#i'm just stuck in a moment of UNKNOWNS right now

[treatbuckywkisses]

HI I STAYED UP WAY TOO LATE TO READ THIS PART !!!! :))

(also this might be my longest rb so far)

SIX UPON A TIME

"You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick." - let's kiss him on the mouth 🫶🏻

"A reason to get up in the morning." - SHUT. YOUR. MOUTH.

"But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus." - No I can't do this 

"Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe. " - Nika I'm fucking crying. I wish I was exaggerating but I'm actually fucking crying before 10pm.

"But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real? " - the woman that you are. Oh. My. God. You are completely unreal this is phenomenal.

"His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either." - I have actual tears in my eyes you are so evil 

"That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though." - Nika I'm fucking sick to my stomach what the fuck is wrong with you 

Brief intermission bc I got too into it and read the rest twice before coming back to make notes (I was too immersed)

A crack in the sky you are insane I would FREAK

Where TF does bucky go during the day. As a naturally nosy gal the unknowns in this story make me ITCH I can't wait for everything to be revealed

"Why won’t you look at me? " - this is so hurtful why are you being so mean to me

HOW IS THE DELIVERY MAN EARLY IM LITERALLY IN SHOCK AND WE MOVED ON FROM THIS TOO FAST????????

"You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders." - hehe we have the cloak 🫶🏻 

""I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"" - why did this make ME relieved like I'm stuck in the loop too 😭 I literally have felt anxious for our dear reader like I'm sick and this has soothed my heart the smallest bit (I'm still scared of you)

"You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed." - Frick you for putting him in the floor what has my baby done to you let him be comfortable 😭😭 

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up." - this made me LAUGH I needed that 

CAPS BDAY IM CRACKING UP THATS SUCH A FUN SILLY MOMENT

"He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes." - THEY ARE SO IN LOVE MY GOD IM SICK 

Why are we waking up to silence I'm gonna throw up Nika 

What did the powers do 

Alpine can see us that is both cute and scary 😅 

"You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him." - what is wrong with you 

"That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse." - how dare you write these 2 paragraphs and also put them so close together????????

"And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for." - FULL. BODY. CHILLS. WHAT A MIND YOU HAVE NIKA. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS.

"Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you." - THE LAST LINE ?????? I'm speechless 

"And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab." - ok chapter 7 pls 🫶🏻 

I'm kidding you are PERFECT I can't believe I missed out on this for as long as I did?!!!!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your incredible brain with me I want to kiss you on the mouth I love you!!!!!!!

time after time [6]

series summary: After what starts out as a fairly normal mission, you find yourself stuck in a time loop. Which would already be bad enough in itself if it didn’t also mean having to watch Bucky die over and over again.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 12.8k

chapter warnings: maybe reacquaint yourselves with the story premise, it's been a hot minute; characters refusing to be honest with themselves and each other; violence against side characters, minor injury descriptions; strange is still annoying

a/n: this is quite possibly the scariest fic update i've ever made. a lot has happened since the last chapter was posted, and i won't bore you with all of it. suffice it to say, i missed sharing this story. thank you for being patient with me.

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3

six: butterfly effect

Working with Sam and Bucky was different than working with Natasha and Steve had been.

At the Compound, it had felt terrifyingly easy to find your place, to slip into the new role they granted you as if you were always meant to fill it. You’d felt that way before, and it hadn’t turned out quite so well. Maybe that was why you used to dread the end.

Now, however, for the first time in a while, you constantly had to prove yourself in order to not be left back in that dark place they’d found you in, alone and trying to make sense of any of it. And you liked that. The challenge was something you could live with, something you could enjoy more than the ever chilling anxiousness that things were simply too good to be true.

So when Sam called you on for a follow-up mission shortly after the first one, you jumped at the chance.

It didn’t matter that you barely talked about anything but work, even when you were hanging out in your spare time; in fact, you much preferred that to digging up the past. You even learned to find a wicked sort of enjoyment in provoking Bucky’s initial dislike of you to the point of where he would barely speak to you at all unless it was to snap at you.

You weren’t sure what you wanted him to do, but it was fun to watch the time bomb tick.

It wasn’t as easy to get under the new cap’s skin.

"You’re making us sound like we’re partners in a law firm," Sam said, a smile clearly audible in his voice even though his eyes didn’t betray it. Bucky didn’t even dignify you with a clench of his jaw.

"What?" you said, crossing your legs. "Every newspaper in the city calls you 'Wilson and Barnes'. Don’t you ever read the articles about yourselves?"

"Unlike some people, I don’t have all the time in the world," Sam said, leaning back on the couch with his eyes closed.

"Pity. The Bulletin called you the 'nation’s new dynamic duo' last week." You looked at Bucky, your eyebrows raised in amusement. "You’ve officially been downgraded to a sidekick, Barnes."

He answered with an empty glare of his own. "And what does that make you?" he said, but not like a question.

"Nothing at all," you still grinned. "Everything is right in the universe."

The reporters had yet to pick up on your addition to the team, which was proof enough that your powers still sufficed to fly under the radar. Combined with the fact that you were actually regularly talking to people again—and people who weren’t your therapist or your customers no less—, things almost felt like they were settling into a new kind of normal. Still somewhat weird, and still a struggle each day, but somewhat hopeful, nevertheless.

You’d almost forgotten what that could feel like.

“Right. You’d prefer people not knowing about your creepy powers.”

"Aww." You tilted your head to the side happily. "You think I’m creepy."

Bucky scoffed into his mug, refusing to look at you like he always did, and then he strolled off again.

In truth, you couldn’t blame him all that much. You’d lived with your powers all your life and still found them unsettling sometimes, particularly when they got away from you and left you trapped in a universe that refused to move.

That was none of his business, though.

Besides, Bucky had taken to moving around so quietly you could never tell he was there until he’d cough and you’d flinch, usually dropping whatever you were holding in your hands. You’d already cracked your phone screen twice.

Not that he’d know, or care if he did. It gave you great satisfaction to erase his amused smirk from existence.

"Give it time," Sam said without moving. "He doesn’t like new people."

"Neither do I," you murmured, and he snorted. "What?"

"Pretend with me all you want, but maybe do a bit of introspection there."

You crossed your arms with a pout. "You sound like my therapist."

"Mhm," Sam hummed, opening one eye to look at you. "You owe me fifty bucks for that."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, would you look at that, the price just went up."

He chuckled as you flipped him off and went to look for the coffee pot.

Of course, your way got blocked. The downsides of not hating having people around.

Bucky was leaning against the counter, considering you. "You go to therapy?"

"You should try it some time," you said distractedly, reaching around him to get your favorite mug. Bucky recoiled like he was afraid you’d burn him. You shook your head in annoyance. "Helps with the stink eye."

"Is that what they told you?"

"They told me I needed to process my grief, but I decided to focus on some more achievable goals." You took a sip of your coffee, sighing in comfort. "We came up with a compromise."

Bucky scoffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He still hadn’t taken his gloves off around you.

"Sounds like a way to drag it out," he said.

You frowned into your cup. "It’s not a race, Barnes. There’s no finish line for this shit."

Something odd went over his face, but he went back to avoiding your gaze when you tried to make it out. You knew him well enough by then to get the hint, and so you left him alone.

What was it to you if he didn’t want to warm up to you. That had no bearing on the fact that overall, your situation wasn’t all too bad anymore.

It was something, you supposed as you curled up in your spot on the couch with your book later that day, slipping in and out of time to keep your company a little longer because deep down, you knew you were sick of being alone.

It was weird and different, yes, but it was still something anyway. Something to do with your afternoons again.

A reason to get up in the morning.

*****

"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks quietly, carefully, but he makes no attempt to pull back from your embrace. It allows you to take another shuddering breath, inhaling his scent until it makes you dizzy.

The fact that you probably won’t be this close to him again any time soon makes you press into his chest even harder, hard enough to feel his heart flutter against your forehead, the shock of the situation making it pick up speed.

For a split second, you slip into a sort of vacuum, your thoughts quieting as he keeps mumbling to you, and in that blissful moment, your situation doesn’t seem quite so dire anymore, more like a bad dream. You’re safe now, aren’t you? How could you not be?

But then you blink back into reality again when Bucky sits you down on the closed lid of your toilet and slowly makes you let go of his shirt, kneeling down in front of you. The blue of his eyes is devastating, even though you have to keep blinking to keep him in focus.

You don’t want to have to do this, you realize once your gasps for air start calming again. You’re not sure if you can bear it.

But nothing in this loop has been about what you wanted.

And so your resolve is made, with your heart sinking until it’s hidden away deep, deep inside of your chest. You ball your hands into fists to keep your fingers from twitching.

Two or three times he watches you inhale, start to say something, halt before you can, almost choking on it. Like your body is refusing to go through with it.

"How do you know when I’m lying?" you finally ask, and your voice sounds oddly clear in your small bathroom.

Bucky’s face goes from concern to confusion, his frown deepening. You want to smoothe it away with your thumb.

You close your eyes so maybe the temptation goes away.

"What?" he asks, and he still sounds so damn gentle.

"I’ve never been able to lie to you," you say. "What’s my tell?"

You can feel him move away from you and the ache of it makes you look again. His shirt and his hands are covered in his own blood, and you’re sure there’s some fucking metaphor in the way it stains the golden inlets of his vibranium arm crimson but for the most part, you can’t unsee the damn irony of it all.

Because you’ve pissed him off now.

"You scared the shit out of me, Y/N. And Sam, too." There’s the sharpness in his voice you know all too well. You haven’t heard it in a while. "What the hell is going on?"

"I’m trapped in a time loop," you say, squeezing your fists more tightly. "I’ve been reliving this day for weeks, my powers aren’t working, I’m the only one who can stop time from completely collapsing, I can’t do that without my powers, and you’re gonna die later today. Am I lying?"

It’s maybe the worst way you’ve ever told him, because watching Bucky’s face change is almost too much. This is exactly why you’re doing it, though; as long as you’re going through this loop with a giant guilty knot in your stomach, you’re not going to make any progress. And you need to put an end to all of it.

So you meet his gaze, almost unwavering, and you don’t blink.

His shock bursts free as an incredulous laugh. "What?"

"I’m stuck," you say again, slower, nodding at his hands, his blood, continuing to push, "and you keep dying."

Bucky looks down, then, before his gaze falls back onto you and he sits back on his heels. The pause lasts for way too long, heavy and smelling of iron, and you’re pretty sure you’re suffocating. He only says one word, and it sounds so defeated. "How?"

You swallow heavily. "You got shot on a mission," you say, but he shakes his head, the fire returning to his eyes.

"No. How did you get stuck?"

"I …" You blink, because you’re not prepared for this question, because you can never predict what he’s going to say, because he keeps doing that to you, because somehow, and not like you’ve expected, you feel like you’ve been here before.

How did it happen? That’s not … Okay.

"It was an accident," you finally say, helplessly, defensively.

There’s a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes. "What happened?"

"You died. You died that first time and I didn’t—I couldn’t …" You swallow the sob that threatens to shake your voice again. Damnit, you’re supposed to push him away.

He moves his arm, then hesitates, as if he wants to reach out to you but changes his mind at the very last moment.

Right. He doesn’t normally do that.

Except he has.

He has held your hand and pulled you closer and written on your arm and let you lean on him with the full weight of your body, as if to him, you weighed nothing at all. He’s been offering to carry your load so many times, and he doesn’t remember a single one of them.

"Please don’t look at me like that," you say tonelessly, watching Bucky retreat.

"Like what?"

"Like I’m gonna fall apart at any moment. And yes," you add when his mouth opens, "I—I know I just did, I’m aware of the irony, but this is exactly why I can’t keep telling you, I don’t—I can’t stand it." You press your wrists against your temples, ignoring the buzz of the whirling time symbols against your skin, the stinging in your eyes. "You shouldn’t even—I mean, are you even the slightest bit worried about yourself? Because I feel like I’m the only one here, and I should’ve just—"

You stop yourself, shaking your head. Your hands are very clammy all of a sudden, and when you tug at your rings just to do something, one of them slips off your finger and clangs against the tiles as if to punctuate the silence.

When you reach down, you move your wrist in a way that makes you hiss in pain and flinch back. Bucky’s eyes flit between your own and your hand, his frown deepening in a strangely soft way. "Did you break it?" he asks quietly.

"I’m fine," you mumble, and he looks at you disapprovingly. "You’d grabbed my hand just before …"

His jaw twitches as the blame settles in again, and you would do fucking anything to finally make him understand that none of this is his fault. That you should be in pain for what you’re putting him through.

"It should’ve been me," you tell him, because it’s true.

Even earlier in the week, you would’ve taken great delight in seeing Bucky Barnes’ face fall at something you’d said. Hell, you’d have probably enjoyed it on Thursday, because there used to be this easy sort of gratification that came from riling him up, from catching him off guard.

Seeing it now, though?

It makes your fingers twitch.

"Don’t say that. Not even as a joke."

"I’m not joking." You can feel your pulse in your ears. "They aimed a shot at me, and you pushed me out of the way, and you died. So by all accounts, if your instincts weren’t so damn noble all the time, it should’ve been me, and if I weren’t such a fucking coward, I’d have gone back and switched places with you weeks ago."

The thought terrifies you, even though it’s true. No part of you wants to go through the things Bucky is, but if someone gave you the choice between either one of you right now, you wouldn’t even have to think about it.

Maybe that’s the most terrifying thought of them all. You would die for him. Once, twice, however many times are necessary if that meant that he’s safe.

"I’d like to see you try," Bucky says, and something slams into your chest as an old familiar shiver runs down your spine.

There’s a pained edge to his gaze, contemplative and heartbreaking and …

"You’re doing it again," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What am I doing?" His hand brushes your knee, and your skin is left searing.

You swallow heavily. "Being noble."

Bucky chuckles softly, and his eyes leave yours for just a moment. "Don’t exactly feel like that."

He’s beautiful.

It’s a new thought, despite everything. Even when you’ve noticed it before, you’d roll your eyes at the fact and move on, because this was Bucky. So what if his face was delectably handsome?

But it seems like you haven’t known it at all, because right now, you feel the knowledge of it, of him, surge through you with all its facets. You can’t even begin to put it into words, because where would you start? How do you explain what he makes you feel when he hasn’t been there himself, not in any way that matters or sticks? And if it’s never happened at all, if time keeps unraveling like this, how can it even be real?

So it’s pure instinct that makes you move, like someone would pinch themselves to ensure they’re not asleep, even though you’re very aware that this isn’t just a dream. You need to confirm that Bucky is real, though.

The air stands still when your fingertips trace along his cheekbone, leaving a delicate flush behind in their trail, barely touching and yet …

And yet.

His breath hitches when they dip lower, almost reaching the place you’ve watched dimple when he laughs, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t laugh, either.

There’s a scraping sound at the closed bathroom door, followed by a short knock. You flinch backwards.

"I’m leaving the first aid kit on the bed," Sam calls from the other side. "Just … holler if you need me."

"Thanks, Sam," Bucky says coarsely, and you can hear steps receding. The scratching continues, though. That damn cat.

Finally, he breaks eye contact, clearing his throat.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?"

You shake your head. You’re not sure you could stomach more of this. "I’m good, don’t … Don’t worry about it."

Bucky drags a hand through his hair, muttering something to himself you can’t quite make out. Slowly, he gets to his feet again.

"We need to come up with a plan," he says, and you want to cry except … you’re tired. Tired and sick of this.

"I need to come up with a plan," you correct him. "We have been trying to do this as a team for weeks, and it doesn’t change anything except waste time and …" And hurt. "I can’t do it anymore, Buck."

There must be something in your voice that thaws his defiant glare a little. "So what’s the plan?"

And with a sigh, you fill him in on everything that’s been going on with Strange and your powers. Again. One last time.

You have to do this alone.

Bucky ignores your insistence that you can manage just fine and sets your wrist while you talk. Alpine, now free to roam wherever she pleases again, has decided the bathroom isn’t quite that interesting after a short look inside, and is now taking a nap in the spot of sunshine next to your bed.

"New deal," he says once you’re done, once he’s thought about it all, and you raise your eyebrows. "Don’t do anything stupid."

"You know me," you smile, checking the makeshift dressing around your hand. The green symbols are hidden by the layers of gauze.

Bucky doesn’t bite. "I’m serious, just—don’t."

"How would you know?"

"I wouldn’t," he says, snapping the first aid kit shut so vehemently Alpine’s tail twitches. "But I trust you."

Your head whips up at his words, even though his back is still turned to you. He doesn’t see your face as your heart is jostled into a new rhythm, so violently and unexpectedly that you lift your hand without thinking, pinkie outstretched.

"Promise."

He smiles when he notices, and you wish you could take a picture to carry with you through the rest of this nightmare.

That day, he dies with your stupid nickname on his lips, twisted into something that looks strangely close to that earlier smile. This one doesn’t have time to reach his eyes, though.

***

There’s been a change in the weather.

Not literally, no; of course not literally. Fuck, you long for a single cloud, a raindrop, a damn hailstorm to break the streak of endless perfectly sunny days that don’t fit your mood in the slightest.

But there’s a tinge to the sky that makes your stomach turn. It’s not very obvious to anyone who hasn’t looked at the exact same sunset for weeks on end, just a single strip of color across a storybook horizon. It looks like a crack.

"Do you see that?" you ask warily when you notice it for the first time, ominous and yet almost completely hidden by the trees and the buildings. Just dancing around the edge of your vision like another mockery.

"What?" Sam asks, eyes not leaving the path ahead.

"That … thing in the sky. What is that?"

Bucky stops and squints at where you’re pointing. "It’s called a cloud," he says dryly.

"With that color?" you murmur, but continue walking when he stops to turn to you, your wrist tingling. His stare is searing your neck, but you ignore that, too.

The best course of action, you’ve learned, is to shut your brain off as soon as you get out of the quinjet and just go through the motions, trying to ride out the mission like you’ve done dozens of times before. There’s a sort of autopilot you’ve fallen into after a couple of days, and it’s the only thing keeping you somewhat sane. Most days, it means it’s all over quickly, and you can’t help but feel glad about that.

You’ve given up trying to change your own actions to get him through the day.

But this …

It’s something new, and in all this monotony, that thought is both frightening and exciting. It distracts you enough to get you off script.

"Lovely interior design," Sam mumbles like he always does.

"Remember how this was supposed to be a day off?" You kick one of the pebbles in your path with a sigh. "What happened to 'don’t worry, Y/N, after training the day is all yours'?"

"Occupational hazard," Sam says, checking his map for the thousandth time.

"You know what I mean."

"Don’t you have tomorrow off?" Bucky says over the intercom.

Tomorrow. "Right." It comes out somewhat strained, your fingernails digging into the palm of your hand. "And why do you know that?"

Sam shakes his head and there’s a brief crackle of static in your ear. For a fraction of a second, you nearly dare to hope Bucky will give you an answer, even though you have no clue what it would be.

"They’re heading your way now," he says instead, "so get a move on."

And just like that, you’re back on track.

Quickly clearing your throat of the lump that has formed there, you say tonelessly, "I probably only have one reset left. Two, if we’re lucky and you two aren’t being stupid again."

It’s taken you a while to get used to it. To the constant lying.

You’ve worn fingerless gloves on missions before, so that’s not raised any questions from the others yet, and your rings stay hidden away. You’ve been more reluctant to take them off since the one you lost on your bathroom floor vanished into thin air.

The other thing you’ve picked up on while endlessly repeating this day is that Bucky is less likely to catch you in a lie if he can’t see your face.

So you’ve made an effort of spending as little time as possible with him.

It’s surprisingly easy to stay in your room for the majority of the day, because he doesn’t remember it ever being any other way. Even today’s little exchange will be lost to the loop soon enough, just like that little pause he made, just like the bullet through his heart.

Still, when you wake up with a start on Friday, July 4th, you look at the sky first. Its perfect blue doesn’t soothe the sinking feeling in your stomach at all.

You’ve been waiting for something to change for weeks, and now that it’s here, you don’t like it at all.

"What did you expect?" Strange says with an infuriating composure once you’ve nervously recounted your experience. "I told you, time isn’t supposed to get stuck in this way. Of course your reality was going to act up sooner or later."

"I really feel like you should be more concerned about this," you mutter, letting a ball of green energy pass from your left hand to the right. It’s about the size of a quarter now.

"Honestly," Strange answers, "I thought something like this would have happened a while ago." He taps his fingers together. "Again. Slower."

"So what am I supposed to do then, just ignore it?" The green ball pulses with your indignation, turns around itself once and then sinks into your palm again.

"In all likelihood, it’s a one time glitch. If everything is back to normal today, I wouldn’t worry about it."

Your thumb rubs across the empty space on your finger. "Easy for you to say if you’re not the one who’s stuck in an endless hellscape."

"Aren’t I?"

You both roll your eyes at each other, but then you bite the inside of your cheek again, unable to shake the feeling of a whole new shade of dread. "What if it’s not just a one time glitch?"

The corners of Strange’s cloak roll up on themselves, and he doesn’t meet your eye when he says, "We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it."

It’s still early when you return to the present, too early for Bucky to be back from wherever he’s always going, so you decide to venture out of your room again, stretching your tired limbs. You’re pretty sure at this point that waking up on the floor is never going to feel fun.

Sam is in the kitchen as always, reading something on his laptop. He’s still sitting down, which means that it’s even earlier than you expected. You miss these early parts of the day, the calm before the storm.

If today were only made up of these few hours, you suppose, it might not be half so bad.

You pull up a chair next to him and lean a cheek against your hand. "What’re you doing?"

"Research." Sam sighs, rubbing his temples. "Remember that ULTIMATUM group?"

"Never heard of them," you say with a small yawn. "Is that an acronym? What does it stand for?"

Sam gives you a glare and your mouth twitches slightly.

"Anyway," he continues, turning his laptop so you can see the article he’s reading. "They’ve been more active again lately. Acquired a couple thousand dollars’ worth of lab equipment through one of their contacts and then went underground again."

Of course, you know all this. You’ve been over it again and again, back when you were all still trading information like it could save Bucky’s life. Like there was a deeper meaning behind any of this damn loop other than the fact that you, and you alone, fucked up.

Useless.

You close the mental door on those thoughts and take a deep breath. You hate to admit it, but all of this sitting around with your thoughts bullshit you’ve been doing has actually helped you to clear your head somewhat—if only to make it through the parts of the day you can’t avoid.

"And now what?" you ask, pretending to just have reacquainted yourself with the topic.

"Now," Sam says, taking his laptop with him as he stands up and strolls over to the kitchen island, "I’m waiting for Torres to get back to me so we can decide our next steps once we’re all recovered." He gives you a meaningful look and you scowl.

Then, slowly, his words register in your brain, and you stare at his back as he stretches and then moves to make some coffee, wordlessly taking one of your mugs out of the cupboard as well as his own.

"You don’t seem too worried," you say hesitantly.

Sam shrugs. "Until we have a proper lead, there’s not much we can do. And I doubt they’ll be doing any actual damage any time soon. They’re a lot more covert than the Flag Smashers ever were."

"Right," you say, more to yourself than in response.

"Try that again, less convincing?"

"I don’t know," you mutter, slowly following him to lean against the fridge. "Just … what if Torres did find something? Should I be getting ready?"

Sam frowns. "Are you not telling me something again?"

You try to shake the thought, pulling your arms around you. "Forget it."

You don’t, though.

It keeps bugging you, because that day like any other day, he knocks on your door at 4:32 on the dot, and you go on that mission anyway. And even though this has been happening for weeks, you’re just starting to suspect that you are, in fact, still not getting the whole picture.

***

Catching a glimpse of Sam’s phone turns out to be more difficult than you first thought.

You’re still trying to get the timing exactly right a couple of days later, and you miscalculate enough to catch Bucky on his way upstairs.

"Hey," he says, his shoulders tense when he looks at you. There’s a restlessness to him that he’s not quick enough to hide; or maybe you’ve just grown more perceptive when it comes to him.

"Hi," you say, crossing your hands behind your back. "Where’ve you been?"

He shrugs. "For a walk."

You already know he won’t elaborate if you try poking, so you don’t. "Was it good?"

"Lotta people." He hesitates when you continue to not meet his eye, and then he says, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You swallow, ignoring the tingling sensation on your wrist. "Not particularly. Do you?"

Bucky’s jaw twitches. "Nah."

Somehow, you feel like that’s also a lie. Once again, you’re left wondering.

The silence between you stretches as you continue to not quite look at each other, until you finally clear your throat, nodding at the front door. "I’m getting coffee, do you want something?"

Honestly, it’s just an excuse as to why you need to leave before he notices something off again somehow, but Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

"Didn’t you just get some this morning?"

"So? I like coffee."

"Really. I never knew."

"Screw you."

You can hear him huff behind you, but thankfully the door falls shut before you can do anything stupid. Like turning around to face him, for example.

You miss his eyes.

Why won’t you look at me?

When the elevator doors open, you almost yelp into your delivery guy’s face. He stumbles a half-step backwards, somehow managing to keep a hold of the boxes precariously balanced on his arm while he’s reading something on his phone.

"Oh my god," he lets out, "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was just …"

"Early." You blink.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," you say, frowning only a little. "Wait, let me get that."

You quickly sign for the delivery and open the door with your keycard, holding it open for him. You’re not exactly afraid of burglars these days, and besides; you know this guy by now.

"If you could just go straight ahead and to the right, that’s where the kitchen is."

"Sure thing," he shrugs. "Thanks—"

His mouth snaps shut and he blushes a little as if he wanted to say something else but thought better of it.

You’ve introduced him to Sam enough times you know he’s going to be fine, so you just smile and wave him in.

When you step out on the street, you instinctually look up at the sky. It’s outrageously blue, blatantly perfect for an endless Friday, and even when you squint, you can’t make out any irregularities.

It’s a tiny relief, but a relief nontheless.

Lucy is leaning against the wall just out of sight of the storefront, an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips as she rummages through her pockets. Her colorful makeup has begun to melt off in the sweltering heat, making the red-white-and-blue stars on her cheeks bleed into each other to look somewhat purplish.

"Are you off or on break?" you call over.

She lifts her head, the glare vanishing when she recognizes you. "Counting the seconds," she says. "Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You sidestep a couple of pedestrians hurrying to cross the street and join her. "Not really."

"I hate you." She finally fishes a lighter out of her back pocket, sighing contentedly as she takes her first drag. "I swear, this day just won’t pass."

Fine. Maybe your chuckle is a little shrill. "I’m sorry."

Lucy waves you off with a gesture crude enough to make a young dad with a stroller send the two of you a dirty look. "You without your shadow today?" she asks, inspecting her nails.

You blink. "My shadow."

"You know. Your friend who’s been in here eight thousand times and still gets confused when he orders." A cloud of smoke vanishes into thin air. "Kind of the lingering type, isn’t he?"

"He’s old," you say, because for some reason nothing else comes to mind.

"Not that old."

"No," you agree, "not that old."

For a moment, you’re afraid she’s going to ask you to pass her number along to him, and you’re already scrambling to find an answer somewhere in the depths of your brain, coming up empty. That’s the problem with being able to unhave entire conversations; you don’t usually really have to deal with reactions if you don’t want to.

Without your powers, though, you’re stuck, and it’s making you wish you hadn’t come here at all.

Instead of any of that, she pulls a flyer out of her other pocket. "Sorin and Cass are doing a gig in Brooklyn next week, do you wanna come with? They’re still terrible, but they got a new bassist who seems alright."

You take the flyer, staring at it. "I didn’t know they’re in a band," you admit.

The truth is, you’ve never paid that much close attention to the people you work with. Maybe that’s been a mistake.

Lucy shrugs. "You’re always doing your own thing." It stings, even though you’re pretty sure she doesn’t mean for it to. "It’d be fun if you came, though."

"I’ll think about it," you say, and your smile is a little unsure, but genuine.

So is hers.

"If you don’t want to hang with us all night, you can bring some friends, too." Her emphasis hangs in the air between you like a dare.

You snort. "I feel like this isn’t quite their scene."

"You feel like or you know?"

"Isn’t that the same thing?"

"No." She puts her cigarette out on the wall behind her. "Knowledge is based on experience. On memories. Your feelings don’t sit in your head. And so they don’t make sense and they’re not necessarily true." She winks.

"You’re weirdly smart," you say, shaking your head.

"I know. It’s a curse." Lucy sighs. "Anyway, think about it. I gotta get back to hell."

"You know," you say with a grin, "I could really do with a frappuccino right about now."

"You know what you could do?" she answers in her sweetest customer service voice, pointing you down the street. "Get in a trash can."

Damnit. You might actually grow to like Lucy.

She taps her fingers against her temple and then shuffles back inside, a hot rush of air blowing out of the AC as the door opens. You fold the flyer up to fit into your back pocket, hoping you’ll make it to that concert one day, and then you walk on, aimless again for the moment.

***

Time passes while it’s standing still.

The problem is, at least for the moment, that by all appearances you’ve reverted back to square one. Going through your day as though any of this is even remotely normal, counting the hours and minutes to reenter the astral plane and feel some semblance of control again.

It’s been nice, really, if you’re ignoring the constant underlying feeling of dread.

Which you’re getting better at.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Rinse and repeat.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

Even on days when you’re sure you’re making progress with your powers, every reset makes it just a little harder to keep dragging yourself onwards.

You wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume.

"You look like shit."

Your head rolls to the side slowly, allowing yourself a glance while Bucky is still distracted with his arm. Concentration makes his brows knit, and something warm spreads in your chest.

"I’m so tired," you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t look at you, but you’re grateful for it for once. Your eyes are stinging a little.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes. Yes.

"Not particularly."

"Do you want to talk about something else?"

You almost smile. "Like what?"

Bucky shrugs with one shoulder. "Like the fact that you just planted Sam into the mat head-first and yet made a face like you killed a puppy?"

Sometimes you wonder how he still manages to slip in without you noticing, no matter how many times he does it.

"Did I?"

"Did you kill a puppy? I’d hope not."

Your body’s been getting stronger, anticipating Sam’s every move. At this point, it’s not so much training as it is an exercise in muscle memory; but how would he know that?

It still isn’t enough. It’s never enough.

You pitiful, selfish, useless bastard.

"You’re doing it again," Bucky says and you blink.

"Doing what?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t like it."

Something inside you twinges uncomfortably and you wrap your arms around your knees, pulling them into your chest. "That might just be me, period."

Bucky huffs. "Take the towel on the right," he says. "I already used the other one."

So you do.

And then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume, and then you wake up with blah, blah, blah.

"I can’t do this anymore."

Strange watches you, but you don’t get up from where you’re lying, blankly staring at the ceiling, feeling like your chest is about to explode.

You don’t want to feel like something is tearing you apart every single time, even though you know it’s not permanent. There’s always the tiniest glimmer of hope that this will all be over soon.

Or maybe it’s dread.

"Maybe you can’t," Strange answers.

You blink, sitting upright. "What?"

"Maybe you are actually incapable of cleaning up your own mess. You’ve never had any training before, after all. Maybe you’re too weak."

Useless. Not good enough. Waste of time.

"If this is reverse psychology, it’s not working," you say through gritted teeth, pressing your eyes shut so tightly they don’t burn anymore.

Strange ignores you. "Maybe you’re going to be stuck in this loop forever. If that’s the case, there’s no point to keep trying either. Maybe we should just call it a day."

You can feel your breaths coming in shorter.

"Maybe you’re just going to keep failing to save anyone for the rest of your life."

"Stop it!"

An explosion of power goes through your body, bouncing off the walls and bathing the room in a ghostly green light. You cough and curl into yourself as you watch it billow, still echoing the words back at you, "too weak", "stuck in this loop forever". Your bones are heavy with exhaustion.

Strange crouches down next to you and a cup of fragrant tea draws itself up to the side of your face.

"You’re drawing the bulk of your power from pain. From a desire to fix things that you think you alone are responsible for when the truth is that each and every one of us is constantly creating reality."

"Fuck you," you mumble. When you sit up, your head is still swimming.

"You cannot keep this up."

"If I’m such a lost case, then why do you bother?"

"I’m trying to tell you that you’re not." He points at the walls, still covered by that greenish fog. "This is the strongest display of your powers I’ve seen from you yet, and it only happened because you were lashing out. Pain is not a sustainable source of energy. Imagine what you could do if you could be in control."

Do as I tell you.

"There’s no way to control my powers on a larger scale. It’s impossible."

"You keep telling me that, and yet you keep coming back. Why?"

You push yourself up to your elbows, wiping at your face. "Because I have to hope, right?"

"And there it is."

You take a sip of your tea and some feeling returns to your translucent fingers. Strange’s cloak draws itself around your shoulders.

The wizard himself stays quiet for another minute or two, before he asks, "Why do you think I’m talking to you right now? Helping you, even, nevermind your constant whining and your insistence that this won’t work, after you’ve spent your whole life running away from anything resembling actual responsibilities."

"I didn’t—"

"Answer the question."

"Because I created a time loop?" you guess.

"But you already know that this loop is just one point on the timeline. A single day, repeated endlessly, but going exactly like it was always supposed to, once resolved. So, without the time stone and my privileges as the Sorcerer Supreme, and with your protections still in place, how would I have found you?"

He knew exactly where and when to look for you. But he’s right, that shouldn’t even have been possible unless …

"I came to you," you realize. "Or, I will, once I get out of this." The relief that washes over you makes you want to sob. "So there is a way out?"

"Of course there is," he says, surprisingly gently. "Time isn’t supposed to get stuck."

You sit with that for a minute, hiding your face in your hands as Strange stays silent. Finally, you take a deep breath and look at him again with newly sharp focus.

"So why don’t you just tell me how to do it?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know that’s not how it works."

"Yes. It is. It’s literally what I do all the time."

"What you do is leaving realities you don’t like by turning backwards."

"That’s not true."

"Just because your motivations aren’t entirely selfish doesn’t mean you’re right."

You’re so damn exhausted. The frustration of this whole thing is really starting to scratch at your sanity, and there’s an ache in your chest as you stare at your own sleeping face, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking.

Strange snaps his fingers to get your attention back.

"I’m not a mind reader," he says. "Out with it."

"I want to see him," you say, getting up. The cloak flaps around you in a very satisfying way. "Bucky. It’s early this morning, right? Just before the loop starts again. That means he’s upstairs."

"And what’s seeing him going to do?"

You ignore him and walk towards the door, reaching for the handle. Your hand goes right through it. You try it several more times, to no avail.

"Heaven help me," Strange mutters behind you.

Shutting your eyes, you take a deep breath. The circle of green tingles around your wrist.

Then, you walk through the closed door.

You fully expect to crash into the wood head first, but instead you feel the door moving through your noncorporeal form, and then you’re standing on the other side.

With a startled hum, you turn left, not waiting to see if you’re being followed.

You only hesitate in front of Bucky’s bedroom door. You’ve never actually been inside his room since he’s moved in; well, apart from that time he patched up your feet and you woke up in the astral plane for the first time. It feels odd to consider entering without him actually being aware of it.

Then again, there’s quite a few things at this point that he’s unaware of.

Before you can make up your mind, the door swings open just a little, and you automatically take a step back. Alpine sleepily slinks through the gap and trots off in the direction you came from, probably to sit in the kitchen and mope until FRIDAY activates the food dispenser again. On the stairs, she passes Strange who raises an eyebrow at you.

"Changed your mind?"

You glance into the room.

At first, you can’t find him. The bedding looks untouched, and there’s a brief flurry of panic that makes you step inside before you can keep questioning yourself.

Bucky is lying on the floor next to the bed, his hands balled tightly into an old throw blanket. It’s haphazardly draped across his torso, like he’s been trying to wriggle free during the night. He grimaces in his sleep.

Try the floor.

You can’t help but wonder when he’s last tried the bed.

"Can he hear us?" you ask quietly, not needing to look over your shoulder as you sink to the floor next to Bucky.

"No," Strange says. "Not until you put in a lot more work."

"Would he remember if I did?"

"I don’t know."

You do look back at him, then. "You know, considering your position you don’t know a whole lot of things."

You concentrate on your own hand until you’re starting to feel cool metal underneath your fingertips, ignoring the throbbing of your head. Carefully, you touch the crease between his brows, smoothing it out tenderly.

Bucky sighs a little in his sleep, but doesn’t stir. Doesn’t stop quietly murmuring in his dreams.

"You feel better?" Strange asks.

"Not really." You’ve already reached out to him without it having any repercussions too many times. "But that wasn’t the point."

"What was?"

"Just …"

Comfort. He brings you comfort, even when he doesn’t know it. It’s the same reason you keep waiting for him to arrive in the gym in the mornings, even though you could probably hurry up and miss him.

Even if the loop never ends, it’s still good to see that it’s bringing him back like it’s supposed to.

How incredibly selfish, you think as you continue looking at Bucky and letting a quiet, hesitant wash of calm come over you.

And then, all of a sudden, his eyes open.

You flinch backwards, but even though you’re almost face to face, he seems to stare right through you, his breaths heavy.

"Did I do something?" you say quietly.

"No," Strange answers. "This is just when he wakes up."

You watch as Bucky drags a hand over his face and then gets up with a determined tick in his jaw, grabbing a notebook from the nightstand. He scribbles something down, hastily, like it’s threatening to get away from him if he doesn’t hurry. You don’t have to read it to know it has something to do with what he’s seen in his sleep.

When the words stop flowing, he sits on the edge of the bed for a minute longer, but the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Finally, he rolls his left arm a few times before pulling on a shirt and his running shoes.

He always goes for a run in the morning. You’ve made fun of him for it before, but you hadn’t put together that while Strange was trying to get you to clear your own head through sitting still, Bucky might be doing the exact opposite to get the same result.

The door clicks shut.

"Are we done with the spying, then?" Strange says.

"No need to get weird about it," you mumble and take his outstretched hand.

***

Something changes once you know that your situation actually has an end date, even though Strange either cannot or will not tell you how many more loops you’re going to have to go through until then. Even so, there’s a new assurance to your every step again, a determination grown from the knowledge that all this isn’t for nothing. That there is an out.

You can cling to that.

"What would you do if you were stuck in a time loop?" you ask, letting your legs dangle over the ledge of the roof.

"Ew, no," Lucy replies, shaking the few remaining ice cubes in her cup emphatically. "My shift was long enough as is, and I’ve been looking forward to my Sunday off all week."

"Fair point," you concede.

It’s early afternoon then, and you’ve found a quiet spot on the top of the Tower. If Lucy was at all confused why you’d shown up at the store right when she clocked out and asked her to hang out, she’s not showing it. Over the past couple of loops, you’ve learned that she really likes to go with the flow, and you appreciate that.

"If it’s not today, though," she continues, like she’s thinking aloud. "Imagine the books you could read. You could try out all that stuff that you say you want to do, and then you never have the time to actually do them."

It’s a good thought, but a lack of time has never really been an issue for you. "Nothing you do would really stick, though."

She squints against the sun. "You realize that’s a pro, right? No consequences whatsoever. I could cut my bangs again and they’d be gone the next day."

"You used to have bangs?"

"Never, and I’m willing to state that in a court of law."

You smile and lean back on your elbows. "If something good happened, that’d be gone, too, though. You don’t get to keep that, either."

"Yeah," Lucy says thoughtfully. "I’d still remember it though, right? It still happened. I could make it happen again."

"Maybe." Your thumb scratches the empty space on your pinkie. Even though you’ve turned your entire bathroom upside down, your ring is still gone, like it just up and disappeared from this reality. You can’t help but wonder if that rift in the sky from a few todays ago has anything to do with that.

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

Lucy takes another slurping sip from her almost empty cup. "What would you do in a time loop?"

You can’t help but laugh. "I’d try to keep making the good things happen, I guess."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

It is.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" someone shouts behind you. "It’s in the fricking nineties today and you’re baking?"

"Technically, we are baking," you say, nodding at Lucy and leaning back further so you can look at Sam upside down. "And we’re baking for you."

"Hi, cap," Lucy says, pulling her sunglasses off.

"Hey." Sam crosses his arms and fixes you with a very cap-like glare. "Why are you baking for me."

"Y/N said it’s for your birthday."

"My—" He cuts himself off, rubbing his temples. "My birthday’s in September."

"Whoops," you say, your grin just believable enough. "My bad, cap."

"You’re not funny," Sam says, "I hope you know that."

You know.

Of course, today isn’t actually his birthday, not even if time were allowed to pass normally. It is day forty-fucking-nine of the loop, though, which makes it your fiftieth time living through this crap and frankly, you all deserve some damn pie.

It’s not going to make a difference in the long run, of course, and yet you can’t help but feel like keeping count of those little markers of time helps to hold your head above water. Making the good things happen, even if they don’t change a thing and no one but you is going to remember.

So you simply say, "It’s turtle pie," because you know that it’s Sam’s favorite. "Hey, what’s the time?"

"Oh, it better be," he says, holding his phone up for you to read and then marching out of your field of vision.

Sadly, you’re just about a minute early.

"He could’ve stayed," Lucy says when you let out a frustrated huff.

"He has that thing at the Garden," you tell her distractedly, taking a mental note to stall Sam a little longer next time.

"There you are."

You flinch at the sound of Bucky’s voice, barely daring to move your head when he sits next to you, his back to the brink.

He never comes up here. That’s the whole point.

"Hi?" you say carefully, and a grin tugs at his mouth.

"Not you," he says, nodding to the ground in front of him.

You turn around fully to find Alpine taking a nap just a few feet behind you, her snowy tail wrapped around a flower pot.

You let out a relieved breath and ignore the small sting in your chest. Of course he’s not up here because of you. Why would he be?

"Gee, thanks," you murmur, quietly shifting around so your hands are hidden underneath your legs. "You sure know how to charm the ladies."

You glance back at Lucy, but she’s looking at her phone, her eyes once again indecipherable behind the large sunglasses.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Think you could handle my charm, Y/L/N?"

He might has well have doused you in a bucket of ice water. You’re suddenly very aware of every single cell in your body, and you don’t like the challenge sparkling in his eyes.

So you do what you always do and you block it out. Dismiss and distract.

"Does Alpine seem weird to you?"

He tilts his head, his jaw tight. "Weird how?"

"I don’t know," you say, staring at her. "She’s just been acting … odd, lately. Today, I mean."

And following you around in a way you’re pretty sure she’s never done before. Not before the loop, at least.

Bucky sighs. "Did you make her scratch you again? Because I’ve told you before that I’m not getting rid of her for enforcing her boundaries."

"First of all, I never make her scratch me, she does that well enough on her own."

"That’s victim blaming," Lucy says without looking up. Bucky snorts and you almost roll your eyes.

"Second of all, she’s up to something. I know it."

"Oh, yes," Bucky says dryly just as Alpine makes a small noise in her dreams, her nose twitching. "That’s the embodiment of evil right there."

"I don’t trust her," you mutter.

"And yet the cat’s the weird one."

"I hate you," you mumble, standing up. "I’m gonna go check on the pie."

"There’s pie?" Bucky says.

"Not for you!"

You turn at the door to see Lucy leaning in to show Bucky something on her phone; the frown has disappeared from his face, his shoulders relaxed. If he’d pull off his glove right now, it’d almost be like sitting in a park.

That’s good, you tell yourself as the door slams shut behind you with a bit too much gusto. Reminds you that there’s nothing special about you in particular, which is much needed, really.

Can’t wait to punch that one out of your system later.

Again and again and again and a—

"Whoa, whoa, you alright?"

You blink. Riff slumps to the ground in front of you, body limp.

Bucky stares at you in concern, his hand still on your shoulder. His lip has split open and there’s the usual bruise already forming on his cheekbone. You can’t help it. Your gaze is drawn down, your breathing shallow.

You screw your eyes shut to snap yourself out of it, but when you open them again, Bucky hasn’t moved an inch.

"Never better," you whisper, and for a split second, you almost believe it yourself.

Liar, liar, liar.

***

At least, you suppose, reality seems considerably less broken these days. No more cracks in the sky.

You get your wake-up call when you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY …

"… FRIDAY?" you say into the silence of your room, your heart pounding wildly. This cannot be happening. Not now.

Not yet.

He got shot again yesterday.

A pleasant jingling sound rings out. "Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N."

You look at the clock on the wall. Ten to eight, just like every morning. "What day is it?"

"Today is Friday, July 4th."

You can taste bile in your mouth despite your relief. There’s an impatient thrum to the symbols around your wrist, like a noose that’s tightening.

What did you expect?

"Rise and shine, McFly! Time to get your ass kicked!"

"Didn’t you set FRIDAY to wake me?" you ask Sam as you’re climbing the stairs, nerves on edge.

He looks at you weirdly. "I did. You’re up, aren’t you?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Didn’t sleep well."

That much, at least, is still true. Full nights of sleep are a long distant memory from before constant back-to-back repetitions. The only time your body shuts off is when you manage to sleep for a little bit in between your astral visits and the mission call.

"I hope you don’t think that’s an excuse," Sam says, bumping your shoulder, and you manage a tired grin.

"You wish."

Today, you let him win, even though your ankle makes an odd crack when you land on the mat. You’ll take care of it later.

"You look like shit."

Grief and relief, you’ve learned, both taste like salt and iron, but the latter is so much easier to swallow.

"That makes two of us," you say, sitting up slowly. "How was your run?"

"Good," Bucky says, putting the cloth away and stretching his fingers out. They catch a ray of sunlight. "What’s wrong with you?"

Not this again.

"Later, okay?" you answer, because that’s not a lie. "Let’s just … not, right now?"

"Alright," he says.

And, oh, you want to tell him again. Because he doesn’t press it. Because you miss having someone to share things with. Because you miss telling him the whole truth. Because you’re scared, and tired, and sick of losing him.

But those are egotistic thoughts, and so you keep them all to yourself and take the towel on the right.

There’s one good thing about this today. You make it to the living room just in time to finally catch a glimpse of Sam’s phone right when it pings with Torres’ message.

I can check it out on Monday if you’d like.

That’s it. No urgency, weirdly proper spelling, not even an exclamation mark.

In other words, you’re not sure what you expected but you’re no closer to answers than before.

"What does it matter?" Strange sighs when you tell him all of this with a frown.

"It matters," you reply, "because if we hadn’t gone on the mission, Bucky wouldn’t have died that first time and none of this would’ve happened."

"So what?" he says. "It’s already done."

"But if I could prevent it—"

"It already happened."

"I can make it not happen."

"You and what powers?" Strange says sharply. "Even if you did that, it wouldn’t stop the loop."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you’ve already seen first-hand that it’s bound to you and your powers, not to whatever you do or don’t do during the day. Karma is a fairy tale for those who don’t want to take responsibility for their actions."

"Do you really still think this is me not taking responsibility?" There’s a green flare that goes through you, hot and seething and making goosebumps crawl down your arms.

Strange smiles at the sight. "Let’s find out."

He extends his arms and slowly opens his fists until orange symbols dance across his shaky fingers. The band around your wrist prickles at the weight of his magic flooding the air.

Strange’s cloak nudges you towards the center of the room and your heart gives a heavy thud. "What, right now?"

"Would you prefer being stuck for a couple weeks more?"

"Of course not it’s just—I don’t feel ready."

"No one ever feels ready until they try."

And maybe it’s because it reminds you of something Steve once said, but it makes you step up, falling into the stance you’ve practiced over and over again. You breathe in deeply and close your eyes.

The pull comes easier now. Your powers have just been resting, nestled somewhere deep inside your bones like glowing embers, waiting for you to call upon them.

When you look at your open palm, the green wisps of your powers have curled up to the size of a ping-pong ball. You take another steadying breath and let it glide to the tips of your fingers, carefully letting it balance itself out for a second before moving your other hand.

"Good," you can hear Strange say quietly.

Slowly, carefully, you let the threads untangle until they’re just about to touch the green band circling around your wrist. You can feel the electric tingle of it, the soft beat of each passing second contained within, and you push past it.

You’ve done this before, so you’re not surprised when you feel the energy drain from your body almost immediately. Up until now, though, it’s just been trial and error, not expecting anything to happen. This time, you have Strange’s magic feeding some of his strength into you as well, and so instead of hesitating, you press on, your heartbeat speeding up.

The band around your wrist does the same.

"Don’t lose your focus." Strange’s voice sounds very far away, almost warped.

Very funny, you might have said, but you’re too busy watching it all unfold.

The whirring inside of your head grows louder as the circlet of time keeps rotating with accelerating speed, faster and faster until your eyes start tearing up and there’s something that looks almost like a crack.

You gasp quietly. At first, you think you might have just imagined it, but then the split starts growing, the symbols growing farther and farther apart as the band itself keeps spinning. Your pulse is beating in your ears. Your wrist feels like it’s being set on fire.

There are voices, then, quiet and fast, like you’re watching a sped up movie, music and noises and chatter and birdsong and a whooshing sound like something flipping right past you. Then, something like distant shots.

I’m getting Bucky out of this, you think as the green band continues rotating until suddenly, there is a shockwave of green light that takes up your entire field of vision.

You close your stinging eyes, keeping your feet firmly planted on the floor as your powers rush through you once more and then, with a shudder, settle down again, exhausted. The glare subsides. Something like a trickle of sweat runs down your noncorporeal neck.

"Did it work?" you ask, your voice rough, not daring to look for yourself. There’s no answer, though. "Doc?"

Slowly, your eyes readjust to the gloomy darkness of your room in the astral realm. The only source of light is the glowing green band continuing to circle around your wrist, the rifts stabilizing again like it’s clicking back into place.

You swear under your breath and turn around to ask what went wrong, but Strange is no longer standing beside you.

You’re all alone.

***

Three, two, one—

"Iced grande extra whip caramel macchia—shit!"

You catch the plastic cup before it drops onto the suit of the business man standing in line in front of you. "Here you go, sir."

He grabs his drink with a grunt and hurries back outside. One of these days, you might ask him why he’s in such a hurry, but it’s not today.

You’ve grown to adore the noise of the pre-noon rush. The cacophany of the whirring machines, the AC and the people is just loud enough to make your head calm down a little. Besides, being alone in a crowd has never been easier than when you know for a fact they are not going to remember you.

The drinks are starting to pile up at the hand-out, and because you feel bad for your colleagues, you start handing them out to people. You’ve been here a lot, after all.

"Tall hazelnut latte for Misty!"

Plus, it helps to keep your mind from wandering back to everything that’s going wrong.

Strange still hasn’t returned.

The astral dimension feels different when you return the day after your experiment, like someone’s been pulling invisible strings to make everything just slightly more disordered and dark.

It’s cold, too. You watch your body shiver in her sleep as you wrap your arms around yourself. The books are still there, shimmering slightly with the magic they contain.

"Doc?" you call out, and the vibrations of this place hum it back at you. There’s no answer.

The book at the top of the pile is still opened to a page, as if it’d just been left a moment ago, and you pick it up. The words glide around like they are looking to jump back into an inkpot, and you have to squint to make out any of them.

Incursion, the section header reads. Result of a contraction in a universe’s timeline. Can cause premature disintegration or collapse of any one reality within the multiverse.

"Just great," you say, slapping the book shut again. "I get it, alright? You can come out now."

But there’s no sound apart from your own heartbeat.

Your noncorporeal head is swimming with pressure as you pass through the closed door and into the hallway. The walls seem larger than usual, the stairs warping ever so slightly underneath your feet so that you can’t look at them for too long without feeling seasick.

Upstairs, the air doesn’t feel quite as heavy. The silence follows you, though, lingering in the grayish morning shadows like the remnants of a nightmare.

Bucky still mumbles in his.

You can’t make out what he is saying, and you wouldn’t have understood the words, anyway, but there’s sweat on his brow again. His fingers are tightly clutching the thin throw blanket like it’s shielding him from whatever he’s seeing in his dreams.

You take a step closer to him, desperate to do something, anything, when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye.

Alpine is perched on top of the bed, complacently tucked into herself on one of the fluffed up white pillows like it’s really her room, not Bucky’s.

And she’s staring right at you.

You take a step to the side, then another. Alpine tilts her head, her large eyes fixed on you. They follow your gestures as you wave your hand.

A quick glance tells you that Bucky is still sleeping. You take a deep breath and conjure up a small dot of bright green light, letting it dance across your fingertips. Alpine uncurls herself in interest, her tail twitching.

"You can see me," you whisper, and the little spec of your power disappears.

The cat meows in disappointment.

Carefully, you move closer to the bed, reaching out your translucent hand until you place it on Alpine’s head.

She rubs against your palm.

You chuckle incredulously, scratching behind her ears. "You little devil."

Alpine seems particularly pleased with herself. She starts purring.

This is simply bizarre, you think as you continue petting her soft fur. You’re expecting a sarcastic comment from behind your shoulder any minute now, but it doesn’t come.

So, you lower yourself down on the floor next to Bucky, the tips of your fingers not quite grazing his arm as you swallow heavily.

And then you wait until he gets up.

It’s possible, you think as you watch him leave and then make yourself wake up too, that Strange is simply messing with you for the hell of it. You don’t like the timing of this, though. Your day still continues on and on and on, like it always does, but it seems just a little too pointed that this would happen right after you had your first hopes of getting out of here in a long time.

It doesn’t help that the reality glitches have decided to return with a vengeance.

Every day is still July 4th. You wake up with a start, you train, you get coffee, you fight over lunch, you take your astral visit, you go on that damn mission. It’s the details that start to get … fuzzy.

In the beginning, every single thing around you was the exact same every single day. Now, though, there are sometimes details that are just wrong. A different mug left on the drying rack. A mess all over the tables in the lab. Weird noises all over the Tower.

You don’t know what to make of any of it, and so in general, you follow Strange’s rule of thumb and simply ignore the things that are wrong one day and then right the next—which, thankfully, is all of them. You just go with it, telling yourself that this is simply reality malfunctioning a little, like a machine that needs oiling.

Weirdly enough, that doesn’t reassure you in the slightest.

But what else can you do?

You lose a few hours here and there, time seemingly speeding up at random sometimes now. One morning, Bucky isn’t in the gym like he usually is, and you work yourself up over it so much you nearly have a panic attack. In the end, you almost crash into him outside of his room, and a rush of reassurance floods through you with such force you can’t even look at him.

That time, Sam is there when Bucky gets shot, and it’s his cry that follows you into the next day. Your hands are clean this time, and somehow that feels worse.

Everyone’s back to their usual stuff again, and that’s that.

Another time, you’ve barely rolled out of bed and into your bathroom—"Rise and shine, McFly!"—when you’re suddenly jolted forwards and you wake up with a start to the sun in your face and FRIDAY blasting The All-American Rejects at full volume. Your stomach feels like it’s still turning, nauseous, as if you’d sat up too fast.

That feeling still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, sticking to the back of your mind like the blood you haven’t even had time to wash off.

The thing that demands most of your attention, though, is the pile of books waiting for you in the astral realm. Since you don’t have any control over the loop itself, you pour all of your energy into trying to understand the theory behind your powers. It’s giving you a constant headache, and it takes a lot longer than you would like to admit, but at least you feel like you’re doing something that’ll last.

Nothing else will.

There’s one last lonely cup sat on the counter next to your own, which signals that the rush is over for now. You can see Lucy wiping her forehead as you wave your goodbye, picking up both drinks on your way out and handing one of them to the guy just hurrying back downstairs.

"Here you go," you say without stopping, glancing at your phone. You haven’t stayed this late before.

"What the—" you hear behind you, just before the doors glide open and you’re greeted by the sound of traffic and a hot breeze of air.

If you’re lucky, you can make it back to your room without anyone seeing you. You’ve moved on to a particularly hefty tome about relativity, and you’d like to—

"Hey! Miss? Hold on a second!"

You look over your shoulder to see the delivery guy has run after you, cup still in his hand. His bike is leaned against a lamp post nearby, his cap dangling off one of the handles.

You found out a couple of weeks ago that he takes his break just after dropping off your order, but you don’t usually make eye contact anymore.

Now, he holds out his cup accusingly. "That’s my drink."

You smile. "Good for you."

"No. No, that’s not—I mean—how did you know it was my drink?"

And because nothing really matters and you really want to go home, you say, "It has your name on it, doesn’t it?"

You expect him to look at you with wide eyes, just like people normally do when you know things you’re not supposed to. His mouth will drop open, speechless, his frown will deepen, and you can wink at him and continue on your way so he can spend the next couple of hours wondering what just happened.

The cup falls out of his hand, but somehow he manages to catch it before it hits the sidewalk. When he looks up at you again, and his expression is unlike anything you’ve seen coming.

"But that’s not …" he says quietly. "Do you remember me?"

And then it’s you who’s speechless, because the shock on Peter Parker’s face is more than you bargained for.

*****

"Honestly, I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this," you said quietly, looking over the rim of your glass at the crowd.

"You complaining?" you heard Sam’s voice say over the little earpiece you were wearing.

"Not at all."

Apparently, people connected to terrorist organizations threw incredibly fancy parties.

You hadn’t felt this glamorous in a while, if ever, dressed up to the nines in a dark green jumpsuit with an incredibly flattering cut that you’d never had a reason to wear before. Despite your initial doubts about this whole thing, you felt great, for the first time in way too long.

"Are you gonna move any time soon?"

Well. Mostly.

At least Barnes cleaned up nice, you supposed; it almost made up for his grouchy demeanor.

With a sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and got back to work. You let the crowd swallow you up, seemingly on your way to the restrooms, and then you stopped it all to slip upstairs unnoticed by prying eyes and cameras.

You didn’t hold it for very long; you had to rattle some doors, after all, and despite your espresso martini, it was still hard to tell if you could manage several redos back to back. After all, you’d only been back in the game for a couple of weeks.

It took you a few tries to find the right office, and locating the files was comparatively easy with what you already had access to. There it was, proof that ULTIMATUM had managed to secure most of the Flag Smashers’ previous supporters as well as some high brow weapon dealers.

While you copied everything onto a flashdrive, your eyes caught one of the designs. You frowned.

Even though you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, exactly, something about it seemed just slightly too highbrow for an organization of the international bad egg committee that was supposedly still mostly underground. Your gaze started drifting through the rest of the office, noting the usual boring books and glass awards in the bookshelves on the far wall. You pulled open one of the desk drawers.

"You almost done in here?"

"Fuck!" You slammed the drawer shut again, getting your pinkie stuck in the process. "Damnit, where did you come from?"

Bucky pointed over his shoulder.

"Fuck me," you murmured, your eyes stinging at the pain.

Bucky looked nonplussed. "Can’t you just undo it?"

"Great input, thank you." The flashdrive beeped softly and you shut everything down again. At least you were definitely sober now. "What are you, anyway, my babysitter?"

"Wouldn’t have to be if you could check in on time," he answered, checking the corridors, then nodding for you to follow.

"Time’s a social construct," you murmured, but followed him, the flashdrive hidden in your fist.

You didn’t even make it to the staircase.

"Didn’t I tell you?" a voice said right before several triggers clicked and you both froze. "I knew I’d recognized that arm. And who do you have with you here, Winter Soldier?"

No one, you thought, and then you yanked time backwards so forcefully you stumbled into the desk, your heart still racing. The copy sat at 57%.

You felt almost seasick with the rewind, but there wasn’t any time. "Keep going upstairs," you said into your earpiece.

"What?" Bucky said.

"I’m fine. Don’t come get me. Just keep going," you gritted through your teeth, trying to calm your breaths. 70%.

"Exit plan C, then," Sam said.

Bucky didn’t answer. You looked at your hands. There was a slight tremor to them, but nothing too bad. If you could get the nausea under control, you could probably make it past the cameras one more time.

You should’ve eaten more.

As soon as the flashdrive was done, you ripped it out and forced everything to a halt again. Your palms were sweaty as you hurried out of the office and in the direction of the staircase, your lungs burning. This didn’t feel like a good sign.

You stumbled over your damn heels and the noise returned for that moment you lost your concentration.

Not good enough.

Sweat pearled on your forehead as you and the universe held your breath again. You could feel your hold slipping with every second that wasn’t allowed to pass. Time was impatient with you.

A small crowd had assembled at the bottom of the stairs. As you closed in on them, you felt a jolt go through you and suddenly found yourself surrounded by people as time attempted to right itself again. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm so hard you could feel yourself draw blood.

It went quiet again and you moved through them, almost blindly. Everything seemed to be spinning.

Behind your shoulder, you could hear several people talking, interrupted only by the world stopping around them every now and then.

"—d’you—see that—"

"—could’ve—sworn there—”

And with time stumbling and flailing around in confusion, you made it out of the building and into the waiting cab.

chapter seven

thank you for reading!! you can follow my library blog @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications 💚

[adventures-written]

;; So some IRL stuff is happening that might make me a bit scarce or focused on smaller things for a bit. I did finish all of my drafts and queued them up. I have some ask prompts to tackle, but I am not sure if I will manage to get through them before my activity comes and goes. 

That being said, please feel free to send in prompts or poke the muses as those will be the things that have my attention the most when I can get on.

All my drafts are in the queue and should post 4 drafts per day and then 4 other items (art, prompts, etc). I queued 8 things/day for the next week or so in total. I didn’t want to just spam with my drafts and I also wanted to ensure I had some spacing between their postings. They are in no particular order so I apologize if something you wanted is towards the end of the queue.

I can’t discuss what’s going on, but don’t worry I’m safe. Just super stressed out.

Hoping to try and be on either way, but this is a just in case measure I decided to take.

As always, have fun and poke the beans if you so wish! <3

I will probably schedule this post for the day crowed too.

[pinkfemgurl]

You groaned to yourself after reading that text message. This meant you had to go about your day caged and with her pink satin panties on under your clothes.

But naïve and hopeful enough to finally get unlocked, you sent pictures of yourself every hour on the dot showing off your entire body caged with the her panties on. Sometimes she asked for your face to be in it just to tease you and other times she would ask for different poses.

You check the clock and notice that she should have been home 20 minutes ago. Surely she's just stuck in traffic right?

Three more hours go by and you've been restlessly pacing at the front door waiting for her to get home. She wouldn't reply to any of your texts except either to make you do a new pose or to reply to the picture you sent her every hour.

You swing your head towards the front door the moment you hear it open and see your girlfriend smiling while holding a few bags in her hands. "Sorry honey, I had to stop by the mall to get a few things on the way back home. I hope I didn't make you wait too long?~" She teases you, knowing you were in agony the entire time.

You rush up to her no longer caring about how long you waited because now you can get unlocked and finally be able to cum again.

"Hold on honey, before I unlock you can you do something else for me? I know I've made you do something embarrassing but it just made me so wet at work all day that I couldn't get anything done!" You don't notice the malice in her words as you nod your head to this unknown task.

"Here, I want you to put this on to match your panties, I spent so long to find something that would look perfect on you!"

She hands you a bag as you take out the clothing to put on. You see that its a matching pink bra and a pink long sleeve tutu style dress, all in the same shade of pink as the panties that she made you wear all day.

You can't wear such a thing! You tell her.

But she changes your mind soon after, "I want to be fucked so badly while you wear all this babe! I'll tease you like I did last night, but only for a few minutes," she reassures you with a lie, "and then I'll unlock the cage and let you pound me until you've released your entire load in all of my holes!~ Seeing you in my panties all day made so unimaginably horny this would just make me go over the top! I'm sure that would make up for the entire day and a half of being unable to cum right?~" She gives you a pouty look, knowing she put you through pleasurable torture, you normally cum at least once everyday so not being able to has made your brain fuzzy this entire time.

You finally relent and change into the entire outfit, your girlfriend helping you put on everything the entire time. After hearing that you will be able to fuck her relentlessly you've gotten so horny that you begin leaking into the pink panties again.

She lead you to the bedroom and tied you up on the bed once again. This time it was a little different, instead of just having your arms tied behind your back and your ankles tied together, she went the extra step and began tying every inch of your body in a way that seemed to accentuate the pink outfit and the cage.

"There we go! All done! And I just got to say wow. I can't believe you actually let me do all of this to you!" She says cheerfully while looking at you hungrily.

Click

She snaps a picture of you all tied up, “Who would have thought that it would be this easy to feminize you this far so quickly?! I guess my friends were right when they said that the hardest thing was to get you in a chastity cage but then the rest would be easy!” She laughs to herself. "I mean getting you caged wasn't even that hard either."

She pats your pink caged clitty and no longer needing to hide her true intentions behind an innocent face, she can't stop smiling at your predicament.

"You know babe... I didn't just buy these clothes, I'm sure you saw the dozen other bags I brought home right? Those will be your new clothes! I made sure to only shop in the lingerie sections and sex stores of the countless malls I stopped by after work to give you an even higher quality of clothes compared to my own wardrobe!" She says proudly.

Suddenly she moves close to your ear and in a low but demanding voice whispers, "And if you ever... want a chance of getting out of that cage, you'll have to do everything I say from now on, or I'm going to send these dozens of photos of you in my panties as well as you all tied up like this to your friends and family through your own phone! I'm sure you especially remember the photos with your face in them! Wouldn't that be such a relationship crusher? She teases.

"Now be a good sissy doll and let me see you leak into your pathetic little clitty in this new outfit! I want to record every new milestone you achieve in this new relationship we'll be sharing together honey~"

Hope you enjoyed this super long story made by @pinkfemgurl!

[thatnonameuser]

A Wonderland of Yanderes

Intro, Part 1, Part 2 here

This place is crazy.

Not the 'magic is real; people can be part animal or fae here or talking animal' crazy.

But the 'this whole world is full of people who are actually ok with kidnapping and murder if you say it was in the name of love' crazy. And now you're stuck here. Even worse, you're a darling, if Crowley is to be believed, someone most of the world sees as a dainty little flower, prey, or some equally dehumanizing and infantilizing. 

All of this is terrifying and worrying, and every other word in the book can't come close to defining what you are feeling. 

What the hell are you going to do? Or, where can you go if someone tries to take you? 

Worst of all, Ace and Deuce might be……be ‘obsessed with you’. You haven’t even known them for a week; how can they be in love with you? 

Would they do what Crewel said and try to kill each other if they both are obsessed with you? 

What if there are more people—more people who are obsessed with you? 

What if what Crowley said was right—that you were here to be someone’s darling? 

What would they do to you?

What would Ace and Deuce do to you?

If they hurt you, what are you going to do until Crowley gets you home?

If he even bothers?

What about everyone else?! This school is full of crazies who saw you when you arrived, a magicless human from an unknown world. 

What if you infatuated one of them unknowingly and they planned on locking you in a basement in the middle of nowhere for the rest of your life?!

What the hell are you going to do now?

You were starting to get used to being afraid, and this was just day one. The day of discovery. You want to run, run to the farthest place in this twisted wonderland, and hide there until you have a way back, a safe place where no one can find you, but.....

“Henchman!” Grim launches himself into your arms. "Henchman, you left me behind!" he complains, as you crack a small smile. 

“Sorry, I had to take care of something.” You scratch behind one of his ears in apology, and he purrs.

“NO! The Great Grim is not a house cat, Henchman! Let the Great Grim go before he strikes you!" You laugh, and a sense of peace comes to you with Grim's wriggling in your embrace. 

...but you had to return, to come back to who you once hoped to call your friends. Every step back here was like a step closer to the gallows. But regardless, you’re stuck here. And being here means you’ll be closer to finding a way back home. All you can do is watch your back and hope for the best.

Besides, 

It's scary to have to survive here, but to survive....You’ll need to be smart.

“Hey! Grim! Where the hell did you—_______!” And then the bubble of peace in your arms pops. Running towards you are Ace and Deuce. The people you hoped to call your friends, the friends who might be considering locking you away and calling it love at this very moment. 

It’s only now that the Headmaster’s words sink in. Because as they see you, you can see the light in their eyes brighten. Is it love? Or Obsession?

"Hey Prefect, where'd you run off-”

You can't be sure, because that light immediately turns into darkness when they see the discomfort that is probably visible on your face.

“Whoa. What happened to you?" Ace asks as you wipe the cold sweat from your face. You can only hope you don't look as scared as you feel.

"Perfect, are you ok?" Deuce grabs your arm in an attempt to comfort, but that gentle squeeze turns into a vice-tight grip as his expression darkens. "Did someone hurt you?" His grip tightens around your arm so tight, you can feel the bruise forming already.

Your heart palpitates in your chest as you force on a small smile. "I-I'm fine, just needed to talk to Headmaster Crowley about me renovating Ramshackle. Needed to do it before he tried to head in for the day." You lie, clean through your teeth, as you attempt to subtly dislodge your forearm from Deuce’s grip.

The way Ace is looking at you makes you shake. "Why didn't you wait for us? We would have gone with you."

Because as soon as you managed to lose them in the crowd of departing students, you ran straight to the second-closest bathroom and spent the next five minutes throwing up in complete and utter disgust before you managed to pull yourself together in time to run to Crowley's office. With how everyone looked at you when you gasped, you didn't Ace or Deuce, especially to think that you were off.

That you weren't like them.

"Just wanted to make sure I got there in time." You cut yourself off with a hiss, as Deuce's grip gets so tight that you can feel the numbing in your fingers. "Deuce. You're hurting me."

Ace practically rips Deuce's arm off of yours before he can even let you go. "Let her go, Juice!"

"I was about to!"

"No, you weren't!" Deuce goes silent as he yanks Ace up by his collar, and you can feel the rage and bloodlust from here.

"Both of you stop!" All it takes is one of your hands on each of their shoulders to pacify their rage. The look they gave you when they turned to you is so.......fond. As if they weren't just arguing and threatening one another two seconds ago. You suppress a shudder. “I’m ok, Ace. It’s fine. And Deuce, it just surprised me, that’s all.”

They let each other go at your words, muttering small apologies to each other.

It's been a week since you met them, and they're already this attached?

"Hey,______?"

"Hmm?" You can't just wait around to get out of here. You might need to do this on your own.

Ace slings his arm over your shoulder. "Wanna come back to our dorm and hang out?"

Deuce brushes Ace's arm off with a glare before continuing their offer. "Yeah, Prefect, you haven't been there yet, so if you want, we could give you a tour."

And let you lock me in a hidden room? Yeah, right.

“Actually, I’m going to the library.”

So far you have one advantage: you're taking classes that teach the techniques about how to do all of this and not get caught. So for now, you can use that to evade capture until Crowley gets you home. If he even bothers.

The library is another; anything helpful might save your life in the long run. Or if Crowley falls through, you could find your own way back. Still, if you’re here, you need to know how to beat your ‘loving’ enemy.

“If you want, I can go with you, Prefect.” Deuce’s smile is affectionate, but it makes you feel sick inside.

“You don’t have to-”

"Then I'm going to!" Ace interjects, returning the earlier glare back to Deuce.

You’ve seen them argue about spending time with you earlier this week, but now you see it in a different light: “Guys, if you’re going to keep arguing, I’ll just go alone.”

“But Prefect-”

“I just want to read some books and learn about this world. I’ll hang out with guys tomorrow, I promise.” The two exchange a glance, hesitating as if they want to object to your decision. Are they mulling over whatever lesson they were taught by their parents about controlling you or something?

“Sure, I guess.”

“Sure, Prefect.”

“Thanks… I’ll see you later. You wave goodbye before turning past one of the hallway corridors, and as soon as you're out of sight, you sprint away as fast as you can.

Grim squirms in your hold, "Henchman, I don't want to go to the library!"

"I'll give you an extra can of tuna at dinner later."

"Deal!"

So that's what you did; you ran all the way to the library. And pulled every book of the walls to find out everything about the Yanderes you're surrounded by.

If they had a class about understanding and controlling you, it's only fair you learn about how to outsmart and outplay them.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Can you please do a fic where the reader and George Clarke absolutely hate each other they always argue but she’s best friends with Chris, and she goes on a night out her girl friends leave her and she’s drunk and scared men are hitting on her hard so decides to ring Chris but he’s asleep and George answers his phone and comes picks you up it ends up them two arguing but also something where they hook up (wether that’s the same night or different) please??

the ending to this feels almost rushed but i know i've promised this a few times... let me know what you think!

"come on."

the words come out of yn's mouth as a low grumble but it was loud enough to catch the attention of the guy stood beside her in the pub's smoking area. the time on her phone said it was quarter to two in the morning, the street on the otherside of the road was empty and baron of people walking passed, and the pub was becoming less and less busy as people got into their taxi's and uber's and went off home to nurse hangovers in the morning.

yet, here she was.

stuck in the middle of the london, all by herself and in a vulnerable state, as she tried to call the one guy she wanted to see in her moment of need. her best friend. who was, no doubt, asleep because he was sensible and chose to stay in that night rather than spending it getting drunk.

"everything okay?"

"yeah," she mumbles it lowly to show her disinterest, her eyes staring at the screen of the phone in her hand as she scrolled through all of her contacts to find christopher dixon's home number because calling him mobile number hadn't worked, "i just can't get hold of a friend, i kind of need him right now."

"can i be of any assistance?"

"no," she responds bluntly and she could feel the way he was taken aback by her abrupt answer, "i just want to go home. my friends have left me here by myself, i have no way of getting home and no one wants to answer their phones to help me."

"it is almost two in the morning."

"yeah, i know that," she scoffs it out sarcastically and she rolls her eyes, landing on the home landline to chris' flat, "no offence but i don't need any company right now. cheers but-"

"not just gon'a leave a pretty girl in a pub by herself," the guy says and, for the first time since she heard his voice, she looked at him - dressed in jeans that were too tight for his legs and a shirt that he definitely chose in hopes to pick up girls with the way he had his muscles on show - as she held her phone to her ear and listened to the dial tone beep through the speaker as the other end rung through the flat, "i'll take you home."

"yeah... no thanks," she shook her head, her face contorted with a look of pure disgust at the repulsive invitation he was insinuating; what had started out as a girl's night was always going to end as a girl's night, not leaving with a bloke she had never met before and waking up in an unknown bed the next morning. "We all know how that invitation ends and i'm not after that, thanks."

"oh, come on-"

"no," she shook her head and took a step to the side, furthering herself away from him to give him a hint of how she was over being nice to him and how she was over the conversation that she never wanted to start. her attention turning towards the phone that was warm against her ear. "answer the phone, idiot."

as she was about to give up and press the red button in the bottom corner, coming to terms with the fact that he was most probably asleep and completely dead to the world, the sound of someone picking up brought some comfort to her racing mind.

"hello?"

"chris, it's yn."

"newsflash, it's george. you know, one of the other guys who lives in this flat and got rudely woken up by this call."

"oh."

she gulps thickly, the lump in her throat aching, and she really wished she hadn't bothered. it wasn't that she hated goerge; it was the exact opposite... he hated her, for some reason, and she had no idea why. she wanted nothing more to be friends with him, making it three out of three successful friendships that she'd made through chris... except he was having none of it.

"i'm so sorry, i just-"

"i told you, babe, you can always come back with me."

yn's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to hold back the upset tears that were threatening to spill from how scared she was, the interruption making her lose her train of thought, and it was only when george spoke down the line that she felt a little intimidated.

"who's that?"

"just some guy-"

"is he bothering you?"

yn sighs and takes a glance out of the corner of her eye, checking to see if the guy was still standing close to her, already knowing that he was listening intently to her conversation and hadn't any plans to go elsewhere.

"yeah, a little," she responds and, on the other end of the line, she could hear him rustling around and moving in a pace that she could tell was quick and in a rush, "i just, my friends left me alone in this pub round the corner from waterloo and i'm all by myself right now and the pub is closing and i'm out the front and he's just here and i don't know who he is and-"

"okay, alright. i'm coming to get you, okay?"

"i don't want to be a bother, george," she heard him grunt back in response to her and she could feel a tear slip down her cheek, "i was trying to get hold of chris but-"

"chris would rip my bollocks off if he knew i didn't help you when you called. especially when you're on your own in london, drunk, with some creep standing with you."

"but-"

"i'm leaving now, okay? send me your location and i'll be there as soon as i can, yeah?"

she couldn't tell if it was the happiness to know she was being looked after or whether it was the scared feeling that had overcome her - or both - but she struggled to keep back the tears that were burning her eyes.

"thank you, george."

it came out as a wet sob and she didn't care if anyone who looked at her and thought she was too drunk and weird. her previous problem of being hit on by someone she'd never met before, the same guy, didn't seem to want to leave her as he slowly sipped on the pint he had poured into a plastic cup.

"just stay safe until i get there, okay? go find a bouncer or someone from the staff and just say your taxi is on its way. stay away from the guy who's bothering you and keep to places where people can see you."

-

"yn?"

her head snapped up from where she was staring at her phone, to see george walking quickly down the street , his hoodie pulled over his head and he'd matched loose cotton shorts with it yet skipped out on pulling socks on as he opted for sliders, because he was in a rush to leave the house and had no time for trainers.

"yn. that's such a pretty name," she heard the guy say but she was no longer interested in anything he had to say, moving from her place on the bench she had chosen to wait upon and grasping the strap of her bag upon her shoulder, "oh, babe, it's a shame you chose him over me. he's got nothing to give you."

george felt his fists curl up under his sleeves yet he chose to not make the situation worse for her.

"when a girl says no to you, she means no," george calls out over to him, staring with a look of dark anger behind his eyes, "back off and maybe try being less of a creep, lurking around drunk girls, and you might just get lucky."

"george-"

"come on," he grabs her hand and tugs her away from the direction of the pub, desperate to get her away from the stare of the guy that was bothering her, "why the hell didn't you call any of us sooner? you were there for how long, by yourself, before you realised?"

"not long," she admits, "i'd only just realised as they were kicking us all out. i went to look for them at the booth we were in and they'd left."

"how many times have we told you to not hang around with those girls? they've been nothing but trouble for you," he reminds her and she rolls her eyes, legs burning from trying to keep up with his long strides back to the tube station, "what kind of friends do that to their other friends? bad friends, yn. they're not your friends-"

"i'm not a child, george," she interrupts him and pulls her hand free from his grip, standing still in the middle of the pavement as he came to a halt from her sudden movement, "don't speak me to like i am one."

he sighs heavily and brings his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips before dropping his arms back down to his sides, watching as she swayed to and fro from the way her world must have been spinning from alcohol.

"alright," he held his hands up in surrender, "i'm sorry."

"you should be," she retorts, "stupid."

"don't backchat me like a teenager and i won't speak to you like a child," he insists and turns on his heels, wanting to hop back into the warmth of the underground station and get back home as soon as possible, "now come on, i want to go home."

"my home. take me home and then go home yourself."

"no, my home," george calls back, hearing her scuffing behind as she tried to keep up with his pace so she wasn't left behind and out of his sight, "i'm gonna look after you, you can have my bed, and you can talk to chris in the morning because he's gonna have some choice words for those girls."

"i don't need you to make me feel worse."

"i'm not trying to make you feel worse."

"you are."

"yn," george sighs, "i'm too tired to argue with you, okay? can we just, we just need to get on the tube, do a couple of stops, then we're home. i'll argue with you tomorrow."

"i don't want to argue with you anymore," she frowns, "i just want to be friends with you. i don't like it when you're angry all the time with me. i've done nothing to you to make you treat me so badly."

"we are friends, idiot."

"no, we aren't. you're always moaning at me, you never say anything nice to me. i'm surprised you even came to get me," yn says, "only you, george. every other one of chris' friend's like me... television is my favourite but you-"

"i do like you, yn," george sighs heavily, "but this is a conversation we don't need to be having in the middle of the road, outside the train station."

"i want to have this conversation-"

"no," george shakes his head, "it's a conversation for when you're sober and not full of whatever alcohol you've ended up spilling down yourself."

he stares at her for a moment and she squints her eyes back at him, in a feigned annoyed look, feeling the chill in the air and the alcohol mixing in her system and as well as her belly. and she couldn't bring it in her to argue even more.

"fine."

-

yn stumbles through the front door and into the darkness of the flat belonging to the boys and she was thankful she wore flats opposed to the heels that were her second choice shoe for the night. a click of the lock filled the quiet as george closed the front door behind him, keys jingling with his keyrings as he dropped them in the bowl in the entryway, shuffling further into the room. as she slid her shoes off, not knowing where she was leaving them, a lamp flicked on and she took in the living space around her.

"you could have taken me home."

"not a chance," george grumbles lowly, shrugging off the over-layer he chose to brave the night air and draped it over the back of the sofa in the middle of the room, "i think chris would have murdered me in my sleep."

"i wanted to go home."

"and i wanted to get a full night's sleep but here we are," george shrugs his shoulders and she folds her arms across her chest, like a child in a tantrum, "you can have my bed, i'll sleep on the sofa."

"george-"

"please don't argue with me, okay? i'm giving you my bed, don't make me change my mind," he warns her and the interruption was enough for her to close her lips and forget about what she was about to say to him, "i don't know what you think is happening between us but i do care about you, okay?"

she could hear her heartbeat pounding behind her chest in the quiet of the room and she looks at him, properly, for the first time that evening.

"you don't show it."

"i don't know how," he scoffs and it's more aimed at himself than at her, his feet take him across the stretch of empty space before he stands before her, "you're chris' best friend... i'm not going to be the one to step in the way and ruin that."

"you could have treated me better. spoke to me nicer. actually made me feel like you wanted me around."

"you're not listening, are you? i like you, you idiot."

for the first time that night, she couldn't find the words to come back to his response. she stared at him, dumbfounded, with wide eyes that couldn't tear away from the way he was walking towards her. and she didn't realise her mouth had gaped open until his hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb pushing her the bottom of her jaw, lingering his touch that had her tilting her head into his palm.

"but-"

"you've always got something to say, haven't you?" and if he didn't have a smile twitching at his lips, hidden beneath the growing facial hair that grew from his upper lip, she would have taken offence to his words, "i wanted this conversation with a sober yn. not slightly drunk, in a mood because her friends abandoned her, in the middle of the night and stood in the middle of my living room."

"you-" she gulps back the lump in her throat and he smiles softly, "i don't believe you."

"are you trying to push my buttons?" he asks her, the gap between them slowly closing, "because it's working."

"and what happens if i push the last one?"

"i think you know already," he says it so softly yet it held so much behind it and yn couldn't stop the tingle in her belly that brought goosebumps to the surface of her skin and the way his breath washed over her face, warm and minted from when he'd done his nightly routine before bed, had her weak at the knees, "go on, push it."

her eyes dart between his, that stayed focused on her face, and the way his lips looked so inviting and soft. teasing and taunting her. her tongue slipping out between her lips and licking her own because they felt dry.

"what if chris finds out?"

"you're a grown woman," george mumbles softly, "i think you can make your own decisions, huh?"

it's the first time she feels a tremble in her hands as she brings her arms up, resting her forearms on his shoulders and letting her fingers comb through the hairs at the back of his head. soft strands so gentle against her cold hands.

and george seizes the opportunity to test the waters of the situation by pressing his lips against hers in a peck, quick and messy, before he pulled away and waited for a response... a verbal response... yet it never came.

because it came in the form of a reciprocated kiss, fingers digging deeper into his hair as she pulled him closer, his arms wrapping around her waist as he brought her into his chest and held her tight in a hold that made her melt. he wanted her to have control, on her own terms, to test herself out in what was happening.

"chris is going to kill me," she says softly, "you guys were off limits."

"he'll get over it."

yn laughs softly and drops her forehead to his chest, his arms still tight around her waist and just couldn't let go of her, and there was a comfortable silence that swallowed the two of them. the previous moments playing on their minds.

"fancy sharing that bed tonight?"

he grins at her question, hearing the hidden desire in her voice, and presses a kiss to her head.

"i'd love that." x

[redroseworks]

Shinazugawa-sensei is homophobic

(I wrote this to be silly so it's just a quick thing with little substance. Set in the Kimetsu academy au)

Genya awkwardly looked up from his homework at Sanemi. He was waiting for Sanemi to be finished with some paperwork before they went home. “I'm dating someone.” He said.

Sanemi glared at him over his paperwork. “So?”

“His name is Tanjiro Kamado.” Genya said. He knew his brother didn't like Tanjiro but his brother didn't like most people.

Sanemi sneered. “I don't want to hear about that. That's fucking gross. Keep that shit to yourself.”

Genya rolled his eyes. He knew that Sanemi wouldn't be happy to hear he was dating Tanjiro. “You're such a homophobic jerk.” Genya said, jokingly.

“Yeah. I hate gay people. They're shitty.” Sanemi said, rolling his eyes. “And I don't want to hear about your stupid so called boyfriend.”

Genya laughed quietly. Sanemi was gay himself and definitely not homophobic. “So you hate me!? Your own brother!?” He asked with an overly dramatic tone.

“Yes. Get back to doing your damn homework you stupid faggot.”

Unknown to the two eldest Shinazugawa brothers, a student (*cough* Murata *cough*) had been coming by to ask Sanemi a math related question and had overheard the two brothers' conversation.

And now said student was not a gossip but he did tell a few people about how he felt bad for Genya and word spread over the weekend that Genya was stuck with a homophobic older brother.

Granted, most people already felt bad for Genya because he was related to Sanemi. But to know that Sanemi was homophobic and Genya was gay? It was… well surprising? People weren't sure but it was fun to gossip.

On Monday, Genya couldn't help but to feel like people were looking at him. He liked to believe it was because he was holding Tanjiro's hand that morning but he had been doing it everyday last week.

Plus they were looking at him like they felt bad. It was like the archery award thing again.

By lunch it was Zenitsu who finally revealed what was going on.

“Genya, I knew your brother was a jerk but I never thought he would be homophobic.” Zenitsu said as he sat down next to Inosuke.

“Huh?” Genya looked at him, confused.

“What are you talking about?” Tanjiro asked.

“Why is the evil math teacher scared of homes?” Inosuke commented.

“I guess someone overheard your brother being homophobic towards you for dating Tanjiro. That he even called you the f word. The whole school's been talking about it.” Zenitsu explained as he started to eat.

Genya's face paled. “The whole school..?”

Zenitsu nodded. “Yeah. Did he really call you the f word?” He asked.

“Uh…” Genya was quiet for a moment. “Well… yes? But that's normal.”

“Genya, your brother shouldn't be calling you that.” Tanjiro huffed. “That's not okay!”

“For real. I know he's dick but I think there's a line.” Zenitsu agreed.

Genya sighed. “He's not homophobic. He's literally gay.”

“You can be gay and homophobic though. I've seen the memes.” Inosuke said.

Genya snorted. “But he's not. Someone probably overheard us being us and assumed the worst.”

“Oh. Good.” Tanjiro said with a smile. “I would have fought Shinazugawa-sensei if he was actually homophobic. And now that you mention it, I'm not surprised he's queer.”

Genya blushed. “Uh…” He had no idea how to respond to such a weirdly sweet and scary comment.

“Stop being gay right in front of my salad.” Zenitsu said. “...wait Shinazugawa-sensei is gay?? I thought him and Kocho-sensei were a thing?!”

“No. Well, they dated when they were in high school for like a month. I have the trauma of seeing them in the middle of fooling around one day when my mom and I took my younger siblings to the park and I forgot my phone…” Genya blushed at the memory. It was so embarrassing to think about. Him and Sanemi shared a room at the time so that was where his phone had been.

Zenitsu's face perked up. “You've seen Kocho-sensei's..”

“Finish that sentence and I'll kill you, Agatsuma.” Shinobu appeared almost as if out of nowhere.

Zenitsu nodded silently.

Shinobu looked at Genya with a smirk. “Heard that your brother was homophobic. Makes sense that he hates himself.” She said.

Genya laughed. “Wasn't it your sister that caused him to turn gay?” He sneered. Were he and Shinobu friends? Maybe. Did they share the bond of being witnesses to the weirdness that was Sanemi dating Kanae? Yes.

“At least she never fooled around with Tomika-sensei.” Shinobu said.

Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke all looked shocked by the words out of their upper classmate's mouth.

Genya nodded. “Fair enough. You got him there.”

“Tomioka and Shinazugawa..?” Tanjiro questioned.

Genya smiled at Tanjiro. “You'd find out sooner or later but yeah. They've been dating for about a year now.”

“Huh.” Tanjiro said, clearly processing it.

“Yet they still make out in empty classrooms like teenagers. Too bad someone told Murata to take some papers to Kocho-sensei in that very room.” Shinobu said with a chuckle.

“You're evil. When Sanemi finds out you're behind it, you're dead.” Genya said.

Shinobu shrugged. “Oh I doubt he'd be able to catch me.”

[stsgluver]

TAKE ME BACK TO BEFORE – gojo satoru

summary. based off of this drabble. satoru loses his best friend, and, in the process, loses you too. PART ONE OF FOUR.

wc. 4.4k

tags. ANGST <33333 some fluff at the beginning, slight mention of some suggestive activities, cliff-hanger ending (neither happy nor sad), might be swearing I can't remember and it's 12am I'm too tired to check, may include spelling mistakes

a/n. sorry some bits are a little rushed but I wanted the focus on yn and gojo without making it too long!! hope you enjoy (unknown whether i'll pt2 it, might just leave it to the imagination)!!!! this is also my first long long piece of writing so i’m happy to accept any criticism xxx

chapped lips kiss along the back of your neck, soft hair tickling with each movement. you can feel the heat of the sun that peaks though the half closed curtains – satoru’s fault since the additional two seconds that would take is two seconds that he’s not with you and god forbid he’s not wrapped around you like a koala.

like right now.

you daren’t not open your eyes yet, enjoying the peace of being gently pampered by your boyfriend’s love as his kisses move down your shoulders and his fingers draw circles on your thighs and tummy. one leg is slotted neatly between yours and for a few blissful moments, he’s not the strongest sorcerer alive and you’re not his semi-grade one girlfriend that is constantly scrutinised for not coming from a well known clan. in their eyes you weren’t worthy to be in bed with a special grade. not that that had ever stopped you or gojou.

“i know you’re awake,” satoru murmurs against your skin, lifting his head up so that it rests against your shoulder. his voice is laced with sleep and you’re sure he hasn’t been awake much longer than you. he squeezes you impossibly closer, his bare chest against your back and your lips tilt up in a smile at the fact you’re the only one who will ever be this close to him. able to touch and kiss every inch of his skin with no infinity acting as a barrier.

after the fight with toji, gojo had reached a state of enlightenment. he declared himself the honoured one and suddenly you, suguru and gojo were no longer doing missions together. in fact, gojo would practically drop off the face of the earth for several weeks at a time as the higher ups took advantage of his new-found skills. you and suguru coped but it had changed the dynamic of your relationships entirely so these mornings were easily your favourite time of the day.

“i preferred it when you didnt speak,” you lie, twisting round in his arms to face him. it was becoming more of a rarity to see your boyfriend without his glasses on. as his power grew stronger, the consequential headaches were only worsening and shoko could only counter his cursed technique so much. “more kisses please.” squeezing your eyes shut and puckering your lips in an over-exaggerated manner, you hear satoru snicker lightly but he complies nonetheless.

one hand dips under your head to lightly grasp ahold of your hair, ensuring you stay tightly against him. the other reaches down, skimming past your shorts to grasp your thigh and pull it over his leg so your body is pressed against his. his hands are so gentle but they leave a fiery heat in their path that makes you wish you weren’t at the jujutsu high dorms with your friends either side of you.

“so demanding,” he mocks, his voice muffled against your lips. you’re almost embarrassed by how hard you’re trying to swallow the whine that’s stuck at the back of your throat. and satoru knows, he always knows, and he pinches your thigh as your hand wraps around his neck.

you bite down on his lip and squeeze your hand and he’s gasping and you’re kissing him harder until, finally, oxygen catches up to you both. satoru keeps you close, your foreheads pressed against one anothers as your quickened breaths mingle.

it’s a few more seconds till your heart has calmed down enough to hear yourself think and you open your eyes to see his ocean blue ones already staring at you. if your cheeks weren’t already red from your small make out, they definitely were now under his powerful gaze, so full of love and adoration.

satoru sees you so clearly, you look like an angel to him. sure, he has a strip from a photo booth of the two of you folded in the back pocket of his uniform at all times and hundreds of pictures of you on his phone to look back at when he’s away from you. but seeing you like this so up close is an image he wants branded into his brain permanently.

“we don’t have class today,” satoru says suggestively, drawing dangerously high circles that have you shuddering in anticipation.

your thumb brushes against his chin, tickled against the slight stubble that he’d shave off once you got out of bed. “what are you proposing?” you hum with a grin.

satoru enunciates each of his words with a wet kiss to your lips, cheek, nose and jaw, “you, me and a whole morning of s-” 

there’s a sharp knock against the door and satoru rolls over onto his side of the bed, letting out a very loud and very mature whine. you giggle quietly and press one last kiss to the crook of his neck, telling him to go speak to whoever it is. with a grumbled who the fuck is cockblocking the honoured one, satoru complies and slides off of the bed to find his pyjama pants to at least look half decent.

you watch him lazily, and you think you could fall back asleep if it weren’t for the fact your body is buzzing from the simple make out session. it was scary to admit the power satoru had over you.

“i’m trying to spend quality time with my girlfriend kento, this better be good,” satoru whines as he slides open his dorm door. you could almost picture nanami’s disgusted expression at the half-clothed, six-foot-something sorcerer who, quite frankly, was acting like a child.

“i need your help exorcising a few grade threes that were spotted,” nanami admits in a monotone voice but your heart instantly sinks.

“you’re grade two-” satoru tries to argue but you hiss gojo and the simple use of his family name has him reconsidering. clicking his tongue, he nods once at nanami with a more serious expression than is usually worn by the special grade, “give me five and i’ll be there.”

“i’ll be outside. bye yn.”

“stay safe kento!” you call back to him as you hear his footsteps get further away. 

satoru slowly closes the door. any trace of the sexual desires that were in the room previous have dissipated into a quiet sombre. he’s silent for a few moments before he turns his attention back to you, carefully assessing your response.

you stare up at the ceiling for a few more moments before you meet the eyes of your boyfriend. there’s an unspoken name between you and both of you are scared to say what you’re thinking.

the mission had initially meant to be one for you: it was supposed to be just a couple of grade two curses. easy. but you’d pushed yourself too hard the day before during train and could barely walk on your left leg. shoko had been away with family so the higher ups made the executive decision to send nanami and him. 

things went nasty quickly with the information being all wrong and satoru was the one who ultimately exorcised the curses as the rest of you mourned over what remained of his body. it didn’t matter that almost twelve months had passed. the guilt of ‘what if’ still tormented your memories and you’d be lucky if you went a week without seeing him in your dreams.

“i love you.” you turn your body to the left to see satoru having knelt down just in front of the bed. his icy blue eyes were filled to the brim with concern and pity for your situation. with satoru so often being away for missions now, you two had struggled to work through your guilt as you tried to pull further and further away from him. 

you offer him a small smile for reassurance. “i love you too.”

“always?” he tilts his head and grins. it didn’t take a genius to figure out that satoru had two very clear and distinctive love languages: physical touch and affirmations. he didn’t need the reassurance but there was just something about hearing you profess your love for him over and over that made his heart soar. 

you reach out to hold his face, and he practically purrs as he nestles himself closer into your touch. “of course pretty boy. who else would put up with your tantrums?”

“tantrums?! i would never,” satoru says, appalled by the accusations so much so he holds your wrists and kisses both palms of your hands. “that hurt my feelings.”

“you’ll be okay.” you roll your eyes, but your lips have quirked into a small smile and satoru mirrors it with a with a wide as he classes that as a  success. he places one little kiss to your lips, sighing reluctantly as he knows he’s got to leave you. 

despite the fact he was getting ready to go on a mission and not spend the day on a date with you, you do love the view of watching him get dressed. his back muscles in particular as he pulls a white shirt over his head that you wish you could bite—

“help?”

since you had started slipping into satoru’s room and spending the night, you two had formed a codependent morning routine. one part of which being the fact that satoru seemed to lose all ability to button up his uniform jacket the second you were in his bed. 

you shrug off the duvet and slip off of his bed to stand in front of him where he stood awaiting. a silence settles between the two of you as your hands gently pull his jacket together and slot each of the buttons into place. his glasses remain in his hand so you’re blessed with those ocean eyes watching each of your ministrations.

“suguru gets back from visiting his parents today,” you loop your arms loosely around his neck once you’re done, and he wants to laugh at the way you stretch up to meet his height. “him, ieiri and i are going to get boba if you want to join. bring kento too. i’m worried about him.”

“he’ll be okay,” you frown at satoru’s cheerful, but also dismissive, tone. “it’s just a part of-”

“-being a sorcerer. yeah i know,” you grumble. satoru is not an idiot, far from it, he’s just never known anything other than the jujutsu world. in such a world death has become normalised – even for a boy only eighteen. “but me and kento aren’t from families like you. we didn’t know what we were signing up for,” you explain and his lips pull into a thin line.

he presses an apologetic kiss to you forehead and gives your waist a soft squeeze, “i’m sorry, love you, baby.”

“i love you more,” you draw your arms around him more tightly and press your cheek to your chest as you hold him close to you, “come back to me safely.”

“answer my calls idiot,” you sigh as you press on geto’s contact for the third time. he should have arrived at the school twenty minutes ago but it had pretty much been radio silent since he’d arrived at his parents. other than the confirmation that he was there and safe, you hadn’t heard anything. you initially weren’t concerned – he was seeing his family after all – but he was never late to meet you.

“ieiri!” 

as you run down the hall to her, you notice your teacher, yaga, standing stony-faced with paper in his hands. you hold up your phone with suguru’s contact on the screen, “have you heard from sugu-“ shoko sighs, shaking her head and your stomach drops. not suguru too. you could barely recover from haibara. the only person that got you through that was satoru and you don’t think he can hold you together and keep himself sane if suguru had been killed by a curse too.

“someone tell me he’s still alive,” there’s tears welling up in your eyes as your grip tightens around your phone. what if you’d called him a day prior? would he have answered? asked for help? could you have saved him?

shoko can’t meet your gaze as she struggles to find the right words to explain so it’s your teacher that wordlessly answers your demand by handing you the letter in his hand, “read this.” 

you wish you hadn’t.

“what? what?” you repeat, eyes wide as you scan the word ‘execution’. your stomach is doing flips at this point and you really think you might be sick. your head pounds as you reread the words. “is this real?”

“unfortunately,” yaga confirms.

you think maybe it’s selfish, your friend is clearly suffering because no perfectly well being commits such a heinous act, but the only person that concerns you is– “does satoru know?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “i’m informing him once he’s back with nanami. i’m going to need all four of you to be on your best behaviour, keeping a low profile and completing any missions received as swiftly and efficiently as possible. we’re all going to be scrutinised for every decision we make from now.” yaga doesn’t have to explain himself fully to you both to know what he’s implying. all of you are under suspicion now of conspiracy – one mistake and the next execution letter could have your name written.

“do you know where is suguru now?” you ask shoko with a shaky voice once yaga has walked away back to his office.

“the boba shop,” shoko plays with the unlit cigarette in her hand. she, much like gojo, kept her true emotions hidden by a veil of grins and snarky comments, but there was a clear tone of defeat in her voice. “we planned to go there so he’ll go.”

you lift your head up from the floor, “but that was before he did… this.” there is a lump in your throat as you speak and find yourself feeling selfish as your concern shifts to your boyfriend and how he’ll handle suguru’s defection.

“he’ll be there,” shoko says firmly with the utmost trust in her voice. a true belief that he will never let you both down, that he will never do anything that has been accused of him.

-

that belief is quickly dashed, a day dream that isn’t real and the truth cut through you deeper than any curse ever could. suguru was nonchalant when you had spoken, apologetic that he had to leave all of his friends as opposed to his actions that caused that. shoko had called satoru and the rest had been a blur as she took you back to jujutsu high to give satoru and suguru their space.

time stills until a familiar aura of cursed energy enters the high school. he’s not wearing his usual dark shades so you can see his eyes are clearly bloodshot and puffy from tears – even if they’re partially covered by his growing white locks and his hunched posture.

you, shoko and yaga have been awaiting his return. there is a target on suguru’s head now and your teacher needs to know if satoru has pulled the trigger. you just need your boyfriend to come back to you in one piece, both metaphorically and physically. 

he doesn’t acknowledge any of you. there’s no words, no gestures, no shift in his energy to even let you all know that he’s responsive to the outside world. it’s like he’s just on autopilot as he pushes between the three of you and heads in the direction of the dorm rooms.

shoko sighs, flicking the lighter in her hand as she silently takes her leave. your heart feels like it’s ripping in two and you’re struggling to pick up the falling pieces as you watch her walk away. suguru is gone, shoko is shutting down and satoru…

yaga encourages you to go and speak to satoru whilst he discusses with other sorcerers about plans going forward regarding suguru. 

“toru? toru?” you knock lightly on his door, repeating your nickname for him when he doesn’t respond to you the first time. you know he’s in there.

another twenty seconds go by before you make the assertive decision to enter, pressing your palms against the door and slowly sliding it open. slipping in and closing the door behind yourself, there’s a slight ache in your chest as you mourn the blissful morning you had woken up to. a morning in a world that no longer existed.

the bed is still perfectly made as you had tidied it before you’d gone on your suguru hunt. satoru sits at his desk, his foot tapping lightly on the ground repeatedly as his knee moves up and down. you have never seen him in any state of anxiety before. it felt intrusive to witness the strongest in such a manner – even if you are his girlfriend.

you perch yourself onto the edge of his bed and wait for him to open up. which he never does. shocker. “did suguru say much to you?”

“no.”

“i know this is bad right now but-“

“do you know?” satoru snaps, hands slamming down against his desk causing you to jump. you’ve never seen him speak so angrily and act out – his emotions overruling his logical reasoning. “is it because i’m fucking cryin? is that what made you realise?”

“satoru-“

“you were here. you have been with him and not once did you mention that suguru wasn’t doing well,” satoru doesn’t sugarcoat his words as he layers the blame thickly on you, “maybe if you hadn’t been so fucking focused on how your last fuck up killed haibara, i wouldn’t have lost my best friend.” you choke back a sob, hand over your mouth as tears well up in your eyes. satoru doesn’t look at you. somewhere between this morning and now, your position has shifted – from the centre of his universe to just another weak person who burdens him.

“he is my best friend too,” your broken voice tries to defend itself. the attempt falls on deaf ears because now satoru is pacing back and forth, his fingers pressed to the sides of his forehead as he rotates them in small circles. migraine.

“satoru i get you’re grieving and you’re hurt but you can’t blame me,” you try to reason because god you love him so much and you think if he means what he says, if satoru truly blames you… you’re not sure how you’re going to be able to move on.

“cant i?” satoru lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “i ignored him for you. to make sure you were okay.”

“look we’re both emotional right now. i’ll give you some time to cool off and we can work this out–” you try to reach out and hold his hand but you're met with a force you haven’t felt in a very very very long time. he turned his infinity on.

“dont bother,” he slouches back down into his chair, forearm covering his eyes as he leans back. “there’s nothing to work out.”

those tears that you’d been holding back are freely flowing now, down past your reddned cheeks and dripping onto his bed sheets as you feel yourself become light-headed. “are you break-“

“go.” there’s a chill down your spine from the assertiveness in his voice. it’s monotone and without any trace of the love he had for you that morning. he really means it then, everything he said.

so you comply and you don’t look back.

– TWELVE MONTHS LATER

“ieiri, i just need two more minutes then i should be ready to go–”

“you’re leaving.” 

your breath hitches and your whole world comes to a halt at the oh-so-familiar voice behind you. one that had barely addressed you or acknowledged your existence for a year now. a ghost.

“gojo,” you know he doesn’t like your usage of his first name from the disgruntled sound he makes. there’s a brief pause as your brain hot wires itself back into function again and you refrain from repeating his family name that tastes so foreign on your tongue. “uh, yeah, my plane to korea leaves in a few hours.” 

“you weren’t going to say goodbye?”

you scoff, closing the last box with the remains of your tape, “this is the first time you’ve recognised my existence in nearly a year, gojo. can’t say goodbye to someone who’s already left you behind.” your tone is especially sharp as you utter the syllables of his last name. it hurts to speak to him, to hear his voice, to exist to him again. he doesn’t get to speak to you with a breeziness in his voice, like he never abandoned you in the worst way possible. like he didn’t shatter your heart into a million pieces when you were already at your lowest.

the world of jujutsu is cruel and had been especially to you since geto’s defection and the break up with gojo. you had shoko and nanami but shoko was slowly regressing into a shell of a former self and nanami had always had one foot out of the door. the last twelve months had only solidified his decision to leave.

the higher ups have little to no respect for you – that is a fact. gojo leaving you had removed any sort of political defence you had against them and they didn’t hesitate to question your position and capabilities as a sorcerer after every mission. you don;t need gojo to survive, you could stand up for yourself, but you deserved more than to be left in the lurch at such a volatile time with suguru’s defection. 

there’s a dampness in your palm and you wince as you realise how tightly you had been clenching your fists.

gojo reaches out for your bloodied hands and you flinch away, finally turning back to look at him.

he’s stunning.

“don’t touch me,” you are quick to widen the distance between the two of you, wiping your hands on your dark skirt. for a moment there’s a parallel to all those months ago – when he’d decided to break up with you and cut you off from touching him with the same infinity that had once brought you so much joy. initially, allowing you to touch him had been his way of opening up, learning how to be vulnerable to the person he loves. he hadn’t needed to tell you you were over the moment he forced that barrier between you once more.

“i’m sorry.” his blue eyes aren’t as blue as they once were, their light dimmed, and he looks genuinely apologetic for overstepping. it doesn’t ease the ache.

the two of you take a breath and just stare. your eyes scan the face and body of the man who you thought you knew like the back of your hand. every scar on his body and every thought in his mind.

his lips quirk into a sad smile, “i love you.” your jaw clenches at his admission and you turn back to your boxes. 

he doesn’t mean it. he can’t.

“gojo,” you warn quietly, your thoughts quickly going into haywire at his confession because you’d be lying if you said you don’t love him too. in fact, you know you do – it’s what has driven your hatred towards him to blossom into a garden of sharp, bleeding roses.

“please stop calling me that,” he always hated to be reduced to the clan he is from. he takes a cautious step towards you as the words continue to spill from his lips. “i love you, i love you so much, but i have lost so much. i got scared and i pushed you away and it was so wrong of me–”

“i lost everything.” you look directly at him and you can only hope that he knows you’re referring to him and him alone. it isn’t that you consider everyone else expendable, you’re just capable of coping with the loss of them. a piece of you died a year ago and 

“but you’re not the strongest are you?” you click your tongue and almost laugh. he belongs in this world of sorcery more than you ever could. everything is reduced to power. “i’ve been this prodigy since as long as i can remember and i couldnt save haibara, i didn’t even realise suguru was spiralling and you…” 

“i was right here,” you press a finger directly into the centre of his chest to emphasise your point. somehow you manage not to hesitate and stutter as you realise he’s dropped his infinity for you again – even if it is just to allow you to prod him in anger. “i needed you. i lost someone who i saw as a little brother and then one of my best friends kills his parents and an entire village. i needed you.”

gojo’s left silent for a moment so you finish off, “you know how i find this society to be a prestigious bunch of shit but i stayed for you and you still left me. i would’ve done anything for you.” there’s those tears again. you need him out of your room and you need out of this world as soon as possible.

“i have two kids.”

“what?” you don’t bother to hide the hurt in your voice, nor the underlying tones of jealousy. you’d been out of his life for twelve months and he’d already moved on? and had kids? at nineteen?

“they were about to get sold to the zen’in clan-“ your eyebrows furrow as the pieces of the puzzle come together. 

“fushiguro’s?” you cut him off to ask tentatively, and gojo nods. you take a seat on your bed. you’re not quite sure you can handle anything coming out of his mouth without risking passing out from the sheer overwhelmingness of it all. how dare he waltz back into your life, announce he has two kids that he was willingly raising to ensure they didn’t become victims of the zen’in clan? for what? as a favour for the man who basically killed him not even three years prior?

gojo flashes you a sheepish smile, clasping his hands together as he rocked back and forth on his heels nervously. “want to raise them with me?”

taglist ! @sanokiss ! @dummyf ! @erenssin ! @makiuchiha97 ! @sosoa ! @bontensh0e ! @cole-silas ! @fenrysashryver ! @istanuwow !

[that-wizard-oki]

I can't really put it into full coherent words right now, but I did want to acknowledge Nigel Lambert's recent passing.

I know we all love to joke about Ambrose, whom Nigel voiced, sending the wizard (and arguably other characters) in perilious quests that he just simply doesnt wanna deal with or whatnot, but in all seriousness, I absolutely love Ambrose's character. A big part of why I think Ambrose works as a character is because Nigel is able to balance Merle's lighthearted kookiness with his age, knowledge, and the weight and fear that he carries from his many lived experiences.

A scene that comes to mind is when Ambrose banishes Morganthe from Ravenwood; the way Ambrose talks about it being HIS failure to teach Morganthe, and even though he states his disappointment with her, you can feel from Nigel's performance that the character of Ambrose is just as disappointment in himself. as the player, you understand that, in that moment, Merle really believed that this was the 'right' choice for Morganthe, to send her away, to find a better teacher than what he could offer. Obviously there are more layers to it, but the way Nigel was able to convey those underlying emotions through his acting was impeccable, and is partly why a lot of the scenes he's in in Arc 2, especially this one, stuck with me so much over the years.

I could go on, but really I just wanted to say that I'm incredibly grateful for the life he brought to Ambrose, and the whole of Wizard101. A voice that millions of kids have heard, and thousands of us still know today. Thank you, Mr. Lambert, for bringing magic into my life, both in childhood and now in my adult life.

(Btw, we at KI were not aware of his passing until a few days ago. It's possible some folks where aware, but at large it was unknown to us.)

[jymwahuwu]

it's late at night and I am plagued with DUBCON THOUGHTS. No Capitano unfortunately, it's gonna be the man WHO EVADED EVERY SINGLE TICKET I HAD(79 at the time) YOU. ITS YOU, MOZE. YOU'RE THE CHOSEN ONE.

ignore my tiny rant, I will simply get him next time.

But thinking of Moze who wants you(afab reader!!) just..so desperately. He doesn't even care about the consequences anymore, the moment he saw you undress in order to change clothes, he was on you in a heartbeat.

He's invisible, you can't see the man. You can definitely feel him however.

After all, you're stuck gasping and whimpering in his hold, your legs held up by the back of your knees. He didn't even bother to bend you over your drawer, he just needed to have you this instant. You don't even know who is doing this but you..can definitely tell they weren't a pushover. Not from the way he was slamming you down onto his cock over and over as he held you up with his arms. You can feel his defined muscles from the way he's actively pushing your knees into your sternum. (I can't believe I'm using medical terms for smut. Please, professor, I can explain..)

You can't see him, he's completely invisible but..you can definitely see the way he's making a faint bulge in your lower stomach, right where..your womb is supposed to be at..through the body mirror in your bedroom. And he can see it too, from the way his eyes are trained on the sight of you.

Poor you who's an absolute mess in his grasp, unable to protest or even squirm against his grip. All you can do is..just take him over and over until he deems it enough. But it's never enough. He seeks to make sure you can't ever walk it seems. And you're just stuck taking every single inch of him, his keen eyes making sure you don't miss a inch every thrust. He does have to admit it's a pretty sight, your eyes glossy and face a mess from your tears as you drool mindlessly. And he especially loves it whenever he manages to make your squirt from penetration alone. It's his new mission now even.

I will now go back to bed after removing such thoughts, night nighttt

cw: yandere, non-con, break into your home, become invisible, masturbate

Hate you for keeping me awake (not really, don't worry) 😔😣😫💦 I was ready for bed but I couldn't sleep at the thought of Moze staying transparent and fucking us, so had to answer this to get a restful night.

Based on past history, Moze may rarely reach people. There are very few people he trusts and can socialize with. So he really didn’t know how to talk to you at first. He follows you to your house just to say hello and check if you have enough food in the refrigerator(?). Once Moze saw you starting to change…he was stunned. You lift up your clothes and take off your bra, skillfully taking off your pants/skirt and changing into comfortable pajamas. Moze witnesses you bending down and taking off your underwear, revealing the tempting and sweet place inside, and this Shadow Guard is right behind your back.

"Um…where?" You muttered, opening the cabinet and looking for the pair of underwear. Or go in to take a shower, casually wrapped in a bath towel, or walk out in comfortable cotton clothes, sit on the sofa, blow dry your hair and check your phone. You expose your skin casually, leaning on the sofa with your thighs, or curling your calves, shaking your arms, tying up some hair to expose the back of your neck (if you have short hair, it is always exposed!), and you don't pay much attention to the fabric on your chest. Some water droplets fall down your skin. Being ignorantly defiled - while you're checking your phone, someone is jerking off at you.

So, these are really doomed, sitting on the lap of an unknown transparent life form and being split open by his cock. You screamed, begged until your voice was hoarse, kicked and kicked, but didn't move an inch. Is the other side a solid, unshakable wall? His fingers dig into your hips and he lifts you up and puts you down repeatedly. Lift you up and put you down. "Please…please…who are you? Stop!" Is that a human? Can you push him away? But no. Unable to resist. It was a dizzying, dizzying pleasure and ecstasy. He'd bring up those electric feelings as he stroked your clit, those hands making sure there was no other way to pin you down on his thick cock, over and over again. He seemed to have muscles, and his warm and thick breath was completely transparent. He occasionally makes heavy breathing sounds and occasionally kisses your lips.

The mirror you use to change clothes somehow gets flipped over each time to reflect you sitting on something transparent, your vagina being squeezed and pushed open. You gasped with a cry, and your hands touched your abdomen in vain, trying to push it down, but there was no… the transparent one was still there, faithfully pistoning. Moze must admit, you are beautiful now. You're more beautiful than when he didn't touch you.

Every night, he looks at you holding some kind of exorcism charm, or some weapon, or even just a broom, thinking that he can stop him. You threw the exorcism talisman on the ground and breathed a sigh of relief, and the next second you were supported on your hips and started stroking and rubbing. Look at your momentary panic, as well as your chaotic tears and moans. You can never fight those desires. Really beautiful.

You don't know whether to lean on him or push him away.

[byunpum]

Ghost girl | prologue

Pairing: Sully family x Albino na'vi!fem (for the moment)

Warning: All the characters are aged up 20’s, disaster, injured, death, neytiri being the mom we all need.

Note:I had this draft written, and it was taking dust. So I'm posting it, so you can read it and tell me what you think. You can see that I haven't paired the reader with any of the characters, and I think it's my first writing that the reader is not human. So I would like to know if you like it, and if so, who would you like to be Y/N's partner?

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5(final)

You felt short of breath, the more you ran. A wave of fire was coming towards you. Holding your newborn baby in your arms. Turning to see your village being burned. You had to run, you had to get your baby to safety. The great trees that were once cold, were ablaze with flames. Climbing up a hill, fighting with your feet stuck in the snow. Resting a little, seeing how everyone was gone. The ships of those humans had destroyed everything.

Their ships were moving away, leaving a desert of fire in the snow. You can feel someone touching your chest, bringing you out of your shock. Your baby touches your chest, starting to cry. You hug him tighter, trying to find some consolation. Your family, your people…they were all dead. Two attacks in less than 6 months, just for a piece of land, just for having that damn mineral. Tears welled up in your eyes, you were heartbroken. It was all over…you were alone. You stood for a moment, analyzing the situation. You could still hear the sound of falling trees, the burning snow and the horrible smell of death. You had several wounds on your hands and legs. But they were not as worrying as the open wound on your right thigh.

You had tried to bandage it, before running out of your family's hut, as it burned. But it was barely covered. Groaning in pain, you sit down in the snow. You had to think about what you were going to do, you were alone. You had no home…those demons had taken everything from you. Holding your baby, closer. Kissing his hair. "Easy…easy" you speak. You had to get shelter, and fast. From your chest hung a beautiful green stone that your mother gave you minutes after you lost track of it. She had told you that there was a jungle clan, the Omaticaya. That they could help me, that it was the safest place. Taking the stone in your hand, to now take a look at the opposite side of the landscape.

You were from the clan of the icy mountains, the trip was going to be hard and dangerous. You were not a hunter, or an explorer. You were simply a girl who had lost everything. But you had no choice, rising from the ground. Bowing in respect. "Eywa…take care of my village, my people…take them with you. Promise them that we will meet again. I promise" you make the 'i see you' sign. Taking a last look at what was once your home, and leaving for the unknown.

The jungle was quieter than usual, the wildlife could be heard sounding. That's what neytiri thought as she walked in search of an animal. She had gone out to hunt alone. She had to clear her head, and spend time alone like the old days. Playing and touching some flowers, when out of nowhere he hears a small whimper. Her whole body freezes, raising her ears to listen better. That noise was not coming from an animal. She stayed silent, waiting to hear it again. A few minutes later, she heard the soft whimper again, someone was in danger. She was confused, it could be a human calling for help. Or a wounded na'vi. She didn't want to risk it if it was a human, she only socialized with the humans on the base, far from that nothing. But something told her she had to go see what was going on. Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly to where those whimpers were heard.

Peering carefully through the bushes, her eyes widen. When she sees a na,vi leaning against a tree. But that was not what was impressive, what had caught her attention. It was the color of this woman's skin, you had snow-white skin. Just like your hair, the stripes that adorned your skin were almost a blue that faded into your skin. Neytiri stood watching, she had never seen anything like this in her life. She was in a state of shock, it wasn't until she heard a whimper coming from the girl's arms. Neytiri looked down, seeing how she was holding the baby. But the grip was lazy, watching as the girl tried to move her arm, but it was too weak. Neytiri decided to approach carefully.

Neytiri holds her bow close to her, still being suspicious. Just to get close enough, to make you look up. Neytitiri felt her chest tighten when she could see how young the girl was. According to her she had to be the same age as her children. She let go of her bow, noticing that there was no weapon on any part of your body. But that you were injured, with burns.

You lift your gaze, looking at the woman. She was strange to your eyes, just as she was the first time you had seen a jungle na'vi. Looking down again, you were so exhausted. You had no strength to go on, your thigh wound was serious. And you had barely eaten in two days. You watch as the woman kneels down in front of you. "Who are you?" says neytiri. Trying to sound calm. "I…my name is Y/N te noeä pauzu'itan" you pause to catch your breath. "I am from the clan of the mountains of…cold" you speak, in a low tone. Neytiri moves closer to you, now all had some coherence. Her mother had told her something about these clans.

"What happened…why aren't you in your lands?" neytiri speaks, daring to touch a piece of your hair. Her maternal instinct, not allowing her not to help you. "They…they killed everything…everyone" you speak. "They?" asks neytiri. "The demons" you speak, neytiri hearing this word, tightens her bow. Closing her eyes, in response. Neytiri moves closer, looking at your wounded skin. And notices the large wound on your thigh. "We must heal it…I'll take you to the village" she speaks, watching as you awkwardly raise your arm. "No…I can't" you pick up your baby as best you can. Bringing him closer to neytiri. "Please…take care of my son. I can't" you are on the verge of fainting. "No…I won't leave you here" says Neytiri.

"I will die…I just want him to be okay…take care of him for me" your voice is very low. Neytiri notices how your hands are shaking, taking the baby in her arms. Watching as yours fall to your sides. "Thank you" you speak, smiling weakly. "I'm not going to leave you here" neytiri orders, getting up to think better. She had to plan something…in a matter of minutes neytiri created a sort of bundle, so she could hang the baby on her chest. Coming up to bend his back in front of you, taking your weak arms. Climbing you on her back, holding you tightly. She knew you could barely breathe, how weak you felt. Neytiri knew that if she left you, you would die in a couple of hours.

Starting her way back to the village. She walked as fast as she could, she had a baby crying. While carrying a girl on his back. She could have ignored her, but no…she could not. Getting closer to the village, taking faster steps. "We're close" neytiri says, waving your hand a little, hearing a 'mmm' in response. Good, you were alive. Entering the village, seeing how everyone was shocked by the scene, while neytiri walked fast to the hut where her mo'at mother was working. "Help, mother!!!" neytiri shouts, near the hut. Mo'at comes out quickly. To see how her daughter was carrying, what looked like a dead body. "This one" speaks mo'at.

"No…she's really hurt," says neytiri, watching as her mother begins to help her take the girl in her arms. Mo'at holds you on her arms, rushing to take you inside to treat your wounds. "I found her alone in the forest…she told me that her village was attacked by the sky people" says neytiri, she was scared. She tried to get there as fast as she could. Watching as her mother, began to examine your body. " She is from the clan of the cold mountains," says Mo'at. Mo'at finds the largest wound, and removes the dirty cloth. "I need to clean and treat this wound. I need the help of more people. Tell kiri to come" mo'at orders his daughter. Neytiri runs out of the hut.

She had the little baby on her chest, who had already calmed down, but she could hear some whimpering " calm down, we are taking care of your mother," Neytiri cuddles him, as she arrives to her hut. Kiri was with her sister tuk, talking to her father. They all see how neytiri enters in a hurry, she was agitated and you could see how worried she was. "kiri honey…come!!! Mo'at needs us" says Neytiri, Kiri without thinking about it gets up and accompanies her mother. "baby what's wrong?" shouts jake, from his seat. Noticing how neytiri ignores him and continues on her way to her mother's hut. Upon arriving, neytiri could see how mo'at had already started with everything, placing some medicinal pastes on the girl's skin. Kiri is surprised to see you, she has never seen someone like you before, but she doesn't ask too many questions. She feels her mother handing her something in her arms.

Kiri looks down, and sees a baby. Just like the girl they were healing. "Kiri hold the baby" says neytiri, approaching her mother. "Mom…will she be okay?" asks neytiri, she sees how your breathing is vague. But you are alive. "Yes…she's weak and I have to monitor that wound. But look" mo'at points to the large wound on your thigh. "I already put medicine in it…I need you to go get these herbs. I will make a drink to bring her vitality back" mo'at says, watching as neytiri ascends with her face, getting up to get everything her mother asked for. Mo'at watches as kiri is cooing to the baby, and began to wonder what such a young girl was doing alone with a baby. She could see that the baby was only a month old. Looking carefully at the girl's body, observing how on her neck hangs a green rock. Holding it in her hand, she had seen that rock somewhere.

After a rather agitated afternoon, neytiri was sitting next to her mother. Holding the baby, and kiri was next to the girl. "So what are we going to do with him?" asks Kiri. "I think it will be best if you take care of him…for tonight. She is very weak, I will take care of her" says mo'at, arranging a few pieces of white hair. Neytiri reaches over and caresses the girl's cheek. "Kiri…come let's go to the house" speaks neytiri. Kiri gets up, following her mother. Just as they were about to leave. "Neytiri…later I will come by your hut" says mo'at. Neytiri ascends, and leaves the hut. Looking at the baby in her arms.

Arriving at the hut, she finds to her surprise that everyone in the Sully family was there. Tuk is still small, so she runs to her mother. She hadn't seen her all day, but stops when she notices what her mom is carrying in her arms. "Is that a baby?" the little girl asks. Neytiri smiles, "Yes…and it's very small." neytiri walks over to where jake is. "A baby? where did you get that?" the man is scared and worried. Neytiri sits down next to him, moving the piece of cloth covering the baby a little. Revealing a totally white baby, his eyelashes, hair…everything. This causes everyone in the family to move closer. Including the two youngest men in the family. "That's…what is it?" asks lo'ak. Touching the baby's tiny foot. "I found a girl." Neytiri pauses, telling her family everything that happened. "Those bastards" jake says, the demons were just destroying…he was thinking to himself.

"I'm taking care of him…until she's okay" neytiri says. "but" she pauses…as some tears streamed down her face. "She is so young…I think she is the same age as you" neytiri looks at neteyam. The boy just looks at the baby that his mother holds on her chest. "and she's alone…I couldn't leave her there alone. She offered me her baby…she told me to keep him. Assuming she was going to die." says neytiri. Jake hugs her, and kisses her on the hundred. "You did the right thing my love…you're great. I bet that girl will be grateful" Jake speaks. At that same moment, everyone hears mo'at enter the hut.

"How is she?" asks Neytiri quickly. "She is stable…but she is very sleepy. I was able to give her the drink…she looks better" says mo'at. Kiri puts her hand to her chest, sighing in relief. " Mom…where did that girl come from?" neytiri asks, watching as mo'at sits in the familiar circle.

" The clan of the cold mountains…one of the most ancient clans. Great warriors and hunters. Their white skin, perfect for being invisible in their territory. Prepared to withstand brutal cold. Ghosts in white. They are not like all na'vis. separating in the far reaches of the mountains, to maintain their lineage. They carry a beautiful magic in their being… they are the favorites of eywa." mo'at spoke, watching as everyone listened to her intently. "Your father and I met them… making a pact of peace. They cared for us and we cared for them. But we never had another close call…not until now." Mo'at pulls from his pocket a stone. "This was given as a sign of peace…she had it around her neck. I guess she came for help" there was a silence in the room.

"She told me there was no one left" neytiri holds the baby tightly. Remembering how hundreds of her clan were wiped out, how their home tree was destroyed. And now they had to live in these caves in hiding. "I imagine the worst has happened…but we have to wait for her to tell us everything" mo'at speaks, reaching up to caress the baby's cheek. "Where is her family? Where is her mate?" mo'at asks. Neytiri falls silent, she too had many questions…but for the moment she was going to take care of the two of you. Until she could figure everything out.

[homunculus-argument]

I first tried to perm my hair when I was 14. At-home box perm, no idea what I was doing, just boldly going into the unknown. It looked like shit. Pure freaking garbage. I had failed dying my hair earlier so it was orange to begin with, so now it was an orange puff of frizzy curls like a clown wig. My sister howled with laughter, saying that I look like a fucking poodle, which did not help. I was 14 and I had irreversibly ruined my hair. If you had handed me a gun at that moment I would have shot myself right there.

Our mother, who had had perms for like 20 years at that point, did not tell me that I could still wash it off and didn't actually have to be stuck living like that for months or to have to shave it off. She didn't tell my sister to knock it off and stop being cruel when I was already crying. Instead, she came to me and gently told me that there's no use crying over that. That it doesn't matter how I look, and that the world is going to be full of people who say whatever they want and if I'm going to let it upset me every single time, I'm going to spend my whole life crying over every snide remark. I just need to grow a thicker skin and endure it.

Well, I did grow up, eventually, and moved out. Turns out that most people in the world actually aren't mean at all, and that I don't have the obligation to put up with people treating me whatever way they feel like. That was a hard thing to learn. But to be fair, that's nothing compared to how hard my sister has it. She's in her 30s and still struggling to learn that other people don't have the obligation to put up with her treating them whatever way she feels like.

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 2

Part 1

Eddie hadn't forgotten about Steve the next day. Far from it. But his early morning thoughts had been occupied with getting up in time and going through his morning routine. It wasn't until he got dressed and put his jacket on, the same one from yesterday, that he was hit with the remnants of Steve's scent. He lifted it to his nose and took a deep breath.

His number was still in the pocket. Would texting him now seem desperate? Eddie took another breath. Fuck appearances. He had to see him again.

-------------------------

Steve had been prepared to chalk up last night to a fever dream. Or even if it was somehow real, that Eddie wouldn't call or text. Or even if he did, it wouldn't be until weeks or months later when he remembered the pathetic omega he'd met one rainy night.

And then he checked his phone on his lunch break and saw that he had a few messages. All from an unknown number.

'hey' 'it's me' 'Eddie' 'that guy you met last night?' 'I was thinking that i could maybe take you out to dinner again?'

Steve beamed so hard anyone looking might think he was insane. How cool should he play it? Maybe he should wait until he got off of work. Would it be better to call? By the looks of the texts, Eddie seemed really into him. Would Steve be able to string him along for longer?

The moment the thought passed through it was gone. He had woken up this morning, yearning for Eddie's scent. If he got close to him again, there was no way that he could make him wait.

Steve told him that he was free any time.

It probably came off as desperate but he didn't care. He wanted Eddie and wanted to be wanted by him. He couldn't afford to play it cool.

Three days later, Steve was standing outside of a nice restaurant. Eddie had sent the location and Steve dressed in the best clothes he owned. Thankfully he didn't have much of a reason to wear them, so they looked fresh and he went the extra mile to iron them. It was a nice collared shirt in blue and some khaki pants. A car drove up and Eddie came out of it, tossing the keys to a valet.

Eddie had offered to pick him up from his apartment but Steve refused for some reason. It felt like a dignity thing.

"Hey there, handsome", Eddie grinned. He had a red button down over black slacks and that leather jacket again. Steve needed to bury his face in it, in Eddie.

Steve got part of his wish when Eddie slung an around his waist and led him inside. He refrained from turning his head to dip his nose into it and drown himself in Eddie. They sat down and a waiter was with them right away for their drink orders. The waiter asked about wine as Steve looked at the menu.

"Hmm, whatever's red and sweet, my good man", Eddie said.

"We have a nice Cabernet, if you would like."

Eddie looked like he was about to agree when Steve spoke up. "Eddie, what are you eating?"

The alpha glanced at the menu before pushing air out of his mouth. "Probably a steak, beautiful. I'm actually not all that picky."

"We'll take a Caremenare", Steve said. "One from Bordeaux if you have one, if not anything on from southern France is fine."

Eddie gave Steve an appraising look as the waiter walked off to get their drinks. He let out a low whistle and then Steve stiffened.

"You know your stuff."

"I uh, yeah", Steve cleared his throat. "This seems like a real classy joint. Normally a server will ask what you plan on dining on before giving a wine suggestion."

"Ah, so he thought I was some bum who would've been happy drinking some cooking sherry?"

"Basically." Steve hadn't meant to show off like that. It just came out.

Eddie didn't look put off though. If anything, he looked impressed.

"You know, I'm not hard to please. I'm the type to drink whatever they put in front of me. Unless it's vodka." Eddie stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"I figured a rock star would have more refined tastes", Steve said.

"Oh I think I've got great tastes", Eddie said, licking a canine.

Steve had been looking at the menu, about to ask what he meant he saw the look Eddie was giving him. He quickly snapped the menu back up to cover his face and how warm it felt. Steve was no stranger to blatant flirting. He'd frequently laid it on thick himself. But knowing who Eddie was and how they'd met put an extra layer on it.

Did Eddie like him for himself? Or because he seemed easy? They started talking, the conversation now about traveling. Eddie was telling him of a particularly wild night in Italy and Steve was halfway in thought.

Would he feel different if Eddie was just a normal alpha? Or was it the fact that Eddie knew he was half the way to destitute that made Steve hesitant? Above all, Steve just didn't know if Eddie respected him or if he felt sorry for him. Eddie hadn't ever said anything condescending about him or omegas in general though. He'd never made Steve feel lower than him. He made sure he was comfortable with rides and being paid for before doing so.

Steve remembered what his best friend told him before abandoning him (getting her dream job) across the country. Basically, waste not, want not, but applying it to everything. If Eddie wanted to take him out and buy him meals and drinks, who was Steve to deny him? And if he wanted something sweet after, well Steve wouldn't be upset.

"Wait, you tried sneaking into the catacombs? You know it's a tourist site? You can just get a guide and go in", Steve said.

"Yeah, well Jeff had this bright idea of going in without permission, cause you know, rebellion is totally more metal than just hiring a tour guide, and going at like 2 am because that's the 'best time'", Eddie did air quotes and rolled his eyes. "And also tried to get into more restricted areas."

"Lemme guess, Jeff's a free spirited explorer?"

"I like adventure as much as the next guy, but I also like seeing the sky", Eddie said. "And Gareth's worse. Dude froze solid the moment we got down there. Hell of a time to learn he's got claustrophobia."

Their orders were taken and Eddie watched probably with a bit too much interest as Steve ate. He was enjoying this ritzy fare as much as he did the bar and local restaurant from before. Maybe Steve was the type to fit in anywhere. Eddie wanted to give him more. He'd seen some of the couples around them. People with clearly money to spare and they lavished it on the beauty dining with them. Gilded omegas. Kept omegas.

"I just wanted to, I don't know, take care of him", Eddie had lamented to his band mates while on a Zoom call.

"What, like a puppy?", Grant asked while in the middle of doing laundry.

"No! Yes? Like, ugggh", Eddie ran his hands down his face. "I know how this is gonna sound. Don't judge me."

"Holy shit", Gareth paused in his gaming to look at Eddie's face on one of his screens. "Dudes, I think it's finally happening."

"No fucking way", Jeff said.

Eddie turned around in his chair, trying to turn his back to them but he went to hard and did a 360 instead.

"Eddie, do you wanna be his-"

"Please don't say it out loud", Eddie covered his face with his hands.

"He does", Jeff said. "He wants to be a sugar daddy."

"This guy's gotta be hot. You got pics?", Grant asked.

"No one's that hot", Gareth said. "Chrissy was that hot and you still didn't-"

"Alright, forget I said anything. This is supposed to be a brainstorming sesh", Eddie quickly changed the subject.

Eddie wanted Steve to be his. But he didn't just want to date him. He wanted to spoil him, take him on exotic vacations, show him off, have Steve lie in bed without a care outside of being Eddie's baby.

But he couldn't just ask that, could he? That was probably one aspect of celebrity life Eddie, nor any of the other guys really knew too well. Getting a date? Easy. Getting someone like this? Would Steve even want to do that? He probably had his own goals and aspirations that went beyond being some guy's plaything. God though, Eddie would treat him so right. Steve really wouldn't want for anything.

"So, I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but how does a uh, fine vintage such as yourself find him single?"

"'Fine vintage'? Are you calling me old?", Steve asked with mock offense.

"Well you wear it very nicely", Eddie quipped back.

"For the record, I'm not chronically single. I've just been pretty busy lately. Had a few quick lays, but nothing serious for a while."

"How about somethingggg not serious buuut pretty exclusive?", Eddie asked. He leaned a little closer to Steve and was able to smell the increased interest. Good.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you, me, on a French beach in about a month. You could really show off that wino talent."

Steve snickered and moved a little closer to Eddie. "Well you can start with not calling me a 'wino'. And if you really want me to show off, you'll have to take my to Italy."

Eddie put an arm around Steve. "That can be arranged." He started to kiss his neck and let out a soft growl at the way Steve melted under his lips. His hand found Steve's thigh and gave it a squeeze.

Steve hummed and turned his head to kiss Eddie's cheek, then grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. He gave Eddie's lips a rather chaste kiss but then whispered against them.

"Take me to your place."

dont @ me on the wine stuff i literally drank a $7 bottle of vermouth yesterday and enjoyed it clearly i am not an expert.

Part 3

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: You're hoping to go out for a while on your own, but of course, there's always someone watching closely

─Warnings: mahito, blood, toxic behaviors, obsession, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Two / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

YOU WERE in a bad position and the next move made you lose the game, you didn't care at all, already used to this routine of losing.

"I don't understand how you can be so bad at playing this."

"I was never interested in board games, and even less so in chess."

You shrugged your shoulders as you watched Sukuna checkmate again, you sighed, narrowing your eyes, this night seemed excessively long, even when the king of curses himself offered you to have friendly games during the nights where you coincided in his domain ─because this idiot didn't have anything better to do either─ after a few games you end up bored, not to mention that you were always the one who lost.

"Let's make a deal, brat."

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow at his words, you were definitely discovering many unknown tints about Sukuna while you were locked up here, you nodded waiting for him to continue, although you already had your answer in mind, neither you nor him had anything better to do here.

"You don't like sorcerers and neither do I, but I'm not part of the group of villains of mediocre curses, you don't want to be involved with them either, why don't we help each other?"

"How do I know I can trust you? Also, how could I help? I have flesh and blood surveillance cameras out there."

"Once you make a deal, you agree to some rules, if the person breaks them they will receive a punishment, and you can be useful if I use you against them."

"So I only serve as a bargaining chip? What the hell do I gain from that?"

"Protection-"

"Don't I have enough of that already?"

"Shut up and let me finish." you let out a soft sigh, cringing at his demand, this geezer made you tremble in your seat when he seemed angry, but you would never admit it out loud "You don't need more protection, but your family does, don't they? You are not even aware of the dangers they are exposed to."

Again, everyone seemed to know how to play with your feelings, you frowned thinking about your parents, you called them recently to update them on your supposed exchange with other students and they didn't seem consumed by cursed energy or any malaise in general, they definitely seemed better now that you weren't hanging around and attracting all those bad energies, although you were unaware that the real danger was not what you were attracting, but the people who are trying to have you just for themselves, for them your parents were an obstacle.

"Well? We have a deal?"

He extended his hand, with a sly smile as if he were already waiting for an affirmative answer, you remained silent for a couple more seconds, staring at his hand, you brought yours closer, placing it on top of his, but not shaking it.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to reject."

"What!? Are you an idiot?"

"Probably, but maybe this pact will only bring me more problems, you know… the whole fucking world is after you, or your fingers, or your head."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, you could feel his anger expanding even outside his body, you even thought he would kill you right there so he wouldn't see you again for the moment, however he started to laugh, increasing the volume of his laughter like if he were a psychopath.

"You really don't know anything about this world or the people around you, okay, I'll let the weight of your choice fall on your shoulders, but I won't make you the offer again."

You gave him a thumbs up, not even looking at Sukuna as you had your nose stuck in your phone, a little bored with the talk about pacts and protection, if you were going to get out of this cursed world situation it would be on your own and without anyone's help, if that led to your perdition so be it, but at least you could choose what you wanted.

He got a little twitch in his eye when he saw that he was being ignored or that you didn't really care about his comment, annoyed with that electronic device that was taking up all your attention, he seemed like one of those anti-internet parents who believe that the new technologies are the devil, luckily you woke up before he could grab your phone and throw it into the air.

You returned to your routine, each day a little less sane and more annoyed by the attitude of the sorcerers around you, you had thought so many times about accepting Mahito's offers to 'fight' at his side simply to annoy the others, however you would be giving the pleasure to the villains, which you were not going to do either, in no way, no one would have privileges, everyone is equally guilty that your life is now a spiral of obsession and overprotection, not to mention the macabre creatures that chase you.

Sometimes you think that if you had met them under different circumstances you would not have such a forced relationship with some of them, Itadori seemed like a good boy, Megumi has his moments but he is not a bad person, Nobara would be a great friend and Gojo… is a separate topic.

Today was a day in which you thanked all the gods of all the religions ever known, the three of them were on a mission that you were not allowed to go on, Gojo was busy with other matters that you did not know about and you did not know the whereabouts of the sophomores, so you had some peace of mind.

You took the opportunity to leave the vicinity of the Jujutsu high school now that you didn't have eyes on you, throwing yourself into the streets full of noise and normal people, oh how you missed being an npc who simply did daily errands and slept without having to worry about what curses and sorcerers were after you, you would really pay to erase the memory of all the people introduced into your life these last few months.

You walked for a while without any mishap, which made you suspect that everything was too calm, you shrugged, taking out your phone to check the time, however in just a second the object was completely torn from your hands, you blinked with a blank look as you watched the thief run away, too distracted trying not to scream in front of the crowd of people, you didn't notice how a black blur ran off in the same direction as the thief, the same direction you took a second after. You kept all your annoyance to yourself, smiling fully as you followed the path of the asshole who had had the brilliant idea of stealing you, of all people.

There was no way you were letting that guy get away when you bought that phone relatively recently with your own sweat and tears, without the monetary help of your parents, you were not willing to buy another one, plus it was your only way to evade the reality in which you were trapped now. You dodged people, dogs, you were almost run over but you managed to get on the heels of the thief, whatever the case, someone jumped on him before you could trip him and punch him.

"What do you think you're doing!? Shit like you stealing something from my precious sister!"

"AHH- I'm sorry- I- please!"

You stayed frozen in place, your face turned pale, your blood rushing out of your veins as you watched the thief being brutally beaten by the man with two messy buns, oh yeah, you forgot that you had some weirdo following you and proclaiming himself your 'brother'. You slowly walked over to your phone that had been dropped and slid due to the fight, hoping not to draw Choso's attention as he left the guy's face to a pulp, you silently crouched down, checking that, luckily, there weren't any scratches on the screen, with the same tranquility you got up, hoping to be able to continue without being noticed.

The blood that returned to your face left again as quickly as you felt a hand on your shoulder, you clenched your fist knowing that it wouldn't be so easy to get out of this curse's range of attention.

"Choso!"

Without time to react, the same hand that was holding your shoulder pushed you behind some garbage containers, crashing your other shoulder against the wall. You didn't allow yourself to let out a moan of pain because you recognized the voice that had called Choso.

"Mahito… do you need something?"

"No, actually I was just passing by, what's up with that guy?"

He pointed childishly and nonchalantly at the barely conscious thief on the ground, his entire face and surroundings splattered with blood as were the knuckles of his attacker.

"Nothing, I thought he had one of Sukuna's fingers, it turned out to be just a residue of his presence."

"Oh, that's a shame, at least I can have a new toy."

He stuck out his tongue, giving the 'peace' sign to his accomplice, you covered your mouth with your hands and closed your eyes as you heard the screams of pain and terror of the poor devil who had decided to steal you, his body contorted, deforming into a strange thing that Mahito devoured afterwards. You wanted to get out of here if possible without either of them noticing but it would be too difficult to do so, at least, you settled for Mahito not discovering you for the moment, but maybe you should think twice before.

"Oh, why is my favorite human trying to hide?"

You jumped in fear immediately as you came face to face with his sickly smile, taking a second to look behind him and see Choso's irritated face who seemed to want to spend time with you alone and not with Mahito involved.

The situation in which you least wanted to be involved, trapped with the greatest threats to your life expectancy, and not only because they could kill you just by touching your body, but because they exhausted your entire social battery exponentially, were, without a doubt, worse than being caught in a fight between Gojo and Sukuna, these curses would make you seriously reconsider whether life is really worth it.

The change from walking the streets of the city encapsulated in your own thoughts to walking the streets with two possibly precursors of human extinction was a huge leap, definitely something you didn't expect to be doing, if they gave you the choice, you'd rather be listening to everything Nobara had done in her training while Itadori fought for your attention, but here you were, holding Choso's hand because he was too paranoid of losing you among the people frequenting a crowded street while Mahito looked at all the stores like a child full of curiosity.

The truth is that you thought it was going to be something worse, you thought you would see a lot more blood, murders or something like that ─maybe today just wasn't the time─, after all these guys were considered the villains, however you swallowed your words when you even found yourself “enjoying” the rest of the afternoon, it wasn't much different than how the sorcerers treated you, they just dragged you around talking to themselves as you barely answered them or simply nodded or denied their words.

The sensation was so ordinary at this point that you felt like it was Nobara who was pulling your hand instead of Choso, you even noticed the same concern in his eyes when you tripped over your own feet because you were distracted.

When the sun began to set on the horizon, letting the cold tones paint the sky, you decided that you had to leave, you were not the only one who thought about it, although Mahito knows that he could use you to his advantage, he knew that threats Sukuna's were not things to play with, and he had already been warned once, he just watched from afar as Choso said goodbye to you, disinterested but without taking his eyes off your face, a smile beginning to appear on his face as he imagined the different ways in which to destroy that pretty face of yours, not for you, but to see the expressions that those who had so much esteem for you would make, just thinking about their expressions when they saw your death caused him an indescribable feeling.

"Send me a message when you arrive, don't take shortcuts and go through busy streets and ah- take this, it's starting to get cold, I don't want you to get sick."

Choso bombarded you with requests to get to the school safely since they couldn't get anywhere near there, you ignored the fact that he stole your phone to add his number and loosened the scarf he had wrapped around your neck since he pulled it too tight, just you agreed to all his requests in the hope that he could set you free once and for all, promising that you would send him over if some weirdo did anything to you.

You sighed in relief once you crossed a corner, losing sight of Mahito's amused gaze and Choso's distressed one, although your relief didn't last long when you bumped into a man's arm, not just any man.

"Here you were…" he took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes "Do you know the commotion you've caused by disappearing like that out of nowhere?"

Nanami looked at you with a slight frown, you shrugged not knowing what to answer him, he himself seemed worried enough about your whereabouts, his breathing was slightly accelerated and his usually neat hair had a couple of loose strands.

"I'm… sorry?"

He sighed heavily at your inability to understand everyone's concern, he took you safely back to the high school where everyone was waiting impatiently to receive the news from the blonde. Once there you were greeted by two pairs of arms clinging to you, Nobara and Itadori still not learning that thing about personal space, Megumi was simply scanning you, frowning at the scarf, Gojo remained silent, scanning your body for of possible injuries with the help of the power of the six eyes, he smiled to himself when he saw no scratches, but his face darkened when he saw traces of cursed energy, not just any cursed energy of course. He knew you were smart enough not to switch sides, so he should keep you further away from the idea of going out on your own again.

You narrowed your eyes as you felt his gaze on you despite having his eyes covered, he only greeted you with a giggle, commenting that you were lucky that 'Nanamin' had found you in time before something bad happened to you.

When the worry of the moment passed, everyone dispersed to do whatever they were doing before discovering that you were nowhere to be found, only you and Megumi were left in the room.

"You look exhausted."

Before you could figure out if you could sleep peacefully today or play chess another night with Sukuna, he began a light chat with you.

"Why would it be?"

You responded sarcastically, following the talk for a couple of minutes until you decided you had enough human or cursed interaction for the day, your bed was waiting for you and your tears had been trapped inside your eyes for a long time, you needed some comfort that right now only you pillow ─and sometimes not even that─ could give you.

[kaq3yma]

MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTER! sakura haruka.

syn: the royal princess nightly-meet up with an unknown man.

୨୧ qeena brief note: ello fellow readers and mootsies, i finally got to wrap up my vamp!sakura haruka x royal princess!reader fic yaeyyy, i'm happy i successfully finish a 4.6k words fic (in almost a month) lol i'm not built for this clearly but still a big special thank you to @flowerloves for this request. ofc it's a x reader fic but this was made specifically for you obvi and i love you sm, bae ur so understanding ilyyyy! i promised i will get this done in a week somehow but got caught up with assignments, tests and society club soooo lol i'm not a fast-adapter BUT i hope everyone enjoy this fic even though it's ass at some parts (especially the confession part) lmao i swear i did my best but lemme know what you guys think, that's all thank you, i love you, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated and happy reading xoxo 🍡

special tags: @flowerloves, @hanaeriin, @reapkusho, @isadollie, @kyuujo, @sommii, @amaderika

The night breeze sways in the middle of the night, carrying scents of the open ocean and waft pass the air gently. The faint caws and rattles of crows in the distance is the only noise you heard for the past ten minutes aside from your own square heels clicking noise against the shattered concrete pavements.

As you look back, the image of your castle almost fade into the background, growing daintier as you walk further inside the woods. It's a long walk for you, with unsure destination to reach, you keep walking until you can barely to.

You look for a place to sit down, and rest, or presumably to enjoy the book you've been cradling in your hands for the past minutes. Swaying your head left and right to find a suitable spot you can sit down on until suddenly you heard a rustling noise came from behind a bush. Gulping down a huge lump stucking in your throat, you drag your feet backwards to make a run in case whatever creature is in that bush that decides to cause a chaos, you'll have time to run but— a white bunny hop from the small space in between the bush and make its presence known. You almost jump in surprise, chuckling when the brainless creature tilt its head at you.

You watch the animal cradle his neck to the side before hopping away. Hoping to catch and bring the animal home with you, you ran after it only to lost it a few seconds later "Oh, no..." You look around, realizing you're no longer on your path. No concrete pavements beneath your feet but muddy textured ground. You grip the book you have in your hands, starting to feel scared. Why do you think going out in the middle of the night is a good idea again?

Not wanting to make the worse situation anymore worst than it can get, you came to a conclusion to just walk back where you came from, at least back where you believe you came from. You walk mindlessly towards directions you assumed was right, unaware you're walking deeper into the forest as the shadow beneath the trees darken casting an even longer shadow across the forest floor.

You take a deep breath, taking long strides hoping you would just escape this woods what seems like an endless maze. Tears set afoot beneath your eyelines and rush across your cheeks but you won't allow your emotions to take over just yet. You jog and jog with sweats starting to prominently appear on your face until you halt in your rushing steps.

A loud thunder burgles from behind a massive tree and you slowly drag your feet to inspect. The sight before you elicit a small gasp past your open lips. What seem like a serene oasis site in the middle of nowhere, its beauty strikes in contrast to the arid surroundings. Crystal clear water glimmer under the warm moonlight, softly rippling as a gentle breeze past through. What you felt a moment ago sink and disappear together with the welcoming passing air. Now, all that you feel mid centre of your heart, and in the depth of your tummy is tranquil and peace.

Slowly, you walk forward and sat by the cool water, carefully dipping your feet into the pool, wheezing at the cold touch of the inviting dew. You didn't realize how much time had passed, it's like you've only been there for a couple of moments but before long, you skim through the last page of the book you just started. Night seem to darken even further, and only then realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You are still lost. No matter how any more beautiful this place could get, you're still lost and in need to return home.

Sounds of footsteps scuff against the ground behind you cause you to jump in fear, knowing that whoever it was behind you, is most definitely not an animal but something else, worse, other people! "Please don't—"

"What are you doing here?"

You turn around, surprised to see a man, stood tall in his white ruffled shirt with dark trousers fit snugly and fall straight down. His hair, now that you grasped, is in dual color of black and white, neatly slicked showing off his flawless temple — well, not so flawless considering his face is batter up with bruises and deep gushes.

You look into his eyes, your own waver in fear of not knowing what to respond "I— I was—"

"This place is mine. You shouldn't be here."

You thrust your head down, fearful for your own safety. No matter how attractive the stranger is, the fact that they're a stranger and unknown to you is a danger as it is. You fiddle with the book in your hands, stuttering a sentence to form "I'm lost. I don't know how to get out of this place."

Instead of lunging at you like a beasty animal, you hear him gruff incoherently to himself "If I able to get you out, will you leave quietly?" Jerking your head up and down aggressively, you thank him profusely with a smile. He look away, fishing his hands under the front pockets of his trouser "Let's go, then." You plod behind the male, eyes glue to his back as he guide you out of the place.

"You're a princess, right?" That results you to stop on your movements, skeptic as to how did he know. He shrugs "I have my way." Huh...?

He let out a fake cough, gesturing you forward "There." You look up, relieved to catch a glimpse of your castle "Thank you!" Beaming, you look at him with a smile and chuckling in relief. However, once again, he look away.

"I'm going, be safe." With that, he walk back into the woods, vogue silhouette dissipate like snowflake in an ocean.

Sakura turn around just before you walk down the road and disappear from his sight. He look away, taking long strides back to where he belongs. However, further he went, the thought of you doesn't melt from his mind, the sight of your smile, not once but twice cause his stomach to flip, an unknown feeling rippled through his belly making his face go hot.

The next morning, you wakes up in bed, feeling tired and throbbing pain aches from below your thighs. It must have been the aftermath of your constant walking the night before. The door of your chamber burst open and came in the head of your maid. The old lady walk and stand beside you, helping you putting on a pair of flat slippers and guide you to behind the veil where you're able to clean your body using clean water and get ready. She get you your usual high-waisted skirt that reaches and fall to your ankles and a light color blouse which are slightly puff and tuck it in under your skirt and finally, she help you putting on another set of square heels and help adorning your hair "Your father and Her Majesty is waiting in the dining room along with Prince Choji."

The mention of your spoiled step-baby-brother and step-mother earn an eyeroll but you hum, allowing yourself out of your room and steps into the dining room. Your father, his Majesty sit at the other end of the table with his wife and son beside him on the left.

You look down, taking a quick walk and sit beside him on the right, facing Choji. The small feast begin but none of you said a word. For the rest of breakfast, the only noise made is the faint clanking sound of forks and knife against the plates.

You got up after you're done, bowing down and bidding good bye to his Majesty until he said; "What about to your Mother?" You stopped in your track, hands stiffled and face tight. You didn't dare look back but you said one thing, clear and loud "Her Majesty is not my mother. She's your wife."

You heard him slam his on the table, smashing his wine cup on the process and yell at you to get back but you didn't, and instead you pick up your pace and run to your room. After the echoing slam of the door, silence deafened inside your chamber. The dimmed-lighted room cloud over like a passing rain cloud, the once cheery room fill with laughters and bedtime stories now cramped with defeaning silence and darkness. You sat down on your bed, feeling as the soft mattress dip at your gentle force.

Sighing, you pick up that small frame from your nightstand desk. The image of your lovely mother dressed in appealing red dress cradling you in your light green colored dress. Your father beside her, one finger lock against your small grip. All are smiling, genuine and raw with emotions for their first complete family picture.

She shouldn't have die... If only they was quick enough, if only your father was quick enough to find the cure, your mother won't have to die. She'd still be here, and there won't be enough space in the picture for your step-mother and his son to waltz into.

You plop onto your bed, hang the frame in between your chest and hug it tightly. Closing your eyes, you hope for sleep and last night exhaustion to consume you.

Perplexed, confused and in disbelief by your own behavior to sneak out the castle once again, however this time prepared with a small map inside your pocket in case you got lost like last night and a lamp, lit enough you can make out the ground a few small inches before you.

Walking around the same path, you stop at a familiar bush you saw the bunny hop from, grinning to yourself as you think you're near. You bring out the map but only then you grasp no such thing as an oasis is mentioned in the map. You look around, determined to make it to the place you've been last night and then you heard that voice, that familiar husky voice "I told you to leave, didn't I?"

You turn around, facing the man whom helped you last night "I wanted to visit that place again!" Surprised by your sudden exclamation, he look at you with a quirk brow "That place is mine, not yours to loiter around."

You huff "This is a free land, not yours to claim." He grumbled under his breath, tucking his neat hair in between his locks and look at you "... Me..."

Now, it's your turn to quirk your brow at him "I can't hear you...!"

"I said, follow me." He pocketed his hand beneath his pocket and walk forward, purposely leaving the cemented path to mingle on an unfamiliar walk, presumably to the place.

"What's your name?" He didn't stop in his tracks nor did he said anything, a respond or something "Hello—"

"Sakura Haruka. You are that princess, right? Your Father rule Shishitoren." The sudden unneeded mention of your father make you groan in annoyance "Yes. How do you know?" He shrugs, stopping in his tracks "Is it not obvious?" What does he meant by that? He lift the leaves curtains in front of him, revealing the same place you've been dying to be at since this morning.

A small smile crept to your face, grinning and thank him for bringing you back here. A furious red hue spread across his cheek, caressing his paled complexion. After a moment, you sat down by the pond, legs dip into the the water. Sakura watch you from afar, his expression unreadable.

"Are you going to keep staring? Say something if you have anything to ask." He grin, showing off his pearly whites. He trudge beside you, but not to dip his legs as he just sat down, legs thrown into a criss-cross. You look at him from beside, your own eyes graze over every details of his feature, his pointy noise scratch and wounded, the side of his chin bruised and a deep wound gush on his cheek "How come you're more badly wounded than last night? Do you always fight?" He hiss in return of your words, clearly unappreciative of what you just said.

However, unlike how any other humans would react, he didn't react to your pressings on his wound, instead when your cold finger brush against his skin "I don't have anything but..." You pull a piece of napkin from the beneath of your gown pocket and dip it whole into the water "I can at least clean them." Sakura lean away, not very much fond of the idea at which you sighed, pulling him forward "Relax, you should at least clean it."

Starting with the long cut on his cheek, you dab the wet napkin over the lines to clean dried blood, patting the napkin to his wound to at least clean it. Yes, you might have not notice your close proximity since you're so immense on the taking care of the wound but he has. Sakura can make out the way your lashes blink as you close your eyes to regain focus on your vision. The way it hugs your cheeks, the slightest details he can see now because you're so up close.

Finally you look up but just as you did, your nose touches. It cause him to blush and you to flinch. You almost fall back in the water but he caught you just in time and pull you "Careful, moron!"

Dazed. Fixed. You are unable to say anything for a few seconds, blinking away flusteration. Regaining your composure, you cough out and look away. Oh, why is everywhere burning?!

"You should tend them properly. Make sure to bandage it up." He look at you, perplexed. You point with your finger to your own face "The wounds. You need to take care of it." It's a silly word, indeed is. A silly, meaningless word of concern but why is his heart is beating. So loudly he thanked the sounds around him for masking it.

This is a first for Sakura. The first he felt like this in hundreds years, perhaps, a thousand. Not once, never once did he feel like this, how can a stopped-beating heart thump anyway? Absurd! There must be some sort of mistake, that's right. A mistake. A coincidence that bound to happened.

The night fell and the day came. It's a repetitive motion for a month since he met you. That mistake. It turns out it's not so much of a mistake at all. Love. At least, that's what his friend, Nirei, told him.

Love... What a strange emotion.

Tonight, like any other nights, he wait by the oasis, waiting for you, like a shining beacon to come and just be here already. Sakura heard footsteps, familiar footsteps of your heels arriving. The leaves curtain lift and drop when you came, like an unfamiliar sunlight, you shone the place loom with darkness and shadow for him.

You greet him, and in your hands there's another book for you to read together. You stopped in your track, tilt your head and give him a strange look "You've been fighting again, have you?" The male huff, crossing his hands together.

You climb the rock he's sitting on, site your place beside him and bring that same napkin you bring every night "You really should stop getting into fights, you know?" You scolded to which he only scoff and laugh at. As always, whatever you say went to his right ear and slip to his left, whiff into the air.

"Haru, I'm serious..." That made him stop, he grunt something incoherent in your ears but you questioned no more, getting the hint that maybe, he finally decided to listen.

"I got this book from our library today. Want to read it together?" Yeah, how can he ever deny your request? Nodding his head, you immediately begin skimming through the pages to start reading.

"Haru." You suddenly mentioned in between your reading and he hum, allowing you to begin again "Where do you live? You never tell me where you live." He freeze, not knowing how to answer your question. Right, you didn't know. About his being, his true beings. Who he is, what he is. How could he tell you? Would you... Would you look at him the same...?

"—Ru. Haruka." He flinches, giving you an unreadable expression. Reluctantly, he shake his head, a silent plea for you to stop mentioning whatever you just mentioned.

You wanted to say something but bite it back, hum in understanding and said nothing. He slipped this once but he can't be so sure next time. Sooner or later, if he truly cares, he needs to tell you.

And it's been a week since then, you stopped coming for a while as you're busy preparing for a banquet your father are hosting for his fellow friends. You didn't quite get to mention it to Sakura as it has been rather a last-minute plan. It makes you wonder if he ever look out for you during the past days.

Whilst you're helping your step-brother picking a suitable attire for the night, you subconsciously replay to your conversation the previous nights. Up until today, you are still wondering, interest to know where he live. He knows where you live so it's only fair that you do to. What is he so hesitant about anyway?

The night resume, the small banquet lit the night and laughters fill the entire ballroom. Everyone is either engaging with each other or indulging themselves and as for you and Choji, it's always the latter.

When your father, his wife and his friends arrived at your table, everyone is obliged to be silent and let them have the talking. You didn't quite intrigued to hear whatever they're yacking about, well, not until your step-mother mention marriage. It's only fair or you, now officially nineteen, a damsel in distress, and also the next one in line to be married.

You hope, hope to dear God your father would say something, anything to drop the topic but all you can see he's doing was nodding his head. Almost dropping your utensils, you thrash your head in displeased. Both your father and his wife, along with the other parties turn to you, shocked.

"I'm not getting married." You stood up but your father words caught you in your trance "You leave, you mustn't come back." Your step-mother look in between you and your father, fearful expression contorts on her face.

"Must you do this, Father? Forcing me into marriage with someone I barely knew?" You hear him grunts, motioning for you to take your seat. At this point, hot tears has gathered and if only Choji didn't secretly hold your hand in reassurance, you would've flipped out.

That's right, you have to learn to control your temper. There's so many people tonight in this room, you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself and be label as the 'disgrace to royalty'.

Endured a painful hours long of discussing, you finally excused yourself after they did. Strutting back to your room, you locked the door behind you and cries silently. All you ever wanted, at least right now at this moment, is the warmth of your mother.

You locked yourself away for the entire night, and not once did you give away your ego when your father knocked on your chamber door multiple times moments ago. When the clock strikes twelve, when the shadow aligns, you carefully make your way out of your room. The entire castle is pitched black, unable to see, you discreetly bring a lamp with you.

The raw wind blows on your face when the door opens. Nobody is around and silence is the sole melody plays throughout your journey to the woods. You hope you can find him. You need to find him.

As soon as you arrived, a vogue silhouette of a familiar someone greet you by the rock. He's slouching, eyes closed with a subtle troubled expression on his face. You tip-toed near him as quiet as possible, wish to surprise him when all of a sudden "I know you're here."

You yelped, almost throw the lamp off if not for him to catch it on time. He laughs at your reaction, he won't tell but he find it somehow endearing how you look so surprised and shocked. Sakura soft laughter died down when he look into your eyes, your usual bright eyes and slightly, very slightly dull. Your cheeks is red as we as the tip of your nose. It's like you've been crying for hours long.

"What happened?" You smiled, telling him it's nothing and that you are just tired. Sakura was usually dismissive, he rarely feel a thing so he never bother to check up on others but, the sight of your dried-teary face. Surprisingly enough, it make his heart ache. If that was possible, of course... "You are not tired. You cried."

You thought washing your face is enough to cleanse the evidence but it seems not. You take a sit beside him, a visible long sighed escaped past your open lips.

"My Father forced me to marry..." He lift his head up, tracing your skin with his eyes "That so..." Sakura seem to have not notice it but you're starting to look back, you stared back at him as he continues to stare mindlessly. He only realized when he move his eyes upwards and you stare back at him, smiling but bewildered.

Normally, he would freak out, turn his head away but not now, he keep staring into your eyes. A furious red creep up to his cheeks and he can hear your heartbeat thumping loudly against his ears. On impulse, he bring his hand forward, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His skin make touch to yours and it send a chill down your spine. His hands feel cold, inhumanly cold.

He cup your cheek using one hand, gently bring your face forward as he too, leans in and kiss you. His lips is cold too, too cold but it's not making you uncomfortable. You return his kiss with a small sigh of relief. Being this close with him for the first time ever, you can make out a faint mint smell radiate in the air. Sakura move his hand down to your waist, pulling you gently closer to him as the world outside seemed to fade into the background.

When you break of the kiss, Sakura finally look away, coughing out nothing in embarrassment "I... There's something I need to tell you but I'll tell you tomorrow." He look into your eyes, silently pleading "Can you come again?" Smiling at him oh-so brightly, you nod your head in agreement.

"You cannot do this to me!"

"Yes, I can. Especially when you misbehaved like this and sneak out the castle every night!" The guards push you in and throw you on the ground "Reflect what you've done and until then, you will stay in your room." Getting up, you storm to the door only for it to close before you and your father lock it from outside.

Planting your ear on the door, you can hear their quiet pleas, both your step-mother and step-brother, begging him to unlock the door. He said nothing and his large footsteps descend downstairs. You tries to take a deep breath, voice breaking in silence "Don't do this to me, please..."

It's been hours, perhaps a day, and during that time, you slouched against the door, wiping what you thought was the last tears only for a few to rush suit. It's a struggle to regain composure but when you heard footsteps outside the door followed with small steps of a certain someone's skipping, you got up slowly.

"Princess..." It's her voice, the voice of someone you always believed was vile and pretentious. The door creaks and gently push open.

You saw the Queen peeking behind the door, scared she'll get caught but Choji stood there, both hands on his waist as if he was proud to help, to rescue you. You turn to both of them, a silent gratitude expression plastered across your face "I—"

The Queen put both hands on your shoulders, crouch down eye-level "We both got many untold things to share so go, and come back fast. We'll be waiting..." She hope to share a quick hug but she's aware it's not yet a good time so she watch you leave, running downstairs and escape the castle.

You race to the forest, the sun barely set but it's almost dark. The weather is clouded over and it seems like it's about to rain. Pick your dress over your ankles, you hurry, praying to meet him at the place. Hurriedly lift the curtains, your vision immediately drawn to a familiar man. He wear what you remembered he wore the first time you both met. The white ruffled shirt and his signature dark trouser "Haru..." You didn't quite make out his face but you can tell it's scrunched, like a hurtful look. Why would he look at you with such look, you wonder...

"Where were you? We were supposed to meet yesterday!"

"...I waited."

You clutch the bottom of your dress, pained and frustrated "I'm sorry, it won't happen again." You make a move, walking towards him and slowly begin to put your distance to a closure "You said there's something you'd like to tell me. Can you tell now?"

His whole body tensed, Sakura jerk his head aside with a bitter look still on his face "Moron, what makes you think I forgive you so easily—"

"Haru, I promise I have my reason. I promise I will tell you after you do." It's not short, nor is it easy to make him spill whatever on his mind but he's determined to tell you everything. Gently and carefully, he pick your hand up, that inhumanly cold hand of his brush against your much warmer ones.

"Would you... Would you leave me if I'm not who you thought I was?"

"Haru, what do you—"

"I'm not a good person, there is a truth that dwells within me, a shadow that clings to my very soul. It is a truth so monstrous that I fear you may never look at me the same again."

He wish not to lie to you anymore, let it be the end of your sweet meet, he wish to be honest with you once and for all "I'm not a person, I'm a vampire."

Your eyes widen, a slow gasp elicit past your open lips. To say you are shocked is an understatement, you are beyond speechless, nearly forgetting how to breathe and swallow back "H— Haru..."

"I don't wish for you to stay. You may leave if you wish. I just— I thought I'd be honest for once," He look down and stare into your eyes, and for once, his usually hard stares mix with a tinge of vulnerability "Especially to whom I like."

He close his eyes, unable to see you leave his sight. His fist bawl tight that his paled skin turn out paler. His eyes widen as he accidentally lets out a loud gasp of surprise when you suddenly tackle him into a hug "What are you—"

"If you are to be a monster, the darkness, let me be your light, Haru — as long as I'm not your next victim of thirst..." Giggling, you secure your arms around him, nuzzling your face against his chest. He almost let out a laugh but instead he smile, so big it radiates the sun to shine within the dark night.

"You still owe me an explanation." You hum, quick to take an understanding why the hands of the man you like is always cold, so, very inhumanly cold.

[tojisbestslut]

[ Curiosity killed the cat ]

summery: having to explore an abandoned mansion because of a dare with your friend, what could go wrong?

characters: Toji Fushiguro, Geto Suguru, Gojo Saturo

warnings: DARK, NON-CON, waterboarding (somehow), getting caught, escape attempt, bone breaking, screaming, no smut.

word count: 1132

part 2

"it's not even an scary dare I'd say, the house has been empty for years." your friend complained as she was trying to crack the lock with a crocked hair pin. you held the camera up for her taping the whole process, to have a proof of actually doing the dare to your friend group.

"I'm telling you right now, I'll be leaving the first moment i don't feel safe" you mumbled under your lips as she was scolding you to get the angels right. "such a kid you are" she mocked and ding, the door was open. you anxiously licked your lips and took a step inside the to be supposed empty house. it was full of luxury and expensive furniture all over the place and the face that none has been stolen by random thieves or troublesome teenagers sent a shiver down your spine. why'd people ignore this house?

you took small steps following your friend behind as she was curiously exploring every drawer freely. something didn't feel right, you had no idea what, but something was so fucking off. "hey um, I'll be waiting for you outside alright?" you tell your friend as you hand her the camera. she chuckled at how you were being a chicken and shrugged her shoulder, continuing to look around the house. you turned around and head to the exit, biting your lower lip from the sudden anxiety rushing over your body. what was this fuckin feeling, you kept wondering. as you arrived at the front door, the basement door that was stuck on the floor caught your attention. it was fucking open. you frowned and your heart beat started rising, were you not alone? you could swear it was closed the moment you entered. your body kept drowning in fear as you leaned slightly to look inside, only to suddenly get snatched by your ankles and being pulled in the basement, someone covering your mouth and the door getting closed before you even got the chance to scream for help.

fear, all you could feel was fear. fear of the unknown man covering your whole face with the palm of his hand as you could feel the coldness of the huge metal rings he was wearing. you kept trying to wiggle around and free yourself but it was no use from how strong the grip from his other hand was on your stomach, holding you to him. you tried to take deep breaths but it was hard to do from how tight he was covering your face. tears began to slowly run from your eyes as you realized there was nothing you could do in that situation, only being in the grip of a man you didn't even know, slowly crying.

"bruh, did you really leave?" you hear your friend yell looking for you as she was laughing at your scared ass leaving so soon. hope started to rise up again in your heart after hearing her voice calling you out, you started to struggle and kick around and tried to make some noise, but it all came out as muffled crying. you still couldn't see anything from the man covering your face, and your friend was really starting to think that you just left. your body goes limp as you hear her car engine start off and she starts driving away, the sound of the tires fading away as a drop of sweat drips on your back from the fact that you're now completely alone at the unknown man's mercy.

"stop it Fushiguro, no need to silence her now"

a second man speaks with a happy tone, you could tell he had a big smile on his face. the Fushiguro named man drops you on the ground at his legs, making your head hit it hard. you whince from pain and squint your eyes from the light suddenly hitting them, but it was soon taken away by 2 other figures standing right above you and covering the light, creating a shadow on your lying figure on the ground. Fushiguro sits on his knees right above your head, his tights and crotch covering your view of the ceiling. you instantly attempt to crawl back out of between their legs but the white haired men immediately steps on both of your hands, not bothering himself by trying to lower the pressure of his legs whatsoever.

the other man, having long black hair thrown magically around his shoulders, spills the drink he was holding right at your face in a slow pace, immediately silencing you as you tried to talk your way out of the situation. you coughed and gagged as you tried to move your head to get out of the direction the drink was flowing, but Fushiguro kept your head in place by putting one of his hands on your forehead, forcing you fo fight for your breath while the other man was pouring the liquid at you in the slowest pace possible known to man.

after what felt like eternity, the drink was finally finished. you coughed violently and tried to get the drink out of your nose as Fushiguro still held your head in place. your whole face was wet and sticky, as tears were running down on your cheeks. Fushiguro was looking at you with lust, like he wanted to devour you but the white haired, the way he was looking at you with no emotion in his eyes as he was putting all the pressure in his legs on your hands, looked like he just wanted to genuinely hurt you. the long haired man was just smiling with his eyes, looking the most trustable men among the 3.

"h-hey im- im s-sorry, i di- didn't wan-"

you tried to apologize, to do something for yourself, with the last bit of hope you still had. but your mumbling turned into a scream as the white haired man puts the last bit of pressure, breaking a bone in your palm. you screamed bloody as your shoulders were shaking from pain and fear, while Fushiguro was still holding your head. the sound of your bone breaking got lost between your screaming and you couldn't sense your palm anymore.

after a good amount of crying, he backs off and finally leaves your palm alone, as the two other start to get away too. the light is into your eyes again and you turn around, putting your knees in your stomach and hugging yourself, the trail of your bloody palm creating a pattern on the ground. you sobbed as you heard noises from the background. turning your head around, you saw the white haired man holding a chain in his hands with the biggest smile, his blue eyes glowing in the most terrifying way.

TAGS:

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Teddy anon here and thought about something else lmao! Imagine if at some point...y/n from the mini series...showered with affection...meets the beasts. Like they catch wind that y/n is around aaaaand they sure as he'll aren't gonna want to be kept out of the party. Cue y/n waking up to taps on their window and the beasts peeking in like: "hello, y/n! I know this looks bad but we brought treats as a bribe for your silence...now would you like a puppet show while lounging on a cloud? I'm sure you'll love-burning spice keep quiet! The cookies are close by! Do you WANT an awakened golden cheese to kick your but again and cut our visit short? Anyway, what do you say, y/n?"

I ought to start making a master list of all these stories because even I'm losing track of them. Anyways, one part of os SWLAA coming right up!

Previous part

Showered with Love and affection pt 4

Y/N cookie was stuck staring at the beasts for a moment in shock. Then they looked at the treats. Than the beasts. Than the treats.

Then they're sitting on a cloud with the beasts watching a puppet show orchestrated by Shadow Milk cookie. Eternal Sugar cookie is cuddling into their side and Mystic Flour cookie is leaning on their other side, her closed eyes causing confusion as to whether she's still awake or maybe fell asleep. Burning Spice cookie, despite the constant warnings to keep quiet, kept yelling at the puppet show when he found it getting too boring without action, causing Silent Salt cookie to punch him in the ribs.

The night was pretty fun. The beasts were all pretty nice to you. The treats were a good bribe and you almost fell asleep with them with how cozy they had been keeping you. When you did though, they tucked the sleeping cookie into bed and left. The next morning when Y/N cookie woke up they were greeted by an unfamiliar cookie.

"Hey Y/N cookie. You can address me as Lav for now. I came here as a messenger from the other staff. You've got a donation of treats and gifts from a few unknown cookies. Be sure to check them out when you leave your room."

Y/N cookie, seeing that they were just a messenger, nodded. They wonder who donated all those treats and gifts.