reid to choose an innocent couple to get murdered.

You seriously think you’re going to be sick.

He struggles on the screen, choosing someone to be spared torture instead.

And as fast as he was in front of you, he’s gone from the live feed even faster. You stare at the blank screen with red eyes, then leave the room completely.

A full day wasted, you weren’t close enough to find him. You go back to couch and prepare for another sleepless night.

~~

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep, because you wake with a start at the feeling of something being different.

You make your way to the computer room where everyone is hunched over, looking at a map Penelope brings up.

“Good, you got some sleep.” Hotch says, barely sparing you a glance as you enter.

“What’s going on?” You ask, leaning into Morgan’s side.

“We think we found him.” He says to you, watching your eyes widen.

“What?” Your voice cracks and any lingering feeling of sleep is gone.

“We’re heading out in five.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Tying your hair up and rubbing your face, you pull a kevlar vest on and cinch the velcro shut. The entire car ride to the little shack, you’re twitching.

Everyone shares a look, because the way you act now is the whole reason they didn’t wake you when the live feed was back up. If you were to watch the way Reid was being beaten, Gideon isn’t sure you could handle it.

The team storms the shack, and you try hard not to lose hope when you come up empty handed yet again.

You curse to yourself. “They were here.”

“They couldn’t have gotten far, they’re on foot.” Hotch nods, immediately turning back out to search the cemetery you were in.

On high alert, you search through the dark, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“We’re gonna find him.” Morgan promises, but you can’t focus on anything besides locating Reid.

Closer and closer, you can almost feel it in your bones, the way your instincts guid you in a direction.

The only thing that halts your step is the sound of a single gun shot.

No.

No, it wasn’t going to end like this. It couldn’t.

Quickly, you head to that noise with your partners following after you.

“Spencer!” You shout, voice raw. “Spence?”

He looks up from Tobias’ body, and it’s like the entire world stops spinning. He’s there, he’s alive, he’s breathing ragged breaths and it’s all okay.

Hotch is there to help him to his feet, guiding him to stumble forward until he gains his footing. His head is dizzy and his hearing might be a little echoey but in a single moment, you’re there.

He grips onto you like you’re his lifeline, and you wrap your arms around him, stumbling to support his weight. A hand in his dirty hair, he feels your touch and knows you have to be real. That it’s your real form here that’s fighting to hold back tears and not the visions he’d see when he was out of it.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You promise, knowing he might not realize he’s shaking and mumbling.

Pulling back just a few inches, he’s leaning his forehead to yours and breathing too quickly.

“Hey, hey.” You say softly, gently cupping his face. “Look at me, Spencer, look at me, sweetheart.”

He sees the deep look in your worried eyes and tries to form a sentence, but for once, his big brain can’t figure out what to say.

You do though.

And for once, you aren’t scared to say it. Actually, you’re afraid of not saying it.

“Spence.” You breathe out, he breathes in like your air is what matters. Your hand gently smooths blood soaked hair back, trying to get him to calm down.

He says your name in reassurance to himself.

“Hey, I’m right here.” You say. “I’m right here, and I love you.”

His brain fog seems to clear, his confused brown eyes are searching your face like they always tend to do, and those three words are making a small smile pull on his cracked lips.

~~

The hospital trip is almost too brief, just enough for him to get checked out and cleaned up, then you’re back on the plane to head home.

Curled in the corner of the small couch, you are barely asleep like the others, listening to music, head leaned against the wall. That’s before gentle hands pull your headphones off your ears.

Your eyes open and turn to see Spencer, sitting down beside you.

“Hey.” You whisper.

He sets the headphones down. “Hi.”

“You feel okay?” You ask, noticing the way he pulls your knees away from your chest so you sit normally.

He nods. “I feel about as good as someone who just got beat up would.”

You smile at his humor.

He tucks the hair framing your face, behind your ears, as always. “I was in and out of consciousness when you found me, I think, so I need to make sure that you actually said it and I wasn’t just lucid dreaming.”

You reach up to grab his hands. “Said what?”

He takes a deep breath. “That…you love me?”

His eyes are hopeful and wide, that’s what makes you nod.

“You weren’t imagining it…I love you, Spence.”

A smile forms on his face. “That’s good then.” He says, sure of himself.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

That when he flips your hold of his hands and joins one in his. “Because I love you too.”

There it was, the confession you’ve wanted for so long. There’s a moment of silence, then your free hand cups his jaw and he moves so close, your lips part just to breathe out slowly and then he’s there. Kissing you.

It’s soft, like you’ve been doing this for years.

He licks his lower lip after he pulls away, trying to savor the taste. Brushing your forehead to his for a second, you lean back and motion for him to follow. There’s no words that need to be spoken as he makes himself a bed in your lap, lying on his side that hurts the least and presses his face into your stomach.

Out like a light, the both of you.

Morgan nudges Emily a while later when they both wake, and he motions over to the lump on the couch. The woman grins.

“It took no interference at all.” She says.

Morgan smirks. “Nope, just a near death experience.”

Hotch scowls as usual. “We’re going to have to talk to HR about this.”

[corvidcrossbow]

Daryl's the kinda guy to have a small table in the living room that has the puzzle he's been slowly working on for practically months set out on it – he delicately moves it in front of the couch then sits and silently works on it some evenings, expect for little grunts of understanding when he finally figures out a certain section he was stumped on.

He gets so flustered when you come over to look, standing beside the couch and rubbing his shoulder for a little bit while admiring his work, and he so shyly says a thanks, sheepishly reaching for the next piece while you watch for a little.

He likes to go do it some nights where he can't sleep and feels like he's gonna disturb you by just lying awake next to you in bed, usually when he's having a harder time emotionally – this gives him something to do rather than sulk, even though the thoughts still do get to him while he's working on it sometimes.

Oh god and once he probably went to do that, but Dog came over and had a bit too much energy and knocked the table just enough for everything to slide off and crumble to the floor, ruined.

He just sat there for a moment, looking at the 3d triangular shape his nearly finished puzzle landed in. He didn't even sigh in defeat; he just got up and trekked his way back to your bedroom, gently waking you up by crawling into your arms.

And he buried his head into your neck, breathing you in uneasily and trying to steady himself. But as you rubbed his back and scratched his scalp, asking him what's wrong, he couldn't help but cry a little cause he already felt so negative and now felt sort of crushed, the time and effort he put into that for nothing. It makes him feel stupid; like why is he crying over a damn puzzle? He's a grown man, in a fucking apocalypse. He doesn't have time to cry over something so childish, let alone be doing a puzzle in the first place.

But your soothing helped to wash away his self loathing, tenderly reminding him it's okay to be upset about those kinda things: that it may be small in the perspective of the world, but it meant something to him. He put his time and his effort into it, and that's what made it something big.

That made him cry harder, your confirmation that it's okay to cry, getting that allowance to. His father surely banned crying, even over major things like his moms death, telling him there's no reason for a man to ever cry – and every time he'd beat him he would repeatedly demand he stop crying, until he eventually did: and the only times he ever cried were when he'd escape to be deep in the forest, sit alone and let his walls down for a little before having to put them all back up and face his homelife again, and shamed himself for doing such in the first place.

You're what finally let him express his love for the little things, and express how he felt when bad things happen with said little things.

He definitely didn't have many toys growing up, so he turned to things like puzzles – secretly doing them in his room late at night then shoving them under his bed when he wasn't working on it cause he knew Merle or his dad would make fun of him for it or destroy it – so doing puzzles now heals his inner child, and it getting knocked over hurt him even more cause it brought him back to those memories.

This was not meant to get sad but now I'm tearyeyed at 4:30 am while writing this. He's just tryna mend the kid his childhood broke :(

[lassieposting]

Concept:

You are Bhaal, god of murder, and someone is praying to you.

And that's not necessarily unusual. Lots of people pray to you, usually for the untimely death of a rival, an ex-spouse, an overseer. The prayer itself is a small and broken thing, bloody and raw, whispered by a man whose vision is dulled by agony and the dark spectre of approaching death. The pathetic not-quite-survivor of some rather brutal torture, wishing murder upon his captor. You take a moment to enjoy the fear, the pain, the suffering - and then you tune him out. There are millions like him, and your favour is for those willing to do their killing themselves. Besides, that wretch will be nothing but a corpse all too soon.

Except...he doesn't die. You never feel that timid little spark of existence stutter and go out. Far beyond the breaking point of a mortal body, this one lingers on, clinging to being with fingers all but stripped back to bare bone.

It's intriguing enough to warrant a second look and - interesting. The prayer comes from a vampire, a pretty little corpse becoming an even prettier corpse under the skilled hand of a cruel master.

It is not in your nature to intervene. You favour the strong, not the weak. The master, not the slave. Your first instinct is to leave the wretched little thing to his fate.

But the thing is. Your child - your favourite child, shaped from your own flesh, coldest and most brutal of your progeny - has gone and got a boyfriend.

And you don't like him.

You don't like the effect he's having on your chosen, the way they're becoming distracted, attached, less devoted to their true purpose. And right now, your nature takes a back seat to your desire to get rid of that smug, arrogant little Baanite whelp, Enver Gortash. Your granddaughter's spiteful machinations have given you an opening, but you know they're bound to run into one another eventually, and it will all start over.

The vampire is beautiful. Well-trained. Accustomed to brutality. Already purged of sympathy and compassion, eaten up inside by hatred and bitterness and harm. And immortal; able to survive the worst of your son's inclinations. At this point, he'll do.

So you redirect a nautiloid. It's not that you're showing the creature any favour - it's just pragmatism, really. He is simply a tiny piece of a very large puzzle.

And then you watch.

You watch the vampire take the spectacular murder of a young bard in stride.

You watch him identify your memory-addled, sanity-challenged offspring as the most dangerous one in their sad little group of unwashed tragedies - the strongest protector, the solution to his fear of being discarded or returned to his master.

You watch him expertly lure your progeny into a pit trap of sex and lies and manipulation, dressed up with honeyed words and an exaggerated performance of desire.

Your child comes face to face with Enver Gortash and remembers nothing - feels nothing. They only have eyes for Astarion, and you are filled with satisfaction. The vampire is pathetic and fearful now, but already he plans to take over his master's ritual, and then he will be perfectly placed to feed your child's very worst impulses, to bring out the sharpest edge of the darkness inside.

You watch the vampire say, "I want us to be real."

You watch your child happily become a glorified comfort blanket, your masterwork living weapon reduced to little more than a prey animal, a do-gooder, a sacrifice.

Watch them vow, "I will be the person you see in me."

Watch them talk the blasted creature out of going through with the ritual at all.

Watch them start fighting their own nature for the pantomime love of someone else's broken toy.

Watch them turn on you.

And you decide, with the benefit of hindsight, that Enver Gortash was not that bad, actually.

[spotsandsocks]

A Place for You, Next to Me Chapt 1 and 2

Buck finds out that Eddie doesn’t really ‘do’ birthdays so what’s a best friend supposed to do, obviously he can’t let Eddie think he doesn't care. So he makes a plan to celebrate and it’s a good plan, it really is and is it really his fault if one little thing goes wrong with their booking.

It’s certainly not his fault that Eddie’s reaction to the unexpected problem would turn a pleasant weekend away into an agony of temptation.

A tale of pining and love and only one bed.

Fans of only one bed shenanigans - this one’s for you.🥹🌈🛏️🎂🛏️🥃🥃🥃🛏️🤯😍🌈❤️‍🔥 Chapt 1&2 today 3&4 tomorrow 💕

Now I was half way though writing this when @bobbysfirehose posted this stunning piece of art that blew my mind away (all their art is magnificent btw so go check out and shower with love) and with permission I tried to describe the pose towards at the end of the fic because it was just perfect for the situation, so you have a nice visual to go along with the words.

Eddie hadn’t expected any reaction at all, least of all the one he’s getting. Standing in his kitchen he watches Buck process the information he just casually mentioned as part of thier conversation about Chris’ next birthday.

“Are you serious?” 

His best friend is standing there with his mouth hanging open, eyes wide, a puzzled frown on his brow, it’s adorable and amusing and God he loves this man so much. Eddie however is wise enough to look away and keep the sentiment out of his voice.

“Yes I’m serious, Buck. I’ve never done anything special to celebrate any of my birthdays.”

If anything that simple statement makes matters worse, Buck's mouth opens and shuts. He looks like a goldfish, apparently he’s managed to render him speechless and that’s quite an impressive feat.

Eddie takes another sip of beer to hide his smile as Buck flounders. The other man is looking horrified, “Your 15th? That’s special right?”

He shrugs. “Dad was away. We did some stuff at church, nothing big. I got a cake.”

“What about 18?  Or or your 21st?” 

He throws Buck a raised eyebrow, “Think about that for a second.”

A pained look crosses his friend’s face “Oh.” Then his nose crinkles “ Oh.. I don’t think I want to.”

Buck sounds upset. Eddie can just imagine what he’s thinking, how he’s comparing the life that he himself had between 16 and 21 with the one Eddie had. The tragic sympathy emanating out of sad pools of blue is a bit much though, it really wasn’t that bad. Yeah, he didn’t get a lot of time to be young but that’s ok he got other stuff instead. He ended up with the best kid in the world so he can’t really complain about missing birthday celebrations. 

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me, so my life’s been a bit different than yours, but that’s ok . Still got cake, even got a balloon once.” 

His joke falls flat, Buck looks devastated .

“Honestly, all completely normal, I promise, don’t freak out on me.”

He moves around him heading back to the couch and if he touches his arm on the way past, well it’s a tight space to squeeze through. Buck’s own fault really, for filling so much of it. His friend's voice follows him out of the kitchen. 

“But nothing since you got old?”

Eddie turns just so Buck can appreciate the eye roll, “I'm not exactly old Buck, I’m the same age as you.”

“Are we sure about that?” 

Abruptly Buck’s mood shifts and he’s teasing, humour replacing the tragic look that had been there only seconds ago.

“You do kinda look older than me. Pretty sure I spotted some gray hairs on you the other day.”

Eddie glares and throws a handy cushion without aiming. Buck catches it easily and grins, before taking another swig of beer. Eddie tries not to watch his lips or his throat too closely.

[theconstantsidekick]

Everybody Loves A Clown

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x BestFriend!Reader

Genre: fluff covered angst

Summary: John died a week ago, and Dean's been weird. Sam's been up his ass about it but it finally comes to a head when Y/n decides to talk to him about the whole thing.

a/n: it has an open ending but i can write more if y'all eat this up

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of smoking, romanticisation of smoking, a lot of that yes, sorry. Don't smoke kids

“You were right,” Sam admits.

“About what?” Dean asks from where he stands over the Impala, wrench in hand.

“About me and Dad,” Sam answers with red eyes and a crack in his voice. “I’m sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I’m sorry that I spent most of my life angry with him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him.” He pauses. “So, you’re right. What I’m doing right now, it’s too little… It’s too late.” His lips tremble. There’s a self-deprecating smile on his lips as he continues, “I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I’m not all-right. Not at all.” There’s tears in his eyes now as he stares directly at Dean. “But neither are you. That much I know.” He waits for a second, seeing if Dean might answer, and still knowing that he won’t. “I’ll let you get back to work.” With that he walks off.

Dean doesn’t know what to… do.

He fidgets.

He paces and fidgets.

He clenches his jaw hard enough for it to hurt and then he paces and fidgets some more. 

Until his eyes fall on her.

“The fuck do you want?” He asks her.

In turn for his crude tone and cruder words, he is given half a smile. “Nothing,” she tells him.

“Then what the hell are you doin’ here?” He bites back. 

To her credit, she doesn’t flinch away at his harshness. No, she just smiles wider. 

She gets to her feet from where she was sitting on the steps of the shed behind them and walks over to Dean. She pulls something out of her pocket as she asks, “Asking, if you want a cigarette?”

The lack of pretence throws Dean off completely. “What?” is all that he can bring himself to say.

She shrugs, shaking the pack of menthols in her hands. “You want one?”

Dean, again, is met with the curiously unsolvable puzzle that is Y/N and left struck. “I didn’t know you smoked?” It’s a stupid thing to say, all things considered. But the fact that the answer is stupider consoles him some.

“I don’t!” she exclaims, a little too defensive to be God's honest truth. She pulls one cigarette out of the box. “Do you want one or not?” She throws the box at him. 

Dean catches it on reflex. 

“Fuckin’ menthols,” Dean curses looking at the box, but pulls one out for himself all the same. 

“Might make your swimmers less effective,” she says a little too easily as she lights his cigarette, “but they’re a certified cure to sadness.” She smiles, lighting her own. And standing this close, with the flame from the lighter painting her all shades of yellow, Dean has to physically pull himself away. He has to will himself to take a step back and catch his breath. He gulps and takes a drag. He is clenching his jaw again.

“You should mind what you’re sayin’ while lighting a guy’s cigarette. Talking about my ‘swimmers’ when you’re an inch away from my face?” He shakes his head. “Another guy might take it the wrong way.”

“Or the right way,” she mutters, so jumbled and wrong, Dean’s not even sure he heard it correctly.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” she dismisses him off handedly, a little too easily. 

He decides to let it pass, because again, he’s not sure he heard it right. And if he did, he’s not sure he has the mental wherewithal to be able to deal with that implication. So, he lets it pass. 

Besides, she doesn’t really give him any other option. “You remember how Sam was when Jess died last year?”

“It was last fucking year, yes! ‘Course I remember it,” Dean throws back, exhaling smoke out as he speaks.

She nods, “And?”

He knows what she’s getting at. “Sam was a mess,” he answers the unasked question. “I’m not like that.”

“That’s precisely the point I’m trying to make,” she states, taking a drag. “Not the second half, the first. Sam deals with emotions very openly. He… He lets himself fall apart and crumble. That’s what he’s gonna do now. He’s gonna get sad and he’s going to try and do things that John would have wanted him to do when he was alive. He is going to feel guilty and he is going to be a mess… because he deals with death, like he deals with everything else. He’s not emotionally constipated like you are. He’s normal…” She shakes her head slowly from side to side, reconsidering her words. “Or well, as normal as anyone in this line of work can be.”

Dean takes another puff. “Well, does he have to drag me into it?”

“Yes!” She answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And it fucking isn’t. “Why?!”

“Because he isn’t used to this.”

“What? Death? We just established that—”

She shakes her head at him like he’s being difficult for the sake of it… Maybe he is, but it’s not fair for her to be able to read him that easily. She cuts him off then, with, “No. He’s not used to you being like this.” And the words hit him hard. She must see it too because then she pauses and brings the cigarette to her lips and takes a long drag. “He’s used to the flirty, cocky Dean, who’s an overall dickhead.” When she exhales the smoke, it’s thick and white. Don’t smoke, my ass, Dean thinks to himself. “He’s going to ask you if you need something. He’s going to try to make you feel better and he’s going to keep checking up on you, because he has never seen you—his big brother—bereft before.”

And fuck, if she isn’t talking complete and utter sense. 

He runs a tired hand over his face, cigarette clipped between the index and the middle finger. “And what, you have?”

He’s not very good at people assessing him and his brother emotionally so accurately, okay? He needs to retaliate.

“No,” she replies easily with a smile. “When your mom passed away you were too young, and with everything that followed, I’m not even sure you had the opportunity to deal with it. This might as well be your first time dealing with loss.”

He clicks his tongue and raises his brows briefly in semi-agreement. And having been assess accurately once again, “Well, isn’t that just fucked?”

She nods. “It is.” She brings the cigarette to her lips. “But at least you’ve got me.”

He laughs. 

It’s kind of cruel that he does and he knows it.

But he laughs, because what the fucking hell?

And again, he’s fully aware of his cruelty in this moment and ready for the repercussions. 

What he isn’t ready for is to look at her and see her wearing a smile instead of a hurt look on her face.

“You think you’re gonna save me, sweetheart?” He retorts, adding to his asshole-ry.

She shrugs. “I don’t think I’m meant to save you, Dean,” she says, all too politely while taking a puff from the cigarette. “I just meant…” she looks at him. “I know what you’re going through.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” His words are harsh and cold and painful and mean.

You’ll break her, he thinks. You’ll break her and it’ll hurt worse than anything ever could.

But she doesn’t seem to be breaking. “Your dad died ‘cause of a demon and you feel responsible for it—”

“I don’t feel responsible for it, I am responsible for it. He died to save my life. It was supposed to be me who you salt and burned, not him! It was me who was supposed to be dead, not him!” And he’ll carry that weight with him for the rest of his fucking life. “You have no fucking idea what I’m going through.”

Her eyes are locked to his as she counters without hesitation. “My brother died because of a demon and I feel responsible for it.”

Dean can do nothing but close his eyes and yell out in frustration, “It’s not the same!”

“Isn’t it?” she bites back, standing straight and unmoving in the face of Dean’s rage. She doesn’t let him answer. “It was supposed to be my job. I was supposed to be the one who got possessed by a demon and driven around like a meat-suit. I was supposed to be the one who died in a freakin’ basement like a rat. It was my job, Dean. I was the first call, the second and the third… But I just decided to ignore it. But he didn’t… ‘Cause he’s nicer than I am…” She winces, looking away. She looks hurt for the first time since they began this conversation. And it seems she’d done it to herself. Because then she corrects, “Was nicer…” She takes another drag from her cigarette. “So, fuck you. But I know what you’re going through.”

He bites his lips.

Then he lets his head fall.

Because as much as he’d like to fight her on this, he can’t. 

She’s right… as usual.

He doesn’t know what to say to any of that so he stays quiet. Moreover, he thinks he’s kinda supposed to. Because she doesn’t swear often, even less so at him. So yeah, zipping it might be the right call here.

She takes charge then, as he begins pacing and smoking once more. “This might be your first go around at grief. Sam’s second. But, for once, I’m the season player.” 

When he turns to look at her, she’s smiling.

“Does that mean you’re gonna keep fucking smiling at me like that?” He retaliates, again. He’s already told you the logic behind that one.

“Sorry,” she holds up her hands in surrender. “I don’t mean to. I’m not smiling at you—not really.” She smiles again. “It’s just… It’s just that look on your face. I’ve seen it before.”

“I thought we just established you’ve never seen me like this before?”

“No, not on you,” she clarifies.

“Then?”

“In the mirror,” she tells him honestly. “Every morning for the last three years.”

Fuck him. Fuck this. And fuck everything.

A part of him, a selfless and kind part of him wishes she didn’t get him, wishes she’d rather be hurt at his words than look at him with so much understanding.

But another part of him, the selfish and unkind part of him, is comforted by the fact that at least someone does, in fact, get him. Even more so, he’s comforted by the fact that it’s her.

“So, take it from someone with experience,” she begins then, breaking him out of his mind numbing miserable thoughts. “You’re gonna wanna explode. You’re gonna wanna break something.”

“You got a cure for that, oh experienced one?”

She smiles again. “Yeah, break it.”

“What??”

She shrugs all too easily, taking another drag. “If you can find something you can break, that won’t hurt anyone, that you could ideally fix, then yeah! Break it.”

He stops pacing to look at her and cocks her head. “Will it make me feel better?” He is genuinely curious.

She outright laughs at him then, “No!” She brings her foot up and butt the cigarette on the back of her boot, sending embers falling to the ground like fireworks. “Nothing ever will…” She looks back at him, still smiling, “But it'll help.”

Dean sighs. 

He nods.

And then he throws the cigarette to the ground, steps on it and then walks over to the side. He picks up a crowbar, and then he walks back to the Impala. He grips the crowbar tighter and then he smashes the window. 

Then he starts slamming it into the trunk, over and over and over and over again. It clatters to the ground. 

He keeps at it till there’s a hole in the metal near as big as the one in his heart. 

And when he’s done, he lets the crowbar fall to the ground and pulls the packet of smokes out of his pocket. He grabs a cigarette and places it right between his lips. When he looks up, she’s close to him again, lighter in hand.

She looks at him and he looks at her.

Then she lights his cigarette. “How’d it feel?”

“It didn’t make me feel any better,” he replies, handing her the packet back to her when she smiles at him. “But it helped.”

She nods, and takes the entire packet to her lips, with her teeth she pulls one cigarette out and then lights it, pocketing the packet and lighter in one go. “Look, I know you… You don’t know how to deal with this, and as much as I want to, I can’t really help you with it either but unlike me, Sam’s not gonna get it.”

“I know,” he tells her. Because he knows that his brother means well, but he has a tendency of being too in your face about it. 

She hums in agreement, as if hearing her thoughts. And fuck, if he’s to go by her track record, maybe she can. “You’re gonna wanna get mad, go crazy and lash out. So… I’m suggesting that you do that with me, instead of him.” Her eyes are too fucking kind as she adds, “If you want to get mad, go crazy and lash out—lash out at me, get mad at me.”

Dean can’t fucking breathe.

“Why?” he asks.

“‘Cause he’s grieving too.”

“That the only reason?” he asks, hoping for… well, you know what he’s hoping for. You’re his inner monologue.

She tilts her head with a sweet smile. “You gotta mind what you’re saying, Winchester. Being emotionally vulnerable when you’re an inch away from my face? Another woman might take it the wrong way.”

He can’t help himself.

He snorts.

“Or the right way,” he says then with a smile of his own. 

And fuck it all, her face turns red at the realisation that he’d heard her. 

He loves it so fucking much that he’s not even bummed about her taking a step away from him.

“Asshole,” she curses him, but her heart’s not in it.

“I’ve got one condition though,” he says and watches confusion break onto her face. “For lashing out at you instead of Sam.”

She shakes her head fondly, at his wording. “What is it?”

“You promise to do the same.” It’s the kindest thing he can offer her. His misery, in exchange for hers.

She chuckles at that. Morbid as it may be, their sense of humor was always on par with each other. “Sure,” she says. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

He raises his hand, cigarette still wedged between his fingers, “Shake on it?”

Apparently, that’s the wrong thing to say ‘cause then she makes a disgusted face like the hand he’s offered is covered in snot. 

Slapping it away, she throws the smoke in her hands away and she steps closer. And then hugs him. 

The action catches Dean off-guard. 

It takes a second for his brain and his heart to have a meeting and catch up with each other. And then finally his brain sends the signal out for his to hands drop the cigarette and wrap around her. 

Probably encouraged by him hugging her back, her grip on him tightens. And fuck if that doesn’t thaw Dean’s cold, broken, blackened heart. He happily does the same, snuggling his face into her neck and breathing her in.

They stay like that for a bit, until Dean realises she’s waiting on him, letting him have his fill.

Reluctantly, eventually, Dean lets her go. 

When he does, if she can spot his misty eyes, she doesn’t mention it. 

Instead she says, “Now, hand me the crowbar.”

“Huh?”

“What, you think I don’t wanna break shit?”

[bouncybongfairy]

Study Buddies

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Fem Reader

Summary: Peter Parker is your neighbor and, to put it bluntly, you've had a thing for him since moving in. One night, Peter discovers you're doing a report on the T. fabricii spider. This species is known for bounding and biting the female before sex. Peter decides to give you a live demonstration of this.

Word Count: 2.5k+

TW: Rough Sex, Blood Kink, Bondage, Nasty Smut.

Go to reference blog for smut: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

To say you somewhat keep an eye on the sad man who lives across from you would be an understatement. Part of you felt like it was wrong to invade anyone’s privacy in such a way; the other side didn’t share these same morals. Living on your own, for the first time at 19 was really overwhelming. When you first caught a glimpse of him through the window above your bed, while reading After We Collied by Anna Todd. It had been a long day, School 9:00 am to 12:30 pm then work from 1:00 pm to 9:00 pm. Not to mention the homework and reading assignments from your professors. Even though you had a stack of homework needing attention you were procrastinating by reading. Feeling your stomach tightening and a hot blush creep onto your face. Then your ears started burning, which made you set down the book and get a glass of water. You saw him through the window as you walked back into the bedroom. He was taking his shirt off, setting his hands on his desk, and letting his head low. Either he was covered in a thin layer of sweat or water from the shower covered his body. You could see every muscle in his back and arms under his skin, completely flexed like he was in pain. His hair was brown and shaggy, flopping in front of his face, covering his eyes and nose. Cuts and bruises were scattered around his body, his mouth was hung open. Saliva was making his pink bottom lip glisten from the glow of the laptop on his desk. He was inspecting his own body, looking at all the cuts and abrasions. Out of nowhere, he moves to look directly at your window, which makes you drop onto the ground, hoping he didn’t see you. Your cat was so spooked, he attempted to run under the bed but unfortunately his rolls prevented him from doing so. You crawled over and began soothing him. 

“You don’t think he saw me right?” you asked as you gave him kisses between his ears. You were really hoping he didn’t see you, your hair was wrapped up in a towel for god sakes.

Standing up slowly, you checked to see if he was still there. When you checked, the lights in the bedroom were cut off making it impossible to see anything. After turning the T.V on and getting comfortable in bed again, you realize you can’t stop thinking about him. His body was so long and lanky, yet his muscles were still so defined and toned. You clear off your bed, and try to act like seeing your neighbor indisposed isn't affecting you. The next morning, you’d completely forgotten about last night's events. In fact, you were feeling quite chipper, immediately filling the cat's bowl. It was Friday and you couldn't be more excited to sit around and rot for the weekend. You were currently working at a bug museum that was a couple hours away from your college. It was super convenient not only distance wise but you loved the job. Sure the kids could get sticky and annoying but you liked working with all the insects. Nobody could waterboard this out of you but ever since you started working there, you’d become quite sweet on Spider-Man. It didn’t take long for you to put the pieces of the puzzle together to figure out his identity. Sometimes as you unlocked the door to the apartment building, you’d see a single web hanging from his window. Other times, you’d hear police sirens and then you’d hear the loud screeching of a heavy fire escape window open then close. You started keeping notes of all these little things. Currently being the manager of the Spider section of the museum, it gave you an excuse to research till your fingers bled. Trying to figure out what species of spider he could be. A theory you were itching to prove true or false, was that Spider-Man didn’t have naturally occurring webs but rather man made. A healthy spider doesn’t normally have a limit to the silk it can produce. When you watched him fight, he would eventually stop using his webs and rely more on crawling or jumping. You had a notebook where you noted all these little observations and ideas. 

After taking the subway to school, you rushed to get to your lecture on time. Calculus and Zoology were the last two classes of the week. Many of your peers had dropped the class by this point but that didn’t bother you one bit. It only meant more attention for you, not to mention the teachers became less… picky when it came to assignments. Hell there were times when you thought your English professor used your class as a rant session. You were praying the professors would take it easy on the class, you know… get into that Friday spirit a little early; they didn’t. As pitiful as it was to admit you were actually looking forward to your Zoology assignment; a research paper of an animal of your choice. As sad as that sounded, you really were excited about it, at this point it was like a special interest. 

Work was quite slow, only a couple people wandered in and left once they realized it wasn’t a themed cafe. This made you chuckle every time before turning back to your laptop. Honestly, you hated it a lot more than it was slow. When it was busy, it distracted you from being on your feet for 8 hours. Before leaving, you grabbed a book on the spider you chose for your report: Thanatus fabricii. The owner ended up closing early for the day which you didn’t mind at all. Practically skipping to the taxi you’d just hailed down. It was coming down so hard that you were practically soaked by the time you made it inside the building. Hair dripping and makeup beginning to feel sticky. It took you a couple times to shove the door open due to the weather making them expand and warp. Fat-Boy came and greeted you while opening the door. Meowing like he’s never eaten before in his life. You giggled at his nervous pacing while scooping a couple cups into his bowl. Setting your bags on the counter and pulling out your laptop, book and notebooks, typing at the rough draft of your essay. Suddenly Fat-Boy began clawing at the bedroom door which prompted you to go investigate. Walking into your bedroom and opening the door you shiver from how cold the air is. After flicking the lights on, you immediately notice the window was open. You rush over to close it, luckily there wasn’t too much water damage from the rain. Your stomach was doing summer salts, especially because you know it was closed before you left. Running back into the kitchen, trying to find a knife to arm yourself with. You could practically hear your heart beating in your ears. Suddenly something drops from the ceiling, causing you to scream. Immediately you recognized him as Peter, eyes dark and brows furrowed. He slowly started moving closer, you were frozen in fear. In complete shock, your flight or fight reflex is fully engaged. You thought he was coming towards you but instead, he went over to your computer and notes. Every once in a while his eyes would widen or he would chuckle. As scared as you were, you couldn’t help but take in all his little details. The cuts on his face or the bruising under his eyes. 

“I knew you were a horny little freak but I didn’t realize how nasty you really were,” he said, breaking you out of the dissociation you fell into. Still frozen in fear, you held up the knife a little higher, hands still shaking. 

“You’ve been studying me?” he asked, using a web to take the knife from your grip.

“I’m honestly impressed. I originally thought you were watching me because you wanted proof of my identity. I didn’t realize you were stalking me because of an infatuation,” he said, coming closer. 

You booked it, running towards the front door attempting to pry it open. Once you finally manage to rip it open, a web flies past you. Slamming the door closed with a loud bang. Immediately you run to the bedroom, knowing the fire escape is there. By the time you reached the window, he was already right behind you. He grabbed your arm and turned you around so you were facing him. His grip was strong, stone locked onto both arms. This was the first time you’d ever gotten a good look at his face. He looked like he was fraying at the edges. Eyes with pupils so wide they looked black, both eyebrows had splits in them. Bruising around his eyes and spread around his face. 

“I saw you’re doing a report on the T. fabricii spider, have you finished your research about how they mate?” he asked, you just stared at him. Ashamed that you were finding this erotic. The entire time you’d been watching him, he’d been doing the same. Made you feel inferior, like you weren’t as slick as you once thought. He wasn’t pleased with your silence and shook you a little to break you out of that trance. 

“No,” you said weakly, he let go of one of your arms and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. 

“They bite and bound the females before mating to avoid being eaten. Doesn’t that seem… efficient,” he said chuckling slightly. 

You were unsure of how to react, his energy becoming harder and harder to read. Originally you thought he only had violent intentions due to him discovering your infatuation. Knowing that his intentions were more sexual made you feel less stressed or scared. He let go of your arms and moved his hands to your waist then to your hips. You shivered as goosebumps began to prickle along your skin. Lowering his head a bit, he runs his lips over your ear and down your neck. Your back arches involuntarily, drawing a deep breath in from the sensation. 

“I like touch starved whores,” he growled into your ear, picking you up and using his body to press you against the wall, “getting wet from the littlest things, like me breathing down your neck or gripping your arm a little too tight,” he said into your ear. 

Not being able to take the build-up anymore, you smash your lips against his. The kiss was rough, continuously biting and nipping at your lip. Your mouth started to taste metallic, making you pull away. He didn’t let you, tangling his fist in your hair. Moving the two of you from the wall to the bed. The way he picked you up and threw you around made you feel weightless. Completely at the mercy of his strength, you welcomed it nervously. Teeth chattering and hands shaking, he was sucking hickies on your neck to the point where it was hurting. Starting to squirm a bit, he secures your wrists to the head board with webbing. Doing the same to your feet, completely paralyzing you. Instead of pulling your clothes off he rips them from your body. His strength and pure brute force was daunting, shredding fabric like it was paper. After undressing himself, he crawls back up. You couldn’t hold back a couple gasps and moans, feeling the tip of his length trace up your leg then inner thigh. He looked angry and focused solely on you. He rested his elbows by your ears, not caring that he was pulling the fuck out of your hair. This caused you to squirm even more, in reaction to this he sank his teeth into your shoulder. 

You cried out in pain as he slowly started adding more pressure to his bite. The hot burning sensation causes more pleasure than it should. Trying to aid the aching feeling from the lack of touch, you rub your thighs together. Spread your wetness all over your thighs. Becoming irritated with your lack of patients, he uses his knees to separate your legs. Letting go of your shoulder to sink his teeth into your neck. Now biting harder and more often; moving from your neck to your chest and other shoulder. You were beginning to foggy, face bright red and flushed. Once he was satisfied with his work, he turned his attention back to you. Grabbing you by the jaw to see the state of you. He practically moaned when seeing how glazed over your eyes were. Rubbing his shaft in between your folds, broke you out of this trance. Bucking your hips up, trying to create more friction between the two of you. Not liking how much control you had over your movements, he began binding you up tighter to the bed. Once he was confident in your restriction, he started pushing himself inside you. He was grunting and cursing under his breath, your legs being tied together making you that much tighter. He was big and you could feel yourself stretch around him. He buried his face into your shoulder, practically panting as he fucked in and out of you. The overstimulation being caused by the pain and pleasure simultaneously was driving you crazy. His arms were wrapped around your neck, almost suffocating you as he pounded frantically. Your moans and cries were strangled and garbled. A mixture of sweat and tears were running down your face. Being completely bound and restricted was making your stomach cramp with frustration. Unable to touch him or not being able to match his energy. 

He slowed down for a second and turned to make eye contact with you. His mouth was covered in blood from how often and forcefully he was biting you. Mouth hanging open and his face glistened in sweat. He catches your lips with his, indicating a sloppy kiss. He’s completely slowed his thrusts down to an agonizing pace. All your frustration and over stimulation coming to a head, you bite down on his lip as hard as you can. He pulls his head back and looks down at you with a shocked expression. 

“Faster,” you beg, accidentally spitting a bit of blood onto his face. He smirks down at you, before wrapping his hands around your neck. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re in any position to be making demands,” He growled at you before slamming his dick inside you. 

He was now using his hands around your throat to support his weight. It didn’t matter to you because he was now pounding into you at full force. Almost showing that he was as frantic to reach his orgasm as you were. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting your body go limp. Sucking in strangled breaths, he paid no regard to this to catch up at his current pace. You were getting close, your walls pulsating around him. Your pussy was contracting around him as you came. Black dots appear in your vision as you ride out that high. Seeing and feeling you cum was enough to send him over the edge. Rutting and spurting into you, completely blissed out as he came. Immediately after he was done he didn’t bother letting you free from the webbing. You were too exhausted and braindead to care.

[kikyoupdates]

Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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“Not a real human,” Aizawa mumbles weakly. “So… what are you trying to say?” 

“To clarify, I don’t mean that she was conceived artificially,” Dr. Iwase says. “There are plenty of parents who employ various methods in order to have children, and all of those are perfectly acceptable, thanks to medicine’s advancements. But when I say that [Name] isn’t a real human, I mean that she was not conceived, but rather, created. Time and time again, she’s said that her very first memory is waking up in front of the man who harmed her, no? And while it’s true that children often experience infantile amnesia to some extent, it still wouldn’t make sense for her to have absolutely zero memories preceding that event. Which is why I believe… [Name] was created by that man, who is presumably a scientist, and she took her very first breath on the same day you met her.” 

Aizawa swallows. Right. He had a feeling that this was where the conversation was headed. 

“She was created just recently,” Dr. Iwase continues. “Which would mean that she never experienced the gestation stage, nor infantile development, as ordinary humans do. It would also explain why her medical data is so puzzling to me. Considering everything we know about her, and how strange her circumstances are, I can’t think of any other explanation, no matter how far-fetched it may seem.” 

“So, what then?” Aizawa frowns. God, he feels like he’s going to be sick. It’s true that for a while now, deep down, he’s felt like you were quite different from the other kids. But nothing could have prepared him for such a harrowing revelation. 

“[Name] was created,” Dr. Iwase goes on, frowning slightly. “And… I still don’t understand how that man transplanted a Quirk. I’ve never heard of Quirks being donated from one person to the next. But [Name] said that he mentioned something about wanting her to be durable, and that alone tells me that she wasn’t created to fill the role of a child. If that were the case, he could have used virtually any other means to conceive her. The fact that he artificially engineered a human can only mean that whatever his intentions were, they can’t possibly have been good. After all, why would she need such a powerful regeneration Quirk? It’s almost as if he intended for her to get hurt. Perhaps, and it sickens me to even suggest it, but… perhaps she was meant to be used as a weapon.” 

Aizawa slams his fist against the wall without even realizing it, and Dr. Iwase flinches, visibly taken aback.

“Shit,” Aizawa curses. “Sorry, I’m… I’m just really pissed off right now. I just can’t understand what kind of maniac would do something like that. It doesn’t matter how she came to exist. The fact of the matter is that she does exist. She’s living and breathing, just like the rest of us, and she’s a kid, for crying out loud! I don’t care if her circumstances are unique. You can’t look at her and tell me she’s not a real little girl.” 

Dr. Iwase nods, then offers a sad smile. “Yes. Of course, I agree. [Name] behaves just like any other child would. Her background doesn’t make her any lesser than her peers. When I said she wasn’t a real human, I was just trying to stress that her existence came about artificially, rather than naturally. But she is alive and sentient, just like you and I are. It goes without saying that she needs to be protected.” 

“Artificially engineering a human,” Aizawa scowls. “Doesn’t that violate some code of ethics? People can’t be playing God like that. Not to mention that whoever created her most likely had malicious intentions, and she’s already admitted to being hurt by him. I swear, when I find this lowlife…” 

Aizawa withdraws his fist from the wall and clenches it even tighter. His knuckles are bright red, and a few spots of blood stain his skin. He slowly drops his fist to his side, but all the while, this entire body is shaking.

He’s a hero. All his life, he’s fought to protect other people. It’s a valiant, noble pursuit, even though he would certainly never refer to himself using such pretentious terms. 

But here’s the thing. Heroes don’t kill. No matter how dangerous the villain, no matter the danger that they face, heroes must always strive to apprehend criminals and bring them back to the police, rather than ending their lives outright. 

Aizawa is a hero, so it goes without saying that he must adhere to those rules. 

And yet, whenever it concerns you, it’s almost as if all the rules go flying straight out the window. 

The man who did this to you… the absolute scumbag that had the nerve to think of you as a tool… 

Aizawa has already made up his mind. 

If he ever crosses paths with that sicko, he’s going to make him wish he was dead. 

“Whoever is responsible for [Name]’s existence is no doubt a criminal wanted on several heavy charges,” Dr. Iwase nods gravely. “He won’t go unpunished. Although finding him will be a trickier matter, since we don’t know his name, or his general location, and as of now, a vague physical description is the most that we have. Perhaps more details will come to [Name] over time. Either way, I’m sure the police will want to investigate this matter, as it seems highly dangerous. Artificially engineering humans, and not only that… but transplanting Quirks. This can’t possibly bode well.” 

That much is obvious. Aizawa has never heard of Quirks being given to people. He always thought they could only ever manifest naturally. Perhaps this deranged scientist discovered a way to pull it off after years of research. It sounds difficult to believe, but considering everything else that’s been discussed here today, it certainly isn’t impossible. 

“At the very least, I suppose we finally have a bit more information to go off now,” Dr. Iwase sighs. “You should contact the police and fill them in on what we discussed. Give my contact information as well, so that I can weigh in and tell them my theory. It’s possible that I’m completely off the mark, but if nobody’s come looking for [Name] after all this time… it’s either this, or perhaps, her parents have already passed away.” 

Aizawa shakes his head. “No. What you’re saying makes sense. And supposing her parents really are deceased, it’s still strange how she claims she never knew them. Everything happening here is far too abnormal. I think, despite the initial confusion, we’ve finally figured out the truth. Even if the truth is hard to swallow.” 

Dr. Iwase nods again, still with that tinge of sadness in his eyes. It really is unfortunate that this is the reality that’s been thrust upon you. Details aside, you are a kid. You think and act just like one. You’re innocent and carefree, and when you smile, Aizawa swears the whole world gets brighter. 

It’s up to him to protect that radiant smile of yours. 

“Thank you again for meeting with me,” Aizawa bows. “This was a necessary discussion, and I’m glad we were at least able to clear some things up. If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking [Name] home now.” 

“It’s no problem. I wish I could say that the worst part is over, but… it seems like this battle has only just begun.” 

“That’s fine,” Aizawa says. He narrows his dark eyes. “No matter how long it takes, and no matter how difficult it is, I’ll do everything in my power to get that bastard locked up. Someone needs to teach him that lives aren’t meant to toy with.” 

He bows once more, then re-enters the room, where you’ve been waiting obediently this whole time. 

“What happened?” you frown. “I heard a loud noise coming from outside. Did someone get hurt?” 

Aizawa quickly hides his red, aching knuckles behind his back. “I just tripped,” he lies. “And I bumped into the wall a bit hard.” 

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” 

You hop off the exam table and walk over to him, peering up through wide, concerned eyes. Aizawa thinks it’s adorable how you worry about him. You’ve got so much on your plate as it is, and yet, you always seem to be putting others first. 

You’ll be an amazing hero. 

“I’m okay,” Aizawa reassures. He crouches down next to you, then uses his uninjured hand to ruffle your hair. “I just spoke to the doctor, and he said you’re still perfectly healthy, so we can leave now. And since you’ve been so patient with all these hospital visits, I’ll make sure to get you as many burgers as you want today.”

It only takes a second for you to explode from excitement. 

“Really?!” you exclaim, and you start jumping up and down, unable to contain yourself. “Oh my gosh, it’s a burger fest! I’m gonna get ten, no—fifteen burgers! And you already promised, so no take-backs!” 

Aizawa chuckles softly. “No take-backs. Today, you can have your fill.” 

There’s a good chance you’ll throw up from overeating, but he supposes every kid has to learn that the hard way. As long as you’re happy, then he’s happy too. 

Either way, there’s no doubt about it now. You have no family to return to, and regardless of how long the investigation goes on for, it’s highly unlikely anyone will ever come looking for you. But that’s okay. Just because you’re different from the other kids doesn’t mean you’ll have to suffer for it. Aizawa will make sure that your life is filled to the brim with joy, excitement, and everything a kid could ever want. 

From now on, he will be your family.

A few days ago, something truly horrible happened. 

You threw up while eating your beloved burgers. 

But how? How could they betray me like this? 

To put it simply, you are flabbergasted. You always believed that burgers could do no wrong. And yet, after stuffing your face with countless of them, which was pretty much the best moment of your life, you were suddenly seized by a violent sensation in your stomach, and you ended up having to purge into a toilet. 

“This is why you need to pace yourself,” Aizawa said. “I let you have a bunch of burgers, but you see what happened? If you eat too much of anything, you’ll get sick. From now on, be more aware of your own limits, okay? But I guess I’m also to blame, since I let you keep eating despite knowing it wasn’t going to end well.” 

It was a harrowing experience, and even that is an understatement. But you suppose you’ve learned an important lesson.

Even a burger—the most amazing food in the world—can be a double-edged sword if not wielded carefully. 

But mostly, you learned that you don’t like to throw up. It was icky. 

Anyways, you’re back in school now. The whole class was given several days off from school because of the hostage situation at the museum. The kids were given some space to rest and spend much-needed time with their families. Even now, a good deal of your classmates are absent, and you have no doubt they’re still recovering from the traumatic event. The teacher surely understands, and despite the noticeably smaller class size, she does her best to keep the atmosphere lively and upbeat. 

“Okay, everyone!” she beams. “For today’s art class, I’m going to split you into pairs and have you paint your partner’s portrait!” 

I hope I get paired up with Izuku.

You turn hopefully towards the freckled boy’s desk, and based on the way he keeps shyly glancing your way, you get the feeling that he’s thinking the same thing. 

There aren’t a ton of kids in class today, so the odds are actually on your side. Although truthfully, you wouldn’t really mind being paired up with anyone. Well, anyone but—

“[Name], you’re going to be working with Bakugou today.” 

Your jaw drops open, and the very next moment, Katsuki’s jaw drops open as well. 

“Hell no!” he cries out. “Why do I have to work with that idiot?!” 

“Bakugou, stop it,” the teacher chides. “It isn’t nice to speak to your classmates that way. If you keep saying rude things, I’m going to have to put you in time-out.” 

Katsuki grits his teeth, clearly mortified beyond words. Nobody likes being put in time-out. It’s humiliating. You know this because it happened to you once when one of the kids fooled you into drawing something inappropriate on the blackboard. 

So, regretfully, it doesn’t look like you’ll be getting to work with Izuku for today’s activity. It’s a shame, but you suppose it’s not the end of the world. Besides, you’re used to dealing with Katsuki’s nonsense by now. 

Everyone is given a big piece of paper, and a handful of paints. Katsuki lets out a displeased huff as he sits down in front of you and picks up his paintbrush. Since you’ve never actually painted before, and since you need to get a good look at his face to do his portrait properly, you proceed to just stare at him.

“What’s your problem?” he snaps. “Quit staring at me and start painting, moron!” 

“But I need to memorize your face,” you insist. “So that I can paint you properly. I want to do a good job. I’m also not really sure what to paint, since your expression keeps changing. But I guess I should probably just make you look angry.” 

“Asshole,” Katsuki mutters, but he drops the issue quickly enough and gets to work. He must be trying to get it over with as fast as possible. 

Katsuki isn’t normally quiet, but since he’s so focused on his task, you’re graced with a blissful period of silence. The whole classroom is silent, for that matter. All you can hear is the sound of brushes dipping into paint and creating occasional brushstrokes across the paper. You’re not talking either, and in fact, your tongue is poking out of the corner of your mouth as you occasionally glance at Katsuki, as a reference for your painting.

Finally, you set your brush down.

“Okay,” you say. “I think I’m done.” 

Katsuki sets his brush down too, then crosses his arms. “So am I. Well, go ahead. Show me what you painted. There’s no way it’ll be better than mine, though.” 

You look down at your painting, and honestly? You feel pretty confident about how you did. This was your very first time, after all, but it almost felt as natural as breathing. Perhaps you’re secretly an artist in the making. Oh! Maybe you can be a hero-artist! Assuming there’s even such a thing. 

You’re giggling to yourself, off in your own little world, and Katsuki rolls his eyes before reaching out to grab your paper in his hands. 

And then, he blinks. 

“What the hell… is this shit?!” 

He lifts up the paper, and based on how he’s mashing his teeth in a fit of rage, you suppose he doesn’t quite get the appeal. Silly boy. He doesn’t even know true art when it’s staring him right in the face. Or—when it is his face, for that matter. 

“It’s you,” you say simply, then you purse your lips. “I thought I made it look pretty accurate. Look, the painting of you is frowning and everything. Just like you are in real life.” 

“In what world is this ugly painting supposed to be me?!” 

Katsuki appears incredibly offended, although you’re not sure why. He makes ugly faces all the time. You figured that painting was the spitting image of him.

You roll your eyes. “Okay, well let’s see what you painted, since you’re apparently so much better than me. But if it’s worse than mine, I don’t want to hear you whining anymore.” 

You reach for his piece of paper, and admittedly, you’re not expecting much. Katsuki likes to brag a lot, after all. He’s probably just being arrogant like usual.

But it turns out that he has good reason to be arrogant.

One look at his painting suddenly makes you feel incredibly self-conscious about the garbage you’d prided yourself on just moments ago. 

“This is… me?” you blink. You study the painting carefully, and you can’t help the way your fingers rise to pat your face in disbelief. “Wow, it’s… it’s really good! I look so pretty!” 

Katsuki leans back in his chair and scowls. “Obviously. I told you mine would be better. If I’m gonna do something, I make sure to do it properly. Ugh. Still can’t believe I had to get paired up with you, of all people…” 

He’s bitching nonstop, as always, but you’re far too preoccupied with the painting to pay him any mind. 

It looks really, really nice. Katsuki has a dirty mouth, and he’s rude to the other kids—most notably Izuku—but you have to give credit where it’s due. He’s smart, has a pretty strong Quirk, and seems to be good at pretty much everything. 

He isn’t a nice guy, and that’s the main reason why you don’t respect him. But… there are certainly some things that are worthy of admiration.

And this is one of them.

“Hehe,” you grin, unable to tear your eyes off the painting. “I love it. It’s so cute. Katsuki, you did a really good job. I’m sorry for bragging earlier. You’re right that your painting is way better than mine.” 

“...huh?” 

Katsuki frowns. You really are weird. Most people would hate to be proven wrong, so why is it that you’ve got that stupid smile plastered across your face? Why is it that you don’t feel the slightest bit insecure, even when things don’t go your way? 

Why is it that… the longer he stares at your smile, the funnier his chest feels? 

“I wanna take this painting home!” you exclaim. “To show Aizawa and Mic. I’m sure they’ll love it too. Hey, do you think the teacher will let me? She will, right? I really hope so.” 

Katsuki doesn’t respond. He’s too busy avoiding your gaze, and for some reason, his cheeks are getting ridiculously hot.

You lean across the table slightly. “Hm? Katsuki, your face is really red all of a sudden. Are you sick? If you have a fever, you should probably—”

“Shut up!” 

Maybe he really does have a fever, because for a moment there, he actually thought you looked pretty. 

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[eat-limes-bitches]

I Will Always Come When You Call

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY:  When reader accidentally calls Bucky, he comes running to find out what’s wrong.

WARNINGS: ANGST, mentions of depression, fluff

Word Count: 1168

A/N: I disappeared from posting because, well, I had no will to write, I was in a rut. This is purely self soothing at this point because this is what I need right now. I promise that I have updates for the series soon, I just needed this first. 

Enjoy!! <3

Dividers by Rookthorne

It was the same feeling, day in, day out, the constant numbing sadness for a loss that never happened. The monsters that emerged from the deepest parts of her mind and wrapped her consciousness in toxic thoughts. People always said the same things, “Get some air, it won’t do you any good being cooped up.” “Take a break, you’re just burnt out from working too hard.” That was her problem, she wasn’t working. She couldn’t. It's hard to do anything when you barely have the will to get out of bed, let alone work. She stared at the glowing numbers from the clock on her nightstand, indicating she was, once again, still awake at an unreasonable hour. She glanced at the dark screen of her phone that was resting on the bed next to her. Why was it there again? Oh, right. She was gonna call him. The corner of her lips twitched upwards at the thought. Bucky had always been there, they had been there for each other. After everything that they went through together, with Thanos, the Flag Smashers, his amends, they were together through it all and now that everything had calmed down, she was struggling to stay afloat. Unlocking her phone, her thumb hovered over the call button. What was she gonna say? “Hey Buck, I know it's 2:30 in the morning and nothing is wrong but I need you.” She shook her head. It was stupid, if either of them were to call the other at this time it should be him. She had no reason and no explanation as to why she was feeling this way. 

Letting out a groan she leaned back and thumped her head against the headboard closing her eyes as she sunk a little deeper into her mind. “Doll? Are you ok?” Her eyes snapped open and down to her phone. Shit, she accidentally hit the dial. “Y/N are you ok? You’re worrying me sweets.” She shook her head slightly, “Yeah, sorry Buck.” She quickly hung up, cutting off whatever it was that Bucky was about to say, and throwing her phone to the other side of the bed. She hated feeling like this, this hopelessness that seemed to seep in through every pore on her skin and settle deep within her bones, like how a chill sets in after getting caught in the pouring rain. She was so deep within her mind that she didn’t notice the man that entered her flat. She didn’t hear him calling out to her and asking her where she was. Eventually the door to her bedroom opened, causing her to snap out of her trance in alarm, only to relax again when she saw Bucky standing there with a worried look on his face. 

“God, there you are. You scared me to death, sweets.” He murmured as he crossed the room to sit next to her on the bed. She stared at him with a puzzled expression on her face, tracing her eyes across his features. His hair was messy, shoes missing, probably at the front door, dressed in a pair of sweats and a dark blue t-shirt that highlighted to worried look in his eyes. She continued to stare for a moment before she finally spoke, “You came..” Bucky blinked, confusion coloring his features as he replied, “Of course I did, you called.” She froze at his words, surprise seeping into her eyes as she looked at him, trying to decide if he was serious when he broke the silence, “What’s going on, darling?” She shook her head, looking away from him, “I- I honestly don’t know, and that’s the problem.” She melted as he placed an arm around her, pulled her into his side, a gentle sign for her to continue. “It’s just- god I’m not okay.” She leaned to rest her head against his shoulder as she struggled to find the words, “I.. I’m just not myself. My jaw hurts from grinding my teeth, I can’t sleep at night, not because I’m not tired, no, I’m exhausted. It’s like I’m too tired to sleep. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time. I’m spiraling, and I couldn’t even begin to tell you why.” Once she finished, Bucky let out a sigh and pulled her further into his embrace, as if holding her would shield her mind from the toxic thoughts that tried to take her from him. “Doll, you should have told me sooner.” He scolded softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She shrugged, “I didn’t want to worry or bother you. You’ve come so far in your own healing that I didn’t want to drag you down with me.”

 Bucky shook his head, “Y/N, look at me.” He placed hid flesh hand under her chin to raise her gaze so that she was looking at him, “You mean the whole fucking world to me, do you know that?” She tried to look away as color flooded her cheeks but he wasn’t having it, “I think of you every day. You’re my first thought when I wake up and the last one before I try to go to sleep. I want to help you, and before you even start with the whole, ‘you don’t have to help me’ bullshit, I want to help you.” He paused, moving the hand under her chin to thread his fingers through her hair as he looked over her weary face. “You don’t have to do this all on your own, my love, let me help.” 

His words were a soft gentle caress against the opened wounds on her soul, something she didn’t realize she needed until she had a taste of it, and with the sugary sweet words filling the holes, the negative began to suffocate, trying desperately to escape but when entrapped in his honey coated words, they just died out. She nodded her head before she spoke, “Ok…ok.” “What do you need darling, not tomorrow, not in an hour, right now, what do you need?” Bucky asked. She traced the intricate lines on his vibranium hand that was situated around her middle before she spoke, “Can you just, hold me? Just for a little bit? I haven’t been able to sleep well for three day a-” Bucky cut her off by pulling her to lie down with him, tucking her head into his chest before reaching over and turning off the lamp on the nightstand. He wrapped his arms back around her and pressed kisses along her hairline until he reached her ear where he whispered, “Get some sleep sweets. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Wrapped up in Bucky’s warmth it wasn’t long before her eyes began to grow heavy, still she managed to move her head back to look over Bucky’s face as she whispered, “I still can’t believe you came.” Bucky leaned forward pressing his forehead against hers replying quietly, “I will always come when you call.”

[34saveme34]

alright, today's episode

for one AMAZING !!! absolutely wonderful

I think SMG4 is truly at its best when it takes the characters' struggles and emotions seriously, even despite some goofy aspects. Which honestly I think gives it its unique charm, something you don't really get in too many places

in some ways it reminds me of the heaviness of 2020-2022 era (also my favourite) so I'M JUMPING IN JOY YAYYYY!!! Now about 3's alcoholi-

I'm so happy we've got to see more of Karen's backstory!!

I can't believe she was homeless!!! but it really does make sense when you consider everything. Of course, finding a job for an ex assassin is hard, it doesn't just come by that easily, tbh, searching for a job in general is PAIN

also this was the moment I knew this episode would be sad. like. when you look at the list, most of these are understandable or at least in some way fit Karen and in general the very real weight of life. living is expensive

also the children were so good too and I'm so happy they show how much all 3 of them actually love their mom so much, it's very sweet

and Mario was so sweet this episode too!! You would usually expect him to be immature about this stuff but he was so nice and helpful this time. There's something so sweet about Mario putting aside his usual impulses to be helpful. It's like he feels the tone of the episode and acts accordingly. Like yeah he was still a goofy guy but not a careless one. Like he was so ready to beat up the new CEO guy. tbh I wonder if that guy will come back later, probably not

now uh.

so the moment I saw him pick up the walkie talkie from the trash, the lingering, the was he picks it up, the noise it makes, that's when I knew "Oh."

Now.

He.... okay so. This man- he wouldn't say it like that. I feel like there's something to the idea that the walkie talkie affected him. Or the tone of the episode.

"mission accepted" is just so not Mario core so it makes me believe that he isn't- entirely himself? or god, how do I- like I said he's the embodiment of tonal shifting, he's really good at it, built for it in fact.

"Mission accepted" is like. mission........ like....... I saw someone saying it could be Karen's old boss, which I'm actually more inclined to believe than Marty. BUT I do think Marty and the Boss are in cahoots.

also definitely not Puzzles, he's god damn locked up. Let him fester just a little more in his delusions, it'll make him even worse <3

honestly at most I only see it being Marty's and/or the Boss's goal to break Puzzles out to use him for their own gain but even that's a stretch if I'm being real. Puzzles, especially now, is incredibly selfish. And had been betrayed as well. I don't think it's just that easy to make him get on your side.

anyways my prediction is Karen Mario vs that boss and Marty

good parralels for both, with the whole "I used to work for you and I never wish to go back"

or. another Mario antagonist moment, who knows, I don't

[a-simple-imagine]

Tear apart the heart

synopsis: you just watched your girlfriend die right in front of you

pairing: victoria neuman x reader

words: 1k+

WARNINGS - themes of grief, blood, death, mention of body pieces

she promised you the world and instead, you got the most disgusting makeshift lab you ever had the displeasure of stepping inside. but it really didn't matter anymore.

that heavy feeling in your chest is brand spanking new. you search your brain for a comparison but it's like nothing you've ever felt before. it's almost suffocating. blocking off the one thing keeping you alive right now. air. gross, dingy air that was so polluted with chemicals and old take out, it almost knocked you sick but now a hint of copper joined this mix. an unwelcome change. a tickle against your cheek. you reach up to remove the tear. only it is red as it slips from the tip of your finger down your hand and to your wrist. you wanted to believe it was fake even as it trickled down your forearm. so desperate for none of this to be real. but deep down you know it is. it's blood. her blood. and maybe the droplets that adorn your skin should have been actually tears but they just never came. did that make youan evil person? undoubtedly. everyone cries when someone dies. it's like the first thing that's expected. but you just couldn't. what you felt inside wasn't sadness per se. or maybe it was. you couldn't tell. it didn't feel like when you were normally about to cry. this felt all-consuming. you felt rigid in this moment. unable to process anything. This wasn't ordinary. most people didn't watch the person they loved get ripped in two. weren’t drenched in tiny pieces of their girlfriend. it felt comical in a way. perhaps that was why you were having such a hard time acknowledging it. people don't just get ripped in half. this wasn't a comic book or some mid-budget horror film which gaineda startling cult following because they used practical effects instead of CGI for the gore but they didn't overdo it with the gore either. it was tasteful. no. this wasn't tasteful. you don't know what this is. you can hardly even look at her. you want to go back. dear god. you shouldn't have given in so easily.

"did you order the food?" you question, glancing up from her laptop that you had been playing on.

"What?" a brief blank expression that settles into a gentle smile. the kind of smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "no. sorry."

"Can I order something?" a silent nod puts you to work and decides what to have. "who were you talking to then- on the phone?"

"Hughie,"

the name alone forms a pit in your stomach. you used to think so fondly of him. you'd met him a great many times but that was before. "you can't be serious,"

"Just hear me out"

"no, Victoria- that man has tried to kill you multiple times," you express. "what could you possibly want from him?"

"out," a simple word. She cares not to elaborate as she walks closer to the kitchen aisle. taking her laptop, she spins it around to face her. "so what are we eating?"

"what do you mean out?"

she shrugs. "I want out. out of everything. I just- I can't do this anymore."

your heart beats a little faster. out of everything? out of this? that wouldn't explain the conversation with Hughie. although they used to be close friends. "what?"

"he's gonna help me get out of this mess," she expresses. "I think I wanted this for a while. like genuinely wanted it not just because of what was happening around me or stan or whatever. but now it's just not something that makes any sense."

"Vic,"

"It's pathetic really but I'm just never gonna be more than a puppet. and that's not what I want- I don't wanna be under anyone's control, y'know?"

"Sure," a lopsided smile with a hint of shrug. you didn't get it. felt like a few pieces of the puzzle were missing. a small sigh leaves her painted lips as she walks over to you. your eyes trail after her until you're staring into all too familiar eyes. usually so steely but today they possess a flicker of something different.

"Hughie is gonna help me get out. if I do this- if I help them bring down homelander then I just get to live my life away from all the bullshit. I realised all I want now is to be with Zoe. and with you too."

"Are we just skipping the part where he and his friends tried to murder you? how can we trust them?" you wonder what she can see in your eyes. the fear of what's to come. the joy of knowing she was willing to give up everything to be with you? That was a crazy thought. a crazy thing to admit. Victoria was gentle with you and loving but this felt like a different level of vulnerability. one you never saw from her.

"I'm not asking you to trust them," she holds your gaze, firm and pleading. "I'm asking you to trust me."

she had never steered you so wrong before. on shaky legs, you push yourself up off the dusty floor. brushing yourself off; little did it help. your heart races with your decision as 5 people - mostly strangers- surround you. you weren't a supe. you had no means to protect yourself here. they don't seem like they're gonna kill you as you turn around to find Hughie amongst them. he was covered in blood too. your girlfriend's blood. it was almost strange how fitting it was. That pit that once formed was now a silent rage as you stared at him. the man who Victoria trusted enough to come here. the man who promised her protection. the man who leads her to her death. he just stares back. a look of sympathy perhaps- no, pity. you take a deep breath and turn away in search of the other person you arrived with. zoe lies unconscious off to one side. at least you hope she's just unconscious. or maybe you didn't? what was a worse experience for her? you slowly make your way over to her. nobody stops you. nobody makes a move. you know you can't carry her so you just sit down beside her. a gentle hand on her side. you don't want her to be alone when she finds out her mother is dead.

[grinnames]

RTV Tour Part 3.5: "Cognitive Dissonance"

Grinnames POV

@rtv-puzzlevision-studios

Follow up to these posts: Part 3, Part 3.5

PREV

NEXT

Hoooo boy, here we go...

Flashback...

TV News Reporter: ...so if you see this man, do not hesitate and call the authorities immediately.

The TV flashed a grainy picture of the mad meme guardian, SMG4, who had reportedly suddenly gone crazy and nearly killed his friend Mario.

Grinnames was stunned, and her thoughts immediately began to race, trying to make sense of what she just heard.

What the hell…? she thought. How does that make any sense?! Isn’t he aware of what that would do to this world?! Maybe he really has gone mad… so crazy that he can’t perform his role as a meme-guardian… To think that the world almost ended. The hell…

End Flashback.

...

PRESENT TIME:

“HOLY HECK YOU JUST SHOT HIM!”

Grinnames would be pretty stunned right now and starts freaking out because SMG4, public enemy Number 1, had just appeared and shot Mr. Puzzles with an EMP. She’s not sad about it, because she already had reservations about him. She was just really shocked and didn't know what to do. Her ribbons pull into a defensive position.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? ARE YOU CRAZY? HOLY HECK MAYBE YOU ACTUALLY ARE CRAZY-”

“ALSO WHAT IS THAT WEAK LOOKING WEAPON??! WHY DON’T YOU HAVE A REAL GUN?!”

 But when the guards start pulling weapons on SMG4, she hears the voice in her head, calling louder this time:

We have to help him!

Why should she even help him? He was supposed to be a madman that betrayed his friends. She should not even get involved. She should just let the guards arrest him.

What she did know is that she had worked hard to build this life for herself. She was finally happy and peaceful. She refused to go back there. Never again. Then why did this feel so wrong?? Why was she feeling so conflicted?!

Time seemed to move in slow motion. Now with the initial shock having worn off, Grinnames got a good look at the meme guardian. She looked harder at Four’s face. She had always imagined him as this twisted, psychotic little freak. One had to be that crazy to nearly end the world all of the sudden. But as he was being piled on by her fellow participants,  she could tell that he was merely defending himself. He wasn’t hurting anyone. 

That was not the face of a madman. That was the face of someone who had just realized that they had screwed up. Then she noticed how her ribbons didn’t recoil at him, they were only tensing around her body in response to her stress.

“You all don’t understand, I’m not the bad guy!” He shouted through gritted teeth.

The whole situation was making her brain spin with cognitive dissonance, freezing her in place. Grinnames shut her eyes and gritted her teeth. She tried to ground herself.

She only got more confused when she saw some of the other participants putting themselves between Lucian and SMG4, shielding the man from being arrested. She saw some of the people she had gotten to know on the tour getting ready to fight the guards.

Grinnames: ???????

Grinnames: Did I miss something?

Grinnames: I’m confused here. Don’t they know that that is dangerous? They seemed like rationally-minded people.

...

“Dear employees and visitors, we are currently facing a vermin problem. Until the issue is resolved, the whole building will be going on lockdown starting now.”

Grinnames felt her stomach tie up as she saw the windows locking up with metallic sheets, blocking out the light with a clang. She could hear similar clangs echoing throughout the studio, and the room darkened from the lack of sunlight.

An unwanted memory bubbled up...

Cold walls. Cold voices. Unable to move. Trapped behind metal and glass. No way out-

Grinnames: Guys…? This is triggering some repressed memories right now…! I don’t like being trapped!! This isn’t funny!

Wr3n appears.

Grinnames: Oh god, we’re in S*w. It’s gonna be a Squ*d Game isn’t it…? Oh god oh god oh god oh god-

Grinnames’s panic overtakes her mind. She rushes to Mr. Puzzles on the ground, and lifts him up by his shirt collar, ignoring the protests of the small white squirrel that was trying to tend to him.

@niranutcake

Grinnames: WAKE UP YOU STUPID OLD MAN YOUR COWBOY ALEXA AI CHATBOT EFFING TRAPPED US AND I AM GOING TO GO FERAL

(And she slaps him too, to the horror of said small white squirrel)

Grinnames: IF YOU DON’T WAKE UP NOW I AM GOING TO EAT YOUR LEGS AND SUE YOU SO HARD, I REPEAT. I WILL EAT YOUR LEGS-

“If you want me to lift the lockdown, you have a choice.”

Grinnames abruptly looks up, and lets go of Mr. Puzzles. He crashes unceremoniously back to the floor. It’s kinda of funny.

“Option 1: You take out 4 over there and I will give you a free pass! Tour is over, the problem solved, you all can go home!”

Grinnames: ...Tempting. Cowabunga it i-!

No.

...Why was the voice so loud this time?

“Option 2: You wake up the big boss and he can decide what to do with you.”

Hm, slapping the boss awake and telling him (very gently and calmly) that she was going to sue him for this overkill of an AI security system also sounded like a good plan. But at the same time, she also kind of liked him better on the floor.

“Option 3: You outlaws do neither of those and we can enjoy playing a game of tag. I’m sure I can take care of this whole issue myself within the hour! So, choose wisely. Happy trails!”

Grinnames: BRING IT ON, WE CAN TAKE IT- oh wait not everyone is as strong as me. Shoot…

She would have liked those odds if there weren't so many other people that might not be able to take it.

...

Lucian: I will leave the choice on what to do up for you to decide. We need to work together here not against. Though, there is an option that wasn’t mentioned by the System: The lockdown can manually be manually overwritten in the Control Room. So, we have four choices: Arrest SMG4 after all, get Puzzles to the Health Department, try to reach security or make our best run to the exit which, quite frankly, is just insane.

He raised his hands in defense.

Lucian: Up to you. I know I’m probably getting into trouble after this either way.

Grinnames drew in a breath, calming the storm in her mind and gathering her thoughts.

On one hand, arresting SMG4 seemed very tempting right now. Her first priority right now is to escape, and make sure that no one gets hurt. The quickest way to do so was to arrest the man now, then she could just leave this place without getting entangled in anything unnecessary. She really just wanted to go home now, and a mad meme guardian is too dangerous for this world. His former friends had been very hurt by him, she remembered the way they clammed up when SMG4 was brought up into the conversation. Or at least, it seemed that way.

But on the other hand, she was beginning to doubt that he was even insane at all. The way he held himself and the way he talked did not line up at all with the man she had envisioned. Or he could just be very good at acting. Could have used that acting to fool her like he did with his friends. 

But…she also didn’t want to wrongly accuse someone, for she knew what that felt like all too well. And a lot of the participants were defending the man. She didn’t want to have to fight all of them. And her gut and the mysterious-but-weirdly-accurate voice in her own head was not agreeing with taking down SMG4 either. God, she hated moral dilemmas. There seemed to be no easy way out of this.

Alright, here’s a different plan. Why don’t we stay as neutral and unassuming as possible, and just focus on protecting everyone until we gather enough information? 

The voice sounded louder and clearer now, but not as forceful. It seemed to be trying to reason with her instead. Was it some part of her subconscious trying to… compromise? She blinked and shook her head. She could worry about the origins of this mysterious voice later. And what it was telling her didn’t seem so bad. 

Grinnames looks up to see Rayas… not looking so good. Not in the stressed and scared kind of way, but she looked… weak. Sickly. The fox-like creature had only known her for a few minutes, yet had treated her so nicely. She needed to return the favor.

Grinnames floated on over to Rayas. 

Grinnames: Hey. Don’t pass out on me now, ‘kay? Here! Um, have some sand! I usually eat sand, it perks me right up!

Rayas blinks sleepily up at her, struggling to stay conscious.

Grinnames: Hey hey hey, nononono, I was kidding! You’re probably not hungry right now! Here, I’ll just carry you then. Do I have permission to pick you up?

Rayas gave Grinnames a nod for consent. Grinnames gently scoops up Rayas in her ribbons, safely cocooning her. 

@lrayasostripes

…

The only thing she knew for sure at this point was that she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. (And that Mr. Puzzles was probably a villain.) She would continue to choose herself and the people she cared about. Like Micheal. And Rayas. And Half-Moon Face.

@michaelscorneroftheinternet @purpdrawsthings

Come to think of it, where even is Micheal anyway? He had been kind of... off, all day. There he was, in the back of the crowd, hands still folded rigidly behind his back. Observing. She thought he would have been more excited to see SMG3. But despite the wide smile he had plastered on his face, his expressions felt... muted. Was he trying to keep his cool and not fanboy too hard in front of everyone? She really wanted to check up on him, but now was not the time.

Grinnames firmly makes up her mind: she’s going to go to the Security Department to blow out this blasted Lockdown System, protect everyone she can, and then give Mr. Puzzles a piece of her mind. She is filled with petty spite right now. It felt better than being confused and frazzled. She needed to take her stress out on something. 

Plus, she hated AI technology. She wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to show that cowboy bot who it was messing with.

Grinnames: I say that we go for the security system and override the lockdown! With Mr. Lucian and numbers on our side, I'm sure we can do it! 

She turns back to the group, and sees that half were deciding to go to the Security Department and the other deciding to drag Mr. Puzzles to the Health Department. Grinnames set down Rayas first. She didn't want to bring a tired person into possible danger. Then she picked up the pace and jogged after them. 

Grinnames knows it’s time to lock in, so that everyone can be safe. She didn’t think that she would have to use her hunting weapons today.

Grinnames’s ribbons coil up, around and around, twisting into the shape of large, meaty tentacles. Black void-like substance fills the middle, completing her ribbons’ true, monstrous form. The tentacles make a crackling, hissing sound as they materialize.

She’s fully expecting bullets to fly, and these tentacles would protect her and her friends. Grinnames's mouth curls into an angry smirk, flashing her fangs.

Grinnames: Bring it on, you stupid building! I’ll tear you apart!

She catches up to Half-Moon Face, who has also decided to go raid the Security Department. She sees that they also have a wide evil grin on their face. A kindred soul. It fuels the fire burning within.

As she steps with purpose to face the possible dangers ahead, she passes SMG4. 

Grinnames: Meme guardian. We should talk later. Don’t get yourself arrested until I say so, alright?

Time to break the system, like a boss.

Man I can't believe I put like three memes in here

Grinnames Lore-drops here!:

She is canonically knowledgeable about meme-guardians and the avatar.

Her ribbons are able to carry items as heavy as cars.

The ribbons are actually just tentacles in disguise! When in their true form, they are more durable, and can take a few bullet wounds. But even they have their limits. Sharp objects like swords are more effective on them. She can also grow them back, but at a cost...

Dark backstory...

[paranoiastudio]

It's perfect

pairing: Sanji х f!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, slowburn???, p in v, oral (m for f), dirty talk

word count: 4.1k

English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes

- Perfect. - You smile when you feel the familiar taste, violet and burnt sugar. - Sanji, you are a god!

The cook is embarrassed by your praise and smiles back. Today he gave you a tasting of what he prepared based on your childhood story.

Once upon a time, when you had not yet left your island, you ate your mother’s violet cake almost every day. This is the taste of childhood and you have never been able to find something similar.

But Sanji... Oh, Sanji. He listened to you, all the memories that remained after you watched your mother in the kitchen and created an ideal.

- I tried, honey. - Sanji watches you pick up the sugar flower with a fork and put it in your mouth, the cook swallows nervously, seeing how your beautiful lips close on the delicacy.

Yes, he loved to cook. He loves obstacles and immediately decided that he had to try to make this cake. But there was a much greater meaning in you, only for your sake Sanji suffered in the kitchen for eight attempts.

- Your mother is obviously a great cook, this turned out to be a little difficult.

You are silent, continuing to eat a piece of cake. You need to have time to eat your portion before Luffy flies into the kitchen, demolishing everything in his path and eating everything that gets into his mouth.

- It's perfect. - You put down your fork and collect the remaining cream from the plate. - Do you want?

You extend your finger and Sanji, without hesitation for a second, wraps his lips around your finger, lightly biting the pad of your finger, and licks off the remaining sweetness.

- Really... Perfect. - You look into each other’s eyes and you are ready to cross the line and fall into the arms of this wonderful, kind and caring man.

- DINNER! - The captain bursts into the kitchen and almost demolishes the bench you were sitting on.

- Luffy, calm down a little. - Sanji gives his friend a stern look. - There are ladies here.

- Sorry, ladies. I'm just really hungry. - The captain down next to you, with Nami supporting you on the other side.

- I have to go, I want to work a little more. - Sanji watches you go and only then begins to fill the plates with food.

- What's wrong with her? Did I offend her? - Luffy is clearly puzzled.

- Shut up and eat. - Nami hands him a spoon. - They will figure it out themselves.

You carefully put the constellation on paper and again lean towards the telescope; today the sky is surprisingly clear and you decided to take advantage of this opportunity.

- Why you are awake?

- The sky is just a fairy tale, I can sleep tomorrow. - You turn around and feel your heart skip a beat at the sight of Sanji holding a tray of tea and cake.

- I decided to support your strength. - He puts the tray on the table. - I saved another portion for you.

- Thank you. - You accept the cup from the cook’s hands and are touched by him.

At first, you considered Sanji to be an ordinary ladies' man who just flirted with everyone, but over time his attention became more and more focused on you and you were able to discern a much deeper personality in him.

- Beautiful, right? - The stars shine brightly and beckon.

- Yes very. - You return Sanji’s gaze, he is looking at you. He talk about the sky, right?

- I... You're embarrassing me.

- I like to embarrass you, honey. - He smiles again like a seducer, but his eyes... So honest and sad, they cannot lie to you. They couldn't even if they wanted to.

- Sanji... Do you want... - You are silent for just a second. - Do you want a piece?

You hand him the cake on a fork and the cook takes it with pleasure. So you feed him, trying to find the right words, not wanting to destroy what has already been born between you.

- What do you mean you like to embarrass me?

- You are very cutely embarrassed, your ears turn red and give you away.

- They give what?

- That you like me. - The silence becomes deafening. Sanji is still smiling, but your frightened and naive heart sees a mockery in this smile.

You twirl the fork in your hands, unable to find anything to say. Sanji's smile fades and he hesitates, realizing that he did something wrong.

- Sorry. - The cook gets up, but you take his hand.

- N-no, wait... You're right, I like you. Very much. - Sanji wanted to say something, but you put your finger to his lips. - You are so talented and skillful. So... Handsome and funny, you always know what needs to be said, few people know how to help correctly. You...

Sanji takes your hand away and the next moment his lips are on yours and you almost fall from his pressure.

You press your hips against the bulwark and wrap your arms around the man’s neck, kissing him back. Sanji squeezes your cheeks, deepens the kiss and you feel his knee between your legs.

- Let me, honey. - He picks you up and sits you on the side. - You are so sweet.

You kiss the words and you feel dizzy from everything that is happening. The cool night air is cold on bare skin, but Sanji's body is so warm, even hot.

- It's like you're on fire. - You touch Sanji's forehead. - Everything is fine?

- It couldn’t be better, my sweet. - The blonde leans lower and touches your neck with his lips, causing a herd of goosebumps. - I like you too, more than you can imagine. I'm burning just thinking about you.

You throw your head back and watch the sky, where the stars shine so brightly. Sanji's hands lightly massage your shoulders and you involuntarily groan, your back is suffering a lot due to constant work with maps and a telescope.

- Do you want me to fuck you? - You want to laugh, it seems to you that Sanji is only teasing you, but the laughter gets stuck in your throat at the sight of the man.

He looks at you very seriously, waiting for an answer. He wants to hear it from you so that you can weigh everything. That look says he will stop if you want him to.

- Yes, I want you to take me. - There was no need to repeat, Sanji kneels down and lifts your dress, you sit in front of him on the side of the deck with the hem raised and legs apart, the sea wind caresses your legs.

- Everything must be perfect... For you. - The blonde touches you through your underwear, with one finger, just playing. The chef's lips kiss on each knee and hurry higher, along the inner thigh.

Sanji's fingers are squeezing your hips, marks will clearly be left on the flesh, but no one will see them except your cute cook.

A wet kiss remains close to the most intimate and you squeeze the wood of the bulwark tighter, hoping not to fall into the water.

- Sanji...

- I have to take care of you, honey, because we want it to be pleasant for both of us, right?

You grip the man's blond hair, and close you're eyes. Sanji returns to what he was doing and moves the fabric of his underwear slightly, exposing you to him.

- You shine with moisture, sweetie. - Sanji licks his lips and presses his mouth to you, collecting moisture with his tongue.

You shudder from the sudden and intense caress, arching your back, exposing yourself to Sanji’s skillful and soft hands.

His warm tongue touches the clitoris and circles it, changing the degree of pressure from time to time. The cook's fingers spread your labia, he strokes your slit with his finger and hums with satisfaction.

- Please, Sanji. - He penetrates you with his finger and you moan, you haven’t been with anyone for a long time and it takes time to get used to the invasion.

- God, you're so tight, baby. You've never been fucked properly, have you? - You whine at the depravity of his words and move your hips closer, causing Sanji to laugh hoarsely. - I'll take care of you.

He returns his mouth to where he needs it most, and his finger begins to move inside, pleasure and embarrassment overflowing from the wet sounds you make.

The pleasure grows, you almost don’t notice when a second finger is placed inside, followed by a third. Sanji keeps the rhythm so persistently that your toes curl in pleasure.

A particularly strong wave hits the side of the ship and at the same moment a wave of pleasure covers you, Sanji doesn’t stop, burying his face between your thighs, which only prolongs the orgasm.

Sanji's arms save you from falling; he hugs you tightly, lovingly pressing you to his chest. You bury your face in his neck and inhale the aroma of cigarettes, spices and something sweet.

- My hero. - You smile at this salvation. - You're even better than I thought. You are ideal.

- Don't waste your words, sweetie. We're not done yet.

Sanji helps you down from the railing and turns you around, his strong chest brushing against your back. You look at the waves, feeling the laundry leave your body.

Sanji pulls off his panties and puts them in his pants pocket. The skirt of your dress is in his hands again, he grips the soft fabric and lifts it up, exposing your ass.

- Right here?

- Everyone is sleeping, don't worry. - Sanji kisses the back of your head, you feel him inhaling the scent from your hair and skin.

I don’t want to argue, it already hurts inside, because you’re clenching around the emptiness and desperately wanting to be filled.

The sound of lightning is heard, you feel Sanji's hips with your hips, he presses against you, his hot and hard cock rubs against you, but you cannot touch it, because the blonde pressed your hands to the side, not allowing you to act freely.

You move your hips, grinding against him like a little slut, but right now you're not the least bit ashamed.

- Patience, honey. - Sanji moves away for a second and you feel his wet head, which rests against you, and then penetrates inside, stretching and filling until your muscles throb.

- Sanji... - That's all that comes out of your lips. Never before have you felt so full, so horny and needy.

- Give me a sec. - The man rests his forehead between your shoulder blades. - You’re so hot and tight, I’m afraid I won’t last long.

You rise up onto your toes, and, having decided something for yourself, you lift one leg and lower it onto the side, changing the angle and taking Sanji even deeper.

- Baby, damn. - The grip on your hips intensifies, you just smile.

With one hand you gather your dress at your waist, giving Sanji easier access to your ass, and with the other you caress your breasts through the thin fabric.

Sanji squeezes your buttocks and suddenly hits the hot skin, causing you to whine pitifully. The way he took you right on the deck, stretched out and opened like the last whore, could not help but excite you, you flowed onto his hard penis.

- Yes, that's it, baby, wet my dick properly. - The wet slaps of your bodies and your quiet moans broke the silence of this warm night.

Beads of sweat are running down your back, your hair is stuck to your temples and neck, you are tense to the limit, a little more and you will be thrown over the edge of pleasure.

Sanji’s hand squeezes your throat, easily runs along your collarbone, outlines your chest and moves lower, deftly moving between the folds of the fabric of your dress.

- Come on, honey, I can feel you... - He pinches your clit between two fingers, the friction and your wetness do their job, you feel a familiar spasm and don’t even try to stop yourself as you arch, exposing your wet pussy closer to Sanji.

Your hands squeeze the wood of the ship until it hurts, but it helps you stay in place, because Sanji is not going to stop and continues to pound you even during your orgasm.

- Crap! - You squeeze it especially hard and the cook can’t hold on any longer; he cums with a hoarse and drawn-out groan.

You seem to suck him in, trying not to spill a drop of his seed, you stay in this position for a while. The heavy breathing calms as Sanji wraps both of his arms around you and pulls you close.

- Perfect. - Your head falls on the blond’s shoulder and you feel a smile in his kiss, which he leaves on your neck.

[himluv]

My Heart (it's been beating)

The penultimate chapter of my Rookanis longfic is here! Chapter 53 of Say My Name (say it twice) – in which the Veilguard make their final attempt against Elgar'nan, and Lucanis makes a long overdue confession.

(a/n: I've decided that the final chapter will go up on Sunday morning, and I'm going to be very obnoxious about it, so I hope you'll join me in celebrating The End of this fic :D)

Read this chapter below or over on ao3!

The morning came too soon. Lucanis had never slept as hard as he had that night. He’d slept the whole night through, dreamless and restful until Rook woke him. He worried that she hadn’t slept, though she swore she did. He wouldn’t blame her if her sleep was fitful – the day ahead of them was daunting to say the least. 

Lucanis and Rook. SLEEP. The demon assured him. Spite watches. Spite protects.

Lucanis sighed, but accepted the demon’s assurances. If she hadn’t slept, he could do nothing about it now, anyway. The faction leaders would arrive at the Lighthouse soon. His quiet, private time with Embria was over. 

So, he dressed quickly in his rumpled, day-old clothes, then helped her dress in her leathers. Their hands brushed and lingered as he fastened her many belts and pouches in place, neither of them eager to leave the other. To end this intimate space they’d carved out for themselves. 

Once she was dressed, he took her hands in his. “Embria…” he looked away. “Today, this fight…”

She squeezed his hands. “Whatever happens,” she said. “We’ll take it on together.” She smiled at him, and though it was a little sad, a little fearful, it was true. “We can handle whatever comes next.”

Lucanis watched her, felt the air leave his lungs in awe. He snorted. “All I have to do is kill a god to keep you out of trouble.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Easy.”

She kissed him, her lips urgent against his, and then she pressed her forehead to his. “Go,” she breathed. “Get changed. I’ll meet you and the others in the dining hall soon.”

He nodded, kissed her one last time, and then left the room to prepare for the final fight. 

By the time Lucanis stepped out of the pantry and into the dining hall, everyone was assembled around the table. Everyone but Rook. The team sat in their usual places, their quiet glances tense. On edge. Strife and Viago stood, staring down at a map of Minrathous. Because, of course, the Fifth Talon had such a thing readily available. 

“Does anyone else want coffee?” He asked the room. 

Taash snorted and Davrin shook his head. Viago glared at him, but nodded once, which Lucanis interpreted as, ‘you’re an idiot, but if you’re going to make some…’ Strife just grunted and crossed his arms, which made Emmrich smile. Antoine and Evka shared a puzzled look, but said nothing. 

Neve shrugged. “I won’t say no to a cup,” she said. 

Lucanis nodded, and set about making enough coffee for the group – he was sure Embria would want a cup as well. 

He’d just handed a steaming mug to Neve when the dining hall door opened, and Rook stepped into the room. 

Rook. Is. Sad, Spite said, glancing at Lucanis from where he crouched before the fire. Said. Goodbyes. Long overdueeeeeee.

He suspected the demon meant Varric. The last time Rook had been in the infirmary alone, she’d thought the dwarf was still alive. She’d gone to him for advice, for guidance. And while Lucanis didn’t understand the magic that had made that possible, he knew that Embria would carry that wound for a long time to come. 

Solas had stolen the memory of her mentor’s death. Had used the likeness of the man she viewed more like a father than any other, to mold her into who he wanted her to be. And he had delayed and compounded her grief in the process. 

No, Embria wasn’t going to get over that anytime soon. But, she could stuff it down for now and focus on the job at hand. 

“Thanks for your patience, everyone,” she said as she approached the table. Lucanis handed her a cup of coffee, which she took wordlessly. There was something in the graze of her fingers on his, in the way she leaned into him just a little. She was ready for the fight ahead, but it wasn’t like the days before Tearstone Island. There was no wall between them, now. Lucanis hoped there never would be again.

Their familiarity must of shown, because Viago raised an eyebrow at Lucanis. Lucanis shrugged and sipped at his coffee, returning his attention to Rook as she laid out their plan of attack. So far, it was all good, straightforward and logical. Embria chose team members to aid certain factions as they worked on getting past the city’s defenses, the giant guardians, and the Venatori mages controlling them. 

“The Crows will handle the mages,” she said. 

Lucanis cradled his cup in both hands, looking down at the map and the various utensils and cups she’d used for pieces. He knew someone from the team needed to go with the Crows, and if anyone was going to succeed at killing the cult leader, it would be him. But, still, he hesitated… he didn’t want her to send him away while she took someone else to the fight with Elgar’nan. 

But, the mission’s success was more important than their personal feelings. They both knew that. 

“Someone should go with the Crows,” he said. He kept his eyes on the map, unable to look at her. 

“You’re right,” she said. There was a long pause as she considered it. “Taash,” she said. “Time to earn that cape.”

“Yes,” they said, nodding and pumping one fist. 

“Contract accepted,” Viago said, the barest smirk on his lips. 

Lucanis glanced at Embria, and for a second he saw the truth in her eyes – she couldn’t leave him behind. He would be by her side to the very end. As it should be. 

Yesssssssss, Spite hissed. We protect. Our ROOK!

He took another sip of coffee to disguise the smile that crept across his face. He would be there with her, and this time, they were going to win. 

The fight through Hightown was one of the more harrowing fights in Lucanis’s life. There seemed to be no end to the Venatori or the darkspawn, and Elgar’nan’s archdemon was even bigger than he remembered it being. Surely it hadn’t been this large at Arlathan Crater?

They’d briefly teamed up with Solas, which… Lucanis had not liked. He wanted to kill the man, wanted to make him feel a sliver of the pain he had inflicted on Rook, to sink that lyrium dagger into his heart up to the hilt. 

But, he knew Embria had made the right choice. They couldn’t face Elgar’nan until the archdemon was down, and they could not take out that dragon without the Dread Wolf’s help. So, they’d run with the wolf through the once lavish streets of Minrathous’s Hightown, now choked and crumbling with blight. 

They’d made good progress, and though the fight was a slog, the further they climbed toward the archon’s palace, the more Lucanis thought they might actually win. And then, the best thing had happened, something he had not dared hope for. 

They had found Bellara. 

She was blighted, had been inside a blight eruption, directing blight tendrils under Elgar’nan’s command. She looked… terrifying, if he was being honest. Her eyes burned red and streaks of blight laced around her eyes, beneath the skin. Her lips were pale, almost gray, and she seemed constantly woozy, or disoriented. She said she could still hear the blight, could hear Elgar’nan, but she was herself again. 

Neve had been overwhelmed with relief, as close to tears as Lucanis thought anyone might ever see her. And now that she had Bellara back, she kept close her close. She would not lose her again. Lucanis understood that feeling all too well. 

But, they were all safe for the moment, holed away in what was apparently the Imperial Divine’s home. A home Ashur seemed very familiar with, though if anyone else noticed, they kept it to themselves. Ashur had been a staunch ally, had sacrifice himself to protect his city and his people. Lucanis respected that, immensely. But, Lucanis had no time for theorizing about the Viper’s true identity.

At the nearby table, Rook and Bellara were speaking with the Inquisitor and Morrigan. Lucanis listened, but struggled to focus. He was agitated, that same feeling he’d had before Ivenci’s contract came due. Elgar’nan’s death was upon him and Lucanis did not want to wait any longer. 

And neither did Spite. The demon was prowling the room, sniffing at their companions and at doorways, as if searching for a way out. Eager to be on their way to end this contract. His incessant pacing only compounded Lucanis’s impatience.

But, they both needed the reprieve after the fight to get this far. He was already a little tired, a little sore. And the hardest part was still to come. So he stood in his corner, listening with only half his mind, and focusing on his breathing with the rest. He needed to be ready. He needed to focus. 

But then he noticed Rook making her rounds with the team. This was it, the final moments. And, of course, she saved him for last. 

She approached him in his corner, just secluded enough from the others to feel a sense of privacy. 

“Lucanis?” She asked, already clued in to his fractious mood. “Everything all right?”

“We have made it here and fared well in the fight,” he said, his voice low and harsh. “No we only have to wait.” He glanced at his demon, who was still prowling the room. “But, Spite grows impatient… as do I.” Lucanis rolled his neck and shoulders. “This may be the calm before the final storm, but I don’t feel it.”

“If there’s anything I can do…” There was that little crease in her brow. The one that meant she was worried about him. There’d been a time when he felt guilty each time he saw it, but now… he loved it. Loved that she was here to be worried about him. 

Lucanis smiled, just a little. “Your presence has already helped.”

Embria sighed. “It won’t be much longer.”

He scowled. “Elgar’nan’s life is measured in hours,” he said. The god-tyrant would fall today. “As for Solas…” he shook his head. “He used blood magic against you. He betrayed us. He pulled you into that prison.” His voice nearly broke, the anger resurging with a new lance of pain. No one deserved to be locked away with their own worst thoughts. Not him and certainly not Embria.  

He frowned and looked away from Rook. “I leave his fate to you, but I will not let him hurt you.”

“… Lucanis.” She reached for him, but didn’t touch him.

He sighed. “Whatever happens, my contract was for the blighted gods. Today it is fulfilled.”

She looked down, her brow pulled low. “If I’d never gone to the Crows, if I’d never found you…” Her voice trembled as she looked back up at him with shining eyes. “I’m just so grateful I did.”

He smiled. “As am I. More than I’ve ever told you…” He looked at her, really looked at her in the moment. She looked tired but ready. Determined. Her eyes were clear, if a little moist, and she was gorgeous. They were about to face at least one god. And there was no guarantee they would get another chance to say what needed to be said. It was now or never. 

“Rook. Saying I owe you my life is not enough.” He frowned, looking down at their feet. “You know my mind.” She knew it better than himself, somedays. “I’ve assumed you know my heart because…” he took a deep breath and then looked directly into her eyes. “It beats for you. It’s been beating…” 

Mierda, why was this difficult? Why was he still so bad at talking about his heart? 

“When I wanted you. When I was afraid to want you…” That still wasn’t it. He still hadn’t said the words he’d carried between his ribs all these months. “Tell me this ends with me asleep in your arms, and I will kill any god you ask.”

Embria stared at him, her eyes shimmering in the glow from the candles and the nearby fire. “Lucanis, I…”

He reached for her hand and held it tight. She laced her fingers through his and squeezed. And the warmth between them in that moment was all it took for his heart to overflow. Then the words poured from him. 

“I love you, Embria. And I won’t let you down.” 

For a heartbeat, she only watched him, her heart in her eyes. Then she tugged on his hand and pulled him to her. She kissed him, urgent and fierce and yet, somehow soft. He knew the others could see them, knew that this was a very public display in front of more than just the team. The Inquisitor, Morrigan, Dorian and so many others.

Lucanis didn’t care in the slightest. He returned her kiss, poured every ounce of the devotion he carried for her into where their lips met. If nothing else, she would face Elgar’nan without a single doubt that she was cherished. That she was loved. 

The kiss ended, and Embria pressed her forehead to his. “You could never let me down,” she breathed. “I love you, Lucanis.”

He closed his eyes, shared her breath, and let her forehead against his be his anchor. Because hearing her say those words rocked him. He was awash in a warmth like nothing he’d ever known. Not the fiery heat of passion, nor the furious burn of rage. Not the white hot, electric charge he often felt when they were alone together. 

This was something else. Something soft. A suffuse glow that spread from his chest, traveled along his veins into the very edges of him. It felt like lying in the mid-day sun after a cold swim, only better – Embria’s love would never burn him.

Lucanis took a shuddering breath. “The gods fall today,” he said.

She nodded, just a little movement against his forehead. “And then we go home,” she said. 

He smiled. That was the second best thing she’d said to him that day. And Lucanis would do everything in his power to make sure her words came true.