#i love that ominous door he's always running to

[popflythesky]

1st: The Fool upright | Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (buti it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

Song inspo: E.V.O.L- MARINA

Part I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII. (completed!)

Rule no. 1: Don't show fear

It was a mistake. A comical, nonsensical, monumental mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. You didn’t mean to create a soul tie with a demon . All you did was read a torn up book from the library. Was it an occult book about spiritual practices in the Japanese Heian era? Yes… but it doesn’t warrant an eldritch horror being your life partner. 

Actually, according to the demon, you didn’t create the soul tie, he has been waiting for you all his life. Cute, but it didn’t make the situation any better. Damn your natural inclination to catch the old and withered items thrown into the donation boxes of the library you worked at. It just pained your heart to see pages falling out of books, and the ominous leather bound grimoire was no exception. 

Restoration was one of your favorite things to do. Knowledge is always worth saving, no matter how old it may be. Books were your life. You found yourself lost in them, enchanted, terrified, taught. You had no genre as your favorite. Everything was welcomed, nothing was off limits. You knew a little bit of every culture, every study, every block buster fantasy. If you could, you’d build a machine that would let you live inside of a book and experience the scene yourself. 

Technically you could ask your all powerful demon to do that, but you didn’t want to deal with him right now.

You still weren’t all too sure on how it happened. First you were glueing the pages back to the spine of the book, running your fingers over the deckled edges when you opened a page that was stuck together. You carefully peeled it apart, a task that took ten minutes to do to avoid any additional tears, and opened up to a page that was different from the rest. The words were written in a rush, the strokes of the characters dragging much longer than it should. You only knew a tiny bit of Japanese (but much more of Latin, Russian, Yoruba, and French from having just an abundance of time on your hands), but this time you could make out some of the words. 

You muttered the ones you knew for sure, used context clues for the ones that were beyond reading. It didn’t make a lick of sense to you. You closed the book with a clamp so that the glue would set and decided to come back to it tomorrow since it was closing time. There was no rush of wind, flash of lightning, or eerie sounds. Just you and the screech of a thousand cicadas as soon as you stepped outside to walk to your car. A normal Thursday night.

Until it wasn’t. 

You shuffled around your house with a new arc from your favorite novelist in one hand, a glass of wine in the other, and the largest frame of glasses known to man perched on your nose. Jazz music quietly spilled out from your hidden speakers, preventing the house from getting a little too quiet as you lived alone with your cat. It was a total boring cliche, you were well aware, but you were happy with your life. You had friends who you trusted, a great relationship with your parents, and just recently got out of a relationship with someone who you didn’t hate, you just grew apart. There was no chaotic, negative energy to feast on in your household and you liked it that way. 

You thought you heard your cat clawing on the door when you were snuggled away in your bed. You flipped the covers over and went to let her in to snuggle with you. 

“I’m so sorry, Cleo. I thought you were already in here with me,” you said, scooping her up from the floor. The ragdoll cat begrudgingly accepted your kisses of apology. You set her down on the bed, watching her find a good spot to curl up in and smiled. You went to reach for your wine glass you knew that you set on your nightstand, but there was nothing in the glass. You were sure that you didn’t finish it. You paced yourself well enough for it to last until at least chapter five, but there wasn’t a drop of alcohol left. 

“The quality of sake has diminished over the years, I see.” 

The voice came from all around the room but also deep in your chest. Cleo hissed, making a run for it out of your door, leaving you wildly spinning around for the intruder. You lunged for the heavy duty taser you kept in your nightstand, but when you turned around there was nobody there.

“What is that?” 

The bone chilling voice spoke again. Was it one person or many, you couldn’t tell. 

“I— I have a weapon!” You tried to steady your voice but it was hopeless. You were terrified. There was nobody there but you could feel a heavy presence in the room. 

“You call that a weapon?” The voice laughed. “The only weapon my wife needs is me.”

The statement made you falter. “Wife? Who are you?”

You turned around once again and nearly jumped out of your skin. A man, or a close approximation of one, sat on your bed flicking through your book. It was impossible, but he had twice as many limbs on his top half than he should, and double the amount of eyes. They were bright and red when scanning through your novel. “What language is this?” 

“F-french,” you whispered. You were dreaming. You had to be. That was the only way this could be happening. Still, dream or not, you had to protect yourself. You pressed your taser and watched the prongs leap out and touch his bare skin. He looked unbothered, merely looking down at his stomach where the taser landed and moved his arm to reveal a mouth on his abdomen. A tongue flopped out and licked the prongs, dragging it back to the mouth and the taser was slowly dragged out of your hands and into the mouth. You watched in horror as the hard plastic was crushed to pieces in front of your very eyes. 

“Useless weapon,” he reiterated, this time looking directly at you. “Don’t insult me again.” 

“Pl—please don’t hurt me.” There was nothing left to do but beg. You already punched yourself till blood was drawn. This was not a dream, you were looking at a real, evil monster who didn’t know French and ate high voltage tasers. 

He rose from your bed. You crawled away as much as you could until you bumped into a wall and still you wanted to move through it. He stood before you, looking over your trembling frame and called out for you. 

“Rise.” 

You rose, unsure if you really had a choice in the matter. One of his many hands cupped the side of your face. A clawed thumb brushed away the tear that fell on your cheek.

“Why do you weep?”

“Um… well… I don’t really know who you are,” you said honestly. You were still pinned to the wall, unable to flee and he took up your entire frame of sight. He nodded, removing his hand from your face and raising it in the air. You thought he was going to strike you and you flinched. When you opened your eyes again he was multiple steps away from you, still raising his palm.

“Time has faded your memory of me. You are my wife, and I am your husband. The string of fate proves that we are mates.” 

He stated it so matter of factly. You are my wife, and I am your husband. My wife, your husband. Mates. Forget dreaming, you have officially lost your mind. 

“I don’t… remember agreeing to that,” you said carefully. The words “husband” and “wife” bounced in your head in a crazy echo. You slumped to the floor, your body suddenly very tired. A laugh bubbled up your throat and escaped your mouth. So much for your boring life.

“Do you not feel the connection? The string is tied from my last finger to yours.” You looked at your hand, not seeing any supposed string and shook your head. 

He frowned. “You do not agree to it. It has been decided.” He crouched in front of you, inspecting your face earnestly. One side of his face was strange, not normal skin, instead inhuman, bumpy and shades darker. 

“You look the same after all this time,” he murmured. “I will make you remember.” 

“Let’s not do that,” you said quickly. “I don’t even know your name and I am not married. I’m a librarian and I have a cat. And I have never, ever met you before.”

“I am known as Sukuna, among other names,” he responded to one of your distresses. “What title is a librarian?”

This time you laughed. An deranged laugh, loud and unbecoming. Sukuna waited as impatiently as he could for you to be finished, but you kept on cackling. Once out of breath, you wiped the tears out of your eyes and leaned against the wall. It finally dawned on you how this happened. The drying grimoire that was locked up in the library was responsible for this strange turn of events.

“It’s not a title, at least, not in the way you’re thinking. It’s my job, one that I love very much. Was I ever a common worker before?”

Sukuna bristled at the thought. Even his tummy mouth frowned. “You were a queen. You wanted nothing because you had everything.”

“Interesting,” you mused. “I’m so not your girl.”

“I’m not interested in little girls.”

“Kudos to you. I think I’m going to sleep now. I’m clearly much more tired than I think I am.”

“We have things to discuss,” Sukuna protested, but you already slipped under the sheets. If I force myself to sleep he will go away, you thought. 

Instead you felt the dip of the other side of your bed and flung your eyes open. Sukuna was in bed, with you, staring your down with his four eyes. He was much too close for your liking. 

You looked at him wildly. “What are you doing?” 

“Resting with you.” 

“Get out of my bed!”

“Are you no longer tired?” 

“I am tired. Extremely tired, but that doesn’t mean I want you on my bed! Stay on the floor or something!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes at you and turned on his back, his arms crossed in two sets on his chest. 

“You were always particular with your sleeping habits. I see that hasn’t changed either.”

“Stop acting like you know me!”

Sukuna got off the bed to sit on the floor like you asked. The only problem is that you could feel his gaze prickling your skin, making it impossible to ignore him. You didn’t feel bad about kicking him out, he certainly didn’t have a pout on his face because of it, but something needed to be done. 

“Face the door instead of me,” you mumbled. 

His eyes twitched. “Commanding me like footmen,” he grumbled, yet he still turned away. You wondered if his obedience had something to do with the book. Sukuna had the aura of someone who doesn’t listen to anyone, yet he’s been more than understanding with you. Maybe you really were his wife. Maybe you were having a very elaborate and maladaptive daydream. You thought of “maybe’s” until the sun came up, still staring at the back of his pink, spiky hair. 

Your alarm chirped for you to get ready for work. You groaned. You didn’t get a second of sleep. You were too afraid of being eaten by the demon you accidentally summoned. You reached out to shut off the ringing clock as quietly as you could, but Sukuna touched it first. 

“How strange,” he said, turning the clock around in his hand. He brought it up to his ear, shook his head, tapped the glass. Then he crushed it. It was made of plastic, but the shards bent and broke to the floor left his hand unscratched. You gaped at the mess he made as he let the remains fall to the floor. “It was making a wretched sound.”

“Yeah…” you sighed. “It was pretty noisy.”

You had to find out how to get rid of him. Fast. 

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI. XII. XIII.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[lordprettyflackotara]

deja vu || hoodie

‘do you get deja vu?’

sum: after waking up you find a mysterious man in your room, one that feels eerily familiar. you can’t deny that you know him somehow, nor can you deny your attraction to him

tw: smut minors dni 18+, hair pulling, humiliation, murder, roughness

a/n: kinda really proud of this concept

Boom!!

You sat straight up in your bed, heart pounding as your soaked in the remnants of the sound. Across the room was your window, your thin curtains failing to conceal the storm raging outside. You rubbed your temple, shaking off a cold sweat you had developed. Thunder storms always made you nervous. You sighed, your eyes scanning your dark room. You weren’t afraid of the dark. That’s what you always told yourself anyway. You were afraid of what was lurking in it.

With an out stretched arm your fingertips found your desk lamp, clicking the switch. The lamp illuminated the room, your eyes widening in terror as your gaze landed on an ominous intruder. He sat man spreading in your rocking chair, tucked away in the corner of your room. A black ski mask with a poorly stitched set of red eyes and frown stared back at you, a mustard yellow hoodie concealing the rest of his defining features. You could see the muddy footprints his boots left on your floor starting from your bedroom door. You gulped nervously, tugging at your comforter to cover yourself more.

“W-Who are you?” You sputtered. The man shifted in the chair, as if he was studying you. He was mysterious and a misty memory at the same time. “Call me Hoodie,” He responded, his voice deep and rough. You stared at him dumbfounded, at a loss for words. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Hoodie chuckled, as if your terror was amusement. You straightened out your back, giving him a look so nasty you swore it could kill. “What? No. Why are you in my house?” You asked boldly. Hoodie rolled his sleeves up, revealing his toned arms. “I was in the neighborhood,” He shrugged carelessly. You found the courage to get out of bed, running out of the room. You were anything but graceful, your footsteps audible as you stumbled down the stairs.

You were almost to the bottom, when a strong set of hands shoved you. You didn’t have time to process it, gasping as you helplessly fell to the bottom of the stairwell. Groaning in pain you tried to crawl, Hoodie’s straddling you and pinning you down against the floor. You could feel his crotch against your exposed ass, regrettably attempting to run in a skimpy victoria’s secret night gown. “I love it when you run, it’s always so cute,” Hoodie purred. His fingers raked themselves through your hair, yanking your head off of the floor. “You’re going to give into me, you always do sweetheart,” He cooed. He snickered at your thrashing, attempting to crawl away. “I don’t know you, you’re a fuckin psycho!” You screeched, desperately clawing at the wooden floorboards. You whimpered under him yanking at your hair once more, bringing you closer to him.

“I know you better than you know yourself. I know how to make you cum in under a minute. I know where you hide your vibrator. I know what your deepest darkest secrets are. I’m a shadow you can’t escape,” Hoodie growled. You became panicked, your heart pounding against your ribcage as you struggled to breathe. “Awe sweetheart don’t panic, i’m here to please you,” He grinned, grinding against your ass. You audibly gasped, unsure how to process your body responding to him willingly. It was as if you had felt him dozens of times before, if not more. He reeked of tobacco and cologne, his musk flooding your nostrils. It seemed so familiar.

“Who are you?” You whispered, questioning him again. Hoodie sensed this, releasing your hair. “I’m your non traditional guardian angel sweetheart,” Hoodie grunted. He lifted himself off of you, allowing you to climb to your feet. Your gaze remained on the floor, claw marks that were older clawed into the wood. You narrowed your eyes, realizing you hadn’t made those. They were too far away, you wouldn’t have been able to make them. The sound of a lighter flickering snatched your attention, Hoodie shamelessly lighting a cigarette. “You can’t smoke in here,” You hissed, slapping his arm. Hoodie chuckled, tilting his head back. It was then he shoved off his ski mask, carelessly tossing it aside.

Dozens of lives you swore you could’ve lived before washed over you, your head beginning to spin. Unsurely you rose your hand, reaching out to him. Your fingertips grazed his stubble, his chapped lips ones you remembered somehow. But how? “Are you real?” You whispered. You cupped his cheek, Hoodie staring down at you slightly. “Probably more real than you,” He whispered back. He extended his hand, offering you his cigarette. You waved it away, cringing at the smell. “I don’t smoke,” You declined. Hoodie found this amusing, taking another hit. “Yeah you do. Try it,” He insisted. You crossed your arms defensively, unintentionally pushing your breast together. “What do I get if I do?” You countered. A smirk creeped across Hoodie’s lips, your attention temporarily mesmerized as he exhaled out of his nostrils. “You hit that and cough, i’ll go. If you don’t though, you’ll give me what I want,” He purred.

Goosebumps trailed across your skin at the sound of his words, causing you to swallow.

“And what is it you want?”

“You.”

The confession created a heavy pause in the room, your head spinning. If you agreed to this silly game, you’d get this invasive intruder out of your house without a fight. If you didn’t, you doubted you’d be able to successfully call the police this time. You couldn’t recall smoking a cigarette in your entire life. You knew you were going to cough. Hesitantly you grabbed the cigarette from him, instinctively placing it between your two fingers. You unsurely placed it to your lips, inhaling deeply. To your surprise the tobacco was like a big hug, something you relished in. You could feel it swirl around your lungs, before exhaling it. A mere tickle in your throat was no where in sight.

“W-What the hell?” You whispered, staring at the cigarette. Hoodie grinned mischievously, taking the cigarette back. “What’d I tell you? Now bend over,” He barked. A normal person in your shoes would’ve been scared. They would’ve been terrified, scrambling to escape. Yet something about Hoodie felt so familiar and you couldn’t deny the way his orders sent pleasure right to your core. You couldn’t explain it, feeling an odd sense of deja vu as you crawled onto the couch, arching your ass into the air. Heat dashed across your cheeks as the AC brushed against your skin, goosebumps arising. Hoodie’s gloved hand met the mounds of your ass, an unseen satisfied smirk growing across his face. “So beautiful. So obedient. You always end up listening to me,” He murmured, mostly to himself. He took another drag of his cigarette, carelessly pulling your panties down.

It was embarrassing how wet you were, all for a man who broke into your home. He dragged two fingers up your slick, teasing you. “So wet for a stranger, interesting,” Hoodie chuckled. His cigarette hung lazily from his lips as he spread open the mounds of your ass, admiring your holes. “So pretty. My pretty girl,” He hummed. It was odd, hearing his words that you swore you had somehow heard time and time again. You whimpered at the sound of his belt clinking, one of his thick fingers welcoming itself into your aching cunt. “Just as tight as always. You always out do yourself,” He mumbled, exploring your cunt. You swallowed in embarrassment, in disbelief your body was reacting to him as if he were an old friend. He quickly removed his singular digit, his shaft teasingly rubbing up and down your slick.

“You wanna know my favorite thing about you sweetheart?” Hoodie asked, his tip rubbing against your clit. You shuddered at the sensation, embarrassed of how easily your body gave in to him. “You’re always so easy to slide right into. It’s like you were made for me,” He gloated. A protest was on the tip of your lips, a gasp escaping them instead as he slid into you with ease. You had never been so wet before, your gummy walls eagerly accepting his cock as he sank into you. You were in disbelief, unable to comprehend the way your body adored his. Hoodie grunted as he bottomed out, his gloved hands gripping your waist. Sheepishly you buried your face into the couch cushion, a groan escaping your lips unwillingly. “Does it feel good sweetheart?” He asked, taking a proper inhale of his cigarette. He stayed inside of you for a moment, allowing you to feel him fully. When you didn’t respond Hoodie frowned, delivering a sharp slap to your ass.

You didn’t recognize the sinful moan that left your lips.

“Answer me.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows you refused to glance at him. “It feels good,” You replied, humiliated. Hoodie was gleaming with pride beginning to move his hips to fuck you properly. He was anything but gentle, fucking you as if you were the last woman on earth. It was as if he was determined to pull as many noises out of you as possible. Embarrassed at your own noises you bit your bottom lip, unable to conceal them. Someway somehow your body liked this. It liked being fucked by an intruder with an attitude problem. Your hands clawed at the couch as he abused your g spot, destroying your cunt the way he pleased. Grunts and curses left his lips like a mantra. All teasing and degrading had subsided, his focus completely shifted and occupied on his own high.

Your perky nipples rubbed against the rough leather of the couch, your hand slithering down to your neglected clit. It was apparent to you Hoodie was in this for his orgasm alone, no matter what he said. Not only was it embarrassing for you to be bent over like this, taking a strangers dick. But it was even more humiliating you wanted to get off just as much as he did. Your fingers were shaky as they circled your clit, your moans now more loud and unhinged. Hoodie thrust showed no sign of stopping, even after he carelessly tossed his cigarette bud aside. The smell and sound of sex clouded the room, completely flooding your senses as you took him. “Thats it. Good fuckin’ slut, takin’ me like a whore,” Hoodie grunted, snapping you out of your daze. Your body was a slave to the pleasure, addicted to the high only this intruder seemed to give you.

The knot in your stomach tightened, your body shaking as you approached your high. You had never felt this way before, so turned on. You were addicted to the feeling, as if Hoodie had just provided you with the best heroin ever produced. “I feel the way you’re squeezin’ me sweetheart. Go ahead. Make a mess on my cock,” Hoodie ordered. As if on cue your orgasm washed over you, your vision white as your body trembled. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, your vision hazy. You could feel Hoodie’s release, his cum painting the skin of your ass. Through your hazy vision you noticed white stains on your couch, a few inches away from your head. In confusion you raised an eyebrow, unsure if through the dancing stars you were seeing things correctly.

Before you could question it too much Hoodie scooped you up bridal style, carrying you away from the couch. He swiftly kicked open your bathroom door, sitting you in the tub and undressing you. “Should I ask why you know where my bathroom is?” You asked softly, your body spent. Hoodie chuckled, tossing your night gown and panties aside. He turned on the faucet, goosebumps covering your skin as the water turned warm. He reached under your sink, searching for something. “For such a know it all I thought you’d know my bubble bath is on the top shelf above the toilet,” You said, your eyes closed with bliss. Your body felt completely relaxed, a hum of satisfaction emerging from your throat as the water began to surround you.

“Such a smart ass. I’ll remember to fix that mouth of yours later,” Hoodie said, grabbing the bubble bath. The comforting smell of lavender filled your nostrils, causing you to smile. “I assume you know that’s my favorite?” You asked. Any other person in any other world would be terrified right now, shaking with fear. Yet you were content. Somehow comforted by your intruders presence. Hoodie dug another cigarette out of his pocket, roughly shoving it in between his lips. “This is always the worst part,” He sighed. You curiously opened your eyes, looking over at him. Bubbles began to rise, coating your skin.

“Why’s that? You afraid to say goodbye?” You asked. Hoodie shook his head, leaning against your bathroom sink. “Yeah, something like that. Restarting this over and over again is borderline torture,” He grumbled. This caught your attention, causing you to shift uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, what?” You questioned. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to not be afraid of him, there’s no telling whether or not he’s insane. “This is the only way The Operator lets me see you. I try to make the best of it really, Masky’s girlfriend didn’t get the same grace you did,” He explained. A mysterious supernatural being flashed in your mind, before quickly fading away as quick as it came. “I guess I can explain it to you just this once, not like you’ll remember anyways,” He said, roughly turning off the faucet. Drips of water droplets hit the water, your heart beginning to race.

“You’re my reward for being an obedient proxy. It’s a pain in the ass sometimes, rinsing and repeating this process. You’re stuck in a time paradox, where you’re be trapped in a loop of this forever. This isn’t even your house, it’s what The Operator made you believe is your house. Most of your memories are altered heavily or just completely erased. You don’t remember our five year relationship, back before I became who I am now.”

Hoodie ignored your reaction, your face twisted in horror as he continued.

“Tomorrow the cycle will start again. I’ll come in, just as I did tonight. You’ll be scared, just as you were tonight. But that sense of deja vu will keep you attracted to me and that’s all I could really ask for,” He sighed. He inhaled another hit of his cigarette, shaking his head. “Each time I kill you, the cycle resets. I bring you to Jack and The Operator, who revive you and wipe your memory. I gotta say though, too much of your memory is staying. He’s gotta fix that or it’s gonna fuck up this whole arrangement,” Hoodie explained. He couldn’t bear to look at your face. You had curled up into a ball in the tub, your knees tucked to your chest.

“B-Brian I don’t-”

The name fell off of your lips before you could process it. You didn’t understand, Hoodie’s eyes widening. He reached back under the sink, grabbing a toaster. He had planted it there the day before, not wanting to keep killing you in such bloody ways. Roughly he shoved it into a nearby outlet, sighing.

“Thats my cue. Dont worry sweetheart, tomorrow you won’t remember anything at all.”

Before you could protest or scream, he carelessly tossed the toaster into the bath. You were now dead once again, your destiny forcing you to be revived time and time again. Maybe Hoodie could find a way around it. Or, maybe he could rely on your deja vu for comfort for as long as he was cursed to live.

[dulcescorderitas]

Hey, how are you?

I would like to ask something for Clark Kent, something where the reader, who is already Clark's girlfriend, feels that there is someone kind of psychopath following her and watching her, and she doesn't feel safe, she knows that Clark is Superman, but maybe he's solving another case and the reader didn't want to get in the way, but one day things go too far and this man who is following the reader tries to break into her house and she calls Clark? And our dear husband arrives at the reader's house in a few moments without even asking questions, he just wants to know that she is okay.

I love your writing, and thank you.

author's note: hiiii, hope it's not too short, anonie!

you had always known metropolis held dangers, even for someone dating clark kent—superman, the man of steel. yet nothing had prepared you for the creeping sense of unease that had settled over you in recent weeks.

it started with the feeling of eyes on your back, the sensation of being watched when you walked home from work. then came the notes—brief, ominous messages left under your door, each more unsettling than the last. you didn't want to burden clark. his days were already filled with saving the world, his nights stolen away by emergencies that only he could handle. so you bore it in silence, brushing off the cold sweat that broke out on your skin, telling yourself it was nothing.

but tonight, the facade cracked. the rattling at your window broke through your calm like a sledgehammer. you froze, heart pounding, as the lock twisted under the force of an intruder's hand. panic seized you. grabbing your phone, you dialed clark's number, your fingers trembling as you hit call.

"clark, someone's trying to break in," you whispered, voice shaking with fear.

there was no hesitation on the other end. "i'm on my way."

you barely had time to process his words before the front door burst open. the man stood there, eyes wild, a knife gleaming in his hand. he took a step towards you, and the world seemed to slow. your breath caught in your throat, every instinct screaming at you to run, but your legs felt like lead.

then, a gust of wind blew through the apartment. in a blur of red and blue, clark was there. his eyes burned with fury, the usual warmth replaced by a cold, steely rage. the intruder didn't even have time to react before clark had him by the collar, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.

"are you okay?" his voice was soft when he turned to you, but the tightness in his jaw betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

you nodded, tears streaming down your face as you collapsed into his arms. "i was so scared."

"he won't hurt you again," clark promised, his arms encircling you, a shield against the world.

the intruder, now unconscious, was left for the authorities. clark held you close, murmuring reassurances as he carried you to the couch, never letting go. the strength that could move mountains was now tender, cradling you as though you were the most precious thing in the universe.

"i should have told you earlier," you admitted, voice thick with emotion.

he cupped your face, his thumb brushing away your tears. "nothing is more important than you. next time, you tell me."

you nodded, resting your forehead against his, the terror of the night melting away in his embrace. in that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. there was only clark, your protector, your love, holding you as if he'd never let you go.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Nine.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Ten. The Playlist. Series Masterlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky are holding it together. Until you aren’t.

Pairing - DadsBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - cursing. hospital setting. talk of illness/health issues. panic attack.

Word Count - 3k

Authors Note - I probably sound like a broken record, but… thank you all so much for your patience and support. couldn’t do it without you. can you even believe that next chapter will be chapter ten? thanks for sticking with me. sorry for this rollercoaster of a chapter. there is still more to come - don’t worry!! <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You don’t remember the journey.

One minute, Bucky’s grabbing your hand and bundling you into the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in as your hands shake. The next, he’s undoing your seatbelt, telling you that you’ve arrived as he puts the car in park. You don’t recall speeding across town and into the city. You can’t even think back to the roads flying past in a blur as your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.

The only thing that’s on your mind is your Dad.

You and Buck take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together tightly. When you reach the reception desk, you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Your words have dried up, dissolved and evaporated into thin air. Your soulmate saves you, once again.

“We’re here to see a family member in cardiology. Can you tell us where to go, please?”

The receptionist looks up at you both, before nodding her head in the right direction.

“Follow that hallway, then through the double doors and up the stairs. Go left, and you’ll see the sign.”

You’re on autopilot, heading straight towards the doors. Bucky follows you quickly, throwing a chaste but genuine thanks to the lady behind the desk as he goes.

“Baby,” he calls after you when you reach the top. “Baby, hold on.”

You spin around, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your bottom lip quivers as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your cheek gently.

“Take a breath, please. You’re gonna faint before you get there.”

You inhale as deeply as possible, your lungs only filling to half capacity. You grab onto his hand for a second, squeezing as hard as you can.

“Okay. Breath done. Let’s go.”

You take off down the hallway, leaving Bucky to jog after you. Finding the big blue sign that reads Cardiology, you storm through the doors, looking around frantically. You spot Room 4 and head straight into it.

The room is all white, clinical and clean. There’s sunshine beaming through the window, but it doesn’t seem to warm the space. It’s cold, almost ominous. It makes it hard to breathe.

The bed is empty, crisp sheets tucked tightly into the plastic sides. Your Mom is sat in the chair beside it. She looks small, swallowed by the blue material.

“Mama.”

You don’t recognise your own voice. It’s choked and strangled, foreign to your ears.

She practically jumps up, striding across the room to wrap you in her arms. Inhaling the familiar scent of home, you hug her back as tightly as you can.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in surgery.”

You breathe a half sigh of relief. You’d feared the worst, when you’d walked in and seen the empty bed.

“What happened?”

Bucky’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you both carefully but giving you space. The tone of his voice is calm, collected. He’s holding it together for you.

“I honestly couldn’t understand it all. They were telling me so much information so fast.”

She sits down in the chair while you and Bucky perch on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“It was supposed to just be an appointment, wasn’t it?”

She nods.

“They did the EKG and weren’t happy with the results, so the nurse put us in this room while she waited for the Doctor. Then the Doctor burst in, talking about blockages and bypasses and emergency surgery.”

Her hands are trembling, neatly manicured nails being picked at repeatedly. Bucky reaches over and links his fingers with hers, all grounded and reassuring.

“They put him in a gown,” she continues, “and all of a sudden they were wheeling him away. I can’t even remember what I said, or if I said goodbye or I love you.”

“Mama, you will have said I love you. I promise you that.”

“She’s right, Lori. You will have said exactly the right thing. You always do.”

She squeezes his hand gratefully, taking a deep breath.

“The Doctor said he had a blockage, and they were worried about blood clotting. That’s why they rushed him in. The nurse said she’d update me when she knew anything, but I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You know what Jack’s like,” Bucky laughs. “He’s the toughest guy I know.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, freshen up a little. Call me if a nurse comes in, won’t you?”

You nod, clasping her hand tightly for a moment.

“Promise, Mama.”

She stands up carefully, inhaling before leaving the room. Your posture instantly crumbles, faked bravado leaving you as soon as she’s out of view.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper.

Bucky hears it clear as day.

He slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around your frame. Pressing a kiss into your hair, he runs his fingertips up and down your spine gently.

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re allowed to be scared. But everything is going to be okay. I know it will be.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble into the cotton of his shirt. “It should, but it doesn’t. That scares me, too.”

Bucky traces the features of your face gently with his thumb, his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours. He dances his finger over the slope of your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. His skin is warm and calloused against yours, polar opposite to how cold you feel.

“I’m your soulmate,” he murmurs, “but I’m not a miracle worker. Fuck, I wish I was. There are gonna be some things that I can’t fix for you, no matter how badly I want to. We just have to ride them out together, sweet girl.”

You nod, leaning in to rest your head against his pounding heart.

It still beats to the rhythm of your name. Even after all this time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You don’t jump apart when your Mom walks back in.

Upon first glance, the picture is simple - a girl being comforted by her Dads best friend. A hug. Reassuring words.

If you look closer, the image becomes a little more complicated - her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. His hand cradling the back of her head. Familiar lips softly pressed to her temple.

Any other time, someone might question the sheer intimacy of the moment. But not now.

Now, all focus is drawn to the nurse in sky blue scrubs that appears in the doorway.

“You’re all Jack’s family?”

You all spin to face her, nodding frantically.

“Thought so. He’s out of surgery, and he’ll be brought up here shortly.”

“Is he alright?” your Mom asks, standing up. You can physically see the tension rising in her body.

“He’s doing okay. The Doctor is going to come up and talk to you a little about some… complications. But he’s okay.”

The reassurance at the end of the sentence doesn’t make any of you feel any better. You’re stuck on the word complications.

As if on cue, your Dad is wheeled in, all laid up cosy in crisp white sheets. He has oxygen tucked up under his nose, tubes and wires attached to his hands. He looks fragile, which is a state you’ve never seen him in before. Usually, he’s larger than life, braver than a bear, with a booming laugh that can make anyone smile. In this current moment, he looks like a little boy again, put to bed softly by his mother on a school night.

They get him situated as the Doctor approaches the three of you, huddled by the chair to stay out of the way.

“The surgery went well. The blockage has been fixed, and hopefully shouldn’t reoccur. We’ll put him on medication for the future, blood thinners most likely, to prevent anything further.”

Your Mom nods, lips pressed together.

“The nurse said there was complications?”

Bucky’s voice is low and careful, the timbre of it reverberating next to you.

“We ran into some trouble with the anaesthetic. We struggled to wake him for quite some time, and then his blood pressure completely bottomed out. We managed to get him steady again, but it was a little touch and go for a minute.”

Your Mom sits down slowly, holding onto the arms of the chair with taut knuckles.

“Your husband is going to be just fine, ma’am. We’ll manage any future worries with meds. Some people just don’t respond well to anaesthesia, especially if they’ve never had it before. We’ll monitor him over the next few days, keep him under observation just in case. But it looks positive. I assure you.”

She inhales, leaning back and exhaling the breath.

“He’ll probably just sleep it off for the rest of today, so don’t worry if he’s barely conscious. His body has been through a trauma, and he needs some time to recover.”

You all nod, Bucky’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours momentarily. He subtly presses a kiss into the nape of your neck, as if to melt the tension away.

You all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“If you need anything, there are always nurses walking around on this floor. They’ll call me if necessary.”

She smiles before leaving, picking up her clipboard as she goes.

“Thanks, Doctor!” Bucky calls after her, making both you and your Mom laugh softly.

The three of you remain still for a while, scared to make any sudden moves. Eventually, Bucky stretches his legs.

“I’m gonna grab some coffees. The usuals?”

You both nod at him.

“Be right back. Call me if you need anything.”

You can’t take your eyes off him as he leaves. You miss his warmth instantly.

“He’s a good guy,” your Mom whispers to you from the chair, where you’re perched on the armrest. She’s watching him go too.

You hum in agreement.

“He looks out for you.”

You hum in agreement once again, albeit this time a little quieter.

“You guys are close, these days.”

You inhale calmly.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s got my back.”

“He likes you a lot.”

Before she can continue, your Dads eyes flutter open slowly. You both jump up, standing on either side of his bed.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh lighting.

“How you feeling, tough guy?”

He smiles softly, and the relief that fills your body is so overwhelming, you feel as if your legs might give out. You hold onto the metal bars of the bed for support, praying you stay upright.

He groans a little, throat hoarse.

“Water?”

Your Mom puts the straw in his mouth, nodding in approval as he sips.

“I’m good,” he croaks. “Got my girls with me.”

You both laugh.

“Jack, as much as I’d love to be your girl…”

Bucky is stood against the doorframe, keeping a careful distance from the family moment. Your Dad chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re the prettiest one, Buck,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. You all can’t help but laugh even more.

“How you feeling, honey?”

“Fine. Tired, though.”

“The Doctor said you’d most likely just sleep it off all day. Go back to sleep, if you want to. We’re right here.”

He nods, closing his eyes instantly. Your Mom settles back in the chair as Bucky hands her a coffee. He goes to give you yours, but you place it down on the side table.

“I’m gonna get some air. Be back in a minute.”

He gives you a look that says are you sure?, but you’re already out the door, not glancing back.

“She doesn’t like hospitals.”

Bucky nods in recognition, but can’t focus on anything except the severe levels of rising anxiety in his chest.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.

You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.

Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.

The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.

You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.

Suddenly, there are two strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into a solid chest. You relax against it, tired of fighting.

“It’s me, baby. Shit, it’s me.”

The voice is panicked, almost frantic in the way it hits your ears. There’s a hand stroking over your hair, strumming over your cheekbone, squeezing your shoulder. You wonder for a second if anyone has ever died from something like this. You feel as if you’re pretty close.

“You’ve got to start slowing your breathing, honey. Can you hear me?”

You think you nod. You assume you do, because the voice continues.

“Put your hand on my heart,” he says as he does it for you. “Just like that. Can you feel the beat of it, underneath your palm? It sounds like a drum, right? One two, one two, one two. Can you focus on it?”

You try to hone into the sound. You think you might be able to distantly feel it, where your hand meets his shirt.

“How about if we create a pattern together? And we’ll both follow it? Like this.”

The voice tilts your chin upwards, so you’re looking into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Breathe when I breathe, okay? In, and out,” he inhales and exhales. “In, and out. There we go, atta girl. In, and out. You got it.”

You stay collapsed on the sidewalk for what feels like hours, breathing when he tells you to. You focus your vision on his ocean blue irises, finding your home in them. Eventually, you feel like you’re somewhat filling your lungs, and the world stops spinning.

“There she is.”

You drop your head onto his chest, warm tears soaking into the material of his shirt.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You finally let yourself relax, sagging against his body as he holds you close.

“Fuck, you scared me. Are you hurt?”

You don’t even know the answer to that question yourself.

Bucky starts checking you over, looking for any visible injuries. When he reaches your knees, he inhales sharply.

“Shit, baby. We’ll have to get some antiseptic on these grazes of yours. You’ll have some badass bruises tomorrow, tough girl.”

You realise, slowly, where you are. You’re on the sidewalk outside the hospital, sat on the floor, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. You try to stand up too quickly, and wobble backwards.

“Woah, easy. There we go. Come sit over here with me.”

There’s a wooden bench not far from the entrance, tucked in between a hedge and a flowerbed. You take a seat, surveying the bloody mess of your knees as you do.

“They look worse than they are, baby. Promise. We’ll fix them when we go back upstairs.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you and tugs you into his side.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”

“Don’t like hospitals,” you whisper. “Never have.”

“Is there… any particular reason? Or is it just one of those things?”

“Spent a lot of time here when I was younger,” you admit quietly. “I was kind of a sick kid. Had my own set of issues. Lots of appointments and stuff.”

Bucky nods against the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“You never mentioned anything.”

“Didn’t think it was relevant.”

He hums.

“I’m sorry,” you confess. “For causing a scene. Being dramatic.”

“Honey,” he scolds. “You’re not dramatic. We’ve all got our fears, the things that make us tick. I promise you, no one thinks you’re dramatic. You feel how you feel, and that’s okay.”

You sigh in defeat, pulling your knees up under your chin.

“I think I was holding it together until I saw he was okay. When I knew he was fine, I just… crumbled.”

“That’s a perfect reflection of your character, you know. Keeping it together for everyone else.”

You chuckle dryly.

“Maybe. I suppose.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you sit outside for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in each others embrace.

“We should probably go back up. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

You go to stand up, but Bucky pulls you back down onto the bench.

“Honey, wait. There’s something we need to… talk about, before we go.”

You turn to face him, and instantly tense up. He looks worried.

“Buck, what is it?”

“I… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Or how we’re meant to handle this. I really, really don’t know what the best angle is here.”

“You’re scaring me,” you say as you cradle his face. His scruff tickles your palm, and any other time, you both would have laughed.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[lets-try-some-writing]

Pursued

It's Halloween night, and Rafael is more than ready to settle in for the night at base with his friends. Unfortunately, Rafael is not so lucky as to rest peacefully. Instead, something darker has plans for him.

(In honor of Halloween, enjoy a little horror story I have composed for you lovely lot. Might not be for you if you can't handle suspense.)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Lights off.” Arcee cut the power with a firm but not unkind declaration. Rafael snuggled up in his sleeping bag, smiling as the smallest of the Autobots trecked further into the base, leaving him and his friends to rest after their night of running from door to door. There had been discussions about going home for the night, but after a lot of pleading from Miko, Optimus had seen fit to let them stay, for which Rafael was more than a little grateful. He’d rather not wake up to find half his goods from the night’s rampage around town gone and likely hidden away in his siblings dressers and lunch boxes. 

Being the youngest was the worst sometimes.

“Goodnight guys.” He called out softly, earning a series of murmured replies from Miko and Jack, who both seemed far too exhausted to mutter anything coherent. Rafael smiled, contented at the sound of their breathing as it eased and slowed. 

His mind calmed, his heart slowed in its previously nervous fluttering, and before long, Rafael found himself yawning. The dark void of the base’s roof was comforting enough that the pull of sleep didn’t feel far off. He was safe, in a base filled with his friends and guarded by some of the universe’s most powerful bots. Everything was fine.

He was fine.

His eyes started to close, and as they did, a faint murmur echoed in his mind. He couldn’t make out the words, not entirely. But just before he drifted off, a single sentence rang out crystal clear, almost as if spoken by someone right by his ears.

‘I will make you regret helping them.’

Fear shot through every part of his body in one jarring sensation that sent him all but careening to his feet. The floor was cold as he stepped out of his sleeping bag, and the darkness of the base felt all the more ominous. He wasn’t tired anymore, not in the slightest. Something was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint quite what it was, not at first.

And then he looked around.

Miko and Jack were gone. Their shoes were undisturbed, and when Rafael hurried over to touch their discarded sleeping arrangements, he found that their sleeping bags were stone cold, as if they’d not been in them for some time, if at all. He couldn’t help but clutch one of Miko’s stuffed animals, the blue bear that normally hung from her belt. As he stood and looked around, the only light that he could see came from the dim glow of Ratchet’s console. There was no sound aside from his breathing, and it only served to make Rafael clutch the bear even tighter.

“Hello? Guys?” His voice rang out eerily, only serving to have his hair stand on end rather than comfort him. There was no reply to his plea. Not a sound or a whisper. It was all… silent.

His heart raced as he looked around, double checking to be sure he was seeing things right. Was he dreaming? It didn’t feel much like a dream. The air was too chilly, and the floor was far too cold against his feet. He was no stranger to nightmares, but none of them had ever felt quite like this. Not nearly so real. 

"This... this is fine. I just need to find one of the bots.” He attempted to reassure himself, pitching his voice up a notch with faux cheerfulness even as he fumbled to grab his glasses. Once they were firmly in place, he strapped on his shoes, socks forgotten in his relative haste, and made his way to the ground. 

He did not let go of Miko’s bear.

“Ratchet? Bee?” His voice rang out in the empty base as he moved, his small feet pattering as if in mockery of his own existence. The base had always felt like a second home, but given light only from the far off console, it felt as though he were intruding on the home of giants, or perhaps things not meant to be disturbed. 

He tried not to acknowledge the way his eyes threatened to well with panic induced tears as he passed the console and made his way toward the long hall leading toward the bots and their personal rooms. He’d never been in any of them, but maybe if he wandered that way, someone would hear him.

“Guys? What’s going on?” Again and again he called out as he walked. He received no response, not even once. And yet, the farther into the base he moved, the more uneasy he became. Where silence once reigned, there were now faint sounds, pattering in the dark that felt so much heavier than his own steps. For brief moments, he thought he saw the outline of Miko or Jack behind him, but travelling in the increasing darkness made him doubt his own eyes, poor as they were.

Louder and louder, the noises rang out. Rafael clutched the bear even tighter as he recognized the heavy marching of one of the bots. Eyes blazed in the dark, cycling and viewing the world like spotlights. He didn’t know who it was, but as bright blue eyes gazed down on him, Rafael felt nothing but fear.

“You should not be here. It is far past your bedtime.” Arcee’s voice echoed in the hall, but Rafael found no comfort in it as the spotlights grew nearer, her voice even louder.

“Let me take you back to your bed. You are up far too late.” Her shadowy form drew nearer, and as it did, her shining eyes let Rafael view small portions of her frame. As a clawed hand reached out for him, Rafael’s eyes widened in horror as he caught sight of so much red splattered across her fingers.

“Come now. Don’t be afraid.” Her voice was sweet, but Rafael didn’t hesitate to run. He dropped the bear in his haste, and in the brief moment he took to look back, he saw Arcee’s claws digging into the concrete where he once stood, the bear shredded between her talon like fingers.

“Rafael.” Her voice rang in warning, but he merely bit back a scream of terror as he darted around a corner, frantically searching for an escape. Her heavy steps thundered behind him, increasing in loudness and speed as he frantically searched.

“Rafael.” Another voice joined the chorus, another set of heavy steps getting in line with the march. Rafael’s breath came heavy and labored as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, trying not to trip over anything in the void that spread out before him. What was going on? What was happening?

Why was Arcee covered in blood?

He shook his head, fighting back tears and sobs in equal measure as he felt along the wall, searching for a door, a vent, anything he could shove himself into to avoid his fate.

“RAFAEL!” He heard Ratchet and Bulkhead, and somewhere amidst their near-shrieking voices was the unmistakable binary of Bumblebee’s voice. They were all so close he could practically feel them, their feet so loud in hitting the ground that all else was deafening. Their glowing eyes lit the world around him, but as they did, he could sense them closing in. Why wasn’t he faster? He had to be faster!

He screamed and sobbed as Ratchet’s foot came about an inch away from squishing him into paste. He threw his arms up over his head, despite knowing it would do nothing as he ran. His glasses were barely staying on and his vision was blurry from tears. Their steps were so loud and their eyes so bright that everything was a mess of sensation. His lungs burned, his legs ached as his feet pounded against the ground, trying in vain to gain some sort of distance.

As their eyes all focused on him, Rafael could feel cold and cruel realization sink in.

He was going to die here unless he acted and did so fast.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, leading Rafael to frantically use the lights of his prusuers to scan the walls.

There, a vent. It looked small, perfect for him.

He readied himself, taking in as much air as he could before he threw himself to the side, just in time to avoid Bumblebee’s foot colliding with his body. He skidded across the ground, watching as the spotlights started to scatter, searching for him once more. Rafael didn’t take more than a second to recompose himself, uncaring of his bruised knees and side as he crawled to the vent. He silently thanked Miko for undoing most of the bolts in order to get around as he tugged on the thin metal covering, forcing it open.

He just about threw up in sheer terror as every single one of the bots focused in on the source of the sound, watching as Rafael shoved his body into the small tunnel to escape their gaze.

“Come back out here, you little-!” He didn’t know who was talking; all he knew was that it was deafening as he crawled deeper into the vent, desperate to get away. Everything hurt, and his head pounded from the constant noise. He could hear the bots chattering behind him, one of them screeching in outrage. His body shook in primal terror as one of their eyes glared into the vent, lighting up the entire space for a brief moment before what he could only assume was a curse escaped their mouth.

He didn’t stop. No matter how much his body ached, he forced himself to crawl ever deeper. He was cold, his knees were bleeding from his brush with death, and his head rang from the screeching of his pursuers. But on he went, not stopping until he’d gone through enough twists and turns to feel even somewhat safe. He paused by a vent cover, not sitting too close for fear of being grabbed but still near enough to wait for light that didn’t come from watching eyes.

Something was obviously wrong with the bots. Mind control, maybe? Or perhaps it was another Makeshift incident. It wasn’t them. It couldn’t be them.

It couldn’t have been real blood.

"Jack, Miko, please be okay.” Rafael shivered, his teeth chattering as he brought his knees up to his chest. He sniffled, wiping away mucus and snot that threatened to run down his face. He tried not to think about how much it hurt.

He just had to wait. Once morning came, he’d be safe.

“Rafael.” He heard his name again, this time softer, less cruel. But that fact hardly registered as he frantically threw his hands up to his ears, praying to every higher power out there that he wouldn’t be found.

He had no such luck.

“Rafael, it’s Optimus. I know you are scared, but you must listen to me.” No no no no no. He wasn’t dying here.

“Leave me alone!” Rafael screamed, trying to drag himself further into the vent. But before he could, the nearest vent cover was torn off, and the blazing light stopped him in his tracks. He turned to look, drawn in by the glow against his will. It was Optimus’s eye; that much was certain. But instead of glowing blue, it glowed white.

“I am here to help you, Rafael. I wish to assist you in escaping this nightmare, but I cannot do so unless you let me. Without your consent, the grip he holds over you is too strong for me to tamper with.” Most of the words flew right over Rafael’s head, but the sheer calming presence of the Prime eased him enough that for a brief moment, he felt safe again. Hesitantly, he moved closer to the opening, and as he did so, Optimus moved back.

As he stuck his head out of the opening, he looked down to see the Prime watching him quietly. The vent was right next to where he and his friends had been sleeping less than an hour ago. To him, it seemed more like a mockery than a relief.

“You will be safe with me, at least for a time.” Optimus held up a hand, but he did not smile. It was unnerving, but far less dangerous than the rest. Quietly, he slid from his safe haven and onto Optimus’s hand, watching the Prime fearfully as he carried them both toward the console. The faint glow of the device was a welcome comfort as it drove back the darkness.

“Listen to me, child.” Optimus’s voice was deep and almost guttering as he set Rafael down on the edge of the console. Their eyes met as Optimus stared down at him, blinding white, both a comfort and a deadly warning.

“On nights such as these, the Unmaker stirs. His essence runs with more fluidity, and those who have been touched by him are more susceptible to his designs.” Optimus’s eyes shifted, the delicate mechanisms turning like the facets to some grand key that Rafael could not comprehend. Still, he nodded as he tried not to focus too much on the noises of the bots slowly working their way back to the main part of the base.

“You were touched by his essence, and because of that, he has gained a degree of influence over your mind.” Optimus raised a finger, gently touching the top of Rafael’s head. It was soothing, but there was a lingering weight that left him itching to move as the Prime continued.

“I have used my influence to reach you in this place, but there is little else I can do.” The steps of the bots grew louder, and Rafael started to shrink in fear. He looked around, frantically searching for his pursuers. But Optimus’s words drew him back.

“Listen to me. Unicron feeds off torment. To escape this place, you must take a leap of faith.” The sounds grew closer. Rafael shook so much he could hardly process what Optimus was saying. What was he supposed to do?

“He will keep you here, trapped until you fight back. Face the doom that awaits you with honor, and he shall have no satisfaction.” He wanted to scream as Optimus stepped away from the console, the comforting light of his eyes fading as the Prime moved to stand at the far end of the space, observinging in silence.

“Wait!” He wailed in fear as the bots entered, their eyes all falling on Rafael like he was some sort of prey animal. Every single fiber of his being demanded he run, but as he looked over to the Prime, he saw Optimus mouthing the words over and over again, as if forcefully silenced.

‘Face the doom that awaits you with honor.’

He stood on the edge of the console, watching with tears blurring his vision as the bots gathered around. They stood like judges, staring into Rafael’s very soul as their towering frames crowded above him. The fear was overwhelming. He could already feel his heart pounding like a drum in his chest, threatening to burst from the stress of it all.

“No more running, little mouse.” Ratchet spoke up, and as he raised his hand above Rafael’s head, he saw blood staining his digits too. His legs shook, his body chilled. Time seemed to slow, and as it did, Rafael found himself presented with two choices.

The console behind him was clear. If he bolted, he could hide and run back toward another vent, hopefully escaping in time. He’d done so once; he could do so again. But if he ran... would it really change anything? Optimus said this was Unicron’s work. Could he really escape the power of a godlike entity?

Looking past his pursuers, Rafael saw Optimus watching, still as stone. And yet as he observed, his mouth continued to form silent words.

‘Face the doom that awaits you.’

Tears gathered in his eyes again. The urge to run felt like it was drowning him. But against every instinct, Rafael stayed still. He wiped the tears from his eyes and stared up at Ratchet’s hand as it began to lower. What if this was real? What if Optimus was wrong? What if this was where he died?

‘Face the doom that awaits you.’

The hand lowered. Eyes glowed brighter as laughter echoed all around him. And yet, whenever Rafael looked at Optimus, the words continued on endlessly. 

‘Face the doom-’

“Face the doom.” He murmured the words that ran on repeat in his head. They drowned out the laughter as Ratchet’s bloodied hand drew ever nearer.

“Face the doom.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his arms, trying not to focus on the dampness of his clothes that came from exertion. 

“Face it with honor.” His voice was barely a squeak, his entire body shaking like a leaf. But with all the will he had left in his soul, Rafael forced himself to stand still.

“Face it with honor!" In a burst of courage, he opened his eyes and glared just as the hand came down on his head. There was momentary pain, then blackness. For a brief moment, there was nothing except his screaming thoughts, telling him again and again that he’d failed and that this was his end.

Then he woke up.

He shot up with a gasp, clutching at the plush surface of his sleeping bag. His entire body was drenched in sweat, his breathing fast and erratic. And yet, as Rafael looked around in a daze, he saw that Miko and Jack were sound asleep next to him, both perfectly safe and at ease.

“You did well, Rafael.” Optimus’s voice washed over him like a soothing tide, and before he knew it, comforting white eyes let their gentle glow grace him once more. 

“The Unmaker shall trouble you no more. You have broken free of his grasp, at least for this night.” Optimus leaned closer, his face coming up near to the bars separating the platform Rafael was on from the rest of the base.

“Rest now. We shall ward off his foul machinations.” Optimus’s eyes flashed, a surge of colors and hues shifting into place before it returned to that chilling, and yet oh so calming, white. Despite the terror, Rafael found himself relaxing back into his sleeping bag, unusual exhaustion washing over him as the Prime sang a song he couldn’t understand.

“We have fought him once, and we will do so again. Be at ease, child of Earth. Your duty is done.” With those final words, Rafael again found his eyes closing.

And this time, there were no whispers.

[peachsukii]

Home Sweet Home 🧡

It’s had been two weeks since you last saw Katsuki in person. He’d been called away on a mission in the next province over - four hours away. It wasn’t anything new to the two of you, since pro-heroes were sent all over the place, wherever they’re needed. He had a week left before he was set to come home.

Your phone buzzed, his name appearing on the caller ID as you laid back in bed. A smile crossed your lips as you answer, his beautiful features coming into focus on your screen.

“Hiya Kats,” you greet cheerfully, snuggling into the pillows to get comfortable.

“Hey baby, you look comfy. That hoodie’s gotten a lotta mileage,” he teases, pointing out the oversized Dynamight hoodie you had on.

“It’s the closest thing I have to being wrapped up in you, I never take it off around the house.”

Katsuki chuckles at how much you miss him. “Not much longer until ya get the real thing. Did y’eat dinner yet?”

“Yeah, I heated up that last of the frozen dinners you made. Now I’ll have to suffer with subpar food until you come home,” you joke. You love his cooking and could never quite mimic it, no matter if you followed his recipe or not.

You can’t tell where he’s at in the video, but it’s extremely dark.

“Where are you? It looks like you’re on patrol or something.”

He grins. “Somethin’ like that.”

You scrunch your brows. “That’s not ominous or anything.”

A brief glimpse in the background shows a familiar set of buildings as he’s walking down the dimly lit street. You squint your eyes to analyze his surroundings.

“Wait, are you…?” you trail off as the realization hits you.

You throw the blankets off the bed and bolt down the hallway of the apartment, phone in hand as you hear Katsuki cackling over the video at your reaction. The apartment door’s lock is clicking as you round into the living room, the door opening to reveal your favorite hero standing before you.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be long,” he says as he drops his bag on to the floor.

Before he can even close the door, you’re running to his side, colliding with his chest as you throw your arms around him, your phone dropping to the ground while you burrow your face against him.

Katsuki laughs heartily. “At least let me close the damn door.”

“Nope, couldn’t wait.”

“Impatient like always.”

He shuts the door, scooping you up into his arms as you lock your legs around his waist in a full embrace. The size of the hoodie swallows your figure in his hold, but he can’t help but think just how cute you look in his merch and how it comforted you while he was away.

“I missed you,” you whisper, nuzzling into the crook of his neck lovingly. “It was too quiet without you here.”

“Missed you too, baby. Sleepin’ alone after bein’ used to your snoring was weird.”

You wiggle in his hold and smack him playfully in the chest. “I don’t snore!”

“Sure ya don’t. You’re lucky it’s cute.”

Katsuki takes your cheek in his hand, balancing you on his hip effortlessly as he kisses you breathless.

“Not bein’ able to touch you whenever I wanted was hell, too.”

You giggle as you run your hand through his hair.

“Well, get to it, Dynamight. Don’t keep a girl waiting.”

He doesn’t waste another second before throwing you over his shoulder and skipping off toward the bedroom, toothy smile and all.

“Your wish is my command, princess.”

i'd never take off that hoodie tbh and force him to wear it so it smells like him forever !

[muzansfangs]

Hiii! I hope ur still accepting requests. Recently, an idea has stuck in my head. What about taking bath with Aizen and his s/o? I hope you will accept it!

Cleanse my soul.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to Shinji Hirako, Kisuke Urahara, Kensei Muguruma, Rojuro Otoribashi, Lisa Yadomaru, Hiyori Sarugaki;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, cock-warming, vaginal sex, creampie, fear play, smoking, clit-edging, jealousy, nudity, Lieutenant Aizen, morally grey reader, mention to attempted murder, violence, gore, blood, talks about the future, betrayal, trust issues, turn back the pendolum arc, established relationship;

Plot: He was back, knocking on your door in the dead of the night. His Lieutenant badge had been damaged, the gleam in his chestnut eyes telling you he had succeeded in accomplishing his plan. He always seeked your company, after long days of work and unspeakable crimes committed to chase his dream of becoming a God. You were the only thing he would have never given up to on his climb to the Heaven.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Reading by the window to distract yourself, you had watched in agitation the way your Captain had left the barracks to investigate on the sudden disappearence of Kensei Muguruma and and some members of his squad. Your stomach churned, apprehension leaving space to the mournful feeling of being forced to accept a brutal reality no one else in your Division was prepared for: at the end of the night, you were either going to say goodbye to Hirako Shinji, your Captain, or to Sosuke Aizen, his Lieutenant, your boyfriend.

No one else knew what was really happening, besides you, Kaname Tosen and Gin Ichimaru, the young prodigy Sosuke seemed to be so enthusiastic about. The secrets you harbored behind your soft smile, when you conversed with your friends, as if you had not just witnessed to some poor inhabitants of the Rukongai vanishing before you wary eyes, when you lied for him, when you cradled his face in your hands and reassured him everything was going to be okay, when he silently pleaded you to cleanse his soul by fucking you up against a wall and telling you the world was soon going to acclaim you their queen, were slowly consuming you up from the inside like acid sizzling the delicate walls of your stomach.

Despite that, you had chosen him above anything and anyone else. You were the priest absolving him from the sins he kept on staining his soul with for the sake of his ideals. The real question was: who cleansed your soul?

You often queried whether his efforts to keep your hands clean were actually successful. You were not innocent. You were guilty as well. You had just betrayed the Soul Society and your friends. Your idle tongue was as sharp as Sosuke’s blade. You wondered how many of your friends had already fallen by your boyfriend’s hand. A massacre was taking place outside and there you were, safe in your dorm and hoping Kisuke Urahara was not going to disrupt your lover’s plans.

Someone knocking on your door made you flinch, back straightening as a ramrod as you settled your book down on the ebony desk, careful not to make a sound. What if Sosuke had failed? Maybe he had sold you off too, after being arrested. The mere thought of your beloved boyfriend throwing you to the wolves made chills run down your spine and your mouth turn to chalk. Would Sosuke really do such a thing to you? You wondered, once again, if he loved you as much as you did.

You mentally rebuked yourself for assuming the worst. Sosuke loved you. Why were you doubting his feelings for you? Probably, you were just projecting onto your relationship the ominous feelings, swallowing you in a whirlwind of fear and anxiety, that you experienced when you watched him work cold-heartedly, sacrificing souls, to the chilling phenomen known as Hollowfication.

Your hand reached for your zanpakuto, your bare feet sliding onto the wooden floor without making a sound, just like he had taught you throughout the years you had spent together. You took a sharp intake of breath, tightening your grip on the hilt of your katana until your knuckles turned white. The visitor was masterly suppressing their reiatsu, making it impossible to detect their presence and identify who they were. You knew what you had to do, in case Sosuke’s failed and the guards went after you. Killing comrades, however, was entirely different from massacring Hollows. You were a shinigami, not an assassin. If the person knocking on your door was not your boyfriend, your blade was going to drip viscous, crimson blood of a shinigami.

Hiding your katana behind your back, you slided the door open, ready to become a full-fledged traitress. The lean frame occupying the threshold made you discard the blade onto the floor instinctively, the sound of the weapon clattering against the parquet echoing in the silent night, as your hands clutched the fabric of Sosuke’s shihakushō and pulled him inside. He had come back safe and sound.

It only meant one thing: the Fifth Division had lost its Captain.

You relished the bittersweet taste of happiness achieved through betrayal, when you smashed your lips onto his, hand scrambling to your side to slide the door shut. Yet, you had learnt to be selfish, you had grown familiar with the sensation of enjoying moments of peace and unbridled excitement, when other people were in pain. Sosuke held you close to his chest, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you back with equal fervor. His hair were disheveled, the badge indicating his status of Lieutenant was gone, the black fabric of his uniform torn in some parts, dirt dusted his clothes and visage.

“Are you hurt?” you dared murmuring against his lips, ignoring the way he was already trying to disrobe you.

“Unscathed. — he shortly informed you — But I could use a bath” he added, mouth voraciously assaulting the crook of your neck, whilst you were attempting to make a small conversation to know details about his victory.

However, right now, when you were in his arms and his teeth were nipping at your tender flesh, Sosuke did not seem to give a iota about further explanations. He had won. He had promised to come back to you and there he was, pushing you towards the bathroom, heedless of the corners biting onto your sides as he forced you to stumble backwards to reach the destination he had chosen for you two to spend the rest of the night at.

You winced pathetically against his lips, the chilly, wintry air blowing through the small, wide-open window of your bathroom leaving goosebumps on your now naked shoulderblades. The rustle of your clothes landing onto the floorboard accompanied you to the edge of the bath, as he finally let go of you and began to undress himself before your glossy, dreamy eyes.

No matter how many times you had traced the outlines of his abs with your lips, or fingertips, every single time his body was bared for you to contemplate you lost any cognitive capacity of thinking straight. Sosuke had always got you in a chokehold from the day you first met at the Academy.

He was that kind of man who outfoxed everyone around him, the sweet-natured guy with glasses no one would have ever accused of committing bloodcurdling felonies. Sosuke Aizen was far from being an ordinary man, some stranger easy to forget about. He had captivated you effortlessly in the palms of his hands, like a clueless butterfly delicately landing on the fruity, multicolored petals of a carnivorous plant only to be devoured to the bone. You had become one with him.

You realized you had been fantasizing about him again only when his hand reached for you chin, forcing you to crane up your neck and meet his gaze. His glasses were gone, his beautiful chestnut brown eyes boring into yours in anticipation as he brushed his thumb over your cheek “Focus on me” he commanded, his words no longer sugar-coated, the typical honeyed tone slipping out of his mouth when he talked to you absent.

His ravenous side strived to take over, evidently. He desired you like a helpless shipwrecked person hoped to find water in a deserted island, adrift amidst the salty water of the Ocean.

Seldomly you had recognized the diabolic gleam in his eyes outside the safe walls of your dorms. His lust, his thirst for power, his greed and ambitions were never showcased in his ever so kind eyes, the same pretty eyes bewitching you right now. Sosuke was the incarnation of the infamous wolf in sheep’s clothing. He had people bamboozled, unable to see him as nothing less than a noble, proficient and polite man minding his business and even reprimanding his Captain for the sake of his Division.

A man with leardship, but uncapable of doing any harm.

Perhaps, it was because you knew him so intimately that his demons had grown familiar with yours that you often asked yourself if you were a mere pawn in his hands, a pretty diamond pin to wear in order to fool people about his real intentions. You hesitated, a small frown creasing your forehead as you watched Sosuke impassibly stare at you in confusion.

“Tell me something, Sosuke. — you started, miraculously modulating your voice in a firm but soft tone — Are you going to abandon me, once the world will be in your hands?”.

His eyes clouded over for a moment, your stomach churning in apprehension. What if you had ruined it all? You impudent mouth, your lips quivering in fright, your heart pumping fast in your chest had revealed you were scared of losing him, or to be fair, of him.

Sosuke’s jaw clenched, his other hand gripping your hip to push you back towards the cool edge of the tub, the still warm water sparkling under the moonlight dimly enlightening the room “When the world will be nothing but a possession of mine, I will give it to you” he stated, making your stomach somersault.

Regrets for having even asked him such a silly question gnawed at your stomach, guilty conscience weighing on your shoulders like a heavy read. You blinked a few times in a row, watching as your boyfriend sidestepped you to climb into the tub. The sound of the water splashing onto the floor, overflowing from the edge, filled the air. Sosuke leaned his back against the bath, arms comfortably positioned on each side of it, penetrative gaze commanding you to join him.

Resisting was impossible. Entering the water, you snuggled into his chest, your back adhering to his firm abs as your neck reclined. Your hair tickled his chin, his jawline, his eyes closing to finally relax. He would have never admitted it, but you could tell he was exhausted. Even Kings needed to slack off, to ignore their duties and enjoy the small moments of bliss their life granted them.

“I need you to believe in me” he spoke out then, velvet voice playing the chords of your heart, as you swallowed thickly.

“I believe in you”.

“Then don’t doubt my love for you. Never” he asked of you tiredly, his arms now leisurely encircling your waist to bring your body closer to his, skin to skin, his mouth gliding down the curve of your neck.

You hummed, thighs parting, when his hand slipped further down your body, disappearing underneath the translucent water “I’m sorry. But this is all so scary, Sosuke. I was afraid—”.

“Afraid of what? That you mattered less than glory and honorifics?”.

You squeezed your eyes shut, his deft fingers parting your dewy folds as if they were a syrupy fig for him to feast on, the scene reminding you of a depraved bucolic lyric about a Greek, Attic shepherd corrupting a modest nymph by a river. A blasphemy you were condoning sheepishly.

The moans you let out were not the answers he was trying to coax you to pronounce “Answer me” he pressed.

“N-No!” you stammered, hips rocking as he plunged a finger into your tight hole, causing him to pull it out and gently pinching on your clit. While the action obviously did not hurt you, it sent waves of electricity running through your body. You jolted onto your seat, toes curling as you lolled your head back onto his shoulder.

Sosuke’s teeth nibbled onto your earlobe, before he hushed you “Hush, love. Can you just recall what I have taught you? Provide me a good argumentation and I won’t prolong this torture further” he whispered, his brown eyes shifting to a small cabinet at his right, making his blood boil in his veins.

Why did you still keep such an object in your house?

Were you maybe going behind his back? Were you actually siding with that frowsy scientist he had taken care of nearly an hour ago? Kisuke Urahara would have not been a problem anymore, whatever was the reason behind your injudicious decision of discarding that water-pipe in such a place for his eyes to see. A small test of your loyalty would have sufficed to prove how deeply you cared for him, to understand whether your devotion was pure and solely on him, or not.

Hazy, you clasped your hand over your mouth to muffle out another whimper threatening to erupt from your throat. Rationality left your body, when he touched you. How were you supposed to force your brain to properly function, when Sosuke was flicking your throbbing clitoris torturously between his thumb and index? Despite that, you knew damn well the only solution to your problem was doing exactly what he had said.

Tears prickling in your expressive eyes, you pushed your knees together, only for Sosuke to chide you and run his fingers through your drenched hair. His nails scraped your scalp ever so lightly, but it was enough to stop your futile struggle.

“You have such a pretty mouth, darling. Let me hear your voice, hm?” he mumbled, one of his arms sliding around your abdomen and pulling you flush against him while the other pinched your clitoris again.

You squealed out in overstimulation, your body too sensitive to endure more of this edging. It was his usual wicked game of power and self-control. Sosuke was in command, yet he made sure you always had your chance to make his ministrations cease. All you had to do was playing your part, like a pretty ballerina moving under his instructions. A false step and you sprained your ankle.

You huffed, cheeks heating up in embarrassment and shame for your total lack of backbone, when it came done to him “A Goddess shall never be afraid” you blurted out, sinking further into the water as a satisfied hum resonated from behind you.

True to his words, he stopped playing with your pearl, fingers merely delving into your pussy instead. Scissoring them gently into your warm cavern, Sosuke pressed his lips against your nape, eyes darkening in lust and a something shady you had failed to see due to your position.

“That’s right. You’re the future wife of a God. No matter how powerful and cruel a divinity is… — he started, one of his hand reaching out to grasp that water-pipe irking him to no end — A man is nothing without his woman” he finished, inspecting the smoking device between his fingers.

His words had left you breathless, your inner walls squeezing his fingers as you writhed in his arms. Your moans echoed in your small dorm, probably the shinigamis in the backyard had heard you too, but you did not care, nor did him. They knew better than coming after the Lieutenant’s girlfriend.

The respect he had gained through the years surpassed even the one your comrades had for the late Shinji Hirako.

Your eyelids had shut, relishing into the way he fingered you so deliciously, and your mouth was hanging open to release those shamelessly high-pitched cries of pleasure he loved so much. The hard wood of the pipe resting against your bottom lip, though, made your eyes snap open again.

Dread washed over you, as Sosuke’s fingers tangled your hair, yanking them back harshly “You still keep his gifts. Smoke for me then. Smoke to celebrate his incoming downfall, darling” he crooned, your blood running cold in your veins as he gripped your wrist and directed your hand up to make you grab the object yourself.

Yout shaky hands did wrap around it, teary eyes meeting his cold ones “S-Sosuke, I am sorry! I just forgot to throw it away, I promise” you apologized profusely, watching how he softly smiled at you and prompted you to raise your hips enough for him to impale you onto his cock.

“I know you did. — he cooed, the bulbous head of his shaft stretching your aching hole, as you languidly looked at him and whimpered as he buried himself deep into your welcoming core — I suggest you to smoke in his honor one last time, darling. Cry for his departure” he whispered, mouth leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck.

And you mourned Kisuke’s fate. Oh, you did it so convincingly, for after cock-warming your beloved boyfriend for a while he then began to thrust into you in hard, punishing thrusts making you sob tears of pleasure. You hiccuped, blurry vision, smoke filling your lungs, as you exaled through your nostrils.

Body sore, heat overflowing with Sosuke’s hot seed, you collapsed against chest. His arms held you close to him, as he watched the device sink into the now murky water, forgotten forever like the destiny of all those Captains and Lieutenants who had been unlucky to cross his path.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Uhm, I feel too ashamed to say anything about this. If it is not toxic, it’s not Sosuke to me. Ah, my first red flag crush… Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I adored writing it!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @onyxino @velaenaa @villainsrtasty @stygianoir @noirfan12 @bucciaratizippers @linkwho1 @0wh1te0 @bakugosgirl01 @persuasivus because I think you might enjoy it💫

[l0serloki]

omg i just got to know u write for jjk too!! I originaly was following you because of your valorant stuff and i love your writing style and those cute gifs you add at the start of every post <3

If its not alot can you please make some short drabbles/headcannons for the jjk men (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso, megumi) where its late at night you are all cuddled up and you hear something from downstairs, the man get all protective thinking its an intruder and go check it out. ( you can make it an actual intruder and add a lil fight scene or make it a racoon or a stray cat and make it cute its upto u)

Im sorry if i sound wierd english is not my first language 😅

Intruder Alert

(Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Todo, Sukuna, Choso, Megumi)

A/N : UMMM first off I read Toji as Todo soo.. sorry about that one. Second off thank you so much for the request!! I kinda made these more cracked out than I expected them to be.. I hope you still enjoy and I can always do more if you want.

CW : intruders (duh), casual murder (geto), gojo being an ominous being, Sukuna being on top of you as you wake up

masterlist

Gojo : 

    Your body was cuddled against your boyfriend as you tried to sleep. As quickly as sleep came, it left. There was a sudden noise downstairs that made you jump.

“What was that?!” Gojo turned to you, scratching at his face. 

“I don’t know. It sounded like something downstairs.” You whisper out and the blue eyed freak groaned.

“Don’t worry babe. I’ll go check it out. There’s no need to be scared.” Gojo grabbed at your hand pulling you out of the warm sheets.

“If you’re going to check it out, why are you taking me along with you?” You deadpanned as he corralled you down the stairs. 

“Because babe if I die then you need to avenge me.” Gojo whispered out as he peeked around the corner. His eyes surveyed the kitchen as he crept in.

“Coast is clear- HOLY SHIT!” Gojo fell back, crawling to your feet. You watched as a raccoon jumped down from the counter, scurrying back outside from the open porch door. 

“Satoru, why did you leave the backdoor open..?” You rolled your eyes as you helped the ‘strongest’ man to his feet.

“I thought you did.” He grinned as he got up and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

“Why am I with you?” You chided and he just pouted.

“So mean..”

Geto : 

   “There’s a noise Sugu..” You whisper out as you adjust in his arms. Your eyes stare up at him as he scrolls through the TV.

“It’s probably nothing Y/N. Don’t worry.” He rubbed at your head as he continued to mindlessly stare. You heard steps creeping as you continued to lay there. You couldn’t help but feel anxious and definitely with the warrant out for your boyfriends head.

“Suguru, someone is in the house.” You plead. He only rolls his eyes as he shuffles around in bed. 

“You’re fine-” His eyes widen as the door slams open, a tall man standing in the wake.

“Geto Suguru, it’s nice to finally meet you.” His grin is wicked and you crawl closer to Suguru out of fear.

“It’s not smart breaking into my house, you know.” He grabs at your form and pulls you up. Curses forming behind the estranged man as Geto frowns. 

“Personal preference really. I don’t get why people consider you that strong.” The man shrugs as he gets closer and you flinch as a punch flies past your face. One of his many curses attach to the mans fist. 

“Pathetic. At least I know I need to replace the lock.” Geto rolls his eyes as the man screams in agony, his head exploding from the pressure of the curse.

“Are you okay darling?” Geto bends down to run his hand across your cheek, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to your warnings before. I’ll be more observant for you.” He leaves another peck as he sets you down against the plush pillows of the bed. 

“Give me a moment to clean up and we can cuddle, okay?” 

You only nod as you shake from the violent attack. You knew you were always safe with him but that didn’t make you worry any less. But at the end of the day, you still had him.

“Okay.” You lean in to give him one more kiss as he goes to clean up the ‘leftovers’.

Nanami : 

  You were cradled in Nanami’s arms as you heard rustling around. Nanami gripped tighter at you as the noises became louder. 

“Kento..” You mumbled out. His soft snores filled the room as you tried to wake him up. You squirmed around in his arms trying to get his attention. A scream left your lips as a harsh knock on the bedroom door filled the silence.

Nanami whipped straight up, gripping at his cleaver that sat on the bedside table. 

“Y/N what’s wrong?” He placed a quick kiss against your forehead as another knock sounded at the door. You gave him a scared look and he squeezed your hand.

“Nanami, are you there? I just got done giving Megumi his gift so if you could open up..!” Gojo’s voice filled the silence and you let out a giant sigh. Of course it was Gojo.

“Gojo, what are you thinking sneaking into peoples houses at 3 am. Regardless of time there is a thing called privacy.” Nanami swung the door open, berating the special grade as he started to push him out. Gojo gave you a thumbs up as he sat the gift bag on the chair and continued to struggle against the blondes hold.

“Try the lemon flavor Y/N! I think you will like it!” Gojo calls out as Nanami shuts the door on his face and sighs. He comes back over to the bed, his face worn down as he falls into his pillow. You couldn’t help but laugh at the buffoonery that unfolded.

“Ken are you okay?” You rubbed at his back. He only groaned as he peeked up from the comfort of the bed.

“Can we pretend that never happened?” 

Todo : 

Todo’s face was buried against your chest as he snored. You ran your fingers through his hair as you continued to mindlessly scroll through your phone. You heard noises creaking against the floorboards which attracted your attention.

“What the hell?” You pushed the large man off your chest and stood up to go check out the noise. 

“Huh..? Y/N..” Todo’s hand yanked you back towards the bed, his eyes pleading for you to continue cradling him. 

“There’s someone there Aoi. You have to let me check.” You push his hands away much to his dismay and move to leave the bedroom. His body moves quicker than yours, ripping away at the door.

“Is someone there!?” 

There was a scuttle from a thief grabbing at some of your belongings, his hands flying up as Todo stomped through the hall.

“How dare you ruin my time with Y/N?! I am disgusted!” Todo grabs the thief by his shirt and tears open the window. 

“Todo, the vase!” You screech as your vase teeters and he throws the man out the window, grabbing the nice china in time.

“Stupid. Now let’s go back to the bedroom.” He dusts himself off as he grabs you with one arm and makes his way back into the room.

“Maybe we should check the door..” You gasp against his tight hold as you try to process what just happened.

“The door should try and check me!” He gloats as he places you gently on the bed, still worked up from having his precious time taken from him.

Sukuna : 

    Your body slid in the sheets as you felt hands gripping at your face. Your eyes slowly opened and adjusted to see the beast on top of you. 

“What-” You struggled to speak as his hand pushed your cheeks together.

“Such pretty lips. All for me?” He grinned as you smacked his chest. Sadly this was a recurring theme with the two of you. Whenever Yuji lost control you always somehow had Sukuna trailing close behind you. And although you weren’t particularly happy waking up to such intrusions, you didn’t mind it either.

“Cmon.” Your voice is garbled as he pets your skin and grins.

“No scream for the intruder? I’m disappointed.” He slaps your cheek lightly, not enough to harm you but just enough to wake you up.

“You’re a piece of shit.” You roll your eyes as he chuckles and pulls you flush against him.

“You like it.”

Choso : 

“Baby.. there’s something outside.” Your eyes barely peek above his arm as you hear the scratching at the window. Choso just groaned and pulled you tighter into his embrace.

“It’s okay. Just sleep..” His voice was hoarse as he patted your head. You couldn’t help but still feel anxious, tugging at him to wake up.

“Please..” You jolted as another harsh slap hit the window. Choso sat up and made an annoyed face.

“Who would be stupid enough to come here?” He stomped out of the bed and over to the window. He ripped at the curtains and opened the window. 

“You think it’s funny-” Choso starts only to get backhanded by the tree arm that had apparently been smacking the window. Your eyes widened as he wiped at his face, turning to see you laughing hysterically. He let out a small laugh as he rolled his eyes.

“Glad to see you’re not worried anymore.” He slides back into bed, pulling you flush against him. 

“Baby you didn’t close the window.”

“Really..”

Megumi : 

  Your body rested against Megumi’s as you both cuddled against the sheets. It was a cold night and the heater was all but broken. One of your hands rubbed at the fur of the black dog coating you like a blanket while the other rubbed through your boyfriend's hair.

There was a ruckus from downstairs, your body jolting at the sudden noise. The dog seemed to notice as well, sitting up and growling, ready to protect you and Megumi.

“There’s something..” You pushed against your boyfriend and he slowly wiped the sleep out of his eyes. You arms circled around him as his shinigami jumped down from the floor and went to go sniff out said intruder.

“If someones there we will know. Don’t worry.” Megumi stretched as he tried to get into action. He jostled himself out of the comfy position and opened the door. 

“Really.” His voice was deadpan as the dog came back into the room and jumped on you, unfazed. You were confused - there had to be someone if Megumi was talking.

“Hello dearest son! I brought sweets! Oh and hello Y/N!” Gojo gives a wave as he holds a giant bag out.

“Get out.” Megumi rolls his eyes as he pushes the bag away and shuffles the sorcerer back through the house. You could only chuckle at the interaction and hope that Megumi would tell him to knock next time.

[akutasoda]

Yay! Requests are open!

Can I please request BSD men with an eerie fem! s/o? Not gn.

Like, breathing is always very light, footsteps are silent and even the sounds of her internal organs (heartbeat, blood flowing through her veins) is very faint, she's always smiling and is almost mechanical in her movements and actions. She's her most genuine when giving them affection, is a very pleasant and sweet person but there's just something....off..about her. Like a subconscious feeling they can't quite place but ignore because they love her.

-Sincerely, 💋

mechanical affection

synopsis - how are they when they s/o is eerie and rather ominous

includes - dazai, ranpo, fyodor, jouno

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns mentioned however), fluff, wc - 900

osamu dazai ★↷

↪dazai had met his fair sharre of 'creepy' people throughout his youth, but none of them ever actually scared him or made him slightly uncomfortable. you were the first.

↪what scared him the most was how mechanical you seemed. your actions and expressions seemed too robotic to be your genuine feelings and movements. no part of it seemed biological.

↪he cared little for how quiet your heartbeat and such was. he normally couldn't hear people's heartbeats and he could control his own so that probably was the least eerie part about you.

↪ however the lack of sound when you moved or breathed did put him on edge to begin with. it was too silent for him to let his guard down but when he got used to your presence - and your more sweeter side - he didn't mind too much.

↪ speaking of sweeter side, it did surprise him at first but he loved it. a weird sort of happiness surged through him when you gave him genuine affection for two reasons. one, the fact that only he recieved this sid eof you and two, he'd never recieved this level of affection before and getting it from you? it became a great comfort.

↪if the mafia raught him anything, it was that he should always be on guard around suspicious people. whenever you were around he couldn't help but want to apply that to you.

↪a constant nagging voice telling him to run or be careful was around when you were near. but maybe this one time he'd ignore it.

ranpo edogawa ★↷

↪the world's greatest detective was known for solving cases and everything to do with his work. a part of that would make him great at reading people and so he barely feared anyone. but when it came down to you and the nagging fear you implanted in the back of his head, he felt helpless.

↪your presence made him uncomfortable to be simple. it was a nagging put of dread that he couldn't get rid of because he couldn't read you. your silence to eerie for him to be comfortable anyway. he sometimes compared you to a ghost or some sort of spectre because of this.

↪he also hated the fact that you acted so unnatural and mechanical. everything about you from your expressions to your movements was so eerie. but weirdly enough he became accustomed to it.

↪he started veiwing it as a challenge. he became motivated to be able to finally understand you and rid himself of thsi dread you installed in him. and a good starting place was when you showed him genuine affection.

↪yes it did catch him off guard, but he quickly became accustomed to a more genuine and affectionate you behind closed doors. you became not so eerie and instead rather sweet. he still didn't fail to notice the fight or flight in his brain around you still.

fyodor dostoevsky ★↷

↪it took a vey long time for fyodor to come to trust you even a tiny bit. it would be the first time somebody's presence would cause him to be on edge, to think something was wrong and that made him distance himself from you.

↪but eventually that fear turned into a weird, sort of morbid curiosity. why did you cause him to fear you? was it the mechanical actions you would show. or was it how every part of you was eerie and too irregular.

↪fyodor only liked people he could read. they were predictable per say, easy to understand and therefore caused him no threat but from time to time some people could change that. your seemingly mechanical actions made you impossible to read and he wanted to know why.

↪he became even more curious when he gave him genuine care. your once eerie aura seemingly melted away as you showed him a sweeter side that he weirdly loved. but even when you showed affection that nagging fear still lurked.

saigiku jouno ★↷

↪ it's safe to say he barely knew you existed to begin with. he couldn't hear your heartbeat and such unless he really focused on the faint sound - leasing to him sometimes having the uncomfortable feeling someone was with him if you were around.

↪he hates it really, he can't hear your breathing or footsteps either so he truly has no idea where you could be at any given time. it really threw him off guard as it made him feel vulnerable around you.

↪he had heard from others how they'd complain about how mechanical you looked and some twisted part of him found some joy in knowing how some people feared you for this. sometimes he'd actually wish he could see it.

↪ however he did still indulge himself in your more sweeter side - the side he felt pride in knowing only he recieved. your genuine kindness did throw him a bit at first but he accustomed to it and enjoyed it.

↪he even ignored the constant nagging pit of dread in the back of his mind telling him to run, to fight, to get away from you just so he could indulge himself in your kindness.

↪the only time he could ever hear your heartbeat was when you two were hugging. and so this made the action treasured and all the more endearing for him.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König of the Icks (the rage post)

This is the post where I actually got mad at König. I can't stand people like this, but I also love them. If nothing else, life's always interesting when they're around, right?

Art from This Post

König rarely laughs. When he does laugh, it's usually quiet, subtle. If you didn't know he was laughing, you'd probably think he was crying because he just shakes his shoulders and makes soft chuffing noises

It's a bit eerie

However, when König loses control of his laughter, he sounds like a whole damn pigsty

He's snorting, squealing and honking as he tilts his head back with laughter. He laughs so hard he cries

This would be cute if it weren't almost always at the expense of somebody else.

Horangi had the misfortune of hearing it when König tipped all his belongings upside down and then taped and/or glued them to the ceiling. This included Horangi's bed and sheets.

Hutch nearly threw out a computer mouse until he found a piece of tape covering the bottom.

Roze swears she heard König laughing when she found her entire locker filled to the brim with tiny rubber ducks

The rubber ducks became a huge problem with soldiers trading them like contraband and hiding them in weird places around the base

This concluded with snipers using them for firing practise and laughing when they squealed when they were shot, making it to easy to find their hiding spots

Unfortunately for Stilleto, she heard König's laugh when she walked through a line of tape over a door and got it tangled in her hair. She figured out which recruits did it and had them running laps. When they were done, one of them admitted it was Cnl. Leichenberg who set them up and she was furious

See, König loves to set other people up to do his dirty work

He'll gladly set up soldiers to piss other people off so he can watch the fireworks fly

He'll purposefully hold off on doling out a punishment if he thinks it'll be funny to watch shit go south first

He's well known on base as a through and through sadist who relishes in schadenfreude

Hell, he's the one to teach everyone what that word meant

He's the literal dictionary definition of the word

Now, the problem is that König isn't just a kinky sadist (he is, but that's a different post)

König loves to torment anyone he loves. And of course, that includes you

König won't put things on the top shelf, he'll put them on top of the cabinet so you'll have to ask for his help because not even the stool will help you reach that high

He'll doodle over any picture you have of him to 'hide his identity'

He just likes messing with you

He torments his children with wicked pranks and gaslights them terribly

When his toddler offers him a bite of their animal cracker he eats the whole thing and laughs at them

He will absolutely label three objects 1, 2, and 4 so you'll go searching for #3

He will sit on you when he gets mad at you, or when you get mad at him because, well, this is the two of you (and he will do this to you and laugh):

His worst sin was childproofing the house without your knowledge. Ever had a fully childproofed house? If you're not the one installing it, it's an ugly thing to find

He will shift furniture just a little bit to the right or left to screw with you if you finish off his breakfast meals and don't replace them immediately

König takes delight in leaving you cryptid notes (you've learned to ignore the ominous threats because they always turn out to be something completely innocuous)

König is a nightmare of a man to live with. Is it fun? Sure! Is he a menace? Absolutely. He's got a penchant for mischief, and he's used to getting away with it because he's either got the reputation of a battle-hardened colonel that demands respect when he steps into a room, or the soft-spoken gentleman that would never raise his voice against a civilian. This just means he has the perfect fallback for whenever somebody accuses him of being a miscreant. In truth, he's most likely behind it, but the true extent of how many thing's he's behind is terrifying. This man fucks with people as a hobby.

Konig Dump

Konig Headcanons

[raiynnah]

Rescue

@wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 676

“Let’s go save your damsel in distress,” James says to Remus through a chuckle. He’s nervous—they all are—and trying to hide it through the many jokes that don’t land quite right. 

Rolling his eyes, he tells James, “Sirius is not a princess locked away in a tower.”

“Are you sure?” Peter squeaks out, looking a bit green in the face as he peeks over the car window at Grimmauld Place. “Because I’m not convinced his mum doesn’t breathe fire.” They hadn’t needed much convincing with teenage invincibility on their side but now, with the danger ominously staring right at them, the fear is beginning to set in.

“Ok, what’s the plan, Moony?” Remus groans, thinking hard. Of course James wouldn’t have planned anything before storming through their houses and recruiting them for this insanely reckless rescue mission. Remus would do anything for his boyfriend though, especially to help him escape the dragon’s clutches, so he analyses their way in. He can’t even be mad at James for it.

“I’ll go up there and ring the doorbell to distract Kreacher…” He cruelly puts Kreacher in the role of the troll on the bridge, something which he’ll have to mention to Sirius later, who’d find it hilarious. “Wormtail will sneak in and open that window on the left that’s shrouded by those bushes from the inside. Prongs, you’ll sneak in there and go up to Padfoot’s room..” The plan unfolds in front of him as the minutes pass, his mind buzzing with adrenaline.

When he walks up to the forbidding door of Sirius’ nightmarish house, he gulps audibly, fear brimming in his chest, and knocks three times on the door. It creaks open to reveal Kreacher’s wrinkled face and stone-cold glare. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a rat run past them and into the house.

“Uh, hi!” Remus says, a fake smile plastered to his face. “I was hoping you could help me out here. You see—”

“What does the halfbreed want?” Kreacher asks, visibly annoyed. Remus winces.

“Well, I was on my daily walk today, just enjoying the good weather, you know?” It’s cloudy and cold but he continues. “When I realised that I was enjoying it a bit too much! You know how it is.” He raises his voice as he hears stumbling in the background, but Kreacher doesn’t seem to notice. “And then I realised I was lost! My grandmother always said…” 

He babbles on fruitlessly, repetitions and pauses blurring in his monologue, fear drilling through him. Minutes creep by slowly and Remus can see Kreacher getting increasingly irritated. He fidgets uncomfortably at the way those beady eyes look right through his soul.

“...And that’s when I saw your house and realised, wow, am I lucky that—” Kreacher slams the door shut and he can’t help but sigh in relief. Still, he waits for a couple seconds before making his way back to the car. Remus hurries into the driver’s seat, from where he watches the house for what feels like hours. It’s not until James and Peter are running out, Sirius hot on their trail, shouting “Go, go, go!” that he starts the car.

His friends jump in, both James and Peter in the back with a nod of unspoken agreement. Sirius looks lovely, wrenching the car door from Remus’ other side open, hair flying loose and a pillow lines pressed into his cheek. He pulls Remus in for a passionate kiss, slamming the door shut with his other hand at the same time as his mother rushes out of the house in fury. 

“Hi, Moony,” he says, drowsiness still in his voice, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” Remus steps on the gas and they speed away, the others making faces at Walburga from the back window. He’d saved his princess from the tower and he can’t wait to see Sirius’ face (offended and amused) when he says that out loud. He knows James will keep the jokes going for days, might as well get a head start.

[moolovesyou]

morning decisions | angus tully x reader

a/n: fanfiction > assignments due in 2 days. pulling a cory and topanga. angus is a touchy little fiend.

request: "for an angus tully request could you do a situation where angus tully and the reader are getting their college acceptance letters together? (in my head I imagine they applied to the same schools) You can decide how it ends! (aka if they end up going to school together) thank you so much and your fics are great"

s: the future of your relationship is sealed in a pair of anticipated envelopes.

w: very suggestive, touchy angus (lol), cursing, sex mention.

wc: 1.8k

Your knuckles could've shattered with how hard you rapidly knocked on Angus's front door. You were excited- no, ecstatic. In your other hand, an ominous white envelope. It had begun to wrinkle in the grasp of your clammy hand. Its unknown contents had been a topic of conversation for months now.

The time had come. Every senior in high school was on the brink of shitting their pants at those college acceptance letters. You had to admit, you were also pretty nervous. The possibility of not spending the next four years with your beloved boyfriend was haunting your dreams. His smile was the sole resource running the happiness factory in your brain.

Just then, the door creaked open.

"Y/N!"

Angus's mother chirped. Her eyes were tired and she hugged her robe close to her body.

"Hi, Mrs. Tul- err. . . Mrs. Clotfelter!" You smiled sweetly. You hadn't realized how early it was. The moment you woke up you had rushed out of bed to check the mailbox.

"Please, sweetheart. Call me Judy." She opened the door wider, inviting you in. "You're here every weekend. I think we're way past formalities."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. It was true. You and Angus had spent every week together since you first met. There had to be a 3-inch minimum open door policy implemented after a few noisy incidents. You shut the door behind you.

"Is Angus awake?" You spoke in a hushed whisper. The house was incredibly silent, minus the growing whistle of a tea kettle on the stove.

Judy shrugged, "Why don't you go see for yourself? Ask him if he wants breakfast too." Her gaze shifted down to the letter in your hand. "Good luck."

With that, you shimmied down the carpeted hallway. You passed portraits that had grown familiar since your first visit. Your favorite was the framed photograph of a red-faced, baby Angus Tully in the bathtub. Angus would always cover your eyes with his hands to prevent you from looking and teasing.

A grin rose to your lips as you turned the corner to face Angus's room. His door was still shut. You placed a careful hand on the knob, and slowly pushed the door open.

Tangled in a mess of striped sheets, a snoozing Tully laid askew. He looked like a lanky baby bird in it's unkempt nest. One foot hung off the side of the bed. His cheek rested on the pillow with his curls poking in every direction. A few shards of sunlight highlighted his hollow cheekbones through the window curtains. His shirt had ridden up his torso, showing his friendly little happy trail.

This was your favorite sight in the world.

You waltzed over to the side of his bed, interlocking your fingers with his hair. You scratched his scalp, which earned a sleepy groan from him.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." You whispered into his ear. Angus stretched his legs out, before curling into a ball. He was a light sleeper, but an incredibly cranky person. You sighed, walking over to his window and pulling the curtains open.

A pouty whine escaped his throat as he used the pillow to cover his face.

"Hellooooooo, the love of your life is here." You nudged him.

"Who?" He murmured, which warranted a soft smack to the shoulder from you.

"Oh, really? Guess I'll just find another guy to take care me during my lonesome nights." You pursed your lips, patting his leg before turning on your heel. Before you could leave, two slim arms slithered around your waist and yanked you into the bed.

"Oh, right. . .That love of my life. The one with the pretty lips that like to tease." Angus pulled you close to his chest. Your head fit underneath his jaw, allowing you to get a peek into his shirt. Your hands trailed underneath his shirt and up his back. He placed a soft kiss onto your scalp, petting your hair slightly. "Good morning to you too."

"There's no time to waste." You shot up from his embrace, pushing his figure close to the edge of the bed.

"What are you talking about?" He rubbed his eyes, stretching every muscle in his body. He adjusted his pajama pants that had also shifted down.

"Don't tell me you forgot." You glared at him. His eyes widened for a second, before drooping nonchalantly while a smirk grew onto his face.

Angus leaned over to his bedside, opening his squeaky drawer. He pulled out two envelopes and smacked them lightly against your thigh.

"How could I forget?" He sat up into a crisscross position. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to tame his bedhead.

"Are you ready?" You blurted, your hand already in place to rip the seal. You couldn't contain it anymore. You were practically vibrating.

"Yeah. . ." Angus sighed. His eyes locked with yours, gaze softening and pupils dilating at your heartwarming features. "Can I say something first, though?"

You let your hands fall to your lap, nodding slowly. He grabbed your wrists and placed your palms against his. He could sense you were worried.

"There's no need to be scared, okay?" Angus reassured, rubbing his thumb on your skin. "I just want to talk about us."

He chewed on his bottom lip.

"We both want Boston University. It's best for both of us. I just know we'd thrive there, parading every bookstore in the damn city. We'd see each other everyday. Trust me, I need that." He chuckled, eyes scanning your lips.

He held up one of the two letters. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

"But, Harvard is what's expected of me. . . It's one of the last things my dad and I talked about. I don't want to disappoint anyone." He had a clouded over look in this eyes. His jaw clenched and unclenched.

"You won't. I don't care where you end up, you'll never disappoint me." You spoke and raised your hand to caress his cheek. His prickly stubble rubbed against your palm. His eyelids fluttered shut as he melted into your touch. "I care about us, but more than anything I care about you. I want you to prosper even if it means I have to wait for you."

Angus smiled. His cheeks bunched up to his eyes, squinting his gaze slightly. When he smiled, he always looked like a squirrel with stuffed cheeks. It was adorable.

"Are you ready now, smartass?" You teased. He scowled cheekily.

"Fuck yeah!" He hollered, pumping his fists into the air. "Which one should I open first?"

"Harvard, duh!?" You screeched at him.

He laughed that deep laugh he always does. With a shivering exhale, he carefully ripped open the envelope. You bit your lip to contain your excitement. You knew in your heart that Angus was going to get in. He's the smartest person you've ever known. You'd always joke that if an accident ever happened, you would donate his brain to science.

Angus unfolded the piece of paper, eyes scanning quickly. He blinked slowly, letting out a sharp scoff. He lifted his head to look at you. You crossed your fingers.

"I got in."

"You got in!?"

"I GOT IN!"

Cheering erupted from the two of you. You tackled Angus in a hug, pulling him tight and close to your chest.

"ANGUS TULLY IS GOING TO HARVARD!" You whooped.

"I haven't decided yet." He warned, sinking his teeth softly into your shoulder for a cheeky warning. You giggled at the dull pain. He smushed his lips onto the bite marks he left, placing a wet kiss.

"Well, let's hurry up so you can make up your mind!" You rubbed the envelope between your palms.

Angus held his second, unopened envelope to his nose. He took a few unsuspecting sniffs. Then, he reached for your envelope, sniffing it as well.

"I smell. . . lots of exam month stress sex together." He winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes dramatically. He handed the letter back to you.

You both gave each other reassuring glances and proceeded to open your envelopes. You skimmed the paper nervously, teeth threatening to collapse under the pressure of your clenched jaw. Blah, blah, blah. Boring words. And then, there it was. To your delight, those wonderfully inviting words.

'We are pleased to inform you. . .'

Your nerves had dissipated and instead materialized into what could only be described as sparklers igniting where your lungs should be. You almost forgot to breathe.

". . .Congratulations on your admission- I GOT IN!" You jumped to your feet, bouncing on Angus's mattress. The springs creaked loudly.

Angus threw his letter into the air, grabbing your legs and pulling them close to his torso.

"MR. AND MRS. BOSTON UNIVERSITY!" He lifted your shirt, planting tons of kisses onto your belly. He squeezed his fingers against your thighs. You reached down and scratched his scalp again, lowering your hands to cup his face.

He stared at you through his lashes, chin digging into your abdomen. You couldn't wipe the smile off your face. It could only grow wider the more you looked at him. This could be forever.

His hands traveled up your legs, landing around your waist. One hand fitted itself against the small of your back, while the other held your waist with a featherlight touch. Every wandering touch felt like he was attempting to map out every inch for a vivid memory. His brown eyes had a puppy love gaze swirling around the dark pupils.

"I think I made my choice." He whispered against your tummy.

You dropped to your knees, meeting him at the same height.

"Are you sure? You should spend more time thinking on it. Talk with your parents-"

"I want to go to Boston University with you, Y/N." Angus grinned.

"Wha-. . . what about Harvard?" You stammered in shock.

"What about it? Harvard is just gonna be another Barton. It's gonna be the same privileged human shit-rags trying to prove they're smarter than each other, rather than actually give a shit about the knowledge they're graciously provided. I don't want to be one of those. I want to care to learn. I'm not going to have that there."

"But. . . the opportunities there, Angus."

"If I'm truly the intelligent person everyone says I am, I will thrive wherever I go. People believe in me enough that I feel I can make the right choice. This is it, trust me."

The bed squeaked slightly as Angus shifted closer.

"Trust me. I'm a smartass, I know what I'm doing." He scrunched your cheeks together with his hands.

You took a deep breath.

"Well. . . Then. . . I guess, we're going to Boston." You chirped, jumping forward and giving Angus a peck on his nose. He flashed a toothy grin. His lips were pink, cheeks matching with the same tint.

His sneaky hands wandered up and under the front of your shirt. You swatted his hands away, eliciting a frustrated growl from Angus. His eyes held a pleading look.

"Save it for Boston, Tully. We have a day to start."

He pursed his lips and narrowed his gaze at you. There seemed to be another undercover morning trait he had.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go Mrs. Boston. I wanna finish breakfast and break that 3-inch door rule. "

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bucky x reader

In a relationship, bucky doesn't want reader going on mission because it's a hydra Misson, they argue and don't talk to each other, bucky hears reader get hurt and he hears her say "im sorry buck, i love you" and then her comms go out and he can't do anything to help because he's pinned down and by the time he gets to her she's bleeding out and passed out and bucky is breaking down apologising and saying he didn't mean anything of what he said etc and I dunno how you would wanna end it.

Of all base passions, fear is most accursed

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: Violence. Injury. Angst.

The tension in the living room was palpable.

Bucky paced back and forth, his jaw clenched, his hands running through his hair in frustration. Y/N stood a few feet away, arms crossed, her own frustration mirrored in her tense posture. The disagreement between them had escalated rapidly, spiraling into an argument that neither of them had intended.

“It’s just a mission, Bucky!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice firm. “I’ve done missions like this a hundred times before.”

“Not like this,” he countered, his voice sharp but tinged with worry. “It’s Hydra, Y/N. You don’t understand what they’re capable of.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t patronize me. I know exactly what they’re capable of. That’s why I need to go.”

“No,” he snapped, stepping closer. “You don’t need to go. Let someone else handle it.”

“And let them walk into something I’m prepared for?” she shot back. “You’re not being rational. This isn’t about me—it’s about the mission.”

“It’s always about the mission with you,” he retorted, his tone cutting deeper than he intended. “When are you going to stop risking everything like it’s just a game?”

Y/N flinched at his words, the sting of them landing hard. Her voice dropped, quieter now but no less resolute. “You think I’m reckless? That I don’t care about what I’m risking?”

“That’s not what I said,” Bucky muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, but the damage was already done.

“I can’t do this with you right now,” she said, grabbing her jacket and storming toward the door.

“Y/N,” he called after her, but she didn’t turn around.

The ride to the Quinjet was a blur. Y/N focused on the mission briefing, tuning out the knot in her chest that Bucky’s words had tied. She couldn’t afford distractions. Hydra facilities weren’t forgiving of mistakes.

The team deployed under the cover of night, slipping into the compound with precision. Y/N’s heart pounded as she moved through the dimly lit corridors, her comm buzzing with updates from the team. Her training kicked in, her body operating on muscle memory even as her thoughts kept circling back to Bucky.

She didn’t want to fight with him. She hated leaving things unresolved, hated the way his worried eyes had looked at her before she walked out the door.

“Barnes, stay sharp!” Steve’s voice over the comm snapped Bucky out of his spiraling thoughts. He was pinned down behind a concrete barrier, gunfire ricocheting off the walls around him.

He had stayed behind with the secondary team, watching the operation unfold from a distance. It had been his idea, a way to keep himself grounded while Y/N was out there. But now, every shot fired, every static crackle over the comms set his nerves on edge.

“Y/N, status?” he found himself asking, breaking protocol.

“I’m fine, Buck,” her voice came through, steady but faint. “Focus on your position.”

That was Y/N—always level-headed, even in the thick of it. But something in her tone didn’t sit right with him.

The hallway leading to the main server room was a cold, metallic stretch of shadows and faintly glowing panels. Y/N moved with practiced precision, her steps light and measured despite the tension crackling in the air. Beside her, Natasha was a blur of calculated efficiency, her movements as sharp as her focus.

“We’re nearing the server room,” Natasha’s voice was low and steady, the faint hum of Hydra’s security systems buzzing ominously around them.

Y/N nodded, her grip tightening on her weapon. The faint tapping of their boots on the steel floor seemed deafening, amplified in the vacuum of silence that surrounded them. For a moment, everything was still—too still. The absence of resistance in what should have been a high-security facility put her on edge.

“Doesn’t feel right,” Y/N muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha’s lips tightened into a grim line, her green eyes flicking toward the corridor ahead. “Stay sharp.”

The moment they rounded the corner, the silence shattered. Red emergency lights bathed the hallway in an eerie glow, and the screech of alarms pierced the air. Y/N’s heart kicked into overdrive as metal panels slid open along the walls, Hydra soldiers pouring out with weapons raised.

“Ambush!” Natasha barked, already moving.

Y/N ducked behind a nearby crate, her back pressed against the cool steel as bullets ricocheted off the walls. She could feel the heat of the skirmish, the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“They’re trying to box us in,” Natasha yelled over the gunfire. “We need to clear them fast!”

“I’m on it!” Y/N shouted back, swinging out from her cover to fire. Her shots were precise, each one finding its mark, but the soldiers kept coming, Hydra’s numbers seemingly endless. Her earpiece buzzed with the frantic chatter of the rest of the team holding the perimeter.

“Server room’s just ahead,” Natasha said, reloading swiftly. “Go, Y/N. I’ll cover you.”

Y/N hesitated for a fraction of a second. “You sure?”

“Go!” Natasha snapped, already moving to draw the fire away from Y/N’s path.

Y/N sprinted forward, her body low and agile as she darted between columns of cover. The hallway narrowed, the looming doorway to the server room coming into view. She could feel the heat of Hydra’s reinforcements closing in behind her, the air thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and sweat.

“Team, I’m almost at the server room,” she called through her comm, her breath coming in short bursts. “Nat, status?”

“Still breathing,” Natasha quipped, her voice tight but composed. “Just don’t make me regret this.”

Y/N reached the door, her fingers flying over the control panel. The lock disengaged with a mechanical hiss, the heavy door sliding open to reveal the server room bathed in a sterile white light. Towering racks of servers blinked at her, their hum a stark contrast to the chaos outside.

“I’m in,” she reported, slipping inside and sealing the door behind her. Her reprieve was short-lived. The alarms grew louder, and the vibration of approaching footsteps resonated through the floor. Hydra wasn’t letting this go without a fight.

She moved quickly, her fingers navigating the terminal with practiced efficiency. Lines of Hydra’s encrypted data scrolled across the screen as she worked to extract the files.

“Y/N, we’ve got a problem,” Natasha’s voice came through, strained. “They’re sending reinforcements your way. I’m pinned down.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped. Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard before resuming their furious pace. “I just need a few more seconds.”

“We don’t have seconds,” Natasha snapped, her voice tight with effort.

“Almost there,” Y/N muttered to herself, ignoring the frantic pounding of her heart. The data transfer bar crawled across the screen, agonizingly slow.

The door behind her rattled, the sound of Hydra soldiers attempting to breach it echoing through the room. Y/N’s pulse spiked, her eyes darting to the terminal as the transfer hit 90%.

“Come on, come on,” she whispered.

The door buckled under the weight of an explosive charge. Y/N barely had time to dive for cover before it blasted open, shards of metal scattering like shrapnel. She hit the ground hard, her comm crackling in her ear.

“Y/N, fall back!” Natasha’s voice was sharp, commanding.

“Not yet,” Y/N replied, scrambling to her feet. Her hand instinctively went to her weapon, firing at the Hydra agents flooding into the room. Each shot was deliberate, buying her precious seconds as the transfer ticked toward completion.

“I’ve got this,” she said into the comm, her voice resolute. But even as she spoke, she knew the odds were stacked against her. She was cut off, alone, and Hydra was closing in fast.

The explosion was deafening.

Bucky’s world narrowed to the static in his comm, drowning out the chaos around him.

“Y/N?!” he shouted, his heart racing. “Y/N, report!”

“I’m sorry, Buck,” her voice came through, faint and trembling. “I love you.”

And then, silence.

“No, no, no,” Bucky muttered, panic setting in. He surged to his feet, ignoring Steve’s shout to stay down. He fought his way through the enemy lines, desperation lending him strength.

By the time he reached her, she was crumpled on the ground, blood pooling beneath her. Her comm lay shattered nearby, her hand limp at her side.

“Doll,” Bucky choked out, dropping to his knees beside her. He pressed his hands to the wound in her abdomen, trying to stem the bleeding. “I’m here. Stay with me, please.”

She didn’t respond, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean what I said. You’re not reckless—you’re brave, and I love you for it. Just—don’t leave me.”

Hours later, Y/N woke to the steady beep of monitors. The sterile smell of the medbay filled her senses, and she turned her head slowly, finding Bucky slumped in a chair beside her, his head resting in his hands.

“Hey,” she croaked, her voice weak.

His head shot up, relief flooding his features. “Y/N,” he breathed, moving to sit beside her. “You’re awake.”

“You look terrible,” she teased softly, managing a faint smile.

Bucky let out a shaky laugh, his hand brushing her cheek. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes glistening. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted gently. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I should have trusted you. I let my fear get in the way.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their emotions settling between them. Finally, Bucky leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Doll. Always.”

“I love you too,” she murmured, her hand finding his.

It took weeks for Y/N to recover fully, but Bucky never left her side. The mission was a success, but the real victory was in the promises they made to each other—not unspoken, but loud and clear, built on trust and love.

——————————————————————————————————

Hey, I actually really enjoyed writing this, something with a bit more action! I hope you liked it.. 🫶

Requests Open!

[yuriisclumsy]

I'm so excited that more people started taking cale request!!!✧\(>o<)ﾉ✧

Anyway hiii! Can I have an enemy to lovers with cale henituse and fem.reader idk something cliche like a dance scene or one gets protective of the other or maybe a cute "oh shit I'm actually in love moment"

Sorry I'm bursting with ideas rn.~

Love's Dance

Part 1 (You are here) | Part 2 | Part 3

𝚆𝚘����𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2,729

Authors note: You ask, and I shall deliver. PS. why did you give me such a good idea? like, I'm at 5k word for the overall thing, and I am not even done yet... (send help)

The streets of Roan Kingdom's Capital were bustling like usual. The vendors selling their goods, children running around carelessly, mothers screaming at them to not get dirty, and the usual underground activity Arm did. 

I strolled through these streets, thinking of nothing and relaxing ‘til I get another mission. 

“That reminds me…Arm has been quiet as of late. Sigh…they are up to no good…” I spoke to no one in particular, walking back to the Quiet Isle lodge. 

Quiet Isle is an inn in an area a little off the center of the Capital. I stayed there for the past three weeks after finishing my last mission. The price to stay is cheap, while still being comfortable. It has comfortable rooms, a clear view, free breakfast, and most importantly, it wasn’t noisy at all! Bonus points for the innkeepers, as they have been nothing but sweethearts.  

All-in-all, a good Inn if you’re looking to get your coins worth. 

I went through the inn’s doors, a sweet aroma of lavender hitting my nostrils as I neared the front desk.  

The Innkeepers were an old couple, and the misses genuinely enjoyed the smell of lavender. That is why, as you walk through the inn, you’ll be met with an influx of light purples from the flowers. 

Reaching the desk, I was greeted by a senior woman whose smile could cure all kinds of child injuries. 

“Oh! Why if it is the youth I’m all too familiar with!” The old granny said, delighted to see me. 

 “Greetings, Granny Fes,” I vowed curtly with a small smile. “Have there been any new guests at the inn?” I asked as she extended her hand to give me a piece of candy. 

Receiving the small candy, I offered a small ‘thank you.’ She said a quick ‘You’re welcome!’ before responding to my question. “Yes, yes! I welcomed a few new guests shortly after you left this morning for a stroll!” she excitedly told me. 

“Two of the five I welcomed are a couple expecting a child! Isn't that exciting? Ouu, to be young again…” 

“Oh, please. I say you are still quite young!” I say to get her head out of that cloud. 

“Fufufu, you are too kind [Name].” Granny Fes pinched my cheek as she got a bit flustered. “I believe one day you’ll meet a handsome young man that is suited just for you.” She added. 

I blushed a little, “Oh no, I don’t think that will happen…” I pause for a second. “Do you really think I’ll get lucky enough to have that...?” I asked, not believing I would get someone special to spend my days with. 

“Don’t give me that!” Granny Fes yelled, as if scolding one of her own. “You are beautiful! Which man wouldn't dream of having a wife such as yourself!?” 

All I could do was smile in response. This is how I want things to always go. Living in a peaceful area, sharing memories with people I meet along the way, even starting a family. Arm is nowhere near that picture. And it will never be. 

But alas. Good things always end. 

“Ah! That reminds me. [Name],” she called my name and handed me an envelope, “You received mail from a young lad. He said it was urgent.”  

Looking at the envelope as Granny Fes left to continue her job, I had an ominous feeling, yet I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.  

I turned it around only to see Arm’s seal stamped on it. Arm only sends letters if it is an important mission, and based on the color of the seal, it is of utmost importance.  

I am already not liking this I thought, refusing to open the letter. Maybe if I were to pretend its existence was nothing but a useless paper, it would disappear. But alas, I needed to open the envelope. With worry present in my face I opened it with the seal. Inside was a letter addressing Agent White Gold.  

That code name. It is the thing I despised most in this world. 

To Agent White Gold, 

Play time is up, White Gold. You have been assigned a mission in the Henituse Territory. We have discovered the traces of the leader of the organization known as ‘True Arm.’ Your mission is to go there and find out who the leader of the organization is, dead or alive. It is your choice which one you pick.  

A carriage will come to pick you up at sunrise, so don’t miss it.  

Once you arrive at your destination one of our men will greet you and guide you to your resting location and hand you an envelope. Inside, you will find descriptions of the one we are looking for, alongside a list of individuals that we found to match the description of our target. 

Remember, Agent, we are counting on your success. 

Don’t disappoint us, 

Arm 

Dammit… The moment I receive some peace after working for them like a slave…! I angrily store the letter to shreds, as if it were them instead of the letter. All I wanted was to disappear from the eyes of those bastards. They took me from my home, changed me to fit in an identity they made…they just can’t leave me alone, can they? 

 

I wanted to say no. To be able to run away to a far corner of the world so they would never be able to find me. But it is impossible. No one leaves. Rather, they die. Dying was the only way out. 

Yet, I want to live. 

I looked at Granny Fes as she talked with a few guests that were checking out. At that moment I knew that if I tried to escape, they would get everyone I was surrounded by. She doesn't deserve that. Neither does her husband, or her children and grandchildren. 

It is best I comply. 

“Sigh…Once you're in, there is no escaping their grasp…”  

The sky was tainted in hues of blues, purples, and oranges. The sun was rising from the nap it took, and fully ready to greet us. 

A carriage arrived early at the Quiet Isle Inn. Inside stood Granny Fes and Gramps Liy right next to me. Their eyes expressed sadness when looking at me. 

“Why so sad?” I asked the couple. 

“Oh, it’s just…it’s just that we’re both sad you’re leaving so soon.” Granny Fes confessed. Her husband, a bit more stubborn, only scuffed. Granny Fes elbowed him hard with a smile still shooting at me, gaining a small scowl from Gramps Liy. 

“AGHEM,” he raised one hand to fake a cough, “I guess you will be missed.” 

I laugh at his antics. Deep down he cares, he just has an unconventional way of expressing his feelings. 

“I’ll miss the two of you.” I looked at them with a small hinge of sadness but kept a smile to reassure them. I looked outside to see the coachman wave his hand signaling that he was ready for departure. “It seems I must go,” I turned to them, “see you later?” 

“Yes, yes. Goodbye little lady.” Gramps Liy ‘shud’ me to the carriage as he and his wife stared at me opening the door of the carriage. 

“Farewell, sweetheart. Make sure to take good care of yourself. And remember to look out for good lads while you’re traveling!” Granny Fes nagged me like I was about to never come back. Although, she was right about that. I don’t think I will be able to come back if I want to protect them. 

I laughed and said a small ‘I will!’ as I climbed into the carriage. Closing the door the carriage started moving. I waved to the couple one last time before I could not see them anymore. 

Sighting, I took out the map I packed. Looking at my destination, it was a few days from the capital. “This is going to be a loong trip…” I commented, making myself comfortable for the journey ahead. 

I hope I get this mission done quickly, so I can get another vacation from Arm. I looked up at the ceiling. I mean…how hard could it be to find this ‘leader’ anyways? 

… 

An old butler walks dutifully around the state halls. In hand, he holds a tray with a fancy tea set with a steel dome keeping the food inside warm; its aroma could be smelled by the passing housekeepers with wet laundry. 

The butler knocked at a door, he did not have to wait long, as he got an immediate response from the person inside. Opening the door he says his greetings. 

“Good morning, young master. I brought breakfast along with your favorite drink.” He says as he places down the tray on the table close to the window. 

“Ah, thank you, Ron.” A male voice thanked the butler. 

“It is my pleasure, young master Cale.” The butler, Ron, bowed. 

The man, who is now identified as Cale, sat down on the table to enjoy his breakfast. 

“Young master, if I may…” Ron waited for permission to continue speaking. 

“*Sight* Just spit it out.” Cale said in an uninterested voice. This is another one of his tangents. Drinking the lemonade that Ron made as he thinks of Ron’s earlier endeavors. 

Ron smiled, “I have detected Arm activity within the city.” 

“PFF–” spilling all the lemonade on the cup, he looked at Ron with widened eyes.

What is Arm doing here?! They have more pressing issues to deal with! Like, figuring out who Real Arm is! Cale’s thought went haywire.

 

Ron took his handkerchief out and gave it to Cale to use. 

“What do you mean there is Arm activity in the city? Is it more bombs?” He asked while using the cloth given to him to clean the mess he made. 

He shook his head, “no, at least not yet. I have seen them snoop around the city for information. It would seem we left them a small lead.” 

“Not good…” 

“If you’d prefer, young master, I could go rabbit hunting.” 

Looking at Ron with a drop of sweat evident in his forehead, he reluctantly answered. “...do whatever you want.”  

“Hehe. Then I will take my leave.” He bowed before leaving the room without making a sound. 

Scary old man. He looked outside pouring more lemonade in his cup. It’s not a good sign if Arm is here. I need to prepare in case they strike. 

… 

“Hey, wake up! We’re almost there!” 

“WHAT? HUH–huh?” I got up from my seat at lightning speed, looking around in a daze. As I scoot closer to the window, I see the giant walls looming overhead. On top of one of the towers built in the wall was a flag. It was the Henituse’s family crest imprinted on it.  

I’m already in the Henituse territory! 

Getting closer at the entrance door of the city, the carriage stopped, as they had to do a check before letting anyone in. 

“Execute me, m’lady. May I have your identification paper?” A soldier asked me. 

Security check? When I traveled to other places, they didn’t ask for my identification but the coachman’s. 

I handed him the paper without complaint, receiving it right after he checked that everything was good. The other soldiers gave him a thumbs up after checking the carriage and the coachman. Without further interruption they let us through, wishing us a happy stay. 

“That was…something.” 

The coach man dropped me off at a tavern near the city square. Going upstairs to the second floor of the establishment, I sat down at a table near the edge of the balcony. Waiting for the man that was supposed to give me the information mentioned in the letter I looked out into the streets, I could see the liveliness of the people.  

They were too lively in my opinion. 

Hearing footsteps approaching my table I diverted my attention to them. I was greeted with a man wearing a hat with fancy clothing. 

“Hello, m’lady,” the man greeted by taking his hat off and vowing curtly. 

Didn’t know Arm also had rich allies. I thought, seeing the man's mannerisms. 

“Good evening,” I vowed slightly, “are you the one mentioned in the letter?” 

“Eager now, are we?” He sat down in front of me with a smug smile. He placed his hat down before taking out an envelope. He slid it across the table. As I grabbed it, I took out its content.  

It was a list of suspects. They all had red hair and were male. And that was it. No underground activities, no records, nothing. 

“That’s…it?”  

This is the only information they managed to find…seriously? I thought. Was someone able to sneak past Arm’s noses? How is that even possible? 

“Unfortunately, it is.” 

“Ha...!” I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. I looked up at the man after reviewing the list of suspects.  

“This is the only description we managed to find,” the smile on his face dropped into a frown, “only at the low cost of our scouts: a single spy was able to escape long enough to hide a piece of paper in a tree trunk…” he said. 

“....” I looked down at the list.  

To be able to kill all of our scouts…this is no meek foe. Just thinking of how strong they are sends shivers down my spine…  

“I have arranged a small room at an Inn close by here. I have left some equipment at your disposal. The location is on one of the papers in the envelope.” The man stood up and put his hat on, adjusting his suit a little before looking at me.  

“If you need anything else, I left a card at your place with instructions as to how you can contact me. Remember I’m at your service m’lady, Tata! ~” 

“I will keep that in mind.” 

Watching as he disappeared behind the doors of the second floor, I decided to order something to eat before heading to my fixed place. 

…

 

“…a festival?” Cale looked at the flier given to him. 

“That’s right,” Count Deruth, Cale’s father, said nonchalantly, “the festival will brighten the people's moods, as well as show that we are financially good.” 

Politics…. 

! 

“Wait, here it says the ‘Henituse’s’ are attending…I don’t have to attend…right?” 

Deruth raised an eyebrow in question. “You don’t have to go.” 

“...” 

I must go. *Sight* My well-deserved rest has been postponed once again… can’t I catch a break for once? 

“On that note, I have reserved a spot on the city square where we will be presiding during the time,” he said as Cale gave him back the paper.  

“You don’t have to talk–or better said–you don’t have to even move. Just sitting there is enough.” 

Cale smiled at this I don’t have to move? Seems perfect to me! 

“I’ll be attending in that case.” 

“The festival will start in a few days. Be ready.” 

Cale exited his father’s study, walking back to his room. 

I need to tell Ron about this. It’ll be no surprise if Arm takes advantage of the festival. There stands a man with black hair waiting outside Cale’s room for him to come. 

“!” 

“Young master Cale!” The man runs towards him with puppy-like energy. 

“Choi Han, is there something you need?” Cale asked. 

“I heard from Ron that there have been suspicious activities happening in the city. So, I came to ask for permission to investigate.” Hans explained. 

Cale hummed. Strange. Usually, you would do these types of things without letting me know. Perhaps he thinks this is a bit dangerous and if he doesn't return, we know where to look? 

“You can do as you please, no need to ask for my permission.” 

“I see…thank you young master,” Han vowed, “I will report back immediately once I find anything!” As he said that, he began to leave. 

“Oh, and, Choi Han?” Cale spoke before he could fully leave. 

“Yes, Cale?” 

“If you find anything, make sure to report first. Don’t go around making havoc, got it?” Cale instructed. 

“...yes” he responded with a bit of thinking, knowing it was the best decision. 

Let’s see what they have in store for us. Cale entered his room, he’ll laze around until the festival actually begins. What a bother… 

… 

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Master-List

[delinquentfiction]

Dancing Lessons With the Radio Demon

Content: Alastor x GN!Reader, no use of y/n, size difference mentions, reader is sleepy, fluff

Word count: 2,076

No trigger warnings

The bed creaks slightly as you turn and wiggle on it, trying to get into a comfortable spot. Unfortunately, despite the pure exhaustion from your day of running errands for the hotel and essentially being the gofer, your brain refuses to allow you to slip into sweet unconsciousness. It has now gotten to that lovely part of restlessness where no matter how you lay, no matter how long you stare at your phone to distract yourself, you cannot get comfortable. At this point there is nothing you can think of but to get up and find something to do and hope that something is enough to help your brain calm down. You don’t care if you fall asleep walking down the stairs as long as you get a wink.

You wrap your blanket around yourself before leaving the bed, not willing to part with it. Once up and walking you felt like one of those edited cat memes with those dumb relatable captions. One of the good things from life that still made it down into Hell. Cats look different down here and look slightly terrifying with their shark-like 4-way opening mouths, but they’re cats nonetheless.

Once in the hall, you somehow feel like you’re stomping and floating at the same time. Not awake enough to be fully aware, but aware enough of how your walking is the only noise being made. At least in the part of the hotel you reside in. As you meander around and approach the grand staircase, you hear the faint sounds of piano and sax playing a slow jazzy tune. Right then you were reminded that there would be only one other person awake at this hour. A person a little too chipper for the state you were in, but at least it would be company.

You recalled how when you were alive people would say that sometimes it would be hard to sleep because your brain feels like it’s in danger and having someone there or having a stuffed animal can help. Things that trick your brain into thinking you’re protected. Would you feel safe around this ever smiling demon? Would the same logic even carry over now that you’re a demon? Well, you’re going to find out.

As you wander up the hotel floors the song becomes louder and the air seems to feel thicker. It’s not as if it’s never been ominous to visit Alastor’s room before, after all you never know what you’ll open his door to see him doing. There’s always that little fear at the back of your head telling you that you know better than to walk right into a lion’s den like this. The feeling that just walking into his room is asking for a contract you’ll regret later but can’t refuse in the moment.

Once you reach his door, everything comes to a halt. Your walking, his music, and even time, seemingly. Did he know you were standing here? Just outside his door? Did you make a noise you didn’t hear but he did? That wouldn’t be unusual for you. Maybe he was simply getting ready to play a different record. ‘Perhaps now is the time to interrupt, then.’

You softly knock on his door and almost immediately the door swings open which causes you to jump back a little in surprise. He looms over you, crimson eyes peering down over a practically glowing sharp grin. You stare up at him, a shy smile slowly creeping onto your face. “Why, good evening! To what do I owe the pleasure of such a late visit?” Alastor greets.

You stutter a bit as you answer. “Ah, good evening! I just couldn’t sleep and I thought that, uh, I should come say hi!”

“Well, this is a very nice visit! I don't get many late-night callers these days; make yourself at home!” He opens his door wider and gestures with a grand swish of his arm for you to come inside.

And you do. As you walk in you glance around his room, wondering what he was up to while listening to his music. Some of his furniture was moved closer to the walls and a fire blazed in his fireplace, growing ever bigger as a breeze came in from the forest half of his room. ‘Huh, didn’t know that there was weather in here. Noted and hoping it never rains.’ With the warmth of the fireplace it feels unnecessary to have a blanket on so you placed it on one of the couches that is pushed to the side.

“I didn’t have much to do tonight so I resorted to getting into the swing of dancing to pass the time.” The red head explains as he made his way to an awaiting record player that looked to have seen better days, but from what you heard on your way here, it did it’s job much better than appearance would lead you to believe. “Would you care to join me, my dear?”

“Join you? Oh, I don’t really know how to-”

“I’m sure you’ll pick it right up! It does get so boring singing and dancing by oneself, and you seem like you need something to pass the time, yourself.” He looks over his shoulder at you, record in hand. His usual big grin had become more of a smirk, as if he knew about your tired wondering.

You nod at him, figuring he just wasn’t going to take a ‘no’ or an ‘I’d rather watch you dance and hang out on your couch’. You step over to the record player and pick up the sleeve the demon got the record out of. Judging by the title, it seemed to be a collection of old hits from the 30’s. None of which you were familiar with. There is a respect that comes with older music since more modern music couldn’t exist without it, however older music just tends to be a bit too slow for your liking. Perhaps you’ve been listening to the wrong songs though, since Alastor doesn’t entirely seem to be the type to enjoy slow music either. At least not on boring nights with guests like tonight.

As you set the sleeve back down where you found it, music started playing from the record player. A bit distorted at first but sounding just as clear and blaring as it was earlier once it had a second to do its thing. A much more energetic tune than earlier begins to play, confirming your earlier suspicions. Alastor leads you to the center of the room where it’s the clearest and stands next to you, offering his hand for you to hold. It was when you comply and take his hand in yours you begin to remember the sheer difference in size between you two. His clawed hand easily swallowed yours and at this closer proximity than normal it felt like he was a tower to you being a cottage.

“Now, all we’re gonna start with is moving side to side like this.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, keeping his hips loose and going with the motion. You stare for a moment before awkwardly (at least it felt awkward) mimicking the action. “Use the same foot I’m using on my count. 1, 2, 3, 4.” He kept count until you got it and were able to keep up. Simple enough. “Now we’re going to do the same, but vertical. Slightly more tricky, try not to tie your legs together, dear. Outside foot goes back.” It was trickier, and you did lose balance in the beginning, but luckily Alastor didn’t entirely seem to mind it. You guess it would be less bothersome to someone who could lift you with their pinky. You think you got it down and it seems that Alastor thought so too when he directs, “Now we’ll combine them. Bring your outside foot back up, there you go, and rock on your outside foot, inside foot, outside foot rocks back, then rock back to the front foot.”

As soon as you got that down Alastor was off, adding an extra tapping step, throwing in a few kicks for himself, even switching the position so you were holding hands in front of each other. Once in front of the other you could swear that Alastor is staring a bit too intensely. It’s like he is attempting to peer further into your being and get a better read on your soul. What is more jarring is you could swear his eyes flicker to your lips and stay there, but your tired brain isn’t able to confirm for sure that’s what you saw. Honestly, you had no idea what was going on. Trying to focus hard on his steps and mimic and predict them was difficult, especially in your half awake brain. Considering he kept going you figured you were somehow keeping up well enough; you haven’t been looking at his face much, trying to watch his feet.

Your focus retreats entirely once you hear him say something, but as you look up at him you are suddenly stumbling right into a twirl and then into the deer demons’ chest; one clawed hand now on your waist and the other moving your hand to his padded shoulder. Your nose suddenly filled with a pine and metallic smell and your face so close to the crimson fabric of his clothes, it took a second before you realized your feet had been dragged for a second before the both of you weren’t moving.

“I did try to tell you I was going to pull you in, my dear.” His radio filtered voice brought you fully back. You find your footing again and look hesitantly up at his ever grinning face. Alastor is leaning over you, face coming closer until his sharp teeth become a little too close. Just inches from your own lips.

“Sorry.” One of your feet tries to go back so you would be able to create a bit of distance so you could see him properly, but his hand on your waist keeps you solid against him. You instead opt to move your hand from his shoulder to his lapel to keep your stability. ‘Did he just freeze for a second?’

The demons’ grin widens impossibly more, eyes flashing with an unknown emotion. “No need to apologize, my sleepy friend. I’ve found your company to be quite pleasant on this eventful night. Perhaps it’s time to bring this evening to an end.” He suggests. The hand that is still holding yours let’s go and lands on top of yours on his lapel. “ You caught onto the steps very quickly. You do enjoy keeping me on my toes.”

“Thank you.” You reply a bit flatly, your vision starting to unfocus as you stare at your joined hands. You both were just dancing so it makes sense, but somehow the warmth was still causing cogs in your mind to stutter. As if you can’t believe this as anything but a dream. “I think it’s time I head back to my room. I think I’m at the point where I could go into a coma for the next few days.”

He chuckled a bit to himself. “I see that. You look like you’re going to collapse as soon as I let go of you. Tell you what, I’ll send you back to your room if you agree to come back for lessons after supper tomorrow night. A time when you should be more awake. I am so curious to see how you fare fully awake.” You nod your head numbly, just wanting to allow sleep to take you. “Splendid! Have a lovely rest, dear.”

As he snaps the fingers on his free hand, you could feel the floor disappear under you. Before you could drop, Alastor allows you to essentially float for a second while he lifts your hand he had been covering and kisses the back of it. Next thing you know you fall into inky blackness before feeling the familiar softness of your bed. As sleep begins to over take you, you think back upon those final moments and let them sink in. ‘Oh shit.’ The radio demon just kissed the back of your hand. Not to mention, he also now has one of your blankets. Your eyes snap open, and suddenly you didn’t feel tired anymore. ‘God fucking damn it, Alastor.’