#okay now i can finally use tags again without fear of people finding it

[leighsartworks216]

You make me feel like a fool (Waiting for you)

Sylus x gn!Reader

Thank you @comatosebunny09 for encouraging me to keep writing this fic!! I'm really glad I was able to finish it. That being said, I have not proofread it at all so lmk if something is weird or messed up 👍

Title from "Fool" by Frankie Cosmos

Warnings: fluff, light angst, kissing, sleepiness, literal sleeping together, established relationship, cuddling, injury, bruises, soft + kinda clingy Sylus

Word Count: 1,418

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (fill this out to be tagged in future fics)

You’ve been away on mission after mission for almost an entire month. You have had no time to look at your phone; any spare moment you can find goes toward sleeping or eating a protein bar. Messages go unread and unanswered.

When the day finally comes that you get to go home, you have to put what lingering remnants of your energy into remembering how to live in your apartment again. You’re battered and bruised, worn to the bone, physically and mentally exhausted. It’s all you can do to drag yourself all the way to your bed before you pass out, fully dressed and all.

You wake up to insistent knocking on your door. You have no idea what time it is. It could be extremely late, or absurdly early. Time is a concept for people who can process it, and you definitely cannot.

You stumble, wincing the whole way, to the door. The knocking is really starting to give you a headache. You’d be shocked if it didn’t wake anybody else up.

You’ve barely unlocked the door when it’s being shoved open, and suddenly a mouth is slanted firmly over yours.

Sleep vanishes for the moment to provide stark clarity to what’s going on. The flurry of white hair and the leather gloves that hold your face assure you that this isn’t some random guy off the street. Sylus’s lips press against yours desperately, passionate but not heated, like he needs to just feel you there. Before you even get a chance to respond, he pulls away. His hands fall from your face in favor of holding your waist. Red eyes scan your body, latching onto every inch of exposed skin; he frowns deeper with every bandage and bruise he sees.

“You look like hell, sweetie.”

You blink up at him. “So, you’re just not gonna tell me what that was all about?”

You catch a glimpse of a smirk as he turns away to shut the door, clicking the locks into place to play off the rampant energy that vibrates in his entire body. “Mephisto said you got back. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Some check-up,” you giggle. He faces you once more with a soft grin. How he missed that sweet sound. “Is my mouth okay?”

“With that sharp tongue of yours? I never had any doubts.” He lightly touches a butterfly bandage on your forehead, observing the cut underneath. “The rest of you could use some attention.”

As the fear of his entrance wears off, the exhaustion begins settling back in. You’re suddenly aware of the tremble in your legs, the weight of your arms, and the chill in the air. You hum noncommittally as you lean into his body for support. He hugs you to him without question. “What time is it?”

“Almost 9 in the morning,” he answers. “You didn’t notice?”

He rests his cheek on top of your head. His hand cradles your neck, affectionately thumbing at the baby hairs there. You feel more of the cold apartment air as he lifts the hem of your shirt (definitely not suitable for sleeping in) to reveal more of the dark purple marks littering your body. He covers it back up when he feels you shiver.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime…?”

“All the more reason to take you to bed. Can you walk?”

You nod against him. His shirt is cold from the drive. He smells like gasoline and open roads, undoubtedly from riding his motorcycle. You smell like sweat and disinfectant. A shower is not feasible right now when you’re so precariously two seconds from collapsing.

He gently pries you from his body, just to turn you around and tuck you against his side. His arm wraps around your waist, trying his best - and failing - to avoid your injuries as he keeps you standing. He leads you deeper into the apartment. “How much time off did they give you?”

“Couple weeks, I think.”

He scoffs, sounding offended. “Ask for more time. They’re going to bury you in the ground if they put you back into the field so soon.” With all the familiarity of someone who lived here - as opposed to someone who’d only been allowed to visit enough times to count on one hand - Sylus pushes open your bedroom door and helps you over to the bed.

You wince as you slide under the covers. He supports your back to ease some of the pressure off your spine, and slips it out from under you once you’re laid down. You sigh heavily. “I didn’t break anything this time,” you mutter.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Your glare is harmless with the exhaustion dulling your eyes. You watch through the growing haze of sleep as Sylus strips off his jacket, boots and gloves, leaving them in a pile by your desk.

“You’re gonna sleep in those pants?”

He chuckles, smirking at you as he rounds the bed. “I figure we should both have some modicum of discomfort, given you’re still in your uniform. Besides,” he continues as he slips under the blankets, head propped up on his elbow, “I wouldn’t want to give you any ideas with the state you’re in.”

You giggle stupidly. You can’t be embarrassed right now. Your blankets block out the cold air as you draw them weakly up to your chin. Your pillow cradles your head just how you like it. And if you shift your legs a foot to the side, you bump into his, that tangle and trap yours, socked feet keeping yours warm.

“What if I asked you to kiss me like that again?” Your words are slurring with exhaustion. You’re fighting to stay awake, to keep looking at him even though he has no intentions of leaving anytime soon.

“Any time, sweetie,” he answers surely, seemingly unaffected by his own sleep schedule catching up to him. Not that you could tell in this state, anyhow. “Just say the word.”

You flick a smile back his way. “Right now?”

Sylus’s smirk is softer than usual as he adjusts his body to lean over yours, arms on either side of you to keep him from crushing you under his weight. His face hovers just over yours, the perfect position to admire you in.

You can barely keep your eyes open even a sliver, and here you are asking for him to kiss you again. If you were conscious enough to feel his heart since he stepped into your place, you’d be amazed over the effect you have on him.

Truly, this month has been agony. He knew of your missions, knew why you weren’t answering his messages, and yet each day stretched on into an eternity just waiting to hear a word from you. When Mephisto saw you get back, he’d, frustratingly enough, been in the middle of important negotiations with the territories surrounding the N109 Zone. He would have been here much sooner if that weren’t the case. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have been so overwhelmed with relief when you opened the door that he could have contained himself behind a smirk and a teasing remark.

Though, if that were the case, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

“Of course,” he whispers.

Your eyes slip closed when his face gets close. His breath caresses your skin as he watches the flutter of your eyelids, as he gently kisses your upper lip. That minor caress alone draws out a quiet sigh from your mouth. It’s an addicting sound, reaching deep into his chest and strangling his rapid heart.

Your lips part, welcoming him in further. He breaths his own sigh, trembling at the edges as he finally allows his eyes to close and fully slots his mouth with yours again.

It’s languid this time. There’s no need to rush, no need to let his desperation or fears take a hold of him. He adjusts his weight to cup your jaw with one hand, to greedily keep you there, to selfishly steal more time to savor the warmth of your mouth and the heat of your body beneath him.

He pulls away slowly, reluctantly. He opens his eyes again, and chuckles to himself.

You’re fast asleep. Maybe you have been since he first leaned in, or maybe it was in the middle of the kiss. It doesn’t matter. He brushes his nose against yours with a smile, then leans down to brush one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Sleep well, kitten.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy

[http-tokki]

Okay? Okay.

~ levi ackerman x reader ~ tags/cw: angst, blood/gore, levi always checks over your odm gear before missions ~ wc: 760 ~ "I wanna make sure you're safe, okay?"

Levi kneels before you as he tightens the straps of your harness. Deft fingers pass over the leather, slipping below the straps, testing the tension and strength of the new buckles. It isn't as if you are incapable of strapping yourself in; you have done this over a thousand times, but there is a new mechanism within the buckles that only a few people knew how to work correctly, Levi being one of them, and he was not about to risk your life over a new piece of metal.

"Levi, I think I can finish it," you offer as his hands slide toward your hips. "Just show me, and I can do it."

He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to yours. "I want to make sure they're secure." Silver eyes bore into yours, something soft and vulnerable hidden within the cold steel. You run your fingers over his cheek, curling them behind his ear.

Levi leans into your touch, eyes slipping closed for a moment before he kisses your palm. "I wanna make sure you're safe, okay?"

His voice is so soft and small. He sounds so fragile, so human. "Okay?" he tries again, fingers tightening leather again. His cheek is still cradled in your palm, and you don't think he will move it until you answer him.

"Okay, Levi"

Levi watches as the leather snaps. Watches as you are sent hurtling toward a tree, watches as you flail in desperation before accepting defeat against gravity as you brace for impact. Levi hears you scream his name before the sound of cracking bones as you hit the thick trunk. Levi sees the blood, then your body tumbling to the ground, limp and unmoving. He's flying before he can think, your name a cry on his lips as he propels himself towards you. Trees and leaves a blur as his vision hones in on you, the entire being focused on your body, scanning for any signs of life. His feet hit the ground so hard his knees scream in pain, but he pays them no mind as he sprints towards you. There's no movement from your body, no breathing or groans of pain. You're just lying there, still and quiet, as if you were a part of the forest, as if you had always been ageless and living among the foliage but weren't living. Levi finally reaches your body, calling out to you as he turns you over, but you aren't there. There is no life behind your eyes as he calls out to others. No, this wasn't supposed to happen. This was meant to be a simple exercise; you would come back home, have dinner, and then go to bed, and everything would be okay.

"Sweetheart, you're okay; please wake up." Levi reaches out and pulls you into his lap. "Come on, you need to wake up now."

His hand strokes down your face, blood starting to drip from your nose as he pushes your hair back from your face. "Please, love, wake up," Levi whispers, ducking his head. "I can't do this without you, please."

Levi doesn't hear as Hange approaches him, their hand on his shoulder startling him.

"Levi, they're gone," Hange whispers, kneeling beside him. "You need to let us take them, okay."

Levi shakes his head, holding you tighter as Hange tries to loosen Levi's grip. "No, they're okay, and I'm not leaving them. I can't."

"Levi, please. Let go."

"No! Just give me some time, and they'll be okay. We'll be okay, and everything will be normal. Okay?"

"Okay."

Hange nods and pulls back as Levi starts to sob. The forest is silent save for the broken cries of a man who has lost everything.

Levi startles awake. His eyes fly open as his heart pounds against his rib cage. He is in his bed, the sheets warm from the morning sun, fire dwindling to embers across the room. He reaches out, afraid to look, and finds nothing there in fear his dream is reality, but he is met with warm sheets and then the sound of clutter in the kitchenette, and his mind and heart instantly calm. Levi takes a deep breath in, the familiar scent of your perfume fills his senses, and he is calm; he is ready to face you and tell you about his nightmare.

"Sweetheart, I know you don't like hearing about them, but I had the worst dream, and I need to-"

Levi's voice fades as he sees Hange standing in the doorway, holding two cups of tea.

"I'm sorry, Levi."

a/n: Please don't come for me with the stupid fault in out stars title please, i couldn't think of any other title. TT

[rogueddie]

Established Relationship Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 💌

love confessions in line

steddieas_shegoes

“Why do we have to be here so early? My dinner hasn’t even digested properly yet,” Robin complained.

And, okay. It was cold and there were a lot of people standing in line outside of the only Walmart carrying the very specific guitar amp Eddie wanted. He’d called every Walmart in Indiana. Multiple times.

But he had to go all out for Christmas this year. Eddie had already said he’d gotten Steve something he’ll never outdo, never even believe. Obviously, that meant Steve had to do better than the Metallica hoodie that was stashed in his closet for the last four months.

Words : 1,369 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Guts

AnnetheCatDetective

After a difficult visit from his parents, Steve relearns loving his recovering body. Just knowing he's wanted the way that he is isn't enough... but getting outside of himself might be.

Words : 2,578 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

fixer-upper

mourningshowers

Steve wakes up the morning of their two-month We-Finally-Got-Our-Shit-Together anniversary to find Eddie staring at him, crouched over at the foot of the bed with his round unblinking eyes like a fucking gargoyle. It should be creepy. Steve is used to this, though, so now it’s just kind of a thing that Eddie does.

“What,” Steve says groggily, wiping the drool from his mouth.

“Nothing, angel, go back to sleep,” Eddie trills.

Words : 20,596 Chapters : 3/3 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

your electric touch

sourw0lfs

“Don’t move! Whatever you do, Eds, do not fucking move!” Steve hollers from his spot in the doorway.

Without a question, Eddie freezes, eying him with a questioning gaze. He’s standing somewhere between the pool and the house, trying and failing to find what has so much fear working its way into Steve’s face.

“One of the lines just snapped and fell,” Steve explains, eyes on the area around Eddie but never directly on him. “Right into the puddle.”

Words : 1,093 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

if i ain't got you

vampbites

He shuts the fridge and turns around to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, letting out a quiet sigh. Eddie’s back is turned to him so he can only see the movement of his shoulders as he scrubs the dishes harder than he ought to.

He’s still pissed, then.

Words : 1,425 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

The Photo File

Crowgirl

‘When were you going to tell me?’

Words : 1,633 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

Stimming

hotluncheddie

He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing.

So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space.

Words : 2,547 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

checking it twice

cranberrymoons

“Hi,” he says, and – fuck. It’s only been a couple months, hasn’t it? How is he already –

“Hey,” Eddie says. His smile matches Steve’s as he comes around the counter, slinging a dish towel over his shoulder as he goes. He catches Steve around the waist. “You look nice tonight.”

Words : 661 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

The Cat

digitaalbe

the one where Eddie Munson finds a cat, and then he keeps it.

Words : 1,538 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences

AO3 : x

Dustin Henderson vs The Apocalypse... Probably

writteninthewolfstar

Dustin wakes up from a movie night with the Party to find he's all alone in Steve's house. With no other logical explanation, he must conclude that he is the only person left on the planet... Until he goes upstairs to find something even more horrifying-

His best friend making out with his Dungeon Master!

Words : 1,620 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

[nekoannie-chan]

Lost communication

Lost communication

Title: Lost communication.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Brock Rumlow X Reader.

Word count: 391 words.

Square: 5 “No response.”

Rating: Teen.

Summary: Your communicator is broken.

Additional tags: This is my entry for the @fandom-free-bingo Valentine’s edition.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

Gunfire echoed in the distance as you hid behind a destroyed wall. The mission had gone horribly wrong, and to make matters worse, your communicator had broken amid the chaos. You knew Brock would be trying to contact you, and you hated being unable to answer him. He always told you how important it was to maintain communication, and now, you were cut off on the battlefield.

On the other hand, Brock was losing his mind. He was pounding on the operating table in the barracks, his jaw tense as he tried again and again to communicate with you. The static sound he received in response only increased his frustration and fear. To him, you were more than just his mission partner; you were someone special, the person he couldn't afford to lose.

“Damn it, answer me!” he growled once more.

Every minute that passed without hearing from you, his mind filled with worst-case scenarios: were you injured? Had you been captured? Or worse?

You knew Brock would rescue you, but time was running out. Bullets whistled near you as you cautiously moved forward, looking for a safe place to try to repair the communicator.

Brock, in the barracks, could wait no longer. He grabbed his equipment and, against the orders of his superiors, set out in search of you. He had to find you at all costs.

Minutes passed that seemed like hours before you finally managed to repair the communicator enough to send a message.

“Brock... I'm fine. Just... stuck.”

 “Where are you, I'm coming to get you right now,” he asked as soon as he heard you.

“No, I can get out on my own,” you insisted, though deep down you knew he wouldn't listen to reason.

“Like hell, you can't. I'm coming for you. Don't disconnect again.”

And, just as you had predicted, Brock didn't take long to find you. When you saw him appear, covered in dust and before you could say anything, he grabbed you by the arms, inspecting you with his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“Yeah, just a scratch. The communicator broke.”

He let out a snort, pulling you to him in a tight hug.

“I thought I lost you,” he murmured against your hair.

“I'm right here, Brock. You won't lose me that easily,” you whispered back.

“You'd better,” he said.

[disregardcanon]

i couldn’t tell you why, but i was thinking about merlin in the shower this evening and some of my main Problems with it. warning, under the cut is me ranting about the stuff i don’t like about merlin, which i haven’t watched in three and a half years so i might not be right on the details. warning for salt and foggy memories of a show i haven’t seen in three and a half years 

when thinking about merlin, the main problems that come to my mind are

the rapid speed of morgana’s character “arc”. one moment she’s season one morgana, passionate, caring woman fighting for the rights of those around her then BOOM she’s Evil. i don’t remember there being much of a progression

parts of it are really confusing and muddled (might just be that my memory is getting bad because it’s been so long but i remember a lot of the plots jumping around kind of nonsensically) 

the tone problem. the first season has a bright, fun, happy tone which WORKS for the subject matter but as the seasons progress, that tone becomes less beneficial. 

the black and white morality. the narrative cuts uther pendragon breaks left and right as he slaughters people for practicing magic and for only having the ability to, then cuts arthur breaks for being an asshole, going along with his father’s way then outright perpetrating it himself because he’s Arthur and he’s ultimately a Good Guy and the Once and Future King so it’s cool he can do whateves he wants. merlin grows darker and darker in his pursuit of protecting arthur and the narrative excuses it every time because he is the protag and is doing it for the Greater Good. morgana, meanwhile, is turned into a heartless, crazy villain while she should have remained a sympathetic one. 

the thing that i feel the show failed at most was making merlin and morgana proper foils. morgana wants to bring about change, no matter the cost and no matter the risk. she’s the armed revolutionary with an understandable and righteous motive. the narrative could have shown her going too far in pursuit of these goals and maybe losing sight of where the line is and of her former friends, but it would have been stronger if she remained a sympathetic figure fighting for her cause. merlin, by contrast, is... i don’t know what the right word for it is. maybe the apologist? the race traitor maybe? merlin has lost sight of the plight of both his people and himself in his pursuit of making arthur king and keeping arthur safe (arthur, arthur, arthur), whether this is because he believes arthur will save the world or because he just loves arthur is up for debate, but the show always frames merlin’s viewpoint as Just. supporting arthur wholeheartedly is what needed to be done. if it would have allowed merlin to be the HELLA gray character that he was by the end of it and embrace that moral ambiguity between him and morgana then we would have gotten this amazingly ambiguous conflict. both sides are arguing that the ends justify the means, they’re just trying to achieve different ends through DIFFERENT means (both of them wrong for different reasons, one trying to shatter the status quo and the other trying to preserve it wholesale). and with heroes and villains that look that similar you could get into some really interesting talks about human nature and conflict and oeaprjadfdasf it could have been great 

the themes, like the tone, were all over the place. 

a lot of the narrative wasn’t cohesive, but i’m trying to cut it slack for being a tv show and how tv shows don’t always know how long they have to tell a story and have to make do. they did, however, build a mythos that felt too big and felt as though it collapsed in on itself. i can’t tell if this was because they thought they were going to get more seasons or if they just pulled a moffat and couldn’t fulfill on the promises of the narrative. 

i feel like gwen’s character had a lot of missed opportunities and was very angry about how much of s5 was spent with her having literally no agency. i also didn’t think that she and arthur really clicked but that might have been the merthur glasses. i’m not exactly gonna deny that i shipped that a lot and still do

[fillinforlater]

Can we hope for that Pile-driver Minguri ?

BREED

A Collection for a Special Date: Part I

Male Reader x Kim Minju

Length: 1115 words

Tags: pile driver, daddy kink, birthday sex, hard sex, sub!Minju

TW: QUICKIE. UNEDITED.

(A/N: Happy Minju Day! This will probably the Part that most people will enjoy, so it will be released at 00:00 KST. I salute everyone who finishes all three parts evil smirk)

“Daddy…”

“Yes, my baby girl?”

Minju fidgets in her seat next to you. Her trembling hand makes the fork she is still holding onto vibrate. For her birthday, you prepared a delicious meal, only the best meat, potatoes, soup, kimchi sit on the table. Minju is your girlfriend after all, the most beautiful, kind-hearted girlfriend, one can wish for… although, of course, the word ‘Daddy’ implies that something different is going on now.

“C-Can Daddy like… t-take… me—I don’t know how to say this.”

A couple of weeks ago, you would have shifted your chair next to hers, hugged her tightly, maybe gave her a peck to calm her down; she is obviously struggling after all. Every part of her impeccable frame falls victim to the fear, embarrassment or whatever causes her shaking.

But after both of you had a very, very deep talk, things have changed. Minju calls you Daddy, and you call her baby girl. When you two are alone, she acts helpless and submissive, while you are stoic and dominant. It’s what she loves and it’s what you love. And part of this game is your seemingly harsh reaction to her stutter.

“Baby girl, you got to talk to me like a normal human, if you want an answer. Don’t you dare believe, I would make every of your wishes come true, while you just mumble incoherently!”

The final shout breaks something in you. Something tells you that you should never, ever treat a girl, let alone your girlfriend like this. The excitement, however, and knowing how aroused she feels, give you confidence to push through.

When you stand up from your chair, a dismissive gaze resting on the empty plate before you, Minju’s panic grows significantly.

“I-I’m sorry daddy! I’ll try again, o-okay? I’ll be a good baby girl, I promise!”

Each of your steps towards her is drawn out and powerful. It makes her quiver just a little more. Minju should know her place, which is of course below her daddy. You finally reach her and reach for her chin. Grab and squeeze it, not too roughly, though. This is not about punishment after all. It’s about showing control.

“Then try again, baby girl. What did you try to say?”

An audible gulp. The brunette beauty braces herself for another wave of whatever torments her right now. Beneath whatever it may be, there is a deep, unquenched lust. You see it sparkling in her eyes and feel it in her heavy breath.

Finally, Minju leaps up, moving towards one of the couches. While slowly removing her tight jeans from her jiggly, fat thighs, she tries her best to keep her composure—a moan still slips out.

“C-Can Daddy please, please, f-fill me u-up in t-this—ahhh—position? Please, Daddy?”

To your disbelief, Minju basically dives into the carpet, her eyes never leaving yours, as she rests in a perfect pile-driver. Although her gorgeous upper body is still covered by a black piece of clothing, her ass, thighs and exposed fuck hole—all higher up than her flushed head—make you go feral.

Without an answer, you immediately climb onto the couch and in between her legs. Minju uses her hand to bend them backwards more, effectively showing off her completely shaved, soaking pussy to you. The only thing stopping you from tearing off your trousers and plowing her into the soft, white carpet floor is a sudden urge to tease.

Two fingers find their way into the wet opening, as you groan playfully: “My baby girl: Your request for Daddy was not enough, it sounds stupid with your stutter.”

Minju struggles to keep her moans under control just with your two skillful fingers twisting inside her. How in the world should she be able to fulfill your order? Well, your baby girl has some surprises for you…

“Please, Daddy! Give me a birthday-pile-drive! Fuck me into the ground, please! I need your cock, only your cock. Please, Daddy! I love you!”

Your trousers don’t survive another second, as you annihilate them with sheer hands like an animal does to its prey. And like an animal, you ram your cock into the fertile woman below you, making her thighs ripple and her tongue fall out.

Minju turns into an unrecognizable mess instantaneously—but she definitely is a happy mess. Her orgasms are going to be harder, quicker and better than ever before, as you kiss her cervix with your length. It is certain, it is predictable, yet still insanely exciting. Each unique part of her velvety insides is well-known to you, but from this new angle—plunging in and out from above—it feels more intense than you could have dreamed of.

Your Daddy-persona gets a slight crack. Hums and groans of pleasure leave your lips unintentionally at the tightness you penetrate faster and faster. Your fingers grope at her flawless, smooth skin, so hard in fact that red marks will later remain on her legs and ass. Tiny beads of sweat form on the pale perfection and you can’t help but slap at the moist lair.

“Daddy, harder, please!”

What was that? You already pound her at a neck breaking pace, with the power of a hundred horses, yet she still asks for more? Minju leaves you no other choice than to go beyond every single one of your barriers. No more restraints, just a full-on fucking of her delicious cunt.

With small hops you use the seemingly insurmountable force of gravity to fulfill her plea. A thumb circling her clit also helps in pleasuring out the rest of her mind—and yours as well. While skillfully teasing her G-spot, you feel your end cumming. The cream in your balls is ready to fire into her.

But without any warning, Minju’s shrill, lustful screams fill the room—as does her slick, warm Minjuice. The climax makes her rigid and almost fall over to the side if it wasn’t for your cock holding her down and ejaculating violently into the scorching heat of her convulsing walls. Your satisfied sigh is inaudible because of all the other, way louder sounds of skin slapping and girl moaning, but why should you care.

You pull your hard cock out and the final rope of your load lands on Minju’s delicious thighs, marking them white over red—the imprint of your dick layering over the imprint of your hand. Minju’s angelic face is pure… pure satisfied lust, as she grins through her pants.

“Thank you, my Daddy. I love you so fucking much!”

“I love you two, baby girl. My Minju.”

What a way to love her…

[spilledkauffie]

Game Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.2k T/W: fluff A/N: Part 2 of Bingo — a few months later

I am SO SORRY this took me way longer to post than it should have!

Bucky Tag List: @anreeixcobra ❤︎ @tsnelf7 ❤︎ @fandom-princess-forevermore​

It was Friday night, which meant one thing: Game Night. Ever since Yori introduced you at Bingo, you made it a tradition in your relationship to play board games on Fridays. For the most part you kept it to fairly modern games, but tonight was going to be a surprise.

Tonight it was your place, 8 o’clock. Bucky showed up with a six pack of root-beer in glass bottles. You added a few to the fridge as he found his usual seat at your apartment table. He waited for you to round the small apartment’s bar and join him. Sliding the glass bottles across the table to Bucky, you smiled, biting in your bottom lip, as he slid your bottle back, now without its top.

Easily he popped the top off his own bottle with his left hand; it was as he was about to take a sip that he caught sight of your look, “what?” he furrowed his eyebrows, questionably. 

“So. . . tonight,” you tried not to giggle.

“What?” Bucky asked again, this time finding himself following your smile despite his will not to.

“Tonight is going to be special,” you clasped your hands together, “because I found some stuff that’s as old as you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Bucky said sarcastically, taking a sip, shaking his head, blinking softly as he saw you rush to convince him it would be fun. Sighing deeply, he gave in, “alright, what is it?”

“I’ll be right back,” you twirled on your heel and left the room.

Returning to shaking his head and the glass bottle, he paused after settling the bottle on the table. It’d been a long time since anyone cared about anything actually as old as him. He’d been pretty good at keeping up with the times, a lot of things he knew just got an upgrade, but the thought of something from his actual childhood felt a little heartwarming. 

“Okay,” you declared, reentering the room with a stack of vintage boxes in your arms that made Bucky lean back in his chair out of shock, “here we are.” 

His jaw dropped a little at what you had brought out as you set the stack on the table. Watching you take a deep breath and exhale with a smirk, he shook his head, this time silently asking “how?” You set your hands atop the stack, rapping your fingers across the top box as you smiled again. 

Smoothing your hands out across the box top, you cleared your throat, “no peeking,”  bringing Bucky’s attention entirely to you. 

“Option number one,” you held up the rectangular shape with severely faded letters across it, “Scrabble, released 1938.” The box very gently met the table, “option number two,” you looked at him attempting not to giggle as you saw him cross his arms over his chest, genuinely listening to you intently, “Sorry! released 1934, Battleship, original pen and paper game,” you clarified, he lifted his eyebrows, impressed, “and last but not least, Monopoly, released 1935.”

“Wow, you uh- you really did your research,” he commented, looking over the stack of authentically vintage boxes.

“Of course,” you shrugged with a smile, “my boyfriend’s 106, if I want to bring back some childhood nostalgia, that requires some research. . . and late hour ebay bidding in our case.”  

He nodded, a faint smile showing, before it faded with his next words, “I hope you didn’t do too much research on me,” he looked up, hand resting on Monopoly.

You calmly slid down into the seat across from him and stared with a kind smile still on your lips, reaching to touch his hand, you stroked your thumb against his knuckles, “I’m more of a first hand account, direct source, kind of girl when it comes to people,” the corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. 

You knew, just not everything, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to have another living soul know it all quite yet. Luckily, you were someone who seemed to actually understand that.

“Or,” you announced, lifting a pointer finger, as if requesting a pause whilst you went to a nearby drawer, returning with a much smaller box, “we can get really really old school, even for you” the box met the table top, “standard 52 card deck, English edition, circa 1516. . .obviously not original.”

Bucky chuckled, looking to you, tonguing his cheek, before picking up the cards, “I hate to tell you, but that’s just a little before my time,” he squinted at you, teasingly.

Biting your lip, your shoulders shifted with the giggle that came after his comment, “so, come on,” you sat back down, this time with your elbows on the table and hands laced, to support your resting chin on top of them, “what should I beat your butt in?”

“Oh,” Bucky, attempting to appear insulted, began raising his eyebrows, “you think?”

“Yeah,” you laughed your words while looking at his serious face, “I think, better yet, I know.”

“Well, I don’t know where you get your confidence from. You know you are talking to a local senior Bingo night champion,” he shrugged with a head tilt, as if that was supposed to be a big deal.

“Woooow,” you drew out, smiling uncontrollably.

“But,” he sighed, “okay,” he shook his head once, accepting your challenge, “let’s go, you’re on! Monopoly,” he brought the box towards himself as you set the others on the floor next to your chair.

You watched as he picked up the little metal pieces, examining each one individually. There was an expression you’d never seen before, he was remembering something positive from his past. A memory that sparked a smile that you helped bring about. He surveyed the board, with all its bright colours and familiar street names.

“It’s been-” he paused, looking upward, doing the math in his head, “it’s been 85 years since I played this game,” setting each piece he stopped at the boat, laughing to himself, “you know, Steve used to always be the battleship.” 

A soft smile came across your lips, while you watched him remember exactly how to set it up. You picked the Scottie dog and he picked the vintage race car piece.

“Were you always the race car?” you ventured, wanting to know more about his childhood, you knew he didn’t talk about it often.

“Oh,” he glanced to the piece he had just naturally picked up without a thought, “yeah, well, I think,” he gave a quick, but somber smile, before clearing his throat, and actually looking up, “and my sister, whenever she’d actually manage to get mom and dad to let her stay up with us, she’d always be the thimble,” he leaned back in his chair, smiling, “whenever it was her turn to move she’d put it on her finger and hop it down the street names.” He leaned back to the table, “we never made her go to jail, even if she landed on it, Steve would make up some rule that let her skip it.” 

“That’s really sweet of you guys,” you said, looking softly at his smile.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “but don’t think you can skip jail,” he changed his tone, preferring not to dwell on the past even if it was positive. 

“Don’t think I’ll be visiting,” you smirk confidently, “better watch out for the money man yourself.” 

“Wow, who is this?” he dropped his jaw, “she’s so sarcastic, does Yori know this side of you? Do you sneak jellybeans under the table or something evil like that?”

Laughing, you took your root-beer, “just give me my $1,500 so the smack down can actually begin.”

Two hours later, after a long battle between Boardwalk, control over the railroads, and many, many visits to jail, you sat back, lips quirked, arms across your chest as your little Scottie sat in jail.

“And three thousand, six hundred, and five. . . I’m sorry, but that leaves you,” Bucky set his elbows on the table, wincing at you, “bankrupt.”

“Fine,” you huffed jokingly, giving your best pout,“you win.”

“Aww, c’mon,” Bucky reached out a hand to touch your forearm comfortingly, accompanied by a smile you couldn’t deny.

“You wanna go again?” You offered seriously, resting your hand on top of his tenderly, happy to see him so happy.

“It was really fun, but let’s play something else, this time you pick,” he offered.

Breaking into a smile, you gave a nod, and he asked what you had in mind. It took a moment, you wanted to make this good, and you wanted to see it be a little more of a struggle for him, if you were honest. 

“You know, I know it’s later than your. . .original timeline, but there’s this fantastic game called Twister,” you smirked, perking an eyebrow to ask if he was up for it. 

“Twister?” He repeated you, tilting his head like a confused puppy, “what’s Twister?”

“I’ll show you, but,” you glanced over to your small apartment living room, “we might need to arrange the furniture a little.”

“Don’t worry,” Bucky stood, “I can handle that.” 

Smiling, you stand, “okay, just push it all to one side, I’ll get the game.” 

Ten minutes later, shoeless, you both stood looking over the polka dotted sheet on the floor. Nodding happily to yourself, Bucky shook his head almost in fear. 

“Make sense?” You asked, having just explained the very simple rules, you turned to face him.

“Oh, I’m sorry I asked,” he sighed, shouldering off his jacket and tossing it onto the couch along with his glove, “yeah, it makes sense,” he set his hands on his hips, pondering this new game intently. 

“Okay, you first,” you held up the spinning arrow, and began.

One hand and foot at a time, sometimes struggling to reach the spinner, but you both made it work pretty well. Having kept to one side of the sheet, it came time to get a smidge more twisted.

Bucky managed to keep balanced and spin a green dot with his left arm, conveniently it placed him right over you. As he began to reach for green, he carefully calculated how best to approach the green dot in order to keep his balance. It was a pretty far reach and he’d need to balance himself whilst reaching over you. 

“What’s the matter old man, can’t quite move like you used to?” you shamelessly giggled. 

Raising his eyebrows at your tone, “ohhh, wow,” Bucky said sincerely, finally placing his left arm over you and to a green dot, now above you he tilted his head sassily, “respect your elders.”

His last sentence only made your giggle turn into a genuine laugh. You closed your eyes and threw your head back a little. Admittedly, Bucky thought it was funny too, but he didn’t laugh, he just took in your smile and the sound of your laugh, enjoying every single moment of it.

When you brought your head back up, you were about to respond sassily, but instead you found his lips meeting yours. With a small squeak of surprise, you relaxed into the kiss, glad that he was finally confident enough with you to take a chance now and then. He tasted like vanilla root beer, which mixed wonderfully with the scent of his cologne you were finally close enough to smell. 

It was soft and slow at first, but slowly, with his right hand palming the arch of your back, you eased into his touch, lower back almost meeting the floor as you both sunk down a little. You completely forgot about the game, as you reached your arms around his neck gently. Keeping the kiss close, you felt him hesitate to deepen it, so you gave him a small sign of encouragement, by moving your hand to the side of his neck, naturally bringing him even closer. 

You had no idea how long you’d been there, on that polka dot sheet, but it was such bliss that you didn’t even care. Smiling into the kiss, you felt him smile back. 

Parting, he pressed his forehead to yours, “I win,” he whispered, lips in a smile. 

“What?” was all you could ask, still mesmerised by the kiss. 

Bucky motioned his head to his left arm which happened to have been keeping the two of you steady. . . all the while remaining on the green dot. You dropped your arms from around his neck, to the floor, elbows supporting you as you looked up at him, shaking your head. 

“That does not count, Bucky,” you tried not to smile as he kept his arm as still as possible.

“What? But my hand’s still on green,” he dramatically gestured to it, making you bite your lip to repress a giggle, trying to match his seriousness.

Shoving his chest directly above you, he feigned an ‘ow!’ before you softly pull him closer again.

“If I kiss you are you gonna hit me again?”

You smirk, “I might if you don’t.” 

Bucky smiled, lips almost touching yours, “alright, sorry,” he smiled, voice almost a whisper as his lips brushed against yours, “I’m still learning the rules to this game.”

[dracowars]

Really love your draco ficsss 🤗🤗🤗 i was wondering if you can make one before the war where draco obliviated reader then looks for her after the war aaaa would love to see your take on ittt tag me

remember me | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,8k

summary: where draco obliviates y/n

a/n: while doing research for this one i didn’t even know that when you use obliviate, you can’t reverse it anymore if you’ve used the wand for another spell :o i guess you always learn something new lmao @belladaises i hope you like it! <3

warnings: angst, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Footsteps and screams echo through the dark corridors of Hogwarts as Draco finds himself in one of the hallways after apparating there mere seconds ago. Getting to the right place at the right time, he immediately gets hold of some of the Slytherins, including his friends, whom he pulls with him, informing them about his – or rather Lord Voldemort’s – plan. Draco knows what he has to do, but he also knows the consequences his actions will have.

His hands are shaking, and he is having a difficult time to breathe after they walked from one side of the castle to the other, wands drawn and always at the ready in case there are any emergencies or incidents on their way. What Draco did not expect, however, is that he will find you along his way.

With a pained expression on your face, you lean against one of the cold brick walls, about to lose your footing and to fall to the ground when Draco is already at your side and catches you in his arms before you can hit the hard floor. Previously, he quickly ordered Blaise and Goyle to move on without him and wait for him until he is done here. Carefully, Draco sinks to the ground with you and places you close to him in order to be able to take a closer look at you.

“Y/N! Y/N, what happened?”, he asks you with concern in his voice and already reproaches himself internally for not being here to fight by your side. But he knows that he can’t. After all, you are on the opposite sides in this terrible war.

Slowly, you raise your head and do not seem to recognize him at first, until your vision clears, and you look directly into his worried face. You immediately push yourself closer to him, his closeness bringing you some calmness and making you feel protected and safe, although walls are blown up around you while wizards and witches give their lives in the bitter fight for Hogwarts.

“D-Draco? You are here”, you breath out, your voice rough and strained from your previous screams. You had split up into groups to face the Death Eaters, but you were separated from them when a part of the ceiling fell down, several pieces burying you beneath them. The hope that is now reflected in your eyes upon seeing him, here and with you, breaks Draco’s heart. You really think he is on your side.

It is only when you groan in pain that Draco realizes that you are clutching your leg, which is covered in blood.

“Come on, I will get you out of here”, he whispers to you and helps you straighten up, the guilt plaguing him. You are badly injured, and he was not here to prevent you from getting hurt. Carefully, he puts your arm around his shoulder so you can move faster together than if he would carry you. Since it is not anything than safe here right now, Draco hurries to get you out of there as fast as possible.

“It is not as bad as it looks. I promise”, you try to calm him down, but once your foot touches the ground you twitch in insufferable pain and pull your foot back with a hiss, your hand immediately going to your tigh where it hurts the most.

“What happened?”

“I was careless and then a part of the ceiling buried me beneath it.”

The shock on Draco’s face is enormous when he realizes what could have happened, how it could have ended with you laying under masses of bricks with no one knowing. That he could and still can lose you in this bitter war for life and death. Briefly, he carefully inspects your leg – broken – and without any hesitation, he picks you up in his arms and carries you to a safer place. The safest place would probably be where all students, who do not fight, are hiding, but if Draco asked you about it, he would have to pass this very important piece of information on. And thus, he would also leave you to a terrible fate.

“You are safe here. For the time being”, he finally says as he places you at the end of a staircase that no longer leads to where it originally should, and kneels down in front of you, stroking his hand over your cheek lovingly. Shaking, you place your own on top of his and press his palm to your skin to feel its warmth.

“Draco, if we make it to the seventh floor then-“

“Do not tell me. Please”, he almost begs you. His pleading leaves you puzzled and slowly but surely makes you doubt why he is actually here. Gently, Draco takes your hand in his and places a delicate kiss on your knuckles. You sadly watch him until you bring up the courage to ask this one question that burns on your tongue.

“Why are you here, Draco?”

The realization hits you like a train, much more painful than the pain in your leg, when he just looks at you with glassy eyes and fails to give you an answer. Tears well up in your eyes when you notice that you no longer have your loving boyfriend in front of you, but your enemy.

“Why, Draco?”, you ask him desperately, the first tear already finding its way down your cheek, but Draco does not have the heart to look into your eyes, too scared to see the pain and disappointment in them. Sighing, he shakes his head, letting it sink.

“Everything will be fine, I promise”, he manages to say while his heart contracts in pain. Suddenly, he perceives voices that are still far away, but he hears them coming closer. With trembling hands, he reaches for your wand, which is sticking out of your boot as he has made his final decision. Confused, you look back and forth between him and the wand in his hand.

“What are you going to do? D-Draco? You do not have to do this”, you stutter out as he looks directly at you with his gray eyes which seem much darker now. Gray eyes that once shone with so much affection and now only radiate a tremendous coldness that makes you shudder.

“Now listen carefully to what I say, Y/N. You have to promise me that you will not use your wand anymore”, Draco explains to you, but you can only look at him speechlessly while tears run down your cheeks in waterfalls, not knowing what he will do next.

“I am so sorry”, is the last thing he says to you before casting a spell. “Obliviate.”

With these words, Draco pulls any memories you have of him out of your mind. Every shared laughter, every shared grief, he frees you from all of it. He frees you from the burden of ever knowing him.

With one quick movement he puts your wand back in its original place and quickly stands up, watching how your face loses all emotion as you abruptly stop crying over nothing. Before he can regret his decision, he turns away from you and looks into the corridor from which he previously heard the voices. At the other end of the corridor, he discovers Neville Longbottom, who is running through Hogwarts with some students. Clenching his fists, Draco walks in the middle of the corridor, facing them from afar.

“Neville!”, Draco shouts as loud as he can, immediately gaining Neville’s attention, who now comes running towards him with his wand drawn, ready to attack. Draco swiftly runs back to where you still lean against the wall, but just as Neville turns around the corner, Draco disapparates to another part of Hogwarts.

You are safe at last.

════════════

Surrounded by nothing but rubble and ashes, Draco wanders through the last remains of Hogwarts alone. His clothes are torn apart, and his face is soiled – all signs of the bitter fight that took place here before. But now it is over. They lost.

But Draco does not care who won or lost. He chose to switch sides in the end anyway. All he wants now is one more thing: to find you and to make sure you are okay. Every time he trips over a lifeless body on the ground, he looks away in fear that he may recognize your face in one of the corpses. Pressing his hand against his aching left shoulder, he walks into what is left of the Great Hall and a glimmer of hope builds inside of him as he recognizes Neville standing in the middle of it.

Quickening his pace, Draco walks towards him, his gaze fixed on the people he is currently talking to. When Draco gets to them, however, his heart sinks and panic pervades him as he does not see you. You are not here.

Desperately searching for any signs of you, he looks around, his pulse getting faster by the second, until Neville finally taps on his shoulder and points to somewhere behind him. Draco turns around immediately, only to see you limp into the Great Hall with the help of Ginny Weasley, improvised stabilization around your broken leg.

Tears of joy well up in Draco’s eyes and he cannot help but run up to you and close you in a tight hug that almost knocks the both of you off your feet. Draco exhales in relief, clutching his arms around your fragile body, glad to hold you in his arms again, until he notices that you are trying to push him away.

Realization his Draco and he abruptly moves away from you.

“What was that supposed to mean?”, you ask him reproachfully, irritated as to why Draco Malfoy almost suffocated you in a hug.

“I- Well-“, he stutters, but the fact that you actually do not know him anymore is driving an ache through Draco’s chest again. “Where is your wand?”

“Excuse me?”, you huff out, the confusion evident on your face, but Draco quickly reaches for you wand before you can react, which pokes out of your boot, as always. Internally praying that you listened to him and did not use it when he was not by your side, he reverses the Memory Charm and watches a white streak touch your temple, piercing through your skin before vanishing completely.

You blink once, then a few times rapidly, adjusting your eyes to the light and when your gaze falls on Draco, tears well up in your eyes right away.

“Thank God”, Draco sighs in relief and hugs you tightly, but this time you actually return the hug. Weeping, you claw your hands into his shirt, your tears wetting the fabric, whispering what an idiot he had been and that he should never do this to you again. But at this moment nothing else matters.

You survived and found each other again despite the difficulties and obstacles. And from now on nothing and no one will separate you again. Ever.

[honey-milk-depresso]

Vice Dorm Leaders: S/o who is insecure about their vitiligo (1)

HAHA- SO UM- I found this in my drafts and completely forgot about it ;-;;;; BUT HERE I AM- Yeah I just added this part- :///// I was too lazy to tag and eventually forgot about it- until now-

According to google, vitiligo is a skin condition in which the melanocytes, the pigment cells of the skin, are destroyed causing affected areas to turn pale. I just want you to know that you are beautiful no matter what! Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise! Hope you enjoy! ^^

(Trey, Ruggie, Jade)

Trey Clover

Trey always wondered why you want to wear a mask and long sleeved clothing. Basically clothes that cover your entire body. Don’t you feel stuffy wearing them? Do you feel comfortable???

You always told him you’re okay, and he didn’t question afterwards. Maybe it’s just fashion choice, and he doesn’t judge. He just wanted to make sure you don’t feel itchy.

But the first time he made for you something (the marron tart event before Riddle’s overblot), you told him that you rather eat in private. He didn’t suspect anything at first, merely letting you do so, 

but then he notices how frequently you missed or forgotten to take your meals when you’re alone, and that you just refuse to take down your mask to eat in front of others.

Now he was starting to get worried.

Trey would then resort in giving a gentle approach, he doesn’t want to be bold and just force an answer out of you, he would never do that.

During one break time, he’ll pull you aside. “S/o, can we talk? Someone more private maybe?”

Trey brought to a secluded area, he still spoke in a soft tone as if there were still people around just to make sure it really is private between you two. He looked at you with soft, amber gold eyes, “Is... everything okay? You keep forgetting to eat. Why don’t you like eating in front of others?”

You were taken aback, and Trey could tell you were hesitant about giving him an answer. He rubbed your back in soothing circles, calming you and telling you to take your time.

You eventually took of your mouth, showing him the pale patches on your skin, explaining how you don’t like anyone seeing your vitiligo, in fear of them judging your appearance. He frowned upon seeing how ashamed you look. He took a hold of your hand, now seeing the very faint mark of a pale patch. He rubs them gently in circular motion, looking at you with a soft gaze as he placed a tender kiss on one of the pale patches that etched on your cheek, the warmth of his hand spreading across your cheek. “S/o... please don’t think your condition makes you look weird that you don’t eat in public and then you forget to eat on your own. I think you look fine the way you are, honestly.”

Nowadays, Trey follows you every break time, as he’s there to encourage you to take off your mask and eat in public, and soon to take off your mask wherever you go in general.

Anyone who snickers about how weird you look would be met by his golden, sharp glare, enough to warn those who are smart enough. If not, he’ll tell Riddle and it’s off with their head. He just wants you to know you’re beautiful the way you are <3

Ruggie Bucchi

At first, he didn’t really thought about much. He just thought that man, don’t you feel stuffy wearing masks and covered clothing wherever you go?? Even during PE and in Savanaclaw? Well, if you said you’re fine, Ruggie wouldn’t think much of it, thinking you just have your own taste in fashion. He doesn’t judge.

But then, when he cooked for you for the first time, you told him that you rather eat it in private, and your excuse being that you savor food better on your own. Ruggie frowned. You tell that to your peers whenever they offer you food. He didn’t expect you to give him the same treatment.

Again, Ruggie decides to dismiss it and respect your choice, letting you do what your comfortable with. But he starts to notice your habit of forgetting to eat afterwards when your alone, and that you sweat profusely under the hot sun of his own dorm and you refuse to take of your mask and sweater.

He’s gotten worried, and he was sick and tired watching your health deteriorate. Ruggie gotten impatient on what he suspects your hiding something, and he wants to know so he can help. The boy legit climbed up the tree of Ramshackle, which a strong and thick branch spread out to your room’s window, opting to bust through the open window. “Yo, s/o.” “R-Ruggie?! W-what are you doing here?!” You were startled, and Ruggie looked at you with serious eyes. He notices your mask was lying on the coffee table, and he finds you scrambling to get the nearest pillow to cover your face. He frowns, walking up to you.

“S/oooo, what are you hiding?” Being the Savanaclaw student he is, he was much stronger than you, taking away the pillow. You immediately set up a last resort defence, putting your hands up to cover your face. He got frustrated, trying to rip your hands apart, resting his forehead on yours.

You gasped, shocked and flustered by the sudden contact and he took advantage of it and uncovered your hands, revealing the pale patches that spread across your face. He was shocked, as were you.

“D-does it hurt?” he questioned, now grazing his hand carefully on the skin without pale patches. You meekly shook your head, “No, but... I just look weird, don’t I?” you whispered, looking as if you were about to cry, leading Ruggie to frantically comfort you. “H-hey... I didn’t mean to. I was... just worried, and also I just thought those hurt, not that you look weird. And you don’t at all!”

Ruggie thinks you’re just fine the way you are. Anyone during recess when he accompanies you, if he hears a snicker or whisper about how weird your vitiligo makes you look, he will really hiss and eye at them with a threatening glare. He’ll make sure you’ll be confident, and he would be there for you every step of the way. <3

Jade Leech

He always wondered why you wear baggy, long sleeved clothes and pants and masks all the time. You don’t feel uncomfortable or sweaty wearing such? If you said you were comfortable, he would doubt a little, but will dismiss it and allow you to do as you please, the thought would still linger in his head, however.

Jade’s scepticism would rise further when he cooked for you a special meal the first time he brought you to Monstro Lounge alone. he usually leaves food for you at Ramshackle, knowing you and him would be really busy. 

You told him you rather eat alone, and he wasn’t convince about the excuses you gave, but nonetheless, gave you a kind smile and heeding you words, but decided to observe you.

He notices how you frequently forget to eat by yourself when you return to Ramshackle, and how exhausted you look when your under the hot sun during PE, and yet refusing to take of your mask and jacket. He was worried, and highly suspicious. Your his s/o after all; your health and wellbeing is most important to him.

Jade decided to approach you like how Trey would; gently and less direct and bold unlike Ruggie. “My dear? May I speak to you in private about something? It’s something rather important that I wanted to share with you,” he says, flashing his charming and soft smile. 

Bring you to a quiet and secluded area, he finally spoke. “S/o... why is it that you refused to take off your mask even when you feel so uncomfortable? Are you.. hiding something perhaps?” As much as you love Jade, you can’t help but feel nervous when he asked you that all of a sudden, and he feels your uneasiness as you timidly shuffled your feet.

He coos, gently soothing you with a gloved hand on his shoulder as he gently coaxed you, telling you to take your time and tell him what’s going on.

You murmured, “I.. I look ugly..” He raised an eyebrow, quite shocked and confused about what you mean. “Darling, how could you say that about yourself? I think you look fine, my dear?” You looked at him hesitantly, before you peeled off your mask, revealing the pale patches of skin that flowered all over the bottom part of your face.

“I... yeah. I know I.. I look so bad...” he immediately takes one of your hand, holding it. The other hand held you cheek and wiped a tear that had threatened to fall from the corner of your eye, warmly rubbing a pale patch.

“Oh darling... you’re not ugly at all. You look wonderful, and you should care more about your wellbeing rather than your appearance, although I think you look splendid,” he whispered, using a gloved finger to gently caress the pale patch on your cheek with a loving gaze.

Oh, and if anyone dares to just make fun of how “weird” you look during lunch time in front of him, or when he makes you feel more confident to take off your mask, will receive a “personal chat” from Jade, maybe tossing Azul and Floyd into the fun, and they won’t ever think of uttering a single thing about how weird your vitiligo make you look. <3

[silversatoru]

Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

[leviiattacks]

Seven minutes in Heaven with Physics Major Levi

author note :: i lost the ask but anon i do not know what this is. reading it sounded better in my head but physics major levi with reader who likes him is that a good description???? HM ANYWAY enjoy it’s not too great i’ve been revising nonstop for exams but i might as well have finished this off for the anon who requested it :-)

word count :: 2.5k probably... hm who knows maybe 3k

when you and levi become friends it’s definitely unexpected to say the least. everyone is naturally very confused by the peculiar pairing. levi doesn’t really... go out of his way to befriend anyone really??? so for him to approach you in the middle of the library and start talking about how he noticed you shared a class together was out of the ordinary

the flow of the conversation is a little awkward at first, you’re revising for a final exam and don’t really appreciate the disruption but you’re not confident enough to tell him to leave.

at one point an awkward silence drifts between the two of you until he points out you’ve completely RUINED your notes and have been looking over the wrong lectures for the up and coming physics exam

later on into the night levi’s stood sighing next to you. he tells you to take your pick from the pot noodle section — “hey, i know we literally just met but i’m telling you a chicken pot noodle is gonna make you feel better.”

you’re so distraught that he has to pick it up for you and pay

and that is how you and levi become friends !!!

if it’s of any relevance yes you passed the final (all because of levi giving you his organised binder full of notes and telling you to make use of it)

you know it just sorta happens but through all of the all nighters you’ve pulled with levi by your side you become used to his presence nearby. in fact most of the the time it’s difficult to even find you anywhere without him. you’re both practically joined at the hip

levi’s pretty protective of you, hates the whole party scene but is willing to tag along if you’re going. at first you think it’s because he feels more comfortable stepping out of his comfort zone if you’re there with him but his intentions become more evident later on

any time someone makes you uncomfortable he’s by your side, if you happen to get into any sort of trouble he’s the person people call to help you because who else knows you the way levi does?

currently you and levi are at another party, you tend to keep to yourself and only ever talk to your close friends. it’s also not like you to partake in games, you’re far too nervous to play anything like seven minutes in heaven but for some reason you find yourself wanting to take part JUST this once

maybe it’s the fear of never making fun memories to tell your future children about

then again why on earth would you be telling your children about your experience kissing a random man in a closet??

either way, participating shouldn’t hurt!!! you’ve got to loosen up a little!!!

levi’s a little surprised you agree to play nevertheless he still sits next to you, the both of you have your legs crossed on the floor, your knees are touching and you aren’t sure if he feels the same warm sensation that you feel. it bubbles in the pit of your stomach – you feel oddly content

“levi!! anyone you want the bottle to land on ???” hange a mutual friend of yours leans in handing him the glass bottle

levi gives the bottle a disgusted look before his gaze flicks over to you.

“i’m only here because of y/n, i ‘m not playing.”

that doesn’t satisfy hange and they begin to groan complaining that he can’t stay unless he spins the bottle

“look you don’t have to do anything in the closet, okay??” hange’s begging him at this point, he’s still holding up pretty well and for some reason you’re disappointed. it’s almost like you hoped he’d spin the bottle just so it would land on you

levi takes notice of your frown and guesses you want him to be included, he isn’t one for games like these but if it’ll make you happy so be it. there’s still the chance it’ll land on you and his thought process falters for a second.

he thinks he really wouldn’t mind if the bottle landed on you and so he ends up nodding and agreeing to play.

anyway it’s not as if he isn’t guilty of imagining the two of you being a little more than friends

ok wait!!!! it’s completely innocent HE SWEARS!!!!

he’s never told you about it but sometimes he thinks if he was a little more straightforward that day at the library and asked for your number MAYBE just MAYBE his intentions would be clearer and he wouldn’t be stuck in the friend zone for this long

he should’ve used a stupid physics pick up line he knows you love those

something like – “i’m attracted to you more than an electron’s attracted to a proton.”

or maybe — “i’d fall for you even in the absence of gravity”

ok... maybe you wouldn’t have got that one considering you were revising the wrong content and probably forgot about that topic

he can’t imagine himself saying those things but if it would make you finally see him as a potential love interest and not a best friend he wouldn’t mind having to force it out

but still it’s not really a secret that levi has a soft spot for you, literally everyone can see it. when has he ever gone out of his way to save a seat for anyone? when has he ever willingly gone to a party? WHEN has levi actually let someone lay their head on his shoulder??

he only ever let’s you do that stuff

let’s actually discuss the head on his shoulder thing!!!

whenever finals approach you’re always sucked in by huge amounts of work and barely get to sleep, levi’s always hovering over your shoulder reminding you to catch a few hours but of course you don’t listen. you think you’ll be just fine if you rely on an energy drink and two hours of sleep to get by

but levi knows you better than you know yourself. it’s hour seven into the day and you’re already dozing off in your seat. slowly but gradually your head tilts forward. levi’s sitting across you contemplating whether or not he should prop your head back up like a nice friend would or if he should wait for you to smack your forehead right into the solid oak table.

he ends up making his decision last minute, your head flies towards the table and if it were anyone else he’d just let them jolt awake from the harsh impact but it’s you and his body won’t let him ignore you.

on reflex his hand flies out and in the matter of a split second he’s holding your head back. he’s surprised you haven’t woken up and he’s even more surprised he bothered to help you

before that happens levi knows he likes you, he knows he enjoys your company, he’s aware you make him happy but he thinks he’s willing to just be friends with you because clearly you don’t want to pursue anything.

you haven’t even flirted with him before aside from the witty “you remind me of an exothermic reaction” joke that you made one time

oh and there’s also the additional fact that you had a boyfriend up until quite recently so he’s sure you don’t see him romantically

honestly he’s fine with not dating you but something about seeing you overwork yourself like that has him simmering in anger. if he were your boyfriend he would have forced you into bed whether you liked it or not

if he were your boyfriend he’d never break up with you because he “found someone better.” he can’t even manage to imagine anyone better than you.

levi shuffles into the seat next to yours and places your head onto his shoulder. a few students shoot him questioning looks but the deadly glare he sends back is enough to deter them from coming any closer

it’s a little funny actually, by the time you wake up you’re rubbing at your eyes, you don’t even notice how close levi is to you until his hot breath fans across your neck. it seems like he’s dozed off whilst trying to make notes on fluid dynamics

wait

levi. right. next. to. your. neck.

should you move????

no, he might wake up he barely sleeps and you don’t want to mess up his schedule even more

that day you choose to drift off back to sleep as if you never woke up to his breath against your neck.

“OHHHH LEVI LANDED ON Y/N????”

your head shoots up NOW you’ve completely been dragged away from your thoughts.

“lucky for you both. guess you won’t have to do anything and stand there for seven minutes. told ya levi there was nothing to worry about B-)”

hange without warning pulls you both up by your arms, you’ve yet to see levi’s reaction, you’re too stunned to have noticed his slack jaw or wide eyes

“HAVE FUN!”

and with that said and done you and levi are shoved into the cleaning closet

“well, i’m glad it landed on you. i won’t have to do anything.” levi seems happy as can be, you don’t really know why but it stings a little

he doesn’t even seem to stop for a second to wonder if you’d maybe want to do anything

are you just not his type ????

hange once told you levi liked organised people and well,, you’re anything but organised. you’d probably pass out from the work load of your physics lectures if not for levi always helping you out

scowling to yourself you try to ignore just how awkward the situation is until levi plops down on the floor in front of you

“you okay?” he asks looking genuinely concerned

“i- yeah i’m good.”

your eyes dart away trying to look at anything but him. you can’t deny he looks good today, you actually helped him slick his hair back - the entire time he complained about the hair gel feeling weird but he looks great and now you can’t even stare at him for more than a second

“i’m guessing you’d have preferred if the bottle landed on someone else.”

leaning forward without even noticing it you aggressively deny what he says. “NO!!! i like being stuck here with you.”

levi looks stunned by your outburst but nods “oh, did you feel pressured to join the game? we can leave if you want—”

“no, no i– you aren’t– oh god i mean, look. i can explain– do i need to explain???”

completely choking up in front of him and sputtering before slamming your lips shut and saying absolutely nothing is probably one of the most awkward things you’ve done in your ENTIRE existence

levi reaches out for your knee, something that’s usually seen as him being friendly only feels intimate tonight. his thumb strokes comforting circles into your skin. the situation doesn’t make it any better, essentially you’re meant to be making out with him right now

“is something bothering you?”

there it is again. that look. he only seems more concerned than before and you hate yourself for not even thinking about your friendship before you open your mouth.

“do you not want to kiss me because we’re best friends or is it something else?”

there it is. you’ve said it.

you see levi’s face contort from a mix of confusion to what looks like disgust then shock. screwing your eyes shut you know you’ve ruined everything now. he’s never going to speak to you, never going to approach you again. you’re mentally preparing for him to ditch you at this party right here right now

but then you notice his hand still steadily placed on your knee, he’s now stopped with the circles, his grip is bruising

“do you want me to kiss you?”

his question isn’t really expected, it helps you find the courage to look your best friend in the eye.

it’s pretty dark but you can still make out the familiar shadows of his face. the butterflies rush up from your stomach all the way to your throat.

mild regret fills you, usually his curtains obscure his piercing gaze but the way you’ve styled his hair gives him a better view of you, there’s nowhere for you to hide

not even stopping to think about the possibility of him teasing you right now, all you care about is telling him the truth. you’ve come all the way here you may as well finish off what you’ve started

“would you be mad if i said i’d like it if you did?”

levi doesn’t need any more confirmation than that, he swoops in yanking you by your waist. his knees are still pressed against the floor and so you find yourself leaning down into his mouth and craning your neck downwards

his chest is completely pressed against yours. the drumming of your heart is so loud you feel self conscious but levi’s soft lips moving against yours distract you from that

not even ten seconds in and you feel out of breathe but not in an overwhelming way. levi’s pace isn’t at all what you imagined it to be like. he’s soft and slow yet calloused and rough around the edges, some how he still manages to make the kiss sweet

his left hand leisurely travels to the small of your back, the other hand now caresses your cheek. his fingertips are anything but soft but the way he handles you is tender and endearingly delicate.

you smile into the kiss and almost instantly levi’s lips tug upwards too. his take on seven minutes in heaven is quite easily the most romantic thing you’ve been subjected to. instead of a passionate make out you’ve been given a honeyed introduction to a new side of him

the kiss ends much quicker than you anticipate, you open your mouth to whine and convince levi that the two of you should still have a solid minute left before hange returns but he presses his index finger against your lips

“later. i promise.” his voice is heavy and if his blushed cheeks are anything to go by he’s thoroughly enjoyed your session together

at his reassurance you comply and take the time to have a better look at him

his lips are wet – some of your lip gloss has clearly stuck to him. his hair isn’t as well styled as it was before, seeing him like this makes you feel a surge of confidence. you know you did that to him.

so... what is someone to do with a sudden boost in confidence?

hit your new possible love interest with a pick up line :-) !!!

“heyyy so i know the spring constant of my mattress, would you be interested in taking some data with me?”

slapping your shoulder lightly he’s yet to gain his composure back, levi’s genuinely out of breathe now trying to steady himself and your comment doesn’t do him any favours that’s for sure

“my god you have no sham–”

without warning the door to your left swings open you and levi flinch trying to scramble away from eachother only to fail, hange marches in before stopping dead in their tracks.

all they see is levi knelt in front of you, hair disheveled huffing like his life depends on it

then their focus shifts to you, you’re sure some of your makeup has smudged and the entire scenario looks suspicious

levi seems as if he’s about to warn hange to not tell anyone and keep this a secret for now but they sprint away before any of you have the opportunity to ask for some privacy

not even ten seconds later a collision can be heard alongside a series of thuds and then hange’s yelling towards the end of the hallway “GUYS??? THEY ACTUALLY DID IT???”

for some reason the cheers coming from the living room warm your heart

you guess your friends figured out the direction of your relationship long before you and levi did :-)

[luminnara]

God Damn, Shit Sucking Vampires | Poly lost boys x oc CH 9

(oops no gif because the ones i want won’t upload right now)

Just as a reminder, lost boys requests are OPEN!

Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Tags:  @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh

Warnings: Blood, gore, vampire things

Hearing a strange voice in her head nearly drove Vera into a panic. When she realized she was hearing Max, she nearly flew into a second panic, the sire’s strong, firm voice only reassuring her that all of her fears were correct and he wasn’t going to like her very much. 

As she walked along the beach, bare toes sinking into the sand, Dwayne at her side, Vera briefly wondered how hard it would be to kill Max if it came down to a struggle. Did she have a chance against him? Maybe, if she stooped low enough to cry for her own sire, he would come and take care of it—

“Hey, chill out,” Dwayne said, stopping and turning towards her slightly. “What’s wrong?”

She realized she had halted and was simply standing there, staring at nothing as her mind raced. He could probably feel how freaked out she was getting, and as she looked at him, she found a gentle, understanding expression on his face. 

“C’mere,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and comforting. 

He opened his arms in invitation and she dove right in, moving quickly and desperately enough that she knocked him right onto his ass. He landed in the sand with a laugh, situating the two of them so that she could sit in his lap and they could face the dark, never ending ocean. 

“Did Max freak you out?” Dwayne asked as Vera tucked her head under his chin. 

“...a little.” 

“Why?”

She sighed. Something about Dwayne made her feel so safe that she was actually considering talking with him about things she hadn’t even told David yet. “Because I’m not used to this. I’m used to vampires who want me out of their territory the second I even get close, and I can’t really blame them.”

“This is your territory, too.” He said. “You’re the one who’ll be kicking people out of it now.”

“I don’t think Max is going to like me.” She grumbled. 

“Why not?”

She was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “Because he’ll see me as a threat.”

“Max isn’t like that.”

“You’re just saying that now because he’s your sire.”

“No, I’m saying it because I mean it.” Dwayne rested his cheek on the top of her head, his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on her back. “Max wants a family. Now you’re part of that family.”

He sounded so sure of his own words that Vera was actually feeling inclined to believe him for a moment. “Parents don’t tend to like me.”

“Anyone who can handle having Paul in their pack can handle you.”

She scoffed. “He isn’t that bad.”

“Maybe to you.” Dwayne chuckled. He tightened his arms around her when he realized that his jokes weren’t very reassuring. “Max is a good man. A good sire.”

“Why?” Vera asked. “What does he do that makes you like him so much?”

“Well,” Dwayne situated them a bit better, getting more comfortable. “He’s fair. He acts stern, but...he sees himself as our father.”

“Don’t they always?” Vera grumbled. 

“He calls David his prodigal son, but he always wanted a whole family. He ended up with the four of us.”

“So, what? He plucked you all up out of the gutter and that makes him a good guy?”

“Why are you so determined to hate him?”

“I’m not!” she protested. “I’m just...wary.”

“Max gave us new lives.” Dwayne sighed. “He found us back in San Francisco after we got ourselves in some trouble with another vampire.”

Vera had to snort in amusement at that. “Seriously? Who’d you pick a fight with? Dracula?”

“Well…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He flashed her a smile. “How were we supposed to know who he was?”

“Humans really have no self preservation instincts, do they?”

“Apparently not.” Dwayne chuckled, squeezing her. 

“How long ago was it?”

“1906, same year as that big earthquake. Tore the whole city apart...it was the perfect time for four vampires to start learning how to survive, with all that chaos. People were dead, more were missing...nobody noticed a few more disappearing here and there.”

“Is that why Max and, uh...Vlad were there?” Vera asked. 

“I imagine.” Dwayne shrugged. “We resisted at first. David was especially pissed off.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Vera laughed quietly. 

“But...we took to the lifestyle pretty quickly.”

“And that’s that?” Vera asked. 

“That’s that.” he shrugged. “Max wants to be a father figure. He turned David because he wanted a son, and he taught him everything he knew. Then, he decided David needed companions, and he happened to find me not long after. Then the others. Max isn’t a bad guy, Vera. You’ll see.”

“That’s what everybody says about their own sire.” she said, looking out at the black waves as they crashed against the sand just a few feet in front of her. “Everyone wants to talk their sires up, because without them, we’re nothing. Just because your own sire is nice to you doesn’t mean he’ll be nice to me.”

“What’s so bad about your own that you think ours is so awful?”

The question hung in the air for a moment, Vera’s mouth pressing into a thin line. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Dwayne opened his eyes, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head affectionately. 

“I’m not.”

“I know that you are, though.”

Vera let out a frustrated noise, then heaved a sigh. Maybe talking about this could be good for her. Maybe verbalizing thoughts and fears that she’d been living with for centuries could finally help her get over them...and if anyone was a good listener, it would be Dwayne. 

“Okay, fine.” she said. “What’s so bad about my sire? Everything. Everything is what’s bad about him, literally.”

“Where’s he from?” Dwayne asked. 

“The old country. Like...the old old country.”

“Why are you so reluctant to talk about him?” Dwayne’s voice was low and gentle, barely audible over the sound of the waves. 

“Because he’s got a reputation.” she fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “Most older vampires know of him. You guys might not, and if we had a different situation, I’d say it should stay that way.”

“That serious, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Hmm.” Dwayne’s chest rumbled. “The others should hear about this, too.”

“Yeah, they should.” she sighed again, her voice small. She felt small in general, all curled up in Dwayne’s lap like that. Small and helpless. She wasn’t, though, and she didn’t want them to think that she was. So she cleared her throat, trying to muster as much confidence as she could, ignoring the mild twisting in her gut. “I’ll tell you guys everything tomorrow night.”

Dwayne made a small, impatient sound. 

“Max will want to hear, too.”

“That’s a good point,” he admitted. “You know, I still need to hunt for you…”

Vera perked up slightly. The thought of food made the tight feeling in her chest loosen up slightly, and she looked at Dwayne eagerly. “Yes, please.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her as he stood and set her back on her feet. “Then let’s go find some snacks, Princess.”

-0-

“You know, we don’t have to do this. We could just go back to the cave--”

“What happened to that tough attitude you had a few days ago?” David raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he pulled Vera off the back of his bike.

“I’m still tough,” she growled, knowing that he could very easily feel how nervous she was. 

“Come on, babe,” Paul parked his bike next to David’s and bounded over to her. “You’ll be fine.”

“We’d never let anything happen to ya,” Marko said, following Paul. 

Vera knew he was telling the truth, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She had barely slept the entire day, waking up restless and on edge as soon as the sun disappeared, and it had taken a good deal of coaxing from David to even get her to leave the roost. They took Star and Laddie to the boardwalk, dropped them off with some cash, and then headed off to Max’s house.

David told Vera along the way that Star and Laddie weren’t allowed to know where Max lived. They really weren’t allowed to know anything about him in general, in order to protect him, so when the pack walked up to the front gate of their sire’s home, it was only the four boys who accompanied Vera. She didn’t mind; having Star around would have only put her more on edge, probably, and she had been glad to leave the halfling behind. 

As she faced the gated bridge that led to Max’s completely normal-looking, Californian home, Vera did everything she could to act confident. She squared her shoulders, held her chin up, and pretended that she had nothing to worry about...but the boys could see right through the facade, and as they joined her, they all fell into a little formation. In moments, Vera was surrounded by them, David offering his arm while the others stepped into their spots behind. It made her feel better, knowing that they were all there to protect her...but at the same time, she still wished they were all out wandering the boardwalk. 

“So brave,” David sneered as she took his arm. 

“Shut up.” she growled, vaguely aware of Dwayne’s hand on her lower back. 

“Relax,” Marko purred. 

“Don’t you dare tell me to relax, Marko, I swear—“

The barking of a rapidly approaching dog interrupted her, the sound of paws thumping rhythmically against the wooden walkway drawing her attention away from the boys. A big white hellhound was barreling towards the gate, all teeth and rage, and although it looked like it wanted to tear her limbs off, the sight of such a beast made Vera temporarily forget why she was so anxious. Even as it barked and snarled and threw itself against the gate, she thought that it was absolutely adorable.

“Oh, look at you!” She squealed as the boys all jumped back. When she took a step forward, David tried to yank her towards him, but she slipped away easily, too focused on this hellhound to care. 

“You’re such a big handsome boy,” she said, in a voice that made Paul jealous. 

“No fair,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “Why’s the dumb dog get all that?”

Marko glanced at the taller blond nervously. “Don’t call him dumb, you remember what happened last time?”

Paul groaned, rolling his eyes at the memory of nearly losing a hand. 

The dog stopped barking as Vera approached, falling silent as it sniffed the air around her. The vicious look on its face was gone, replaced by curiosity, and when Vera ignored David’s irritated warnings and reached over the gate to pet it, the animal whined. 

“You must be Thorn,” Vera cooed, scratching behind its ears. “What a big, brave, hell-y hellhound you are, yes you are!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Paul said as he watched. 

“What?” Vera asked, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“Thorn doesn’t like any of us.” Marko huffed. “Why’s he like you so much?”

“Well...he can probably smell my sire on me,” Vera said. “Might remind him of home. Hellhounds usually like me because of that.”

“...Home?” Paul asked. 

“I’ll tell you later.”

“But I wanna know now!” he whined.

Thorn growled at him. 

“Thorn!” a male voice called from the other end of the little bridge. 

Vera immediately stiffened. The front door of the house had opened, and in it stood a man, wearing a very stylish suit and horn rimmed glasses. Thorn heeded his master’s call, giving Paul one last woof before trotting back towards Max. His departure freed the front gate, and David brushed past Vera to open it, taking her hand and leading the gang across the walkway. 

“Boys,” Max greeted as they approached him. He offered David a stern smile, one which David didn’t return, and when Max’s eyes fell upon Vera all tucked up against his side, his eyes narrowed slightly. “And you must be Vera.”

She didn’t like that he knew her name. It was inevitable that he’d find out what it was, but still...she kept clinging to the hope that maybe, he wouldn’t learn too much about her. The boys seemed so convinced that Max was just an annoying father, but as Vera took him in, she could see that behind the trendy, 80s-dad facade, there was an old, powerful vampire, and those were the kind she didn’t get along with very well. 

“Well, come in, everyone, before dinner gets cold. I made sure to get all your favorites, boys.” Max stepped to the side, inviting them over the threshold in a very courteous way, one that suggested he had nothing to fear from the boys or Vera.

“You shouldn’t have,” David sneered sarcastically as he walked in. 

“Would it kill you to be nice?” Vera hissed. 

He rolled his eyes.

Max noticed the exchange with a bemused expression on his face. “Go on in and sit down. The table’s already set.”

The house was nice. It wasn’t incredibly extravagant, by any means, but it was perfectly well decorated, modern art that Vera didn’t quite know how to appreciate hanging on the walls. Everything was clean and organized, not a speck of dust in sight, as opposed to the state of decay the boys kept their lair in. Max seemed to enjoy playing the role of a video store owner, and his home reflected that; if anyone came to visit, they wouldn’t see a single item out of place, nor would they have any reason to be suspicious of him. There were no torture devices, no loose vials of blood sitting around, no skulls or human skin nailed up. It looked so...normal. 

Vera almost stopped to wonder why exactly she was so nervous...and then she heard the whimpering.

“Geez, Max,” Paul remarked as they rounded the corner and entered the dining room, “you really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, fresh caught is always the best,” Max said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Hell yeah,” Marko growled, lips pulled back in a grin. 

The dining room table was covered in an array of meats, from a suckling pig in the center to a rack of ribs at the end. Six chairs surrounded the feast, plates and cutlery set out at each spot, with big glass goblets already half full of blood ready and waiting. Next to each chair stood a human, frozen due to both fear and Max’s vampire magic, a couple of them shaking and considerably more conscious than the others. 

Max walked to his place at the head of the table, Thorn at his side as he took his seat. David sat at the far end, facing him, his eyes dark and hungry as he held himself back. Dwayne sat at David’s left side, Vera at his right, while Paul and Marko took the remaining two chairs and tried not to completely lose their minds. They were shaking almost as much as the humans were, Paul looking at his blood donor eagerly while Marko held a little sneer on his face that suggested he was about ten seconds from ripping his apart.

“Dig in, everyone,” Max said, taking his cloth napkin and tucking it into his shirt collar. “But please try not to make a mess. There’s more than enough here for each of you.”

David immediately grabbed the arm of his meal, sinking his fangs in and taking a drink while Max preferred to drain his into the goblet he had set out for himself. Vera could only watch, stunned, as the carnage began, and before long, she was joining in. The human Max had caught for her was a middle aged clergyman, and she had to tear through his holy sleeve to get to his flesh. 

She didn’t mind, though; she very rarely ever got to eat members of the clergy. They were generally too much work to hunt down, and since she had an aversion to churches, well...like most vampires, she tended to leave them alone. It was hard to nab them without making a spectacle and letting the entire town know that something was amiss. So, all things considered, a little bit of extra work involving a mouthful of fabric was worth it. This was like a special treat for her, and she couldn’t help but drain him all in one go, still holding on even after he had collapsed in a bloodless heap on the floor. 

When she looked up, she realized that Max was watching her. 

“So,” he said, speaking over the hellish sounds of the others slurping up their meals, “I believe some congratulations are in order. Welcome to the family, Vera.”

She swallowed her last mouthful of blood and looked at him. “Uh...thanks. I-I mean, thank you.”

Max picked up his silverware, cutting a slice of ham for himself. “Where are you from, Vera?”

“I wander,” she said, following suit and stabbing her fork into a raw steak. 

“I’ve surmised that much,” Max chuckled good-naturedly. “I meant where are you from originally.”

“...oh.” She cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly. “Italy.”

“Italy!” Max exclaimed. “Such a lovely region. I haven’t visited The Mediterranean since I left the old country myself. If I didn’t have the shop here, perhaps I’d take a trip...have you been back recently?”

“No,” she crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to act like she wasn’t fidgeting. She took a bite of her steak, focusing on the blood as it trickled down her throat. 

Max reached for his goblet, raising the blood to his lips and taking a drink. “And your sire, is he still in Europe?”

Vera almost choked on her food. 

By this point, the boys were all watching. Paul was licking blood off his lips while Marko still had his dinner’s forearm in his mouth, but David and Dwayne were both focused solely on the conversation at hand, their eyes narrowed slightly as they listened. 

When she realized that everyone was waiting, Vera coughed into her fist, clearing her throat. “Y-yes, he is.”

Max’s eyes darkened, despite the smile on his face. “You know you need to tell me about him, Vera.”

“There’s not much to tell,” she lied, turning back to her steak. “Just an ancient vampire, out there in the old country. Not very exciting.”

“Exciting or not, I’d still prefer to know who he is.” Max said. 

She shrugged, reaching for her glass to take a nervous drink. “I doubt you’d know him.”

“When you drink that blood, you’ll be joining our family.”

She froze, hand on the stem of the glass.

“I’m sure your sire will be able to feel it. I’d hate to be rude and not even know his name in the event he visits one day.”

Vera stared at the blood—Max’s blood—as her fingers tightened around the stem. “You don’t want him to visit.”

“Oh?” Max asked, appearing as relaxed as ever. “Why not?”

“Because of who he is.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And what he can do.”

Dwayne and David glanced at each other. 

When Max spoke again, his voice was softer, gentler than before. “What is your sire’s name, Vera?”

With a great deal of effort, she opened her eyes again, still staring into the blood rather than at any of them. 

“Asmodeus.” She said. “My sire is Asmodeus.”

[spencers-renaissance]

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

[viastro]

to my youth | this. this is humiliating (14/35)

ミ★ synopsis: in a world where everyone finds out who loves them within a 10 meter radius through the app love alarm, confessing your feelings without the use of the app is no longer considered normal. however, you refuse to download it in hopes that you’ll be able to fall in love without being dependent on love alarm.

ミ★ word count: 1,320

ミ★ taglist pt. 1: @shoshishua @elcie-chxn @vibecheckvernon @minghaoist @escapewriter @solarwonux @sunlightwoo @dwcljh @taeguk-munchkin @mvltimoon @wonunuu @euphorencia @rjsmochii @suhfluffy @flower0930 @jingarchives @kwonscafe @celestial-lunar @hao-are-xu @manamiyx @haotheheckk @muhanuibean @noniesgirl @happyvitamin @linhyyboo12 @changmin-wrlds @still-lonely @seungsanhun @http-mewchuu @daisyhwa @otchae @lovelychanhyuk @yellowsreflection @frogiehao @224-12 @fabshua @changnuggie​ @wonwonuwu​ @junstruly​ @coupsiesluv​ @sunshineshouchan​ @unravellyn​ @hwaatemydoor​ @itsdnguyenxoxo​ @isa499​ @shuangel​ @sdoulc​ @gyubagebin​ @ellainejxwxlle​ @rosehannie​ @youdawonu​ @mrsmoonjeon​ @coupsiekkuma​ @toriasaurio​ @wonu-shii​ @seokgyuu​ @danceology-y​ @thisisaficrec​

ミ★ won’t let me tag: @blessedhoonie @tobio-oo @kawaiimusiccollection

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Running a hand through your hair, you push open the door and step into the university library with Wonwoo’s boba in hand. You glance up from the ground and freeze when you see all the eyes on you as you stand in the entrance, the door loudly creaking behind you as it slowly closes.

this. this is humiliating.

You let out an apologetic smile towards those who are staring as you feel heat rush to your face in embarrassment, quickly walking away from the entrance as if it’ll decrease the number of eyes on you. You roam around the first floor, looking for that head of black hair at one of the tables as you gnaw on the inside of your cheek. 

“Yn?”

“JES-” Wonwoo stares at you with wide eyes, book in hand while you clamp your hand over your own mouth. You’re 100% sure your heart is palpitating in your chest as you curse yourself silently for basically screaming in shock in the library. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” Wonwoo whispers after you finally calm down, and you shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, I’m easily spooked.” 

He grins at the sight of your smile, before his eyes trail down to the unopened boba in your hand. Your eyes follow his line of sight, and you immediately thrust out the boba in his direction, “This is for you.” 

Wonwoo’s eyes widen slightly, before he lets out a chuckle, reaching out and taking the boba from your hand. Both of your breaths hitch when his fingers graze over yours, and you even almost drop the boba, but remain strong until it’s out of your grasp. 

“Thank you for bringing it here, it means a lot to me.” Wonwoo tells you, and you shake your head, giving him a smile. “Of course! I saw that you were stressed, so I wanted to help out.” 

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek, finding you more endearing the longer he speaks to you. He runs a hand through his hair, before motioning over in the direction where he’s been studying. You raise an eyebrow, and he grins, “Do you wanna sit with me? I was about to take a break from studying for my cs midterm.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, internally screeching at the fact that he asked you to sit with him. So you nod your head, and he lets out an almost relieved smile. The two of you walk over towards his table, and you sit down in the seat across from him, setting your bag down beside the chair.

“What are you stuck on?” You ask as you glance at the pages of the textbook, and Wonwoo lets out a tired sigh. He points towards the figure on the page, and you lean in closer to get a better look at it. 

“This shit is boggling my mind. I was thinking of taking a break from trying to understand it, then look at it again tomorrow to have a fresh mindset on it.” You nod your head, squinting at the figure on the page, not knowing what it means. You glance up to tell Wonwoo that’s a good idea, only to freeze when you see that your faces are only a few inches away from each other. 

His eyes search yours for a moment, and he wonders why your love alarm hasn’t rang when his heart is quite literally beating a million beats per minute as he stares into your bright eyes. You lean back into your seat, face warm at the fact that you and Wonwoo were that close to each other. 

The two of you sit in silence, trying to comprehend what just occurred. With you trying to remind yourself that hundreds of people on campus have a crush on the pretty man, and Wonwoo debating on whether or not he should ask you the question that’s been on his mind for a while now.

he decides to ask you.

“Yn?” You glance up at the sound of his voice, just to find him looking a bit nervous. You tilt your head to the side, “Yeah?”

“D-do you,” Wonwoo pauses to internally curse himself for stuttering before continuing. “Do you have love alarm?” 

You stare at him for a moment, trying to assess the possibilities for why he’s asking about the app. It ranges from him wanting to make fun of you and say no one would ever ring your love alarm, or he wants to ask how many times it’s rung. However, you fail to come up with an answer and instead shake your head ‘no’ at him. 

Wonwoo’s mouth drops open a bit at your answer, a sense of both relief and fear flooding his senses. Relief to the fact that he actually would’ve been ringing your love alarm if you had it, and fear at the fact that he doesn’t know how to start a relationship without the app. 

“I never downloaded it. I just, this is going to sound stupid.” You begin, and Wonwoo takes a sip of his boba nervously as he waits for you to continue. You let out a breath, “But I didn’t want to find love through an app.”

Wonwoo stares at you in silence, gauging your words as you look around the library. You rub the back of your neck nervously, before turning back towards the pretty man, and you give him a small smile. 

“I know that it’s crazy, and a lot of people think it’s weird. I just don’t want to have to rely on an app, and I feel like I could see whether someone was being genuine if the app wasn’t involved in the making of the relationship. The app has really taken away the beauty of pining after one another, ya know?” You explain quietly, and Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand before continuing, “Like, what happened to simply asking will you go out with me? Or can we be happy together?”

Wonwoo tilts his head to the side in confusion, “I’ve never heard of that last one.” 

You grin, nodding your head as you feel warmth flood your features at how embarrassed you feel about telling your crush how you’d like someone to ask you to be theirs. Looking down at your hands you say, “Oh, yeah. That one’s not common I think. I just… I’d like it if someone asked me to be their girlfriend that way, ya know?”

“So you want someone to try and pursue you like how it was before love alarm existed?” Wonwoo asks after a moment of silence, and you nod your head with a bashful smile on your face. You shrug your shoulders, “I know, it’s stupid to even think someone would do something like that for me, but I just-”

“It’s not stupid.” Wonwoo immediately interrupts, and you blink in surprise. He gives you a nervous grin, taking another sip of boba as he feels his heart thump against his chest. You shake your head after a second, glancing down at your hands. “It’s okay, I know it is. No one would try and pursue me now that love alarm is the main-”

“I would.”

The words die in your throat when Wonwoo cuts you off once again, and your eyes slowly trail up to his face to see if he’s joking. Your heart pounds violently against your chest when you see him staring at you with a serious expression on his face, and you begin to wonder if you were just mishearing things. 

And so you ask, “What?” 

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek nervously, glancing down at his hands that are fidgeting underneath the table. He lets out a small breath, before looking back up into your pretty eyes.

“I like you, yn.”

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[bakugohoex]

Hi! I saw requests were open so I have one :] can you do a levi x marley nurse reader? Maybe she meets him when the scouts are undercover and they meet again when she finds out he's from Paradis? But the reader still helps Levi and both gain feelings with each other over time. Thank you and sorry this is specific sounding 😅💕

“i’d become a traitor just to be with you”

pairing: levi ackerman x female reader

cw: fluff, swearing 

word count: 2400+

a/n: i’m so sorry for this coming out so late, idk why i’ve been unmotivated to write requests, but i swear all i have now is requests and my event on my list, also yeah check my 1k event out its the pinned post

summary:  in which you’re a marley nurse having befriended levi without knowing his identity with the raid of liberio dawning on the survey corps having been followed by you, levi’s truth is revealed and a confession of your own, maybe there is happiness for you two

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of the bells rang through the city, the medical facility had gotten their fair share of injuries after the win against the Mid-East a couple weeks ago. You had helped the injured to beds, wrapping the bandages around their blood-filled scars, after a long day of helping you were finally able to leave, not to your home, however. You stood against the brick wall, your nurse’s uniform clinging onto you, having seen the injured Eldians, the way the Marleyan soldiers shouted and taunted the weak made you sick to the stomach. 

“Y/n.” The familiar voice came from the side, his dull eyes softer at the sight of how you had waited for him. “You waited.”

“I wasn’t going to just leave you.” You had met the man a few weeks back, he'd often come past the medical facility and had caught your eye, even having asked your name. He was sweet with his black undercut and suit, handsome even. But those eyes, those emotionless eyes had a past, you didn't know what it was, but you wanted to know.

He had asked you to go on a walk with him, even after every day of seeing the man he wanted to spend alone time together. By being an Eldian yourself you understood the pains of being one but being subjected by the Marleyans weren’t that bad, well that’s what you’d repeatedly say. It was all a lie, your parents having been sent to Paradis, having been sent to their deaths, sent to become titans.

The man put his hand out, you softly laced your fingers in his, for such a mysterious man his little touches the past weeks had grown. Now seeing him almost every day, this time it felt different, it felt like he was fearful. “The festivals tomorrow.” You smile out trying to make conversation with him.

His grip tightened as he looked down at your smaller figure, “I heard, you going?”

“Yeah, Falco that boy I told you about invited me to tag along with him and his friends.” You smiled out, in a matter of minutes the hand that had encased your own fell, you felt lonely almost. It was bad enough to have fallen for a man so mysterious, you never did know why he came to the medical facility. He was always so quiet yet spoke so much but now it seemed he was distant for another reason.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” You tilted your head in confusion, it wasn't an event that you could really miss. Having promised Falco that you'd go after he'd come to visit the long-haired man.

“Oh, I was going to invite you to come along.” You let out a heavy breath, you had thought something could come between the two of you. The long looks he’d give you as you tended to patients he looked down into the dark, taking a corner as you followed. You didn't even realise where you were going until it was just the two of you into a narrow alleyway. 

He stops in his tracks looking at you, he doesn't meet your gaze, “get out of Liberio.”

“Levi.” You were even more confused than before, “what’s going on?” 

He takes a few steps back, continuing to think about his choice right now. He knew from the first day he had met you, he needed to stay as far away as possible. He saw how you came up to him with that smile, oh god the smile that melted his heart. For the first time in years he had smiled back, a genuine smile at the way you helped the Eldians, how you secured their bandages, talked to the dying. How could he have not liked you and now the threat of you dying tomorrow. The threat that something would happen stayed with him until he met your worried gaze. 

Your eyes glossed over, confusion filling you, the distance between the two of you making it harder to even see him properly. You remembered the conversation from this morning, how he had come up to you with haste. 

“Hey Levi, this is earlier than usual?” You smiled brightly, the papers in your hand as you let him follow you around. His steps felt too cautious like he had more to say but couldn't instead he kept silent until your gaze fully went onto the black-haired boy. 

He looks down not meeting your gaze, “can we meet after you finish work?”

“Umm sure why?” You pass the papers to the other nurses, he looks at how perfect you looked, how your hair set perfectly across your face. 

Looking out the window, he notices the boy he had known you have called Falco run off with a letter. Before turning back to face you, “I just need to talk to you.”

“Okay I finish at 9.” He nods taking steps away.

How had you not realised, the way he walked away without even a goodbye. The way he hadn't cared to ask for your day, was this the end of whatever you could call this, was it even a friendship. 

“Levi…” You repeated his name waiting for a response, he looked down at you wary of what to say. If he should even tell you, he knew your feelings to those in Paradis how your parents had been sent there. How you didn’t have the same hatred as the others but were wary instead. Would that wariness become something more, would it become disgust for him?

“Forget me.” He mutters about to walk away, walk out of your life. He hoped you’d listen to his words and hoped that you wouldn't go to the festival tomorrow. 

You watched him walk away, how could he do this? Leave without an explanation, how could he say the simple two words, forget me you weren't some animal that could forget someone who had impacted your life. You stood there in silence watching as his figure disappeared, you heard the sadness that washed over you and did something you might have regretted. 

Following the man, you wanted a reason at least. A reason for this coming out tonight, what had changed and what was so special about the festival, it was supposed to be joyous seeing the stalls with your friends. But the way he spoke, the way he wanted you to not go, it had an undertone of worry, he knew more than he was letting off. 

You watched him walking into one of the abandoned buildings, the way he opened the door as if he’d done it a million times. You crept past going to the windows, you looked through, glad that the curtains were closed, and a gap was evident. Watching how Levi sat on the chair surrounded by other men and women, one with glasses looking at the man with confusion. There was talking, quiet talking until the woman spoke loudly making everyone shudder. 

“Eren’s letters have told us what’s going on?” She paused; your fingers perched on top of the window sill. It was intrusive, but he left you with nothing, you deserved something. Well that's what you kept saying to yourself. The question at hand was who was this Eren, you only knew one Eren and that was the man who was with Falco. The memory of Falco with a letter sprung into your mind. It couldn't be, there couldn't be a link between these people and the injured man. “The Warhammer titan will be there tomorrow, that’s when we strike.” 

“Are we sure Eren will be able to get Reiner?” A man spoke with long brown hair, he was tall, much taller than Levi and stood leaning against the wall. 

“He better.” Is all Levi said, all conversation regarding Eren’s capability had ended and had turned to the plan at hand. Your mind going through what you had just heard, what was there interest in the Warhammer titan, or even worse how did they know Reiner?

The woman continued talking, having been in your own mind you heard the last bit, a shock running through your veins, “...we bring Eren back to Paradise.”

You clamped your hand to your mouth, falling against the wall in shock. Paradis, they said Paradis, Levi, he couldn’t be, but he was. Your Levi, the man who was always wary about his past, was always dismissing your questions of his past was from Paradis and even worse that means he was the Levi Ackerman that Porco had spoken about. Trying to suppress the worry that flew over you, you looked down to the soil, the way you breathed heavily against your palm and then the sound of a gun to your head. 

“Who the hell are you?” It was the same boy from inside, you hadn't realised he had come outside, but with the gun cocked to your skull. You could barely speak, “Hanje, Levi.”

At the sound of the boys shout the two came out, Levi’s eyes widening at the sight of you on the ground. The sight of fear that ran through you, he knew you heard it all and all he could think about was if you wanted him to die. “Put the gun down Jean.” Jean confusingly complied as Levi stepped towards you, those inside having come to see what the commotion was. 

“Y/n.” Levi bent down to meet your face, you refused to make eye contact.

Hanje spoke aloud, “you know her?”

He ignored the question, trying to meet your eyes, “Y/n…”

“You could’ve told me.” It was a whisper, but a shock filled him at your voice, “why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

You didn't care if he was from Paradis, you hated the Marleyans, all of them for what they did to your parents. Both sides were the same, but meeting someone actually from Paradis, falling for someone from Paradis how could you ever join the Marleyans now. 

“Your people hate us.” He was blunt about it which was the obvious answer. 

You looked at his face, “I fucking hate you…” His face fell, “for not telling me, Levi after everything I told you about with my parents, you really think I’d ever be on Marley’s side.”

He hadn't thought of that, only thinking that the sides had been determined. He hadn’t meant to come and see you every day for weeks, he hadn’t meant to ask about your day and your past. He hadn’t meant to fall for you, but he did and you, you stared at him with all the love you had.

“Is nobody going to explain what’s happening, or are we shooting her?” Levi glared at Jean as you looked down at your scathed fingers. 

Helping you up, you looked at the group from Paradis, your history books had spoken about the devils beyond the sea but looking at the men and women. Those at home felt more devilish than these people, “this is Y/n, she works at the hospital Eren’s at.” So the Eren at your hospital was the Eren Yeager with the truths of how you both knew each other coming out. 

One question stayed on everybody's minds, “can we trust her?” Hanje spoke what everybody was thinking.

Levi looked at you, his hand skimming your fingers that were to the side of your body, “i had nobody…” You turn back to Levi, meeting his eyes for the first time this night, “you can trust me.”

“How can we trust her word?” Jean questioned looking at the closeness between you and Levi.

Levi had be relieved but needed to settle the peace some way, “i trust her and she can help us, she’s a nurse.”

“One wrong move and we’ll take her hostage.” Hanje spoke happily, you didn't know if it was out of her wanting to experiment on you or she was always this happy but whatever it was you didn’t dare say another word. 

The group had dispersed back into the abandoned building. Levi looked at you with a soft look, “let me walk you home.”

You nod, as he puts his hand out, taking it you smile at him. It was soft and Levi had thought it to be the last one he’d get from you. “We intend to go home afterwards.”

“Oh…” You trail off.

“If you really have nobody than you could come with us?” Your eyes light up at the sound of his words, he was wary of your acceptance, wary that his confession was all for nothing. 

“Really? You’d want me to come with you.”

He looked up into the dark sky, home had been a faraway place. But in this moment with you he felt at home, after the losses he’d experienced, he knew he had met someone special. He had to keep you by his side even if his prior words were to keep you safe, he could keep you safe in Paradis. “Levi, I don't have anybody here.”

He doesn't question it, his grip tightening, taking you to your house, he had spent countless times dropping you home. But this time, the walk seemed different, the questions running through his head, “why?”

“Why what?” You stepped closer to your house door, the last time you’d see it in its glory before the destruction of tomorrow occurred. 

He looked at you, “why are you helping us?”

“You…” You trail off, opening the door as you walk inside, Levi following and shutting the door behind him. He had never seen the inside of your place, the photo frames across the mantel piece, the books lying across the room. “I’d become a traitor just to be with you.”

Your words got him out of his gaze, he watched how you started around the place, it was never home. You knew what home was and he stood directly in front of you, he walked towards you, eyes becoming softer before he brought his hand to your cheek, “I’ll come and get you tomorrow morning.”

You nod his hand still on your cheek, he looks down at your lips watching you lick them before bringing your face to his own. His warm lips against your own, a softness coming from the kiss, before your hands went to his hair bringing him down to your height, making the kiss faster, filled with love and lust built up from the weeks. His hands moved to cup your face, his tongue gliding across your tongue, the sounds of your moans filled the room. His body was comfortable, was home and you were never going to let that go.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

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[mypoisonedvine]

Dishonorable Discharge | dark!Bucky Barnes x sister!reader

please please please do not read or interact if this content would be triggering or upsetting for you in any way.  i do not condone the topics or behaviors that i write about.

summary: you and your brother were always thick as thieves, even if you weren’t technically related.  you weren’t ready for him to leave to go off to war, but you were even less prepared for the shell of him that would return.

warnings: noncon smut, sibling incest (I mean she’s adopted but still), breeding kink, innocence kink, loss of virginity, mention of hypothetical underage activity?? idk how to tag that but everyone in this story is 18+!

word count: 3.6k

tagging @lestersglitterglue​ cause they asked real nice!

Even though you were adopted, people always said that you and Bucky had a family resemblance.  It wasn't your respective appearances per se, but rather the way your eyes both sparkled.  Your parents sometimes joked that the two of you were more brother and sister than most brothers and sisters were— and they were right: even with the age gap, often the two of you felt like twins.  It was hard to imagine that your biological parents could've kept you and that you never would've known him... it felt like he had always been your brother, your best friend, your partner in crime; your Jamie.

You had been awful when he deployed.  You'd sobbed and screamed and beat his chest with your weak little fists.  You'd told him that if he left, you would hate him forever; that if he left, he might as well never come back.

Of course you regretted it once you got older and realized how stupid you were.  But you were only fifteen then, and heartbroken, and too selfish to understand that there were things more important than the promises you'd made to each other as children.  You were so afraid that he wouldn't come back and that you'd lose your only real friend in this world; and, like it often does, that fear turned to anger.  

By the time you were seventeen, you finally stopped crying and tried to make a life for yourself.  You tried to see it all as an opportunity: he'd always been the popular one, meaning you were stuck being known as "Bucky's little sister" rather than as your own person.  Now you could just be you for once— as soon as you figured out who you were without him.

By nineteen, you had lost hope that he would return.  You pretended to be at peace with that.  You pretended not to hate yourself for pushing him away when you needed each other most.  Silently, you thought of him every day; secretly, you went to church every night to pray for him.

It was the sort of neighborhood where you could leave your door unlocked, so you did.  Still, people usually knocked first.  You were wearing a nightgown you only wore around the house because it was much too short and small for you now, but with the hot weather, it was necessary.  You hadn’t expected to hear the door open, so as you nervously peered out from the hall to the foyer, you were beyond surprised at what you saw.

The man in the doorway… he looked familiar.  He was wearing your brother's uniform.  But his eyes were different.  That sparkle you shared was long gone.  And without it, you weren't sure he was your brother anymore.

"Jamie?" you asked, unable to believe what you were seeing.

Recognition crossed his face like he was hearing the name of someone he used to know.

"Jamie," you called again, your voice breaking as you ran to him; you wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight enough to make up for all the lost time.  "I thought I'd lost you," you sobbed, "oh god, Jamie, I thought you were—"

"Shhhh," he soothed, finally reciprocating the hug as one hand stroked the back of your head.  

"Don't ever leave me again," you begged.  "I can't lose you again."

"I won't go," he promised softly.

And just like that, you were the same little girl who'd clung to his legs and begged him to stay all those years ago, but this time you'd gotten what you always dreamed of.  This time, he wasn’t going to leave.

“You still like your eggs basted?” you asked him with a toothy smile, doing your best to keep things light.  You had so many questions for him but you wanted him to just feel at home first.  You two had always told each other everything, so you figured it wouldn’t be long until he told you what he’d been through in the last several years.

When you turned to receive the answer to your question, though, you found him spaced out in his seat at the dining table, staring off into nothing.  You could tell he was thinking about something just from the way his eyes were glazed over; you could tell he was thinking about something unpleasant from the way his fist was tightened.

"Are you okay?" you asked gently.  Silence.

You left your place by the stove, crossing the kitchen and kneeling down so you were eye-level with him.  Hesitantly, you reached out to brush your hand against his face.  He was certainly older-looking, and stubble dusted his jaw where it met with where his hair had grown out.  You wondered if it was as strange for him to see you and how much you’d aged as it was for you to see him like this.

“Jamie,” you whispered, “come back to me.”

Finally, as your hand cupped his cheek, he turned to look at you.  Even with a face that was hard to recognize at times, the eyes that met yours were undoubtedly your brother’s.  Darker, yes, and clearly tired from everything they’d seen, but as blue and perfect as always.

"When you call me that,” he spoke, eyes scanning your face, “it's like no time has passed at all.  It's like I'm still the same boy I was the day I left."

You swallowed.  "But you aren't, are you?"

He shook his head, just barely.

“Hey, listen to me,” you instructed, getting more serious and refusing to let him break the eye contact.  “It doesn’t matter what you’ve seen, or what you’ve done.  You’re my brother.  You’re my best friend.  You’re my whole world—”

You choked up a little, but kept going.

“—and I’m glad you’re home, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, smiling that crooked smirk that made your heart melt every time.

“You still want those eggs?”

He nodded a little.

“Basted?”

“Yeah, basted,” he agreed, turning back to the table as you stood up and returned to the stove.

“Your room’s the same as it was when you left,” you told him as you cracked the first egg into the hot pan.  You were sort of nervous to bring up anything about that, but you thought he might find it comforting.

“I don’t think I’m ready to go in there yet,” he admitted.  

“Stay in my room tonight, then.  It’s almost the same as it was then, too…”

“I’m amazed that bed can still fit you; are you sure we’ll both be able to sleep on it?” he asked.

“Oh, I was gonna give you the bed and make myself a pallet on the floor!” you clarified, wondering how he ever thought the two of you could share a bed; you hadn’t since you were little little-- like, under ten-years-old little.

But when you turned to look at him again, he seemed genuinely disappointed.  "Of course I can't let you sleep on the floor.  You take the bed; I've got a lot of practice with sleeping on the ground anyhow."

That was the last thing you wanted, him reminded of what it was like out there.

"We'll share the bed," you announced.  "If I take off all the plushies and decorative pillows, there might just be room for you."

"Woah woah woah," Bucky raised his arms as if to motion for you to slow down.  "We can't just go evicting Mr. Hoppy!  He's been a full-time resident of your bed for the past twenty years!" 

You both laughed, and it was almost like old times.

"He'd happily move over for you, Jamie."

The two of you brushed your teeth side-by-side in silence; you waited for him to finish his shower while you turned down the sheets, scooping up everything decorative on the bed and tossing it into the chair in the corner.

You choked a little when he stepped into your room with only a towel around his waist, using another to rub his hair dry.

"Don't you have some pyjamas?" you asked awkwardly.  "No matter— I actually have some of the pants you used to wear right here."

You pulled the checkered pants from your closet, and handed them to him as he nodded gratefully; you barely turned around fast enough to look away before he dropped his towel.

"Why do you have these in here anyways?" he asked as you tried to ignore the sounds of the fabric brushing over his bare skin.

"I wear them, sometimes," you admitted, feeling your face get a little warm, "when I miss you."

"Well, I'm here now," he hummed, wrapping his arms around you from the back and pulling you into a hug.  You could feel the warmth of his chest and arms burning right through your silky shift.  You almost wished you had worn something thicker; and yet, somehow, you also wished that there was no fabric in the way at all.  

Slipping under the comforter together, you wondered if it was odd that he was cuddling up to you.  You didn't mind it, since it was the most like the brother you remembered that he'd been all day, but some part of you was worried what people would think if they knew.  

You brushed the thought aside.  Nobody would know anyways.  

He placed a kiss to the top of your head as you basked in how small it made you feel.  "You smell the same as before, sissy."

You used to hate that nickname but now it was beyond welcome.  It reminded you of simpler times.  

"I hope that's a good thing," you replied.

"It's a wonderful thing.  The day your handkerchief stopped smelling like you was the day I thought I would lose all hope," he recalled.

You remembered when he took it; he said he wanted something to remember you by, and you'd responded by telling him to just forget about you because obviously he never loved you at all.

"I was so cruel to you that day," you cringed.  "I hate myself so much for that..."

"Hey, hey," he got your attention with a soft plea, guiding your chin until you were looking up at him with watery eyes.  "You were a kid.  I was, too.  You acted out, it happens."

"But I said things that weren't true, Jamie— awful, terrible things…"

"I never believed them," he assured you with a smile.

"We promised to never lie to each other," you whimpered, "and I broke that promise."

He shook his head.  "It's all in the past now.  Just be honest with me from now on, and I'll keep every promise I made."

You remembered a pinky swear made up in the highest branches of a tree: a promise to never be apart.  He'd broken that one, but maybe he wouldn't do it again.  The thought made your heart flutter.

"Be honest," he instructed you again.  

"Always," you agreed.

"Do you love me?" he asked, so quiet it was barely a whisper.

"O-of course," you answered quickly, stuttering not because of any lack of surety but simply from wondering how he could ever question that.

Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, his thumb and forefinger still holding your chin.  For a brief moment it felt believable as a familial kiss.

But then it didn't.

He began to move his mouth against yours, and instantly you pulled back, looking at him with what you figured must have been an expression of stunned confusion.  "Jamie," you mumbled in disbelief.

"I missed you so much," he purred, seeming to ignore your reluctance.  "Don't break my heart, sissy, I just want a kiss."

"I can't kiss you like that," you shook your head.

"Please?  You have no idea how lonely I've been, how hard it was without you…"

You felt guilty for his pain, and you had always hated to deny him of anything.  The absolute second that you gave him a hesitant nod, he dove right back in, kissing you deeper and harder than before.  His tongue forced its way into your mouth but you couldn't pull back; his arm had somehow gotten to the back of your neck, holding you close to him.

You whimpered with confusion when you felt his other hand moving up your leg and slipping under your nightgown.  He smiled against your lips when his fingertips brushed over your hips and he realized that you weren't wearing undergarments.  You internally cursed yourself for it, even though it was normal not to wear anything underneath a gown like this.  What was abnormal was what he was doing.

"You're so smooth, and soft," he murmured, just barely pulling back from the kiss, "and I know you want me so bad—"

Just as his hand started to move dangerously close to somewhere it was definitely not supposed to be, you reached down and stopped him by grabbing his forearm.  

"D-don't," you managed to stammer out.

"Don't?" he repeated incredulously.  "Well, why not?"

"It's wrong…" you explained weakly.

"Such a good little girl, just like always," he chuckled. "You haven't changed at all.  Except, of course, this incredible body…"

It was much too easy for him to wriggle out of your grip, pulling out from your nightgown only to reach up and roughly grab your breasts through it.  Your face was burning and your gut sank with fear— and yet, there was a paradoxical tingle of arousal burning between your legs.

"You've grown a lot while I was gone," Bucky noticed aloud, groaning softly as he felt you up.  "Almost didn't recognize you when I stepped in.  I saw those gorgeous legs of yours and thought, 'who's the fox and what's she doing in my house?'  Of course, by the time I'd realized it was my kid sister, it was too late."

"It's not too late," you desperately assured, "you can stop now, and we won't tell anybody, and it'll be like nothing ever happened—"

You stopped as he started laughing lowly, shaking his head.  "Sweetheart, I'm not coming back from this, don't you understand?  You were all I thought about while I was gone.  You're the only girl I ever loved."

His hips pressed forward and you gasped when you felt his erection pressing into your thigh.  You bit down on your lip to keep it from quivering; for some reason, you didn't want him to know how scared you were.

"Feel that?" he asked, grinning when you nodded nervously.  "That's how much I love you."

You stammered helplessly as he reached down between your legs again.  

"Time to find out how much you love me," he purred, and you were frozen; paralyzed.  Two of his thick fingers swiped through your folds, gathering the arousal they found there.  "Oh, you love me quite a lot."

"I— I don't—"

"Take this thing off," he demanded suddenly, grabbing your nightgown.  You shook your head.  "I'm not gonna ask you again," he informed you sternly.  "Take it off or I'm gonna rip it off'a you."

You shook your head again, tears flowing freely until you felt wet patches beside your face on your pillow.

Bucky growled and manhandled you onto your back, grabbing at your nightgown and pushing your arms out of the way when they reached up to cover your chest.

He tore through it like it was paper.  "Look at you," he murmured in awe, "all grown up."

"James," you sobbed, "what are you doing?!"

"I'm taking care of you!" he responded, seemingly confused that you would even ask that.  "You're my baby sister; I promised to always take care of you and I meant it."

"This isn't right," you whispered, partially to him but mostly to yourself.

"This is the only thing that's right," Bucky disagreed, leaning down a little to hover over you as he began to push his pants down.

You recoiled when you saw his cock; you hadn't seen one before, except in drawings.  They hadn’t prepared you for this.  His looked big, red at the tip like it was angry; leaking and throbbing like it was desperate.

"You a virgin, sissy?" he asked in a way that made it hard to tell if he was being genuine or mocking you.

You nodded; you'd promised to be honest, after all.

"You were saving yourself for me," he informed you, and before you could deny it, he continued, saying everything like it was obvious fact.  "You knew you needed me. You knew you'd only be satisfied by your big brother's cock."

You shook your head as tears welled in your eyes, your protests muffled as he roughly kissed you again.  You tried to push him away but he was like marble, hard and unyielding.  You felt his sex sliding over yours and it made you feel dizzy and a little nauseous.

"You know how long I've dreamed of being inside you?" he asked darkly, his lips brushing against your ear.  "You know how long I've wanted to get a taste of this perfect little cunt?  I'll give you a hint: it was before I left."

He ignored your sobs of fear and cries of pain, and pushed his hips forward; he groaned as his cock forced your walls to part, and you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

"Oh god," he moaned weakly when he bottomed out, "oh my fucking god… you feel so perfect, sissy.  You feel so fucking good, I swear I could come right now.  I could fill you up—" he pulled back out most of the way and shuddered— "right fucking now."

"N-no, Jamie," you sobbed, "you have to pull out, you can't come inside!"

"Why not?" he pouted, slamming into you so hard that you were forced to choke out your cry of pain.  "I think you want it.  I think I deserve it.  I could get you pregnant and then you'd be mine forever."

"No!" you sobbed.  "Please, you can't!"

"I can," he assured you coldly through his teeth, his arm wrapping around your neck to hold you steady as he fucked into you.  "I can, little girl, and I'm gonna."

Tears streamed down your face, even as you let yourself admit that your brother's movements inside you did feel… intriguing, to say the least.  He buried his face into your neck, fucking you deep but slow.  You'd never felt so full before; you wrapped your legs around his hips before you could stop yourself.

"Fuck," he groaned, "you want me so damn bad, don't you?  You always wanted me.  I remember how you got so jealous when I lost it to Betsy Miller."

As sick as it was, you had; and even now, imagining him doing this with her made your stomach twist.

"You want me all to yourself, don't you, sissy?"

Shamefully, you nodded.

"Aw, it's okay," he soothed.  "You've got me, sis.  'M never gonna leave ya.  We're gonna be together forever, just like we always said."

That was all you'd ever wanted.  Why did it sound so terrifying now?

"I can feel you squeezin' me, babydoll.  I know you wanna come all over my cock," he taunted.

"N-no," you stumbled over your denial, but pleasure was searing through you faster than you could handle it.

"Beg me to fill up this little pussy," he instructed as his eyes got darker and a hand wrapped around your throat.  "Beg or you don't get to breathe."

"Please," you moaned through your tears, "please, fill up my— my little pussy…"

"Yeah?  You want my come?"

He started thrusting faster and you could feel the way your arousal had spread to coat both his thighs and yours; why was your body so responsive?

"Please, Jamie, I want your come," you repeated.  "I need it…"

"I know you do," he snarled, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes.  "I know you do, baby, I know you need my come."

"Please…" you repeated one last time, the word coming out choked and weak as you felt your own orgasm starting to crash into you, your whole body tightening involuntarily.

"Fuck, I can feel you coming— 'm close, sissy, I'm not gonna last much— oh fuck—!"

His hips stuttered to a stop and you winced as you felt him flexing inside you, pumping his load into you for what felt like ages.

He collapsed on top of you with a sigh and a smile.  "I wanted to last longer, even jerked off in the shower to try to take the edge off but… you just felt too good."

You were silent and still beneath him as he rambled, kissing away your tears between each word.

"I'll take better care of you next time, sis, don't worry.  Wanna make you come with just my tongue," he announced excitedly.  "But that'll wait until tomorrow.  Tonight you just relax, and don't move too much so I can stay inside you.  It's the only way I'm gonna be able to sleep."

He hugged you all night, drifting off even while you were wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

You were horrified at what your brother had become, and at what he had done to you.  But that wasn't what kept you awake.  No, you couldn't sleep because you were too busy trying to deny how much you had enjoyed it.