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buckybabesonly · 2 years

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Heart of Glass

Summary: You hate it when Bucky is mad, but it's a thousand times worse when you're the one he's mad at.

Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Insecure reader, self-deprecation, self-harm (?)

A/N: I love stories like these so thought I'd take a stab at it. Please do leave feedback, they are always encouraging!

Length: 4.8k

It had taken Bucky a long time to open up to you. His journey of being able to face what he had done as the Winter Soldier was long and arduous, and still ongoing. He had vivid nightmares, ones which alleviated in frequency over the course of the last few years, but which still sometimes made an unwelcome appearance.

His own healing was a work in progress, so it was no surprise that it was still a struggle for him to divulge certain aspects to you. He found it difficult letting himself be vulnerable, even around people he trusted, and insight into his past had been offered to you in scattered pieces.

You had been patient, although you wished that Bucky would feel comfortable revealing more. You never judged him, and you just wanted to help and do your part in the recovery process, if you could. It was much worse hearing the exacerbated, hateful stories of the Winter Soldier from other people’s mouths - the Internet was a horrid place, and whilst there were still a lot of people who supported Bucky Barnes and the Avengers in general, there were just as many people who would not forgive him for being the Winter Soldier.

You knew that you shouldn’t have done what you did. You and Bucky had been together for just over a year, friends for three times that long. It hadn’t all been flowers and rainbows - it had been a tumultuous relationship and you had had your ups and downs, but at the end of the day, you knew you had found your person. You were both learning and growing together, navigating the tougher obstacles in your relationship with enthusiasm. You had finally found someone you were truly madly in love with, and you felt so lucky.

It wasn’t easy, working for S.H.I.E.L.D as an agent which was a demanding career in itself, and dating someone who was almost in constant danger and carrying out often life-threatening missions. But you made it work. Getting to love Bucky and have him love you back was worth anything, and you loved being able to see him smile and, what’s more, being his reason to smile.

On the same token, you hated seeing him unhappy. It was the most devastating feeling in the world, in times when he was disappointed in himself, or when he had woken up from a particularly bad nightmare, or after one of his mandated therapy sessions.

The worst thing was seeing him mad. And it’s a thousand times worse when you’re the one he’s mad at.

You knew that you shouldn’t have done it. You felt guilty as you passed your colleagues desk and your eyes naturally flickered to a familiar name in recognition. BARNES, JAMES BUCHANAN.

You frowned slightly, realizing that his file was on a pile alongside a couple of other familiar names. It wasn’t unusual for another agent to have his file out, particularly if he was looking into specific incidents that Bucky may have been involved in the past, but you had never actually seen it in front of you before.

Of course, it would have been easy for you to find the file and look for yourself. Everything had electronic copies these days, or you could have grabbed the physical copies from the archive. But you had never done it, as it just didn’t feel right. Reading up on your boyfriend’s past like his life was a history book.

Still, despite yourself, you paused. You found your hand reaching out and you took a deep breath of momentary hesitation before you flicked open the file.

An assortment of photos and documents were stacked neatly inside. You couldn’t help it as you found your eyes consuming the information, flicking from page to page. The guilt was building in your gut the longer you spent, standing slightly crouched over the desk, consuming the information with an uncomfortable lump in your throat.

You wanted to cry. You felt your hate for HYDRA increase ten-fold, thinking about all the pain they inflicted on Bucky to manipulate him into their own personal killing machine, thinking about how they had simply made him hurt all those people. Bucky often had the most stoic, cool exterior, but you knew inside he was just your soft, gentle boyfriend. The most beautiful man you knew had been forced to be an assassin against his will.

And now he had to live with the consequences. It’s so unfair, you thought as tears of anger pricked your eyes. You were a very empathetic person, especially when it came to him, and you found yourself feeling quietly furious.

You slammed the file shut, conflicted emotions making you feel both angry and guilty. You always had an idea of what HYDRA had made Bucky do, of course, but actually consuming the detail within his file had made it come to life in your mind. All you wanted during the course of your time with Bucky was to get a better view from his shoes, if only to help you relate a bit more to his suffering. You loved him so much and you wanted nothing more than to help him.

At the same time, you knew it wasn’t right, snooping like this. You always told yourself to just wait, and eventually Bucky would trust you enough to share everything.

You started to wonder if you had done something wrong as you slowly walked away from the desk, nibbling your bottom lip. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, frowning as the contents of the file plagued your mind. You decided you would have to come clean to Bucky about this.

“What?” Bucky said quietly, cocking his head to the side as if he really had genuinely misheard you. However, as you studied the look in his eyes, you knew that he had heard every word.

“I know it was wrong. Bucky, I’m - “

“If you knew it was wrong, then why did you do it?” Bucky interrupted, his eyebrows drawing together as he frowned. Anger was starting to distort his face, and he kept his voice quiet and low.

You were mute for a long minute, your cheeks flushing as he stared at you, waiting for you to speak. You were both stood in your bedroom, you with your back against the window and his against the door. The distance between you felt painful.

“Do you know what a violation of my privacy that is?” he continued when you didn’t speak, his jaw twitching.

“I was just trying to - just trying to understand,” you said, trying to find the right words. “I just thought that if I knew what they did to you, then I could help you.”

“How would you be able to help?” Bucky was furious, but in that quiet, almost calm way that frightened you the most. His brow was slightly furrowed, corners of lips turned down into a frown, but the biggest giveaway was his clenched fists. They were shaking almost impercetibly.

It was scarier when he didn’t raise his voice, and your fingers twitched uncomfortably by your sides, wanting to reach out to him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I thought that if I could understand what happened, then maybe I could help with your nightmares, help talk to you about the past.”

Bucky exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “Are you my therapist? What were you hoping to do, read my entire past and diagnose me?” He regarded you with a look of bewilderment and fury.

“No, I - “

“No, listen,” Bucky said, frustration rising in his throat, breaking his barely composed facade. “Do you have any idea how messed up that is? There’s a reason why I didn’t tell you everything at my own pace, and you went behind my back and fucking investigated me? How do you think that makes me feel? You couldn’t even respect me enough to let me tell you out of my own choice!”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You knew you had fucked up majorly. He was glaring at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I really didn’t have any bad intentions, I just - “

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky spat out. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t have any bad intentions. You think I’m proud of what I did as the fucking Winter Soldier? It haunts me, and I have to live with him for the rest of my fucking life. I - I trusted you, and you betrayed it.”

I let out a slight whimper at his words, knowing the venomous words he was spitting out was completely true.

“I have to fight so hard, every day, not to fall apart with the knowledge and memories of what the Winter Soldier did, what I did.”

“Bucky, please,” you said, taking a step forward, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that, I am so, so sorry.”

Bucky shook his head, moving away from me and lifting his hands as a warning. “Don’t. Just - don’t.”

He turned his back, making to leave.

“Can we just talk about this?” you asked desperately, not wanting him to go. You were terrified that he wouldn’t come back.

“I need some space,” Bucky said sharply without turning to look back at you. He left and pulled the door shut with such force that you jumped, tears finally escaping.

You had no idea how you were going to fix this.

Bucky and you had one rule. Never go to bed angry at each other.

It was a rule you had instigated. You hated going to bed whilst you were in the throes of a fight, and the first time you had argued - something petty, really - you had pouted at Bucky and demanded that you make up.

He was relieved at that time as it was such a silly fight and he was anxious that you would give him the silent treatment. But he laughed as you jumped into his arms, kissing his cheek and letting him know all was forgiven.

“New rule - we can’t go to bed angry at each other,” you had announced at the time.

“Yes, my liege,” Bucky had responded.

Bucky wasn’t answering your calls or texts. You left 15 voicemails and 24 text messages, all apologizing and asking him to talk. You knew you should give him space, as it was only fair for him to digest what had happened and process, but you felt like you couldn’t function.

You wanted him by your side so you could apologize over and over again and tell him, genuinely, how regretful you were.

There was no excuse. Your face was tear-stained and eyes puffy as you paced your apartment, the clock having struck midnight a long time ago, with no sight of Bucky.

When four AM rolled round, you finally passed out on the couch whilst waiting for him. When your alarm rudely woke you up at seven, you startled and immediately ran into the bedroom, although you knew he wouldn’t be there.

The bed was empty, still made from the previous morning and untouched.

You could cry all over again.

You hurried to get ready nonetheless, and made your way to the Avengers Tower. You were involved in some S.H.I.E.L.D projects that were being hosted there, and you knew it was the place Bucky was most likely to be.

You checked your phone obsessively on the way to the Tower. No calls or messages from Bucky.

You groaned internally. He had never ignored you like this before. The gravity of the situation was slowly growing heavier and heavier - he was your Bucky, the one who always took care of you and worried over you and was by your side almost 24/7 whenever he wasn’t out on a mission, but now he was actively avoiding you.

More and more fear started to creep into the mix alongside the guilt. Would Bucky leave you over this?

When you arrived at the Tower, you expected it to be a lot harder to find him than it was. But he was in the training room, the first place you looked.

“Bucky,” you said quietly as soon as you saw him. He was serving blows mercilessly to a punching bag hung from the ceiling, as if he needed the practice. You knew he was letting off steam. He was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair hanging over his forehead in sweaty tendrils, his face slightly red.

Bucky barely even flinched. He didn’t acknowledge you at all, eyes never leaving the bag in front of him.

“Can we talk?” you asked tentatively.

No response.

“Bucky, if you don’t reply, I’m just going to start talking at you, and I really don’t want to do that,” you said. All you wanted him to do was at least look at you.

Bucky stopped then and you heaved a sigh of relief. But instead of speaking, he simply wrapped a towel around his shoulders and turned his back on you, leaving out of the door on the other side of the room.

You felt rocks fall to the bottom of your stomach, and the urge to cry reared its ugly head yet again.

Bucky hadn’t spoken to you for two days. He hadn’t returned to your apartment for two days.

You had cried all of those days. You tried to find him and corner him to make him face you, but after that day in the training room, he had really been avoiding you. You had only seen him once in those two days, and he immediately disappeared as soon as he saw you.

It hurt so much. Like someone had stabbed you and, what’s more, was twisting the handle.

You knew you deserved it. You had really hurt Bucky, but part of you was still terrified of what he would do. How long would he wait until he decided to speak to you again? Was he going to break up with you?

You didn’t know how to fix it. You were ashamed to tell Sam, even though you wanted to ask his advice on what to do. You had done something so bad that you didn’t want to face his disappointment, too, although you were certain Bucky may have already told him.

Still, it hurt so bad. All you wanted Bucky to do was hug you and tell you it was alright, instead you were met with indifference and the back of his head. He wouldn’t even look at you.

You would rather he shouted at you, screamed at you, anything to actually make him talk and acknowledge your existence. But he continued to ice you out, and your heart was breaking.

Bucky knew he loved you even before you officially became a couple. He loved how funny you were, how hard working you were, how you always listened to his side of the story, how you took care of him and patiently explained anything to him that he still didn’t quite understand about the modern world.

There were a lot of great women, but to Bucky, you had stood out. From day one, you had cared about him. Little things, like asking about his favorite songs from the 40s, making sure his head was covered with your umbrella when it was raining even though your shoulder was getting wet, ensuring he got three solid meals a day and that his favorite snacks were stored in the pantry.

Bigger things, too, like letting him share the burden of his past with you without ever a word of judgment or disdain, encouraging him to visit his parents’ grave on the anniversary of their death and making the journey with him, sharing memories of Steve whenever Bucky was missing him. You were his rock, and he felt like he had mined the most precious diamond.

He knew he could tell you anything, but his sordid past as the Winter Soldier was still something he was trying to overcome himself. He was ashamed, and part of him was worried that you would suddenly think less of him. See him as the monster that he used to be, the monster that he sometimes saw himself as.

He hated the thought of poisoning your mind with unsavory images of himself and the knowledge of what he had done.

He was so angry to know that you saw his file. But the majority of his feelings came from the fact that he was so laden with guilt. He didn’t want you to know the ugly truth when all you had seen of him so far was the better version of himself that he was trying to be.

How could he forget his past when you knew every disgusting detail now, too? When you had now also seen the faces of all the people he had killed?

At the same time, he believed you when you said you were just trying to help. That was just your nature. He knew that you genuinely thought if you understood, you could offer assistance and ease his silent torment.

But anger prevailed, and he found himself ignoring you for days, even though he felt so immature doing it. He just couldn’t face you right now, even as you stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He could barely avoid meeting your gaze and instead chose to turn away completely, as if pretending you weren’t there would alleviate the pain. He was afraid that if he looked at you a little too long, his resolve would shatter.

It was exceptionally poor timing that your birthday rolled around after five days of total radio silence from Bucky. You had forgotten, actually, until you entered the Tower and a fellow agent had wished you a happy birthday.

You gave her a weak smile as you muttered some made up plans about how you would be celebrating.

You wanted to burst out crying when you saw Bucky that morning, in the kitchen at the Tower.

He was leaning against the kitchen island, a smile on his face, a smile you hadn’t seen for almost a week. He was talking to an agent, a decent girl you had worked with before. You liked her, actually, as did a lot of people. He was talking to her about something, looking more relaxed than you had seen him since you had the fight.

He hadn’t noticed you as you observed the two of them. You didn’t think anything flirtatious was going on, but still, it hurt to see him smiling softly at someone else when he hadn’t paid you any attention for so long.

Part of you wasn’t sure if Bucky was going to speak to you today. But it was your birthday, after all - he always made a big deal out of it, asking you what you wanted to do and making sure you got a cake and flowers and all the romantic works. He always told you that you were his greatest gift, and so he couldn’t miss celebrating the day that you were brought into the world.

If he didn’t speak to you today, you think you would be sick.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize the agent Bucky was talking to was leaving, and as she walked past you, you felt Bucky’s eyes on you. You met his gaze hesitantly, blinking wordlessly.

He paused, and you could almost see the gears turning in his brain as he decided what to do.

His smile dissipated, and he turned his back on you.

When you returned home that night, you cried your eyes out. You sat on the couch forlornly, staring at the door, half-expecting him to burst through at any moment with an apology and kisses waiting to be pressed onto your lips.

Midnight struck, and you went to bed alone.

Six days.

Bucky had not spoken to you in six days, and honestly, he felt like shit.

He had never been so angry at you before, but he was surprised at himself that his silent streak had lasted so long. To be honest, the time had passed quickly, as he had kept himself as busy as possible.

As Bucky came down from his angry high, the feeling of guilt and sadness overwhelmed him at the thought of you being unhappy. He knew that this period of time would be tough on you, although he stood by his point that you should not have read his file behind his back, especially as you knew how sensitive he was about his past.

And yet, ultimately, he recalled that you only had his best interests at heart, even if you were going about it the wrong way. He sighed as he approached the Tower elevator, stepping inside just as Sam came running down the hallway, shouting at him to hold.

Bucky stabbed the close door button repeatedly, cursing as Sam slid past just in the nick of time, punching him playfully.

“You in a mood, princess?” he snickered, taking note of the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes. “You been up all night with your girl?”

Bucky let out a tsk. He sighed as the elevator descended.

“No. Haven’t spoken to her actually,” he admitted.

“Woah, wait. What do you mean?” Sam asked when he realized Bucky was being serious.

“Had a fight,” Bucky said reluctantly.

Sam frowned lightly. “On her birthday?”

Bucky froze as he opened his mouth to clarify that the fight had began a few days ago. His mind racked to confirm today’s date.

Shit. It was your birthday yesterday.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky said, head lolling back to bash against the glass elevator wall.

“You okay, man?” Sam asked, clearly concerned.

“I messed up,” he sighed in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, now he wanted to cry. How could he do this to you? He was already beginning to feel like he’d gone overboard with his reaction as the days passed and the red haze of anger dissolved from his eyes, clouding his better judgment, but now he truly felt like he had gone about everything so wrongly.

You had always gone on about the importance of communication in a relationship, and how you both needed to work together to overcome any challenges, and that one of the things you valued the most was being open and honest.

He imagined you sat alone at home, on your birthday, waiting expectantly for him to turn up.

His chest hurt.

You lay down in bed as the sun set, darkness filling the room.

You had the covers over your head as the tears wet your pillow, your head hurting so much from all the crying and dehydration.

Your world was truly coming down around you. You were about to lose the best thing that had ever happened to you. Bucky was going to leave you, and it was your fault. The past few days had really unveiled your most deep rooted fear, that the love of your life was going to abandon you.

“You’re so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “So stupid. So fucking stupid.”

You ignored the incessant buzzing of your phone. Your friends had been calling you since your birthday yesterday, concerned that you hadn’t picked up even once. You didn’t care. If Bucky wasn’t here, then you just wanted to be alone.

You always knew you weren’t good enough for him. Always knew that he would leave you eventually. Out of all the people in the world, what on earth would make him choose you?

You threw the covers off of you as a new surge of rage overwhelmed you.

“You are so fucking stupid!” you screamed out loud, letting the anger seep through your body, expel through your lungs. You stormed over to your mirror and punched the glass once, twice, until it cracked and sliced your knuckles, blood trickling immediately over your hand.

Bucky was going to leave you.

Your knees buckled and you collapsed onto the floor, head hanging as tears dripped down onto the carpet.

“So stupid,” you continued in a whisper. “So useless, so stupid, so -”

“What the fuck are you doing?” came a loud voice, and your head snapped up with such speed that your head spun.

Bucky was standing in the open doorway, expression aghast as he took in the sight of you. Red, swollen eyes, bleeding hand, sitting in front of the broken mirror.

“Bucky,” you said weakly, voice trembling. He had come back to break up with you.

You always knew he would do it eventually. Your relationship was too good to be true.

“Oh my god,” Bucky hissed as he darted forward, moving down on his knees to join you and gently lifting your wounded hand. “What have you done?”

You started to cry again, feeling so pathetic. Bucky shook his head, eyes frantic.

“No, no, no, doll, please don’t cry,” he said, his voice softening.

“I’m sorry,” you garbled, voice thick with guilt. “I know I fucked up, I know. I’m so sorry Bucky. Please don’t leave me.”

The desperation in your voice broke Bucky’s heart. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could without hurting you, pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“Listen to me. I’m not going to leave you,” he said firmly. He pulled back and studied your face carefully, trying to keep his voice steady for your sake. “I need to patch you up, okay?”

You sniffled, nodding once before he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared with a first aid kit, kneeling down once more and inspecting your hand.

“Why did you do that, doll?” he murmured, a pained look in his eyes as he began to clean you up. It wasn’t a serious injury, just a scratch compared to some of the other battle wounds you had received in the past, but the idea that you had done that to yourself made Bucky so sad.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I’m just - I don’t know. I’m so angry at myself. Please will you forgive me? For everything?”

Bucky’s eyes welled up as he paused with his tending to your hand, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. You were the most important person in the world to him and he had been pushing you away, had completely forgotten your birthday, and you had hurt yourself because of him when all you wanted was to help him.

“I forgive you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” you insisted as he resumed cleaning your wound. You could see his eyes were wet, and you were nonplussed at why that would be.

“Yes, there is,” Bucky said, wearing a look of shame that you didn’t understand. “I know that your heart is always in the right place. Instead of talking to you about it, I just shut you out. No matter how angry I was, I shouldn’t have done that. I hurt you.”

He worked quickly, bandaging your hand and slowly holding your wrist after. His solemn blue eyes finally met yours.

“I love you so much. I should have stayed to talk, but I just… left. I shouldn't have done that.” He took a deep breath. “I walked away because I couldn’t stand the thought of you knowing everything. Knowing all the people I’ve killed - some of them innocent people. Read about how cold I was, the - the complete lack of mercy I showed. I am a monster.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, lifting your good hand to tenderly touch his face. You were hesitant, as if you were afraid he would withdraw from your touch. Instead, he leaned against your palm, eyes closed. He turned to press a kiss into your hand.

“I thought - “ you began, taking a deep breath at the insecurity and uncertainty that still plagued you. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”

Bucky’s eyes opened to stare at you forlornly, as if hurt that you would even have this thought.

“Never,” he said firmly. “You have no idea how much I have missed you.”

You launched yourself into his arms then, willing Bucky’s strong arms to encircle you. He did just that, holding you close as you sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

“Let me make it up to you, okay?” Bucky murmured. “Belated birthday celebration.”

“It’s enough that you’re here,” you whispered.

You still had a lot to talk about, but you felt so much better now that Bucky was standing by your side again. Maybe everything was going to be alright.

#bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky one shot #bucky angst one shot #bucky x you fight

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harrysfolklore · 1 year

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this picture i need it in a bubba blurb ASAPPPPP -🫶

OKAY HEREEEEE

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

“Daddy?”

A soft voice calling for him made its way to Harry’s ears, a voice that belonged to his three year old son, who was curiously peeking his head inside his home studio.

Ever since his little boy was born, Harry made the decision to switch everything up regarding his career, taking longer breaks between albums and tours and building a full equipped music studio in his home. He just didn’t want to be away from his wife and son, specially during his first years of life.

“Hey buddy, what are you doing over there?” Harry said as he moved his hands away from the piano tiles and looked over at the little boy who was just a replica of him: same green eyes, dimples and brown curls. It blew anyone’s mind when they saw how alike they looked.

He had been working on the same melody all day, he was in the process of writing his 5th studio album, the first one as a father, and he wanted everything to be perfect. The album was all about fatherhood, falling in love with his wife all over again and overall this new chapter of his life, he was happier than ever and that’s what the songs he had been writing told.

“Come here, baby,” Harry opened his arms, motioning the little boy to join him “I’ve missed you, would you like a cuddle?” his son curiously dragged his small feet across the room, Harry had noticed how much he liked his studio, and how fond of music his son was, always asking his mummy to play his favorite songs around the house and his daddy to sing for him. It warmed Harry’s heart every single time.

“Cuddle daddy.” the little boy mumbled as he climbed on the piano’s bench -with Harry’s help, of course- and placed himself on his lap. If there was something that Harry wouldn’t change for anything was cuddling his son, so when his baby adjusted himself on his lap and buried his face on his ribs, putting his little arms around his broad frame, he could feel his heart growing twice is size.

Harry kissed the little mop of curls and lingered his lips on the crown of his baby’s head, sometimes he couldn’t quite understand how he got so lucky to have the perfect little family. He found his soulmate when he was 22 and knew he wanted to marry her, he put a ring on her finger at 29 and now, at 31, he had a little bundle of joy that was a mixture of him and the love of his life.

Life couldn’t get any better.

So with a full heart and a sudden burst of inspiration, he went back to playing melodies on the piano, careful not to disturb the little boy in his arms.

“Music?” the boy beamed as he moved his little face from its position on his dad’s ribs, and Harry couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm over hearing him play “That’s right bubba, daddy’s playing music, you like when daddy does that, don’t you?” Harry cooed, he was man enough to admit that his little boy made him melt with every single thing he did.

“Play daddy” his son said as he sat up straight on his lap, his gaze fixed on the piano in front of him, and since his wish is Harry's command, he continued playing soft melodies for him.

Harry wanted to take that moment in and save it forever, he was unaware at that moment, but his wife was standing at the door frame, capturing the both of them in a picture that would be part of his album's booklet in the future.

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earthry · 1 year

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Could you possibly do hc’s for Secondo with a reader who is very sweet and bubbly and who is in their own band? :)))

Absolutely holy shit yes ✨💕

mostly sfw, suggestive content towards the end but kept vague, fluff and romance, papa emeritus ii x gn!reader

Meeting Secondo

Ghost and your band were both attending an annual music award ceremony— most people were steering clear of Ghost with the ghouls all crowded together and Secondo looking menacing in his full regalia and staff. You, however, were excited to see them! Your band wasn’t too popular, but had been lucky enough to be nominated for a minor category to reckon an invitation. You enjoy their music so you’re happy to meet them.

You introduce yourself with a smile, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you cheerily hold your hand out for a shake. You are the complete opposite of Secondo— bright colors decorated with cute butterfly motifs, cheery laugh lines kissing the corners of your eyes. All the ghouls stop talking, their gazes pinned on you and for a moment, there’s no response from Secondo except for silently regarding you almost analytically.

When there’s no response and several beats pass, you deflate visibly at the lack of response and begin to withdraw your hand. Before you can fully bring your hand back however, Secondo moves to take it in his.

You expect him to shake your hand, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brings it up to his lips and presses the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt against the back of your hand. You can feel heat begin to spread across your cheeks, coursing through your veins as you fight yourself not to stutter. His voice is a low purr when he finally speaks.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please forgive my rudeness— I simply have not seen such a light shine like you before.”

Becoming Friends, Falling in Love

The two of you go separate ways, your bands touring on what seems like the other side of the world from each other. You give him your number, and your warm glow of enthusiasm and the way your eyes fall into crescents when you are happy are too captivating to resist. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Secondo can’t seem to stop himself from texting you often. He is new to the concept of sending memes and funny videos to each other but he catches on quick. He often catches himself chuckling at his phone when he opens up messages from you and more than once has his ghouls asked him about it.

You are much different from most people he’s met; but most of all is that you were not scared of him and you did not expect anything of him. He was simply Secondo to you. Not Papa Emeritus II, not the man he hates that the Ministry has molded him into. Of course he’s still a sarcastic bitter old man, but you are never deterred. You bounce back twice as eagerly with a smile just as bright and he finds himself weak to it.

It’s a slow burn. Of selfies and landscapes sent back and forth while the two of you travel separate ways. Watching blurry YouTube clips of each other’s concerts, mouthing the words and closing your eyes while you listen, trying to pretend you’re there. Phone calls on speaker as you putter in the green room before a show— sometimes one of you will get ready a little sooner simply so the two of you could chat and apply makeup together at the same time. It felt like closeness, like a pact or a secret place only you two knew. Your band mates and Secondo’s ghouls learned not to bug the two of you during these little makeup dates (though the two of you would also deny it as a dates) unless it was an emergency.

Before every one of his shows, you always send Secondo a text message right before the ritual starts, wishing him luck and to be safe. You tell him you are cheering for him and you wish you could be there. You send an impressive amount of emojis and all he sends back is a thumbs up emoji but you know he’s over the moon, you know he doesn’t feel quite settled or ready enough until you send that message and so you never forget to.

Reunion

You fall back in orbit at the next music awards ceremony, and suddenly you’re back in the same spot you were only a year ago. This time, you don’t have to introduce yourself but Secondo takes your hand and brings it to his lips again all the same.

“Tesoro mio, it’s been a while, si?”

You don’t kiss until you are in the privacy of his hotel room, his hands around your wrists pinning them above your head as he hungrily devours your lips. They are exactly as he’d thought they’d taste and sweeter.

Perhaps this is also the first time Secondo is met with smiles and giggles in the bedroom as you undress and let him take you. He finds that you are easily ticklish and that the petals of laughter coaxed from you are beginning to become his favorite sound.

#the band ghost #secondo #ghost band #ghoul #ghost bc #papa secondo #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus ii #secondo x reader #papa ii #papa 2 #papa emeritus x reader #headcanons #asks

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jaimeslanisters · 2 years

Text

the pawn in every lover's game (part two)

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

when you’re ten, your father sends you to king’s landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. a lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 3.7k notes: this fic is blending show and book canon btw! just really picking and choosing what i want! also this goes out to everyone else who is stressed about taylor swift tickets going on presale tomorrow. wishing everyone luck! (also let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list)

At Casterly Rock, your younger sister Jeyne fancied herself something of a playwright. She would write little skits, based on songs and fairy tales, and she would beg and beg for you and your older sisters to participate. Cerelle usually begged off - she was always so busy with your lady mother, always focused on the possibility that she could be her father’s heir if a son didn’t come soon - but you and Tyshara always caved into Jeyne’s wishes. Tyshara was awkward acting, forever fearful of looking silly, but you always threw yourself wholeheartedly into your roles, acting your heart out with a passion that rivaled actual actors. Your youngest sister, Joy, would clap and cheer as she watched though you were never certain that she actually understood what was happening.

Joy would certainly be clapping your performance now.

With a practiced step, you turn the corner in the library and let out a small gasp, looking to all the world as if you are utterly stunned to see another person hidden behind stacks and stacks of books. Aemond looks up at the sound, quill slowing in his hand, and you quickly drop into a curtsey.

“My apologies, my prince,” you say, embuing fluster into your words. “I did not expect to find anyone else here.”

Aemond rises to his feet, bowing his head slightly. “It’s no problem,” he replies, eyes flitting down to the book in your arms. “Are you reading Watchers on the Wall?”

You nod, moving closer. “After you mentioned it last week, I decided to try it.”

“And? What did you think?”

“Fascinating,” you breathe out, not faking your enthusiasm. Whenever you weren’t with Helaena, you were absolutely neck-deep in the thick tome. “To be honest, I’m only well versed in Westerlands history. I’ve never really studied the stories of the wall and I didn’t really know much, if anything, of the Nightfort.”

Aemond looks cautiously pleased. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it?”

You smile, nodding your head and moving to stand next to the prince’s table. “It seems impossible that something could be so old, so filled with magic. I sometimes doubt the Others ever existed or that the Long Night ever happened.”

He raises a brow. “You’re a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Your bloodline traces back to the Age of Heroes and the Rock is even older than that. Is it really so surprising that things can be ancient?”

“You’re not wrong, my prince, but reading Watchers on the Wall, you can swear that the Wall is older than my family’s seat of power even though they were both established around roughly the same time. It certainly seems that way with all the magic.” You slide into a seat and note with pleasure that Aemond leans closer. “Casterly Rock isn’t known for being magical, after all, and whatever magic is in the wall has to be older than even the First Men.”

Aemond nods, reaching for the book in your hands, and tugging it his way, flipping it open. “What part did you get to?”

“The story of the Night’s King. I admittedly got caught up in it and bothered Maester Rodrik about it. He’s from the North, you know, so I figured he would have more information about the Night’s King and his corpse queen.”

He looks at you, a glimmer in his eyes telling you that he’s excited about new knowledge. You glow with pride. “And what did Maester Rodrik say?”

“He said that there are loads of theories about who the Night’s King actually is. Some say he was a Bolton or an Umber. Maester Rodrik told me that there are even claims that he was a Stark, the very brother of Brandon the Breaker who would ally with Joramun, the King Beyond the Wall, to save the North from his magic. After his defeat, the two Kings found evidence of some dark magic with the Others, and his name was erased from history for the shame of it.”

Aemond tilts his head. “Interesting. Wouldn’t that make it more likely that the Night’s King was a Stark?”

“Why would that be, my prince?” You ask.

“If the Night’s King was King Brandon’s brother, and Brandon was the one to strike him down, that would make Brandon the Breaker a kinslayer - even if it was for a good cause - and no one is as accursed as the kinslayer.”

“So you think that they erased the Night’s King's name to protect King Brandon from the shame?”

He nods, slowly as if he’s still thinking through his analysis. “It would make sense. If it was any other house, it might have done them some good to expose who it was, to solidify the strength of House Stark in the North.”

You shrug. “The Starks are the oldest Great House in Westeros. Their line has never been broken. They didn’t need to solidify their position in the North. They had held it for thousands of years prior and they continue to hold it even now.”

“Wherever there’s strength, others will always seek to steal it,” Aemond says, clearly parroting someone. “Maybe this great lie is what they needed to ensure their line would not break. Who would marry into a kinslaying family otherwise?”

You laugh at that. “I imagine there are a great deal more kinslayers in the history of the Seven Kingdom than anyone would like to believe. I’m sure there are kinslayers in every line.” You want to bring up the rumors of Queen Visenya and how people whispered that she murdered her own nephew to elevate her son to the throne but you hold back. Critiquing a founding member of his family might not endear you to him.

Aemond hums in response. “Did Maester Rodrik say anything about the corpse queen?”

“Nothing really. Some people think she was an Other but Maester Rodrik says she was probably the daughter of a Barrow King and people simply exaggerated her pale skin and blue eyes.”

He taps his fingers on the table. “Makes sense. It would tie in with the idea that the Night’s King was magic. His bride was magic and so he did magic and cursed the North. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“It makes sense but it’s not nearly as interesting.”

It disappears in a flash but Aemond grins at you and you straighten up, impossibly pleased. “You’re right. It isn’t.” With a hum, he pushes the book back to you and turns to look at his own books and notes splayed out in front of him.

As you move to get up, feeling dismissed, he glances back at you. “If you’re not busy, you can stay and read some more. There are other stories in the book that I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on.”

You smile, sliding back in your seat.

——————————–

After you and Helaena finish your lessons and the septa, a pious and strict woman, sweeps out of the room, the princess turns to you with a smile that you can only classify as mischievous.

“Would you like to come to the Dragonpit with me?” She asks, fiddling with the ends of her hair. “I haven’t flown Dreamfyre in a while.”

You pause, midway through putting up your lesson books. “You flew with her yesterday, my princess.”

Helaena laughs, the sound soft and tinkling. “And it’s been a while since then. Dreamfyre and I are bonded. I can feel her even now.”

“Are all bonds like that?” You ask, thinking of the glimpses of dragons you’ve seen from a distance. Every time you saw them, you always had to fight the urge to hide, paranoid of the massive beasts that had conquered and bent Westeros to the will of their masters.

She shakes her head. “Some. Not all. Aegon has the strongest bond I’ve ever seen with Sunfyre while there are stories of some members of my family not being too attached to their dragons. Even still, they’re a part of us.”

You nod slowly, finishing up your task as you think to yourself. In the past few weeks of meeting Aemond in the library, you had never once dared to bring up his lack of dragon though you knew it had to bother him greatly. Sometimes your meetings would line up with his training sessions at the Dragonpit and he would always return, sullen and angry and snappish. The first time it happened, you had asked him to clarify some part of the story of how House Baratheon was founded and he had rolled his eyes, muttering some obscenity you couldn’t fully make out under his breath in lieu of responding. You had stormed off, knowing if you had stayed, you would have fought back in rage and said something that could damage your tentative friendship.

To your surprise, the next time you had gone to see him in the library, prepared to swallow your pride and apologize just to land back in his good graces, he had actually apologized to you. You had sat stunned as he somehow stumbled his way through an apology, giving the distinct impression that he had never found a need to apologize to anyone outside of his family before. It had been a supremely awkward affair but you had accepted his apology and the rest of your time together went without a hitch.

The incident had taught you two things; that Aemond might genuinely consider you something resembling a friend since even if he was in a foul mood after the Dragonpit, he never again took it out on you and that you shouldn’t ever discuss anything remotely resembling his lack of a dragon.

As it stood, you had yet to venture with Helaena to the Dragonpit. You usually spent that time reading or observing Uncle Tyland at work. He was always willing to let you read whatever you were allowed to from his duties as Master of Ships. Back at Casterly Rock, you were hardly ever permitted to follow your father the few times he managed to get around to performing his duties. Your mother usually managed the work Lord Jason never did but Cerelle typically accompanied her and you always felt like you were getting in the way next to your sister with her intense drive to be the perfect heir if the duty fell to her.

“Dreamfyre is more than large enough to seat you with me if you’d like,” Helaena teases and you wince.

“Forgive me, princess, but I fear I’d make a rather embarrassing display if I were on top of a dragon.”

Helaena tilts her head, eyes unnaturally bright. “Lions will ride dragons someday.”

You snort. “Perhaps but that day will not be today. I will go with you but I will not be getting on a dragon with you.”

She smiles brightly at you.

——————————–

You fight down the urge to run as you trail behind Helaena who is practically bouncing into the Dragonpit. At the massive gates, a pair of dragonkeepers wait for the pair of you, forcing a smile on your face as you nod your head at them. Helaena greets them in High Valyrian and you stare up at the Dragonpit, tuning them out. It is truly a massive structure, looming so far up in front of you it hurts your neck to crane it back. Inside you can hear the occasional thundering roar and it sends shivers down your back.

Logically, you know you need to get over this fear. Your future seems tightly woven in with the Targaryens at this point. If you succeed in securing a marriage with Aemond, your own children will be dragonriders. Even if you fail, it’s hard to imagine a future where you aren’t by Helaena’s side in the Red Keep. Still, a small, treasonous voice in the back of your head whispers that dragons weren’t meant to be here, that no single person should hold that much power.

“Are you ready?” Helaena cheerfully calls and you jolt back to attention. She’s beaming at you, looking more alive than you’ve ever seen her.

You nod, clearing your throat. “Of course, Helaena.”

You’re a lioness of the Rock. You will not cower before the dragons.

Helaena and the dragonkeepers lead you in. You walk with your head high, pushing down your nerves as far as you can. The interior is practically cavernous but that only means that the rumblings of the dragons echo even more, surrounding you completely. Inside the massive domed pit, you can see that you’re not alone. Across the Pit, you can spot the princes, all of them, grouped together near a few dragonkeepers. Aegon is laughing with the Velaryon princes Jacaerys and Lucerys. Aemond stands alone, face serious as he stares down even deeper into the Dragonpit.

The noise your entrance makes draws all of their attention and Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys wave, making an absolute spectacle of themselves. You nod your head back, saving a smile for when Aemond tips his head at you and Helaena.

“Come now,” Helaena calls to you, her hand brushing your arm gently. You do your best not to gasp in shock at the surprise touch. “Dreamfyre awaits.”

Bowing your head, you follow behind as she heads into the Dragonpit, away from the main floor. Below the dome, the Dragonpit is little more than passages carved in stone, close and claustrophobic.

“Stay by my side, my lady,” a dragonkeeper says to you, bowing his head when you glance over at him. “Dreamfyre may not be pleased with your presence.”

“She won’t hurt you,” Helaena reassures you, not even looking back as she determinedly heads deeper and deeper into the twisting tunnels. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone I care about.”

You manage a smile at that. “ I’m glad to be one of those cherished few then, my princess.”

Eventually, you reach an area where the cave opens up. The opening is lit by a few torches but the cave is so massive that you can’t even see to the back. Dauntless, Helaena walks deeper in, her silver hair a beacon in the dark. You stay back, half-hidden behind the dragonkeepers, poised to bolt back into the relative safety of the tunnels if something were to go wrong.

“Dreamfyre!” The princess shouts before continuing in High Valyrian. There’s a moment of silence, where you hold your breath and steel your nerves before it feels like the very air vibrates around you, the low growl of a dragon responding shaking you down to your very bones. Deep in the dark, there’s a low red glow before the temperature skyrockets and a dragon, massive and shining a brilliant blue even in this dank cave, breathes out fire to the ceiling, the flames spreading.

Helaena laughs, absolutely delighted, and walks even closer to Dreamfyre. Your mind tells you that she’ll be fine, that her dragon would never harm her, but you’re so sorely tempted to dart forward and yank her back to safety. She touches a hand to Dreamfyre’s massive side as she passes and together, the two disappear into the back.

“She is exiting through the back entrance, my lady,” one dragonkeeper explains to you as the other walks into the darkness, trailing far beyond Helaena and Dreamfyre. “Do you wish to wait here or do you wish to go back up?”

You don’t respond immediately, too struck dumb still. You had seen dragons in the distance, swooping over the Blackwater or flying above the Red Keep, but you had never been so close. You had felt the excruciating heat of the flames when Dreamfyre had breathed out flames. You felt the very air shift as she moved.

No, you think to yourself. No single man should have that.

Quietly, you nod your assent and the dragonkeeper leads you back. When you reach the main floor, the princes are all facing a small (if it can even be called that) dragon, watching as it feasts on a shrieking lamb. Your stomach turns and you quickly turn away, walking away as fast as you can, resisting the urge to cover your ears to drown out the cries.

Outside the Dragonpit, you feel like you can breathe again and you raise a hand to your beating heart, taking deep breaths. Your cheeks flame with embarrassment and you head to the wheelhouse, standing outside of it. The thought of hiding away in the wheelhouse seems like an ever bigger humiliation so you stay outside, swinging your hands as you look up at the sky. Eventually, you see a blue flash that can only be Dreamfyre and your eyes widen with awe you track her flight, imagining sweet and caring Helaena on her back, laughing as she sours above King’s Landing.

You watch until she flies out of sight, your eyes straining to try and track her so far in the distance. You can’t even imagine being that high off the ground. Casterly Rock was almost impossibly tall, soaring into the sky, and sometimes you and Tyshara would visit the battlements at the very top to stare out at the Sunset Sea. You two would always stand close to each other, hands holding the other’s, as the wind was so fiercely strong that high up in the air that, at times, it felt like it could carry you right off. Sometimes, if you made the mistake of staring down the cliffs, the ground felt like it was shifting out from under you. Dragons could fly even higher than that and you can’t imagine feeling more secure on a dragon than on top of the mountain your home was carved into.

Your stomach churns at the thought and you look back down, reminding yourself that you’re standing steady on the ground.

You’re not alone for much longer when the gates of the Dragonpit open up and the princes all spill out.

“My shining lady of Lannister,” Aegon calls, his voice carrying far, and you suppress your wince at his name for you even as you walk closer, curtseying deep when you reach him and his companions. “How did you like the Dragonpit?”

“It was glorious, your highness,” you reply, smiling up at him. Behind him, you can see Aemond’s carefully blank face. “Truly a marvel.”

Aegon laughs as he moves closer, Jacearys and Lucerys practically at his elbow. “Did you like Dreamfyre?”

You nod your head, eying him. “Yes, my prince, she was beautiful. Princess Helaena’s control seems exceptional.”

“Arrax listens to me just as well,” Lucerys cuts in with all the bluster and confidence of an eight-year-old. You give him a smile, looking him up and down. You had never spent any significant time with the Velaryons, only brief greetings in the halls or during banquets, but try as you might, you could not find a single whisper of Ser Laenor’s features in his sons - either of them.

“Of course, my prince,” you reply, hiding your treasonous thoughts carefully. “I have no doubt you have the utmost control over your dragon.”

Aegon grins, something mean and mocking creeping into his pretty features, and you stiffen slightly. “Targaryens are bonded with their dragons for life, my lady. They’re a sign of our strength and… vitality. Without them, we’re just like anyone else.” He turns to grin at Aemond, laughing as if he had said a brilliant joke, before turning back to face you.

You don’t dare look to Aemond. You can only imagine his expression right now. “Is that true, my prince?” You trill instead. “What a grand blessing for Princess Helaena and Lady Laena.”

Aegon blinks at that.

You widen your eyes, looking up at the prince as innocently as you can manage. “Lady Laena claimed Vhagar, correct? She is the most massive dragon in the world. Princess Helaena has Dreamfyre, the next largest. I’ve never met Lady Laena so I cannot testify to her character but I am dear friends with Princess Helaena. She is strong and positively full of life. I’m so glad that you can give the female members of your family such high praise!”

The prince doesn’t respond, simply giving you a cool glance over, and your smile grows. With the smallest of scoffs, he turns away, heading to his own wheelhouse beyond yours and Helaena’s. The Velaryon boys follow behind.

Aemond stays, however, looking at you with a glint in his eyes. “A blessing?”

Your smile turns genuine. “I’m just happy that he’s giving your sister the praise she so rightfully deserves.”

He hums, moving closer to stand by your side. “A rare thing from him to be sure.”

That brings a frown to your face. Aegon didn’t spend much time with Helaena so by virtue, you didn’t spend much time with him. The rare times he did show up, he seemed wholly uninterested in spending time with her. He wouldn’t be openly rude to her face or overtly mean but he always seemed as if he wanted to be anywhere else than there with Helaena. In contrast, Aemond would ask her questions about her bugs, reading whatever book she wanted, genuinely enjoying his time spent with his sister.

You turn to Aemond. “If Prince Aegon is right,” you say quietly to him, not daring to look up. “Then I dare say you’ll have the fiercest and strongest dragon there is.”

“Don’t mock m-”

Your hand flies out and you grip his tightly. Swallowing down your nerves, you look up. His purple eyes are watching you carefully, vulnerable and soft. “They’re cruel and mean because they know the only thing they have over you is your lack of dragon. You’re smarter than all of them combined. I’ve seen you in the training yard - you put them all to shame. You actually care about doing your duties and protecting your family. You… You’re the trueborn son of King Viserys. There are none who would question that. You are a true Targaryen.”

With the way Aemond’s eyes darken, you can tell he understands what you’re implying. There were no whispers about his legitimacy.

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “You’ll claim a dragon. You’ll claim one and you’ll show them what ‘Fire and Blood’ really means.”

Dropping his hand, you turn to face the Dragonpit. Aemond doesn’t say a word, remaining close enough to your side that you can feel the heat radiating from him. Together, you quietly stare up at the crystal blue sky.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #like grrm i write children to be way more mature than they should be

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slayfics · 10 months

Text

Eijiro visits Yume on her birthday.

A very happy birthday to @unofficialmuilover!! I hope you enjoy the fic! Thank you for always indulging me and my delusions~

Artwork by the amazing @cloudymistedskies

Yume sighed as she scrolled through her phone. Another birthday message that was all too familiar.

Happy birthday! So sorry we can't celebrate right away due to the holidays! But can't wait to see you soon though!

Yume knew it wasn't anyone's fault her birthday was during the busiest month of the year, but- it never felt any better. Birthdays were supposed to be the one day out of the year for you to do whatever you wanted with who you wanted. However, that was never true for Yume.

Birthday gifts were often combined with Christmas gifts, and all the promises to celebrate later always faded after the New Year finally came in.

Whatever, it's nothing new i'm used to it... Yume told herself. But the truth was- it hurt the same. The same amount that it did every year. To top it off, she was spending her birthday online shopping for others. It was the only free time she had to pick out Christmas gifts.

Yume jumped slightly when her doorbell rang, and made her way over to he door expecting it to be her food delivery, but was shocked by the sight of a freezing Eijiro when she opened the door.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" He said, the biggest smile spreading on his face. Eijiro had one hand tucked warmly into his sweater pocket, and the other held out a wrapped gift for Yume to take. The scarf around his neck barely covered his frozen red cheeks.

"Kirishima?" Yume exclaimed shocked.

"I know- sorry I should have called. I'm sure you're very busy on your birthday- but I had to stop by! Here take it," Eijiro said shaking the gift slightly at Yume.

"Oh-," Yume's cheeks blushed as she reached out to grab the gift.

"Ok, well see ya later! I'll let you get back to your celebrating!" Eijiro said, showing his sharp teeth again in a smile before turning away.

"WAIT!" Yume called a little too loudly.

"Hu?" Eijiro turned around.

Yume stuttered trying to make up an excuse," You um- you look freezing! Come inside to warm up before you go." She said.

"Oh- no, I don't want to be any trouble. I know you're busy," He said.

"I'm not busy...," Yume said, the sadness finally showing in her eyes.

"Hu? But it's your birthday. I'm sure you've got plenty of people celebrating with you," He said. As sweet as Eijiro was, sometimes his naivety made things worse. Yume's eyes started to sparkle at Eijiro's words. She wished she was busy. She wished she had so many people coming over she didn't have time to spend with everyone.

"Oh man, did I say something wrong?" Eijiro asked, concerned lacing his voice as a tear dropped from Yume's eye. "Oh crap- what's wrong are you ok??" Eijiro said rushing over to her.

"I'm fine- it's just stupid," Yume said, rubbing her eyes.

"No no no, it's not stupid. I'm sure it's not, come on let's get inside like you said it's freezing out here," Eijro said, gently pulling Yume inside her apartment and closing the door. "Talk to me Yume, what could be bumming you out on your birthday?" He asked.

"Ugh," Yume exclaimed frustrated, she didn't want to cry about it. It wasn't anyone's fault- but it sucked. It sucked a lot- and talking about it was hard. "Everyone is always just too busy around this time of year to even celebrate with me..." Yume said softly, as Eijiro wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Oh... I see..." Eijiro said, looking down at the floor. "Wait what about Kansa?" He asked.

"She is out of town on a mission," Yume said.

"Oh...." Eijiro said as he began to rack his brain on how to make things better. "Well- I'm not busy today! Let's do all your favorite stuff! Um-don't tell me I remember... you like camping right! Yeah, let's go camping!" Eijiro said excitedly.

Yume laughed at his enthusiasm, "Kirishima, it's snowing!"

"Oh... well maybe we can get a cabin then? That's kind of like camping right?!" He suggested.

"A cabin? This last minute? I don't think that would work out... but... I ordered some food... would you- want to stay and eat with me?" Yume asked.

"Of course!" Kirishima said happily. "Maybe you can pick out one of your favorite movies too? That's the perfect activity for a cold snowy day! I can even make hot chocolate for us!"

Yume felt her heart flutter at his adorable shark smile and for the first time- in a long time- thought that maybe this would be a good birthday. One to try and remember instead of forgetting.

#kirishima x oc #eijiro x oc #bnha x oc #mha x oc

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reservoirreputation · 1 year

Text

Some thoughts on House S1

House was one of the first shows I really got into. Even from a young age, I had a soft spot for the comedic relief character that has a tragic backstory and doesn't want to let people get close for fear of being hurt again. Always a banger, rarely misses.

I was also waaaaaay too young to be watching, but watch it, I did. It was probably in its fourth season when I got into it? So, about 2009? Maybe 2008. So, I would've been around 10. That's some formative entertainment, right there.

I don't recall watching the show after it ended, so, this recent rewatch for the past week is the first time I've touched it since 2012. Really, I gave into temptation after seeing for the dozenth time tumblr's continued enthusiasm for it.

So, Season One.

I could recall the general plots of most of the episodes, sometimes could remember how some ended, sometimes just vaguely familiar. Considering how long it's been, it's still impressive how much has stuck with me.

God, I remember when I used to think Hugh Laurie was American. It's so funny growing up with Britcoms, not realizing that's him in stuff like Blackadder. I've always found Foreman's name funny because it's literally the same as Eric Foreman from That 70s Show.

I've always enjoyed the original team's dynamic: Foreman butting heads with House constantly, but only because they're so alike. Cameron wearing her heart on her sleeve, but also not afraid to try new things (the episode where she tries to persuade her coworkers by using their first names, and the way it works). Chase being so laid back, but he can get really opinionated at times, though, and adds nice conflict and contrast with the other two.

Cuddy and Wilson help balance out House's personality and antics so well. It's also interesting watching Wilson's more passive development, where we only get occasional updates. Like how he's at first happily, though strained, married, and then he's having casual lunch with one of the nurses, insisting that's all it is, and then spending time with House instead of his wife because his buddy needs the company and she's used to him being away. Then by the end of the season, his relationship is in the toilet.

With Cuddy, it's so hard to concentrate, because she's so damn pretty. The costuming department, wherever you are now, THANK YOU. Her attire is so on point, speaks volumes about her character, and is so aesthetically pleasing, and her office?? Is so gorgeous?? And is peak academia?? How are there not tumblr blogs solely dedicated to her outfits??

Truly, Cuddy's wardrobe for me is "God, I wish I had these clothes, these accessories!" But in reality, I dress like House. Well, I wear more plaid, but you get the picture.

A couple of highlights from this season; so, I only cried twice. Once during 1X10 and then 1X21. The former, with some of the best character development for Foreman, and how he goes from dismissing this poor woman to holding her hand as she dies of rabies, god DAMN was that a gut punch. Just, exquisitely done. And Three Stories, just as the audience puts it together that these are all very similar to what happened to House, BOOM, they reveal just exactly that: he's expressing his past trauma the only way he knows how, as a teaching moment. Just, I needed a moment after the episode ended, because it just makes you feel like shit. If you or someone you love has ever been misdiagnosed, or doctors have ignored your symptoms, or inadvertently made your condition worse, you know exactly how this feels. It's just so heartbreaking.

That bookending moment, with the season opening and closing with You Can't Always Get What You Want, is so good. The way it, again, socks you in the stomach by reframing the context of the song, showing how House and Stacy were it for each other, and still want one another, but they're bad together. House may be the One, but Stacy's husband is what she needs. Jesus fucking christ, this first season is so good.

Is it perfect? No. The writers are still getting to know these characters, and that's expected. But it's a really strong start, and is really great at looking at the many different facets of these characters very early on.

Fun little side note, despite having health related anxiety, this show doesn't freak me out. Maybe it's because it can be funny, maybe it's reassuring in how, no matter what's wrong with you, there's likely someone out there that can help. They may violate your privacy while they're at it, but they'll help you. It's oddly reassuring.

#house md #season one #rewatch thoughts #tv

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shibalen · 2 years

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♡︎ 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒖𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @fallaciousjustice

i match you with . . .

𝑱𝑰𝑹𝑶 𝑲𝒀𝑶𝑲𝑨 !!

omg the coolest pair on the block, where can I get you guys' charisma??

Right from the get-go Jiro would love your sense of fashion + the sunglasses and gloves. She thinks they match your vibe perfectly. Paired with your confidence and honesty, you're as perfect as a human being can get.

Jiro herself is quite bold too which fits well with your values. There is freedom in having someone you can be 100% honest with and not worry about them taking it personally.

Both of you appreciate that in each other, so you have a lot of common ground. Get in the car, it's ride or die with you guys all the way!

I can imagine all the sass and sarcastic jokes you share would be top quality *mwah* not to mention relentlessly teasing each other and everybody else around you. I fear for the poor soul Denki who becomes your next target.

Your natural talent in problem-solving and unique perspectives intrigue her! She asks for your opinions whenever she has trouble understanding something and you never fail to give an eye-opening answer.

As a streak of contrast, however, Jiro is a very chill person, even coming off as indifferent, so your enthusiasm and the way you present youself is endearing to her. You're quick to change the atmosphere which leaves her amazed and wishing she at times could take a page from your book.

Though she carries herself with self-assurance, Jiro is sometimes reluctant to show her sensitive side. So, you help her be more confident and letting that part of her shine more often ♡︎

On the other hand, she saves you from awkward social situations when the cues might not reach you. She honestly thinks it's hilarious but it's also one of the things she likes about you. It's refreshing not to go with the flow every now and then after all.

She is also very good at putting your mind at ease if it happens to be running overdrive. May give you a gentle zap to remind you that your ideas are fine and there's no need to second-guess yourself.

You also match energies when it comes to being creative. Although Jiro focuses on music, she thinks it's super cool you're into creative writing and art and would gladly indulge in them with you. They might even inspire her in songwriting?

That said, she loves playing music together: you with the ukulele and she with her acoustic guitar. It would be for your ears only, your private little pastime. And if you're interested, she can teach you another instrument (secretly actually anticipating when you would ask—)

The good old height difference™ You can make fun of her for her shortness, just know its your kneecaps on the line and that she's not afraid to get you back with an equally mean joke.

Overall your dynamic has such style and charm! Beneath the playful teasing and chill vibes a solid bond of loyalty and mutual understanding ties you and Jiro together ♡

♡ 𝑴𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮

You were out doing some clothes shopping a few days before the UA entrance exam. You were quite confident you would get in, now all you needed were some new clothes to be ready for a refreshing beginning.

Out in the open markets there were many things that caught your attention, but one particular accessory stuck out: a silver bracelet that would go perfectly with a shirt you bought earlier.

Just as you reached for it, however, another hand did the same. You looked up to find a pair of obsidian eyes starting right back at you. After a moment of suprise, a playful, competitive smile lazily stretched across her face.

"Sorry but I think I was about to get it first."

"Are you sure about that?"

You regarded each other steadily, both knowing what it was like to compete over limited merchandise. The one who offers the most wins.

Yet once again you got interrupted as a passing stranger snatched the bracelet from right underneath your eyes and broke into a sprint. How very bold of that guy.

Neither you nor the girl were willing to let the thief get off easy it seemed, both of you chasing after them before making a quick job of capturing them with your quirks.

When you returned the bracelet to the stall, she said you should have it because you were quicker to react than she was. The sellsman even let you have it for free despite that you were willing to pay for it!

You didn't introduce yourselves back then but on the next day when you met again at the UA entrance exam it was almost the first thing you did. The coincidence was just too funny.

After the exams and getting into the academy you hung out a lot with Jiro, and she really enjoyed your company, especially since sometimes the rest of the class could really be over-the-top (¯∇¯٥)

A good relationship starting with a strong friendship ♡︎

♡︎ 𝑩𝑳𝑼𝑹𝑩𝑺

So many fun and creative dates! It's never a boring moment with you. Jiro especially enjoys taking you to concerts (only if your sensory issues allow it) and music shops. But also just chilling together playing songs or writing is perfectly fine with her cause you're both introverted.

At first she didn't understand much about hockey but after you invited her out to play one winter evening she got surprisingly into it!

Now she joins you when you go to watch games and gets super hyped (though she is shy in showing it you can see her excitement clear as day heheh). Also cheers you on whenever you yourself are playing ♡︎

Coffee shops!! Either for studying or just chill dates. Often the Bakusquad joins you even if you didn't necessarily invite them along.

Jiro: "I'd like my coffee how I like my soul."

You: "Two extra sugars and whipped cream, please."

She has all your favourite coffee orders memorised and surprises you with them every now and then! Also takes note of whenever you have your eye on a certain art supply or piece of clothing so she could get you some of them as gifts (´,,•ω•,,)

Horror movie nights is a regular thing on weekends: you bring the best movie and Jiro supplies the snacks.

It's funny to observe how she subconsciously scoots closer to you when a more intense scene is playing. If anyone else would ask if she's spooked she'd say no but since it's you she'll admit it (but only a little!)

Yet haunted houses (real or organised) are completely fine?? When you get excited to go to one it's always so fun watching you get into the eerie mood. Probably has tried to sneak up on you to to see your reaction ๛ก(ｰ̀ωｰ́ก)

Jiro thinks your eyes are the prettiest things she has ever seen. Of course she never pesters you to take off your sunglasses but if you happen to, don't be surprised if she stares at you for a moment too long.

Probably not a lot of pda between you but cuddles in private are the comfiest! Just randomly lounging on top of each other or tucked in the arms of each other while doing your own thing or maybe brainstorming for plots and music~

𑁍 𝑱𝑬𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝑩𝑶𝑿

— favourite memory with you

The time when you wrote your first song together and played it. It started out as something not as serious, since you only jokingly asked her one day what kind background music would fit a certain scene you wrote for a story. After not finding anything online, Jiro started thinking about it harder and began writing down melodies. Then you pitched in your own ideas and eventually you had a whole theme for your story :0 It kinda became your themesong as well. The sentation of having created something together was just so incredibly thrilling and deepened your relationship even further. It was also the first time Jiro admitted to herself she had a crush on you. Your brilliant smile, your harmonious laughter when you thanked her—yep, she had it down bad . . .

— favourite place to kiss you

Classic cheek kisses because there she can actually reach you and it's just very wholesome anyway ♡ Also the back of your hand when you don't have gloves on since it is so rare and she's kinda smug about being one of the few people to be able to hold your hands like this.

— favourite nicknames to call you by

Ever since your first meeting she thinks the nickname Justice does fit you quite well. It's very playful and familiar so she often uses it as a greeting or a way to get your attention. She also likes silly ones like different marvel hero names considering how popular you are and how quick you are to jump into action. Maybe 'babe' on some special occasions :))

♫︎ 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪 𝑩𝑶𝑿

— Rhinestone Eyes by Gorillaz

— Mariposa by peach tree rascals (acoustic)

— Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

— Death Bed by Powfu ft. beabadoobee

— How Deep Is Your Love by Reneé Dominique (cover)

♡ runner up: Bakugo Katsuki

note: Hi! Here we are, thank you for being patient with me <33 I read from your profile that you're not active here much anymore but I hope you still log in one day and see this. Hopefully you are doing well and taking care of yourself!!

#len's matches #matchups #bnha matchups #mha matchups #fallaciousjustice

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feelingunfulfilled · 5 months

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I’m starting to get in my head again, because I got suddenly shaken by this feeling of just…missing out? Not feeling like I’m being included in something that I wish I could geek about? It’s absurd, and not even that big of a deal. Hypothetically I can join in and start posting my own silly art doodles I make up for fandoms and my original characters without worrying about the judgement of others but…..I still don’t feel like I’d have the confidence to do that, as much as I wish that could be the case

I love seeing this small community of people who are unashamed to post about their fictional crushes and share that enthusiasm with others, being able to freely make content about their self-inserts and the silly romantic interactions…and man I’m glad that I’m able to at least observe all that creativity and social bonding from the sidelines. But sometimes I look back at my own doodles (which are VERY sloppy in comparison to others and more like rough outlines of narrative story points) and start to feel like it wouldn’t be the same…wouldn’t be welcomed into that community with as much enthusiasm. And the thing is I don’t even know if that’s what I want? I’m aromantic and asexual. Fictional crushes are few and far between. I want to be a part of a group of artistic story-driven daydreamers who share the same admiration for a comfort character of mine and yet, I don’t think I’d be able to bring the same level of excitement to the table. And even if I did, I’m worried it would come across as weird acting so friendly to these online strangers and expecting to form some sort of friendship out of that

I guess that’s the main point of contention. That I’m growing worried that I’m unable to keep long lasting close relationships in person with all the changes going on. Maybe that’s the actual feeling that’s making me feel out of place. And I just really want to feel a part of something whilst posting whatever the hell I want to when it comes to sharing my art, interests, and what makes me exited. But something about how it’s presented makes me feel like I’d just be trying too hard? I don’t think I know how to post just for my own sake anymore, since I’m used to just rebloging things and keeping myself on the down low. I love supporting other artists. But I’m getting increasingly less vocal, and allowing them to form relationships with other users instead of getting involved to the point of making an actual friendship. Because I’m worried an online friendship wouldn’t last anyways? Even if that’s ridiculous because I’m active frequently

I have an issue with sharing information about myself. I used to make an effort to reach out to others, but that’s dwindled in recent years once again. Especially online I rarely ever initiate contact….which as you can imagine, leaves less room to socialize and make connections despite wanting to. Because when I see users interacting and sharing fandom posts with their friends and whatnot I start to feel even more out of place and distant…and I wish I had that or could be that sometimes. But hey…..guess until I make the effort to be more open, engaging, and post for my own sake that likely won’t happen

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deadbeatbirdmom · 1 year

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Justice League x RWBY Part 2

I love it. Although there's some moments involving team RWBY that really need to be in Volume 10.

Some highlights and a few of my thoughts under the cut because there's spoilers. And fair warning: there's 26 screenshots, I got a bit carried away and this got a little long.

We see Weiss struggling with the loss of Atlas, something that I hope will at least get touched on in Volume 10. It's good to see her talking to Klein, if just a video call rather than in person. There's also a glimpse of the anti-Schnee sentiment: an otherwise empty cafe where Weiss goes, apart from two faunus she helped save from Grimm. No one else wants to be around her. Poor Weiss. She deserves better. I guess at least she wasn't refused service.

Blake gets the door open to where they need to go to help the Justice League, who somehow manage to call Weiss on her scroll after running into trouble with Grimm inexplicably on Earth.

Blake ready to open the door. Her enthusiasm is so cute.

A slash from Gambol Shroud and a kick does the trick.

Finger gun and wink from Yang in appreciation, enough to get Blake to blush, despite the fact that this is after they kissed in the Ever After.

After they go through the portal and somehow automatically undergo some changes that seem to make them fit into DC's Justice League, Yang has no difficulty recognising Blake without her ears, and in fact notices they are missing before Blake does.

Poor Blake's reaction is funny, and I feel bad about that. But it is played for laughs, and she does get them back as soon as they leave, and in a computer simulation thing in the end boss fight. The same goes for Yang and her cowlick.

It's great to see Yang talk to someone a bit about what she went through after losing her arm. Even if she only did it to try to help Flash accept that he can't force himself to get over a traumatic experience because there's some things you just don't get over. Like her arm. Now if only she could talk to someone on her team about it...

And there's moments between Ruby and Yang that really really need to be in the main series:

There's when Yang's concerned that Ruby is being reckless, Ruby thinks she's doubting her, but Yang insists that she never has, she's just concerned that it isn't Ruby's confidence at work but a death wish. That Yang needs her sister. And Ruby throwing herself at Yang to hug her, and tell Yang that she's not going anywhere.

"You promise?"

And while Yang is airing her concerns, Blake puts a hand on her shoulder which Yang takes as a wordless communication to make her tone less confrontational. And it also seems like Blake giving her girlfriend some support while she's upset.

Yes, Blake looks weird without cat ears. No, she doesn't like it either.

It's good to see Yang letting Burn loose once she can (team RWBY don't have their Semblances on Earth, but other powers, apart from inside another simulation where they have their normal abilities again).

Ever since the fight against Ace Ops at the end of Volume 7 I've been wondering if Yang's burning orange eyes of fire are an evolution of her Semblance. She definitely still flashes her red eyes sometimes, like when punching Salem in the tits.

Yang briefly fighting a possessed Wonder Woman is a pretty cool moment, especially when using her Semblance to punch her through two trees (Yang did take some hits so... Burn must've been pretty charged up).

Ruby takes some punishment from possessed!Wonder Woman too. Yang catches her. Ruby tells Yang that she can't protect her from everything, that she has to trust Ruby, that she's not going to leave Yang, that she's not (their) Mom, and not Raven. My feels!

"Ruby!"

While Ruby is talking to Yang, some of it is done with a sort of mirror image of when Ruby drank the tea in Volume 9: Yang reflected in Ruby's eye.

Yang later getting possessed herself and Blake being the first to notice! Blake pointing her gun at the possessed Yang and saying Kilgore (the possessor) could never fool her using Yang!

A disturbing sight for Blake, Yang's eyes all wrong.

Weiss using a Summoned giant Arma Gigas arm to grab Yang and say "You can't have her!" Just too bad 'Yang' uses Burn to break free.

Ruby getting possessed Yang off a rooftop!

And a team effort with part of Justice League to free Yang.

Black Canary catching Yang after the Flash freed her (there was a cute moment when Black Canary and Yang met, Canary expressing appreciation of another blonde). Rather blurry because they were in the distance. This is pretty much from Blake's POV, as she had been using Gambol Shroud's ribbon to restrain Yang's left arm from a distance.

It's good to see a brief glimpse of Blake and Weiss helping Yang stay on her feet after she's freed from possession.

Team RWBY confront Watts in the final simulation, on Atlas, quite possible outside the Schnee mansion just to hurt Weiss more.

Unimpressed Yang is unimpressed that Watts expresses contempt of imbeciles (which everyone but him is) but worked with Kilgore, an actual idiot as Yang puts it. And she'd be in a position to know after having had him in her head.

It's satisfying having them provoke Watts into explaining that he worked with Kilgore because he was an idiot, and intended for Kilgore to get trapped. Kilgore overhears and possesses Watts, allowing Cyborg to trap them in the simulation indefinitely while everyone else leaves.

And we get a second Bumbleby kiss! I'm a little disappointed it was just a brief still image rather than actually animated, but it's another kiss!

But yeah. This has such good sister interactions between Yang and Ruby, and they really need to be in the main series too.

And yes, it was a bit of a pain in the neck getting these screenshots. Some of them are blink and you'll miss them moments.

#Justice League x RWBY spoilers #RWBY spoilers #deadbeatbirdmom posts #Team RWBY #Yang Xiao Long #RWBY Ruby #Blake Belladonna #Weiss Schnee #the sisters Xiao Long-Rose #Bumbleby

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nessinborderland · 2 years

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Live Undead (03)

Pairing: Yoon Gwinam x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Dark fic

Word Count: 5,7k

Summary: You knew he was bad, and you knew it was bad to tell him no. Still, you did. And you will come to regret it.

Warnings⚠️ Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Rape/Non-con Elements, Zombie Apocalypse, Mild Gore, Bullying, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, monster fucking?, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Sexual Harassment, Oral Sex, Blood, Toxic Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Light breeding kink, Forced Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Trauma, Grief/Mourning

Notes: Here it is, part 3! Sorry for any mistakes, I might come back to edit this further during the weekend. Comments and reblogs are, as always, extremely welcome and appreciated <33 much love, till next time! Enjoy <3

Heaven.

Purgatory.

Hell.

Sometimes you wondered where you were exactly; this couldn’t be the real world, could it? If you were in Heaven, then religion was nothing but a cruel joke, with everything about it being an awful lie. If this was Purgatory, then you were afraid to find out what Hell actually looked like. If this was Hell then… yes, you wouldn’t be surprised if Hell looked like this – you would just like to know what you had done to deserve such a fate.

Sometimes you even wondered if they were all the same; just a mess of spiritual realities where nothing was real but everything felt too real. Either way, it didn’t matter, not anymore.

Not since the dead refused to stay dead and the boy you grew up with and had once considered a friend was now the monster of your nightmares, both asleep and awake. He was there when you opened your eyes – always close, always demanding, always watching – and he was there when you closed them, now in the form of the rotting monster you knew he was on the inside as much as he was on the outside.

Frankenstein Monster, you had called him once under your breath. Because, in a way, that’s what he reminded you of. Because he was a man that wasn’t a man, dead but not really, and never for long. He looked like the Gwinam you used to know as much as he resembled the flesh-eating zombies that hunted you outside. And even then he was something else, something new, something you had no words to describe. So you called him your Frankenstein monster.

He was yours in a way, after all. As much as you were his, you supposed. His words, not yours.

These months with him had allowed you to learn three important things about Yoon Gwinam:

One, was that he could not die (you had tried to kill him only to regret it in the same breath);

Two, was that the boy you once knew died when the monster was born, and he was never coming back;

Three, and the most surprising at first, was that Gwinam craved love as much as he craved the flesh of the living.

The last one had been the hardest for you to realize, even when it seemed so obvious now as you looked into his good eye, his forehead pressed against yours as he moved in and out of you in slow, lazy thrusts. Of course the violent boy from a broken home wished for love and reassurance and compliments. It was present in every action he had when it came to you, even though he had no idea of that himself.

The way he was so eager to please you, always wanting to get a moan out of you, almost expecting you to kiss him and fuck him back with as much enthusiasm. The way he waited for your smile every time he brought you a new book or a snack, hesitantly smiling when you thanked him while looking oh so proud of himself, like a dog that had done a good job at getting its owner’s newspaper.

All of that would have been endearing and welcome if he hadn’t ruined your life.

Your brain and body seemed to forget it at times; you could get so wet and moan so loud when he was in you, get so anxious when he was away, hug him so tightly in your sleep. But your heart and memories hadn’t forgotten what he had done, how he had made you feel, how he still terrorized you and kept you as his prisoner every single day. He wasn’t your friend and he definitely wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your jailer, nothing else.

You would do well in remembering that.

I do. I won’t forget.

But you still felt something for him, not everything bad. You couldn’t stop yourself from caring, from wanting to please him back, from desiring him. He was slowly making his way into your heart and you were hesitantly but surely letting him in, even if the rational side of you knew that while your feelings felt real, they weren’t. They were nothing more than an illusion.

But sometimes living in fantasy was better than not living at all.

You moaned his name when you felt a rush of warmth inside you, his face buried in your neck while he came, strong hands firm but gentle on your skin as he kept your thighs open for him. Your body shook together with his from your most recent orgasm, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you shut them tight, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you.

He didn’t like it when you cried.

“You okay?”

His whisper in your ear made you shudder, and you nodded as you started petting his shaggy hair, fingers combing through the dark locks while he kissed your neck. He was still inside you but unmoving, and part of you hated how accustomed and comfortable you had grown to that position. It felt so nice to have his lukewarm body against you, his scent mixing with yours and the smell of sex. You were used to it now. You welcomed it, even.

“Still feeling sick?” he asked again, this time looking into your eyes. You could see the concern in his gaze, together with a care that would have given you butterflies in your stomach if that was actually possible at this point in your life.

“I’m better now,” you smiled, brushing his fringe off his face and uncovering his bad eye. The sight of it didn’t bother you anymore. “Just really tired.”

“Yeah, that’s my fault,” he chuckled, leaning over to kiss you on the lips with an intensity that would’ve made you squirm away only a few weeks ago. But now you accepted it, kissing him back like it was your only choice; which it was, in a way.

You felt guilty, and that was the truth. Guilty for hurting him and guilty for apologizing; none of which he deserved. Guilty for wanting him close and willingly giving yourself to him and enjoying it; all things he didn’t deserve either, after what he had done to you.

Neither of you had talked about that day, almost a month ago. If you could erase it from memory, you would have, shame sitting in your gut like a rotten meal as you remembered how you had acted, the consequences of those actions, and the aftermath – none of which you wanted to think too much about. You didn’t know exactly why he hadn’t touched the subject, but you were glad he hadn’t. That way you could pretend it never happened.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked late in the night, long after you had showered and cuddled off to sleep on the old mattress in the shabby studio apartment you shared since all hell broke loose.

The growl of zombies was almost loud in the dead night, but having Gwinam beside you always made you feel safe. You knew that no harm would come to you if he was close; unless it was by his hand, of course. You could still smell the candles that usually illuminated the room at night, now all blown off except for one single candle that made the apartment dance in small shadows. It was dangerous to keep it on while you slept, but the fire brought you a special comfort on the particularly cold nights that Gwinam couldn’t match even if he tried.

You knew he wasn’t asleep; he rarely did so for long and never too deeply. But this time, his fingertips drawing spirals on your back was what gave it away. Being only the two of you for months made you see and notice things about him you had never noticed before, and you knew for a fact that something was troubling him. If he wanted to share it or not, that was a different question altogether, but curiosity got the better of you.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, feather-like touch never stopping its path on your skin, “why do you ask?”

You sighed as you repositioned your head on his chest, gaining you time to choose your words wisely. You didn’t think you could ever stop fearing his reactions, especially when his unnatural heartbeat reminded you of what he was.

“You’ve been… upset lately. Nervous.” You bit your lip as you said the next words, “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” he huffed, sounding surprised. “No, it’s not you, I just…” you moved to stare at him in the dark, watching as his shadow shook his head and let out a sigh “… everything’s fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why would I lie to you?” You were glad he couldn’t see the look of distrust in your eyes. “You’re fine, we’re fine. There’s just some shit I gotta deal with, but I’ll fix it, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Something in his tone didn’t let you drop the subject. You wanted to hear what he wasn’t saying. Foolish hopefulness, you knew, but what else was keeping you alive at this point. “Is it the others again?”

You knew of others like Gwinam; humans that weren’t really human. That, like him, existed in a constant limbo between life and death. They weren’t much different from the zombies that roamed the streets, as far as you were concerned.

Now humans? The military even, maybe? That could mean good news to you. They could mean freedom. That or a new kind of hell, but you didn’t want to consider the possibility.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll take care of it, yeah?” you felt his hand gently but firmly push your head to lay back on his chest, a clear sign that the conversation was over. “Hey, remember when we first met? Under the slide?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden change of subject, and you bit your lip before deciding to let go of whatever was stressing him; pressing him on would only make him angry.

“Yeah,” you nodded, remembering that morning, “you cursed me off and threatened to beat me if I told anyone I saw you crying. Then we walked to school together and you bought us dalgona.”

The memories from that day were still clear in your mind. You hadn’t met him before that rainy morning, but you had seen him at the park, usually well after dark and by himself, tall for a kid but a kid nonetheless. You wondered sometimes if you hadn’t shown him kindness that day if things would’ve been different; maybe if you were never friends to begin with, he would’ve never noticed you. But helping the abused neighborhood kid in his time of need was never something you regretted, so you weren’t going to start now.

“Why do you ask, though?” you wondered when he said nothing else.

“I went by our old apartments today. I haven’t been there since the beginning and it’s all ruins now but…” he shrugged and let out a deep sigh, “I guess I just wanted to give it one last look. The slide is still mostly intact.”

You bit your lip as you controlled the will to ask about your home; was there anything left? A book, a piece of furniture, some old rag? Anything that reminded you of home? Any sign of your mom? You had been mourning her since the beginning of this nightmare – sure that she was dead – but you really wished you could be sure. Not thinking about her wasn’t as hard anymore, but you still caught yourself crying for her, wishing she was there to hold you, alive to save you.

A sob left your lips and you hurried to cover your mouth before another forced its way out, instinctively pushing yourself away from Gwinam as you felt his arms tense around you.

He didn’t like it when you cried.

“What the hell…” came his frustrated comment as he moved to sit up, pulling you with him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” you were interrupted by another sob, hiding your face in your hands as Gwinam tried to force you to lock eyes with him. You didn’t want to look at him right now. You didn’t want him to touch you. “P-Please stop, I’m- I’m fine!”

“Then why the fuck are you crying?”

You had hurt him, you noticed by his tone. You haven’t meant to bat his hands away or talk to him like that, but you didn’t want him close right now. You looked at him, one side of his face barely visible in the low light, the glint of his good eye focused on you, brows furrowed. He was mad.

Apologize.

“I’m s-sorry,” you said followed by a low sob. “I just… I miss my mom so much.”

“I know you do,” comforted Gwinam with a squeeze on your shoulder. Then, “But I’m here for you, aren’t I? Just like you were there for me then. We only need each other. No one else.”

His words made your heart race and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from fury; how could he say something like that when seeing you cry about your mother? You wanted to scream at him, curse him back to the hell he came from. But all you did was unclench your jaw before you said something you would regret.

“Of course,” you said instead of the thoughts going through your mind. “I still miss her, that’s all.”

Gwinam said nothing to that, pulling you to lay back down with him, a large palm petting your hair back until all your anger and sadness simmered down and all that remained was the tiredness of yet another stressful day. Your eyes were heavy with sleep, but you still understood him when he spoke next, words so softly spoken you wondered if you were even supposed to hear them.

“You were my first real friend, you know that?”

You hummed; you knew it to be true, even if sometimes it was hard to believe.

“Do you think things would’ve been different if I hadn’t fucked it up?”

“I don’t know…” This time you found the words to answer, even if you were barely conscious. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Still I… I want you to know that I regret it.”

Which part? You wanted to ask. Regretting being a shitty friend to you? For raping you? Hurting you? Traumatizing you? Kidnapping you? You could go on the list of bad things he had done. If he had considered you such a friend, why had he ruined your friendship? Why had he bullied you relentlessly for years? Why was he doing this to you now? You didn’t understand any of it and it was beyond frustrating.

So you said nothing to that, choosing instead to keep quiet. You were glad when he said nothing else either, and soon you were falling into a restless sleep.

You opened your eyes with a grunt, covering them when the sunlight inundating your room was too much in your still drowsy state. The empty spot beside you on the bed was empty, sheets ruffled around your body and his pillow pressed against your back. You knew then that he wasn’t in the apartment. If he was, he would’ve been in bed next to you, waiting for you to wake up.

A squinted look around confirmed your suspicions, and you sighed as you stood up and made your way to the bathroom, a look at the clock on the wall telling you it was a little past nine in the morning.

You tried not to get too restless during his absence — choosing to focus on cleaning, cooking, or reading a book instead — but it was hard when you felt so unsafe by yourself. What if zombies broke in? What if he didn’t come back? What if he did? Still, you knew it wouldn’t last; he always came back soon after you woke up like he sensed you were waiting for him. It was both a comfort and a source of anxiety, especially because you never knew exactly what you were supposed to want.

Escaping was always in the back of your mind, like a scratching thought that made you look at the locked front door more times than you cared to count. You told yourself it was because you were waiting for Gwinam’s arrival, but you knew the truth; you were just gathering enough courage to touch that doorknob again, pry it open somehow, and make a run for it.

But fear stopped you from acting, the memories of that day just weeks ago still fresh in your mind; you had been so close to dying.

Coward, the survival in you accused, better dead than this.

Was it, though? This wasn’t always bad. He wasn’t always bad. Gwinam was temperamental, violent, obsessive, and sometimes bordered on paranoid with you often taking the burden of his volatile behavior. But he also knew how to be caring and gentle, with small demonstrations of love that left you so confused and surprised you often had no reaction. You knew that his few qualities didn’t make him a good person, but it was so hard not to ignore the bad for the good sometimes…

Even if you escaped, where were you supposed to go by yourself? You had no skills, no friends, no idea where safety was… you were better locked in this small apartment where your basic needs were guaranteed than risk the unknown.

You left the bathroom after going through your morning routine, glancing again at the clock to notice with frustration that a little over fifteen minutes had passed. You walked towards the window, looking outside at the cloudy sky, a chill running down your spine as you braced yourself in your warmest sweater; snow would be falling sooner or later.

“Where is he?…” you whispered to yourself, letting out a sigh before going towards the kitchenette to grab something to eat.

Not that you were very hungry in your nervous state, but you had to keep yourself busy somehow, and peppermint tea usually calmed your upset stomach. You also weren’t surprised when an annoying but familiar migraine started at the sides of your skull, making you wish more than ever that you could just go back to bed and relax until the discomfort passed. But you knew you couldn’t; not while he was gone.

So you made your tea in the small camping stove that Gwinam had gotten for you, using the extra hot water for a water bag that you hugged against yourself as you sipped on your tea and munched on some cookies while you waited for the front door to open.

You felt like a dog with separation anxiety, and the thought would’ve made you laugh if it wasn’t so damn accurate. It made you hate yourself just a little more than you already did.

A sudden noise from downstairs made you jump in place, and you rushed to stand up — panic making your heart race — at the same time, Gwinam came through the door, wild stare searching the room before finding you.

“Gwinam—” you barely got to say his name before he practically ran in your direction, hugged you, and dragged you into the bathroom before closing the door, a hand covering your mouth before you had the time to ask what was going on.

You didn’t have to ask, as the far-away sound of a helicopter made you freeze and listen, wide eyes looking into Gwinam as his trembling hand pressed ever harder against your face, his firm hold keeping you locked in place as he also listened, furrowed brows and tense shoulders showing you how scared he was.

“Don’t you make a sound,” he whispered, a warning clear in his tone, “I can hear them. They’re close by…”

Your hands grabbed his in a silent plea for him to uncover your mouth, but he didn’t budge — like he hadn’t even noticed your gesture — so you gave up and tried your best to breathe calmly through your nose.

What could be happening to make Gwinam this nervous? The only possibility that made sense — also giving the helicopter — was that the military was close. You knew how much he feared them; how could he not when they were the only ones capable of killing him for good?

It felt like hours before Gwinam finally dropped his palm from your mouth, arms still around you in a protective hold. You kept quiet when he said nothing, the look in his good eye giving you the impression that he wasn’t there with you, probably still focusing on whatever sound you weren’t capable of listening to.

“What is going on?” you hesitated before whispering in the lowest tone you could manage.

“Military,” he replied, still not looking at you, “they’re cleaning up the streets. I think they saw me.”

“Did they follow you?”

“I- I’m not sure,” he looked at you then, a new kind of apprehension in his eyes, “but I think we need to leave.”

You followed him as he exited the bathroom and carefully took a look outside before grabbing a near backpack and throwing it at you. You grabbed it without actually thinking about it, staring at him with mouth agape as he started to frantically fill the bag with your stuff.

“Leave? What do you mean ‘leave’?” This was the only safe place you knew. “Where will we go?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll find us a place. Maybe the mountains…”

“The mountains?! Gwinam, is getting colder, how will we—”

“Listen, it doesn’t matter, okay? I’ll find a way.”

“But maybe they can help? We don’t have to run away…”

“What do you mean ‘help’?” His change of tone made you flinch and take a step back. “Do you have any idea of what they will do to us? Do to me?”

You knew. You had dreamed about it, the moment when the military would show up and save you from him, make him pay for what he had done to you. You knew. Part of you wanted it to happen.

“I- I just thought that maybe,” you licked your lips as you felt panic grow in your chest, “maybe we could—”

“Maybe you could what, uh?” his snarl made you jump away from him, “have them take you away from me? Kill me? Is that what you want?”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“That’s not gonna happen, you hear me?” You could feel how angry he was, all that anger focused on you. “Have you forgotten that I can’t die?”

You let out a startled yelp as he gripped your wrist with enough strength to make you double over in pain. You released the bag as you scratched him in an attempt to have him release you, but with no success as he threw you on the bed, body going over yours.

“Do you wanna leave?” he was so close the tip of his nose brushed yours, his hands keeping you down by your wrists. “Is that what you want? Go back to your miserable human life, all by yourself, with zombies on your tail? Your mom is dead, your friends are dead, you only have me, don’t you get that? Why don’t you get that?”

You were hyperventilating now, already regretting your words. Things were going so well, why did you have to screw everything up over false hope? You had it coming, whatever it was he had planned to do with you in his anger.

“I’m sorry, please, I didn’t mean it like that!” you were full-on sobbing now, shaking your head as you begged him to understand. “I- I don’t want any of that, you got to believe me.”

His hands released you, and you immediately cradled his face in your palms even though he was already moving away, his face frozen in a scowl as you desperately pressed your lips against his in small pleading kisses he didn’t acknowledge. “P- Please believe me,” you kept saying in between sobs, pulling him closer. “I don’t want them to kill you or hurt you, I just want to leave this place, please-”

“Leave this place or leave me?”

You didn’t have an audible answer to that; not when you thought loud and clear: You, I want to leave you, please let me go!

“I see.”

He was out the door before you had time to process it, leaving like a spirit in the cold morning, silently and like he hadn’t been there in the first place. You just stood there, kneeling on the mattress with tears streaming down your face as you stared at the door he had locked behind him. You were now alone once again. You hated being alone, but he rarely left you like this, never so soon after danger. You knew that you could count on him to hold you in his arms and keep you safe.

But not anymore, not now, and there was no one to blame but yourself.

You waited for hours. You waited until you were dry heaving from crying so much, until your legs were cramping from pacing around the apartment like a caged animal, until your head felt like it was going to explode from how much it was throbbing in pain. You wanted to go after him, but that would’ve been suicide one way or another; it didn’t matter who caught you as soon as you were outside, you knew you would be as good as dead.

Part of you wanted Gwinam to never show his face again; dying alone and miserable was better than being with him. Was better than pretending to love him, than wanting to kill him but being unable to. But the survivor in you disagreed; she wanted to live, even if that meant living with him. Living because of him, for him.

You forced yourself to crawl from your lying spot on the bathroom floor back to your bed, sweat covering your body in a light sheen as you braced the walls and tried not to throw up once again; your stomach was long empty anyway, so you doubted you could. You also doubted you could cry more than you already did on a daily basis, but today had proved you wrong.

Gwinam didn’t bother announcing himself as he banged the door close behind him just as the sun was setting over the destroyed city of Hyosan.

His hands were on your face in what would’ve been a soft caress if it weren’t for the wet and sticky feeling you recognized as blood. The smell of iron filled your nostrils, making your body tense up with intense fear. It was too dark to see him clearly, but you didn’t need to see him to know that he had done something bad.

“Gwinam,” you whispered in a croaked voice, afraid to break whatever trance he was in, “what happened?”

He didn’t answer, and you didn’t dare repeat the question, gasping when his arms suddenly went around your body and pulled you into a hug, almost making you gag as the sickening scent of death got stronger.

“Do you love me?” He asked against your breast bone, his voice barely audible.

The sudden question surprised you, and you were at a loss for words, struggling to find an answer that wasn’t an outward lie. But your head and heart hurt too much for lies right now.

“I… I would like to,” was your answer. It was the truth. Loving him would’ve been easier, but you couldn’t. Not really.

“But you don’t.” It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t.”

“Because of what I am…”

“No… because of who you are,” you corrected.

He huffed, an offended sound that he tried to disguise with humorless laughter.

“Am I really that bad?” You shrugged, and there was a long pause before he proceeded. “What if… what if I promised to change?”

“You can’t- you can’t change what you did, Gwinam,” you said, a lump forming in your throat. How could he believe that changing himself would change the past? He didn’t even deserve another chance after everything he had done.

“But if I could—”

“It’s too late—”

“Just give me a chance—”

“You can’t!” You snapped, pushing him away. “You raped me countless times, you kidnapped me, you threatened to kill me or leave me to die more times than I can count! You can’t change the past more than I can, Gwinam, you’re not a god! And I’m sorry, I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to stop you from becoming this- this thing, but it’s not my fault I can’t like you back. It’s yours! You only got yourself to blame.”

You didn’t dare to breathe after what you had said, staring with mouth agape at Gwinam’s standing form, wondering if this had been the last straw. This was the last time he let you live after talking to him like that. Fuck it, you thought to yourself.

But the words he uttered, almost in a whisper, were far from everything you ever expected him to say or do.

“I’m sorry.”

He was sorry. But sorry wouldn’t erase your pain. Sorry was nothing but a meaningless word at this point.

“Sorry won’t change anything either.”

“So what will?”

“Letting me go.”

“No, you know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He shrugged, shaking his head. “I can’t let you leave me like this.”

“What did you do, Gwinam?” you asked again, voice apparently calm despite the trembles that shook your body like you had no control over your body.

“I killed them,” he said, a slight tremor to his voice, “if they found you, they- they would’ve—”

“Take me away from you?”

“They would’ve hurt you,” he brushed his hair out of his face, sticking it back with blood, “they would’ve locked us both in a fucking lab. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“You can just let me go, you don’t have to come,” you tried to reason with him. “You don’t have to get hurt.”

“You don’t understand. Even if you go alone…”

Something in his voice made you freeze, and a wave of anxious nausea washed over you, like you knew he was about to deliver bad news. News that wasn’t exactly news, not when you knew what he meant.

“What do you mean?”

“I can hear it, Y/N… the heartbeat.”

He didn’t clarify; he didn’t have to. You knew. Not for a fact, but it was a thought that had constantly been in the back of your mind for the last few weeks. It was inevitable, just nature taking its course in circumstances out of your control. Of course this was bound to happen, but it was always a problem that you pushed towards future you. But now you were future you and that problem was now.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice barely audible above the humming in your ears.

“Yes, but I can get you a- Y/N?”

You turned your back to him as you walked towards the terrace, desperately in need of fresh air. When you thought that things couldn’t get more fucked up, life came and proved you wrong. What were you supposed to do now? Leaving by yourself meant death, leaving with Gwinam meant another kind of prison, and staying… staying was like you weren’t even trying anymore. And you had to try. You didn’t want this, this life that he had forced upon you. And you definitely didn’t want whatever was growing inside you, even if it was part of you.

“Hey, don’t you turn your back on me, let’s talk about this—”

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed when you felt his cold grip on your wrist, forcefully pulling you to him. You pushed him away as strongly as you could, pushing yourself against the half wall that separated you from a possible deadly fall. “Stay away from me!”

“Watch it,” he warned through gritted teeth. “Let’s talk about this, no need for you to act like this.”

“Don’t tell me how I should feel!” you screamed back, pointing a finger at his chest. You couldn’t breathe, your heart feeling like it was going to explode out of your chest. You raised a hand over your face, sobbing as you doubled over like you were in pain. “This is all your fault!”

“Yeah, it is, and I’m here fucking admitting it,” he spoke back in a rushed tone, “This shitshow is all my fault, there, happy now?”

“You… I- I can’t-” you struggled to say as you felt your lungs closing in on themselves. You knew in the back of your mind that you were having a panic attack, but you couldn’t for the life of you calm down and be logical about it. Nothing about your situation was logical or bearable. Every part of it was a nightmare and you wanted to wake up. “I can’t breathe.”

You barely reacted when Gwinam carried you inside, laying you down on the bed before cradling your face in his hands, forcing you to lock eyes with him.

“I know I’ve done a lot of wrong shit, but I’m not letting you leave me,” he said in a stern tone, “and that’s just something you’ll have to suck up whether you want it or not, understood?” You couldn’t say anything in response, your gasping breaths and sobs being the only thing you could possibly do in your pain. “Now I need you to calm the fuck down and listen to me. No, look at me… you’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of that, you understand? I’ll take care of everything, all you gotta do is be a good girl and do as I say. Okay?” You nodded and he dried your tears. “Good, now breathe for me. Slowly, that’s it… in and out… in and-”

You heard it at the same time he did. It was impossible not to as the blast of gunshots exploded your window into tiny pieces, the burning pain of glass and something else penetrating your skin making you scream before you were engulfed by dreamless unconsciousness.

---

Part 4->

#all of us are dead #yoon gwinam #yoon gwinam x reader #yoon gwi nam #all of us are dead fanfiction #aouad fanfic #gwi nam x reader #gwinam x reader

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brandnewhuman · 2 years

Note

YOOO IT YA BOI, FAVORITE CHILD HERE!!!!!!

I hear requests were open so it's crazy ape shit time 👺👺👺

Lemme getta man boobies obsessed s/o who loves s q u e e z I n dem milkers. I mean toe curling, back arching, obsessed with their honker honkers. For my bf triangle boi ofc. 😫😩

Also have a good day, drink sum hydration, eat dat raccoon trash, and sleep sometimes (last one is optional 🙃🙃)

Grabbing the bouncy

forbidden fruit

Headcanons - drabble

☆STARRING☆

Pyramid head ☆ aka the big dorito head of punishment

CONTENT

Tw: canon violence, pitiful attempts at NSFW, mature language, the big cunt being himself.

A/n: everytime I try to do something NSFW i always end up writing some hideous embarrassing atrocities but oh well, someone's trash is always someone else treasure. I did like a poll thing to know what people wanted to read first AND WHEN I TELL YOU ALMOST EVERYONE SAID PYRA TITS. YOU ALL HAVE NO FUCKING CHILL WITH ALL THAT BEING HORNY. everyone say thanks to my bruv here for requesting this gem

Ah yes, everyone's wet dream, the forbidden dorito head tits

Let's ignore the fact that if this giant bitch gets near us he would rip our sinful arses with his bare hands

THE HORNYNESS WOULD NEVER GO UNPUNISHED.

BUT for the sake of being silly whores let's pretend the big man can at least tolerate you and plays dumb at your questionable and foul behaviour

Your attack at the geometry milkers took him by surprise the first time tho

It happens after he has finished his executioner duties

Ever since you have ended up in silent Hill and he has grown fond of you he likes to spend his free time observing and listening to anything you want to tell him about

He finds it so entertaining, to watch you explain things he would never understand with such passion. He kind of wishes to have the same enthusiasm for life as you do

Basically your like a cute dumb dog and he enjoys to watch your two working braincells struggle to function properly

I think the only way you could actually grab those big ol tits is taking the chance when he's really tired

My man walks around for hours dragging a sword as big as you, slashing shit and plus he has to exist with his own big ass heavy head

He's built different but not that different

PLUS, BRO ARE WE REALLY NOT ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT THIS WHORE WITH SUPERIORITY COMPLEX IT'S LIKE 7 FUCKING FEET TALL?

I just know his shoulders and back are killing him

His relentlessness helps him to power through pain, tiredness ecc but when he actually stops and has to spend a moment being still and having time to actually think about how he feels he kind of crumbles under the weight of his exhausting life

IT IS LIKE THAT, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES. WELL, I DO BUT YEAH

The whole reason why he wanted to keep you was because you radiated some sort of calm. He literally finds himself attracted to your soft energy and when he's feeling too tired to even stand up he just looks out for you for some..YEAH WELL FOR SOME CUDDLES AND LOVE BRO. HE IS NOT JUST A GIGANTIC VIOLENT CUNT WITH A WEIRD HEAD, HE CAN BE SOFT TOO WHEN HE TRIES REALLY HARD

He's like always stressed because of what he has to do, having you around with your soothing way of being it's literally heaven for him

So when you see your big boi coming back after a long day of working, with his broad shoulders slumping slightly forward you already know what he wants

Silent Hill doesn't have many comforts so he gave you the best thing he could find for you to live in.

Which is why you have like two really old bed mattresses on the floor, something that resembles a pillow and a blanket.

HE WAS SO PROUD OF IT WHEN HE SHOWED YOU THE FIRST TIME. BE MORE GRATEFUL

"You're tired, aren't you big guy?" He just nods and plants his sword on the ground before scooping you up and heading towards the bed

He doesn't even asks anymore, when is cuddle time is cuddle time and you have to just accept it

To be fair he was already involuntarily planting your face on his stinky chest

As he dozed off you tried to slowly give his aching muscles a massage

Everything in his body is like rock hard AND DON'T YOU EVEN TRY IT, BEHAVE YOURSELVES WITH THE FUCKING BONER JOKES

Now, as he just relaxes under your gentle touch, your hands start to wander into the small piece of heaven that is his chest

Bro was so happy and calm he didn't suspect what your foul mine was thinking about

He has the most soft but at the same time solid daddy milkers in the whole universe. It's like grabbing a really good stress ball

You can feel some scars underneath your hands but overall his skin is surprisingly smooth and warm

Those BADOONKAS are so fucking big bro, you have to use both hand to properly squeeze

At first it was just a like tentative squeeze out of curiosity and he let it slide because he thought you were just trying to help him release tension and since your hands are the size of a polly pocket then you had to get really into it

Now that second squeeze tho, that was personal

he went through not all 5 but maybe three of the stages of grief

he pulled you back holding your shoulders, giving you a inquiring stare just to find you staring right back at him

AREN'T YOU EVEN ASHAMED?

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry, they're really nice"

Now he is flabbergasted

From that moment it was like you have discovered your new reason to live

And he had to suffer the consequences of having all those bouncy hoonkas

Everytime, EVERY FUCKIN TIME, you always grab em tits

While he finds it flattering that you find his body so nice, it creates some sort of internal conflict

Cause, mh well how to explain… listen I'm gonna say it, PYRA HAS A SIZE KINK. NO, I WON'T EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER

JUST KNOW THAT HE REALLY ENJOYS YOU BEING SO MUCH SMALLER THAN HIM AND JUST SO OPENLY LIKING HIS BODY

It just boost his ego to know you find him so attractive, just the sensation of your soft hands worshipping his whole body softly but with all that care and passion

Yeah yeah, you give the stinky dorito snapped head the hots. Congrafuckinglations

I just want you all to know that I have very little knowledge of pyramid head so I'm doing shit with what vibes he's giving me and the vibes are big horny but will horny shame others

Everytime he wants to play with you he will deny you access to his body

Just imagine this

You're about to attack his poor chest again and before you can even do anything he's already blocking you against the wall, caging both of your hands at each side of your head. "Hey! It's…it's not fair. I wasn't going to do anything" You're lying and he knows it by how red you're getting. The edge of his helmet brushes against your cheek slightly while his hands slide yours up, blocking them there to have you as expose as he wants.

His hands are so big, he can easily hold both of your wrist with just one. His other one roams freely through your body, the calloused fingertips makes you shiver. A small whimper escapes your mouth as his hand reaches your throat and squeezes just enough. You're squirming under his gaze, not from fear or displeasure but quite the opposite. He just enjoys the view of his little helpless y/n trying to get free when you both know perfectly that if he doesn't wants you to leave you're not leaving. Oh, you long feeling him so much you just can't take it when you can't reach him.

Yeah bro really enjoys edging and denying shit like is no one business. Now that he knows your weakness he's gonna be a fucking menace

Like walking around with his whole upper body expose just to catch you staring and make you feel like a perv

He's having the time of his life

#slasher fandom #slashers #slasher community #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #horror movies #slasher headcanons #slasher #slasher movies #slasher imagines #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

Like Humans Do

***As an apology for Come Back To Me, I have come with offerings of fluff. This is my first poly!MC fluff fic that I've written in a while (if ever) so I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to the Hive for helping me get ideas together -B***

Summary: MC decides that, for once, they want to be the one to surprise and plan an outing for their significant others. Follow MC and the lords of the Devildom on their journey out into the human world and all the shenanigans that follow. Poly!MC

Dating the seven Avatars of Sin was something that you never saw coming, but something that you would never trade for the world. It was a constant thrill of guessing what surprises the day would hold for you this time. You were so grateful for them and the love that they gave you.

But sometimes you wished that you could be the one to spoil them for a change.

Since there were seven of them and one of you, it seemed like you were the one who was constantly on the receiving end of gifts, profoundly planned dates, and sentimental exchanges. It was nice and you definitely appreciated it, but you wanted to show the boys that you loved them just as equally.

So, you talked with Diavolo and with a little secretive planning, you were able to put together a day where you could do exactly that.

You bounced on your toes as you watched the brothers stumble through the portal with their eyes closed.

"Do we really have ta keep are eyes shut? I mean, it's not like we ain't gonna find ou- Ow!" Mammon complained as Belphie elbowed them.

"Stop complaining! Just keep your eyes shut. They put a lot of work into this, so if MC says they want it to be a surprise, then let it be a damn surprise!"

You rolled your eyes at the bickering and gently lead the brothers a little bit away from the portal. "Actually, I was just about to tell you to open your eyes, but I appreciate the backup, Belphie."

One by one, your boyfriends opened their eyes and loudly groaned before shutting them.

"Too bright!" Levi shouted while guarding his face with his hands. "How in the world did you find somewhere this bright in the Devildom?"

You smiled as you delicately lowered Levi's hands with your own. "Well, we aren't exactly in the Devildom."

Levi's eyes instantly snapped back open as he looked around himself with the expression and enthusiasm of a kid in a candy shop. "No way! You brought us to the human world?!"

Satan looked around at the coastal village you all seemed to be in. "You know, no matter how many times I've visited up here or seen it pictures in books, the real thing never fails to impress me."

You beamed at him brightly, "That's how I feel about the Devildom," you shifted your gaze over to your other lovers as you gestured to the space around you. "I thought that since you guys have shown me the things you love most about the Devildom and taught me about your culture, it was about time that I did the same with mine," you blushed as noted that Mammon and Beel were still gaping at you, and nervously fiddled with your hair. "I-If that's okay with everyone. I can, uh, we can always go back to the Devildom and have a movie night or something if you guys aren't comfortable but-"

"Are ya kiddin' me?! Why the hell would I want to go back to that musty old place, when I can spend the day with you up here?" Mammon shouted. "I love the human world! You guys have some of the best Casinos in all of the realms! Granted, I've only ever been there for work reasons, but still!"

Lucifer sighed at Mammon's comment, but even so, the subtle smile gracing his lips remained as he looked down at you. "I'm sure we won't be going to any Casinos today, Mammon. MC probably has an entire day planned to show us their favourite things about the human world, don't you?"

You pouted at just how easily Lucifer was able to deduce everything. "You didn't have to guess it so quickly."

Lucifer chuckled as he leaned down to peck your lips. "Apologies, Beloved," he whispered, taking great joy in the flushed look on your face.

"S-So!" Levi shouted loudly, very clearly interrupting your moment with Lucifer. "Where are we going to first?"

You pulled out a folded piece of paper and looked down at it. "Well, according to the schedule I made, we're headed to the boardwalk. They have all kinds of stuff to do there. Shopping, an aquarium, an amusement park, and of course the beach. So we can easily spend the rest of our day over there before the fireworks start tonight," You tilted your head as you looked back up at your lovers. "How does that sound?"

Asmo giggled as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "That sounds perfect, love. You really do know how to spoil us, don't you?"

You turned your head to softly kiss Asmo's cheek in return. "Well, after everything you've all done for me, it's the least. I can do," your eyebrow furrowed slightly as you sighed. "Since we've all got together, you guys have always been the ones to treat me and take me out, and I've been slacking off and not returning the favour," You flashed them all a guilt-filled smile. "You all deserve the best, a-and maybe I'm not always able to be the perfect partner, but I want to try."

"Oh MC," Beelzebub cooed as he took your face in his hands. "To us, you're already perfect. It doesn't matter if you can't always arrange dates or surprises like this. We don't date you for those things. We date you because we love you unconditionally."

You felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears as your heart melted at your lover's words. You wrapped Beel into a hug and muttered a soft thank you as he held you tightly.

You took a shaky breath as you pulled away from him and ran a hand over your face. "O-Okay. We haven't even gotten started yet, I can't start crying already," you giggled as you grinned at your boys. "Allow me to show you the wonders of the human world."

The sun beamed down on the eight of you as you made your way through the urban, sea-side streets and wandered over to the bustling boardwalk.

It had been decided after a solid ten minutes of bickering that you would begin your day at the small aquarium that sat near the end of the docks.

Levi had practically dragged you to the building, gripping tightly onto your hand.

He gaped and awed at the creatures surrounding him. He had been to an aquarium before, the Devildom had a few, but the fish there were mostly monstrosities in their own right. He had never seen these elegant, almost ethereal, underwater creatures, that glided inside the tanks around him.

Levi blinked over at a glowing blob that casually floated up to the glass next to him. He beamed over at you as he pointed to it. "Look at this MC! It's so cool!"

You smiled and moved closer to him. "That's a lanternfish. Cute, right?"

Beel perked in interest and peered down at it. "A lanternfish? Do they have a little lantern inside of them or something?"

A mischievous grin climbed onto your expression as your eyes lit up, "Not quite," you stated with certainty. You could see Satan smirk out of the corner of your eye. "Lanternfish were created when a small fish swam a little too close to the surface during a storm one night and got struck by lightning. The lightning gave it its bioluminescent properties which allow it to glow in its deep-sea habitat."

Beel and Mammon gasped and turned to the lanternfish with great interest, soaking in your every word.

Lucifer rose an eyebrow as he nudged you with his elbow. "You know, you shouldn't lie to him like that."

Satan flashed his brother a catlike grin as he leaned onto you. "But Lucifer, who said that MC was lying? The science of reanimation using lightning has been around in the human world for years. It all began after the incredible research of Dr. Frankenstien in 1817," he scoffed and looked down at you. "Man, kind of embarrassing that he doesn't know one of the biggest names in human science."

You nodded in agreement as you looked at Lucifer. "Yeah, truly a shame, especially after all Frankenstein did for humanity. Sounds like you need to hit a few books, eh Lucifer?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyebrows and you could practically see his brain attempting to processes your stories. He clearly recognized the name Frankenstein, but not well enough to call you out. His obsidian gaze flickered over to the lanternfish once more, eye twitching before he confidently turned back to the two of you. "I've heard of Dr. Frankenstien before, I just wasn't aware that his efforts had such a profound impact," he turned on his heel and walked deeper into the aquarium, missing the low five exchanged between you and Satan.

After another hour of water-painted walls and half-spun lies about the origins of octopi, crabs and other fish, you all finally made your way out of the aquarium and hopped down to the beach for some relaxation.

Well, mostly relaxation.

You fondly watched as Mammon screeched, running away from Beel, Satan and Levi who were all armed with water guns.

"Oh Lovebug~" You looked over at Asmo was waving you over to the umbrellas and towels he had set up. He lifted a bottle of sunscreen and shook it. "Why don't you come over here so I can apply your sunscreen?" He smirked tilting his head as he innocently rested a finger against his cheek. "Wouldn't want your beautiful skin getting burnt."

You giggled as you walked over to Asmo and sat down on the towels in front of him. "Thanks, Asmo."

He pressed a playful kiss to the back of your neck before beginning to rub in the sunscreen. "Anything for you, love."

A groan tore both of you from your thoughts as you looked over at Belphegor laying face first in the sand. "It is way too hot and gross out for you two to be this mushy."

You snorted and flicked some sand at the demon. "No need to be grouchy, Bel. If you're feeling gross then get under the umbrella and drink some water."

He let out an even louder groan as he blindly stretched an arm out towards the shaded area. "But it's too far and I don't want to get up."

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the lazy demon. Belphegor turned his head to look at you and raised a suspicious eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

You smiled sharply at him, "Well, if you're too lazy to get up," the demon yelped as his world spun and he suddenly being carried bridal style in your arms. His cheeks flushed red as he clutched onto your shirt. "I guess I'll just have to carry you~"

You could hear Asmo cackling and wolf-whistling at the two of you as you carried Belphie back into the shade. You set him down on a towel and wiped the sand off your hands as you passed him a water bottle.

He blushed deeply as he accepted it, muttering under his breath. "Thanks, Angel."

You were about to lean down to give your partner a kiss when a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist and you were suddenly hoisted into the air.

"Try gettin' me now, ya bastards!!" Mammon screamed as he took off down the beach with you in his arms and a protesting Beel, Levi and Satan chasing him. "I got MC!"

"Mammon, be careful!" Lucifer shouted out from his own towel. "Don't run like that, you idiot! You're going to-"

Mammon yelped as his foot got caught on a piece of driftwood. A scream tore its way from your throat as you went soaring through the air and into the water.

"MC!"

You popped your head out of the shallow waves and spit out a mouthful of saltwater. "I'm okay!" You graciously accepted a fretting Beelzebub's hand and rose back to your feet. "I'm alright. I didn't hurt anything. Just a little wet."

Beel frowned, eyes searching your body for any signs of bruising. He huffed and glanced over at the others. "I'm hungry. We should take a break and get some food from the boardwalk."

Mammon let out a loud whine. "What? But we were just havin' fun!"

"No, Beelzebub's right. It wouldn't be bad to take a break from... all of this," Lucifer scrunched up his nose as he gestured to Mammon still holding a water gun in one hand.

You giggled and ruffled Mammon's hair as you walked past him. "It's alright, Mams. Besides, there are all kinds of games and rides on the boardwalk. I'm sure you'll find some kind of fun up there."

Levi groaned from behind you, "Do not give him ideas."

As you all made your way up to the more crowded paths of the boardwalk, you couldn't help but notice the wide-eye stares that the brothers seemed to attract. You brushed off the attraction the best you could; a few stares could only be expected with how intimidating the brothers were, after all. Everything was fine.

The group of you found a couple tables not too far from the rows of food stands and food trucks and made quick work of pushing them together to have enough space for everyone.

You grabbed Beel's hand and waved back at the others. "Beel and I will go get food for everyone, you guys save our table."

Beelzebub clung tightly onto your hand as he excitedly eyed all the new food around him. You looked adoringly up at him, taking joy in the unrestrained happiness that lit up his entire expression, as you pulled him over to the stands. "There's all kinds of junk food here. Carnival food can be a little hard on the stomach, so we probably shouldn't get too much, but you're welcome to try what you'd like."

He leaned down close to you as he grinned widely at your words. "What do you recommend? I want to try all of your favourites!"

Your chest warmed and you placed a tender kiss on his nose. "We should probably get some actually meal-like foods. Corn dogs are a carnival classic, but they won't fill you much," you thought out loud as tapped your chin. "Some nachos would be good for sharing with everyone, and we can get some cotton candy for a treat afterwards. Maybe some slushies to cool down."

"I don't really know what any of that is, but it sounds delicious!"

You giggled and affectionately nudged the giant redhead as you brought over to a food truck. "Then prepare to have your mind blown!"

The two of you walked over the truck and waved at the cashier. "Hello, um, can we have seven orders of extra-large nachos, eight bags of cotton candy and eight slushies, please?"

The cashier's eyes widened as they stared at you. "Seven? Are you sure? That's a lot of food?"

Beel leaned down to look into the window and flashed them a bashful smile. "Sorry. I'm a big eater, and we have a large group with us."

The cashier's cheeks reddened as they nodded. "O-Oh! No, no problem at all! Of course! We'll have it ready soon. You can wait by the side window over there. Here are your cups for the slushies," They handed you the cups, not once dropping eye contact with Beel. They giggled as Beel paid with the card you had handed him earlier. "You know, you said you're a big eater, but you really don't show it. You're in great shape."

Your eyes narrowed slightly at their actions. You cleared your throat, forcing them to look at you as you gave them a sharp, tense, grin. "Thank you," you turned to Beel and pressed a kiss to his cheek. The demon's cheeks flushed as he blinked in confusion. "Come on, babe~" you spoke in a sickly sweet voice as you took his hand into your own. "Let's go wait for our food."

Beel nodded enthusiastically and followed you without so much as glancing back at the cashier.

Belphie smirked at you as you and Beel brought the food back to the table. "What was that?"

You raised an eyebrow at him as you set down a tray in front of him. "What was what?"

Levi snorted and dramatically bat his eyes. "Come on, babe! Ignore this flirty cashier and pay attention to me. Let's go wait for our food," he spoke in a false falsetto.

You grumbled and took a sip of your slushie. "They were eyeing up, Beel."

Beelzebub's eyes flickered between his laughing brothers and you before his jaw dropped in realization. "You were jealous?"

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. "I wasn't jealous! I-I just didn't like how they were looking at you. That's all."

Beel chuckled as he took his seat beside you. "It's okay, Hun. You're allowed to get jealous sometimes," he pecked your lips before turning to his food. "Just know that I've only got eyes for you."

Asmo nodded in agreement as he licked some cotton candy off his fingers. "Besides, you're hot when you get all possessive over us."

You groaned and dropped your forehead onto the table as the boys erupted into laughter.

Once everyone had their fill of the food and teasing you, your group ventured further down the boardwalk to inspect the different games and attractions.

Mammon gasped as he spotted a giant crow stuffie wearing sunglasses on display at a shooting game. Before anyone had a chance to stop him, he rushed over to the stand and slammed his hands on the counter.

"How much for the crow?"

The man running the booth smirked as he saw the greedy stars dazzling in Mammon's eyes. "I'm afraid it's not for sale, son. You have to win it. Knock down that target, and ya got yourself a deal."

Mammon scoffed and pulled out his wallet. "Easy. A silly, human-shooting game is nothin'."

You frowned and quickly grabbed Mammon's arm before he could give the carnie his money. "Mammon wait. These games are usually rigged to be impossible to beat. You shouldn't waste your money."

You should've known better than to tell Mammon that there was something he couldn't do because the moment you did, the determination in his eyes tripled as handed his money over. "Don't worry, Treasure. The Great Mammon's got this."

The Great Mammon definitely did not have this.

Mammon was now growling, down to his last few bills as he handed over more cash for what would be his tenth attempt at shooting down the target on the wall.

The carnie simply stood to the side, smugly counting his money as Mammon fired pellet after pellet and continuously missed the target.

"Gragh!" He shouted out as he tossed down the fake gun. "This thing has to be broken!"

Satan shook his head at his brother's antics and made his way over. "You probably just aren't doing it right. Let me try."

Mammon huffed, but having nearly run out of cash, handed over the gun.

Satan confidently spun the gun around before aiming it carefully at the target.

Ping! Ping! Ping!

You winced as the brothers let out shouts of victory and Satan hit the target, dead center in quick succession.

"Now," Satan grinned at the carnie. "I believe we're owed that giant crow stuffie."

The carnie scoffed and shook his head. "Sorry pal. Target's still standin', so no big prize." He reached behind him and grabbed three, small, neon-coloured, stuffed stars. "Here's what ya get."

Satan's eye twitched as he crushed the stuffed stars in his hand and glared at the carnie.

Realizing that the demon was about to burst into a rage any second now, you quickly grabbed your partner's shoulders and smiled politely at the carnie. "We should get going. Thanks for letting us play!"

You quickly dragged Satan away from the booth before any more of a scene could be stirred up.

The rest of the day passed smoothly as you all explored the rest of the docks. Before you knew it, nighttime had fallen.

The eight of you had returned to your spot on the beach where you now had a small bonfire going. You sat against Lucifer's chest, relaxing in his arms, as you watched the boys laugh amongst one another, roast marshmallows and exchange stories.

You sighed in content as you leaned against Lucifer; he nuzzled his face into your hair in return. "Thank you for this, beloved," he whispered into your scalp. "You have no idea how much today has meant to all of us. You're truly incredible, and thank Diavolo every day for bringing you into our lives."

"It's the least I could do," you said softly. "Being with all of you has been some of the happiest moments of my life. It might be ironic to say this, but I feel so blessed getting to spend my days surrounded by all of you and loved by all of you," you turned your head to look at Lucifer. His expression softened as your eyes met. "I love you guys, and I just wanted to make sure you knew it."

Before Lucifer could respond a resonating boom pierced through the sky. You all gasped as colours exploded in the inky darkness above you, and sparks fell like glitter over the boardwalks skyline.

You couldn't help but grin at the wide-eyed wonder that filled all of their expressions at the sight, and prayed to whatever higher being was listening that there'd be many nights like this in your future with just you and your boys.

***Thank you all so much for reading! You guys are amazing and I am always in shock of all the love and support I receive from you. I hope you enjoyed the fic! -B***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost@henry-and-the-seven-lords@satans-beloved-riv@cosmixbun@sufzku @halfhysterical @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor@yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino@rulaien @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry

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sequinsmile-x · 2 years

Note

HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE

here are some prompts for youuuuu

“This reminded me of you”

“Make a wish!”

"I can't believe you remembered that" "I remember everything about you"

it’s emily’s birthday !!!

i love you very much

OH HEY LOVE.

This...really got away from me. I know that won't surprise anyone.

-x-

The Greatest Gift

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: None, just super fluffy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily had never enjoyed her birthday. As a child, she’d always be somewhere new by the time it rolled around, never anywhere long enough to have good enough friends to get gifts. Even on the odd occasion, she did have someone her mother had never been the type to throw parties. The day was always marked with a gift she knew one of her mother’s assistants had purchased, or when she was older access to her credit card to buy herself something, followed up by a ridiculously expensive meal somewhere.

She enjoyed other people's birthdays. Loved the delight on their face as they opened the carefully selected gift from her, a receipt always in the box just in case she somehow got it wrong. She rarely did, a mix of her profiling skills along with how well she knew those close to her meant she often got it right, the most recent example being Jack’s 6th birthday.

His birthday was only a few days before hers, something he had been delighted to learn himself, inviting her along to his birthday party with such enthusiasm she wouldn’t have been able to say no if she’d wanted to.

She and Aaron had been close friends for a while, edging towards something more in the days and weeks before Ian Doyle had torn through her life. She had hazy memories of Aaron visiting her in hospital, still in the suit he’d worn to her funeral, a tension in his expression she still felt guilty for putting there. He’d kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand, a promise of someday against her skin before he left, her chest feeling empty as if he had taken her heart right along with him.

Since her return from Paris he’d been somewhat of a lifeline for her, the only person who could come close to understanding what she’d been through, his own life left broken around him by a man who did so just because he could. She spent most of her free weekends with the Hotchners, both Aaron and Jack helping her make her new apartment feel like home, despite the fact most of the belongings from before had been sold. Aaron helped practically, putting together furniture and painting walls, rolling his eyes at her and Jack as they sat together and played games. Jack helped in a different way, his laughter filling the space she now called home with something new, something innocent.

She loved them. Loved them more than she thought she should. Maternal feelings for Jack that she wondered if she deserved to feel, a sense of something close to pride in her chest when he did well at a soccer game. Pain and protectiveness if she happened to be at their apartment when he woke from a nightmare, running out to the living room where she and Aaron shared a bottle of wine, seeking out her comfort over his father's.

She was in love with Aaron. Loved him in a way she was once sure didn’t exist until she realised that’s how she felt about him. The moment it hit her she realised she’d loved him for a long time, the feelings trailing all the way back to when he was attacked by Foyet, what she’d convinced herself was friendship somehow so much deeper. In Paris, she had come to terms with the fact that somewhere along the way she had fallen in love with her boss, her best friend.

She was in love with him but wasn’t sure she would ever do anything about it. Their friendship was so precious to her that she didn’t know if she wanted to risk it, even if she would sometimes catch him looking at her in the same way she knew she looked at him.

So, when she shows up at Jack’s birthday party, one of the only adults to stay the entire time apart from Aaron himself and JJ who had brought Henry along, she ignores how the way Aaron smiles at her makes her stomach flip. Ignores how Jack’s excitement at her gift of an annual family pass to the aquarium, his latest obsession of sharks something he often talked to her at length about, makes her fall even further in love with the boy.

She has to fight her instinct to kiss Aaron to shut him up when he says the gift is too much, that he’d pay her back for part of it. Instead, she just rolls her eyes at him and jokes she’d come along with them every time if it would make him feel better. Even she can’t ignore the relief she feels when he immediately agrees.

Aaron pulls her aside the day after Jack’s birthday and asks her if she has any plans for her own. She immediately says no, because she didn’t. She’d politely declined Penelope and JJ’s request to go out for drinks, not particularly feeling up to it. When he asks her if she wants to spend the evening with him and Jack, she says yes without really thinking about it, unable to deny them anything, which is how she finds herself standing outside his door on her birthday, a bottle of wine in hand and nervous energy she can’t shift.

She’s about to turn around, get back in her car and tell him she wasn’t feeling up to it, when he opens the door, her hand still hovering to knock, a smile on his face. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a black polo shirt, the sight of him in casual clothes still making her heart race even though it was becoming a more common occurrence for her.

“Happy birthday!” Aaron says, pulling her into a brief hug before he beckons her into the apartment, his hand on her lower back, the ever-present spark of love for him threatening to go off at the slightest touch.

“Thank you,” she replies, smiling curiously at him, “how did you know I was here?”

“You’ve been standing out here for 5 minutes,” he says, one of his dimples on show, “I thought if I gave you any longer to knock of your own accord you might leave.”

She laughs, unable to deny it, and hands over the bottle of wine. “Here you go.”

“It’s your birthday, Em,” he rolls his eyes as he takes it from her, heading towards the kitchen. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

“Mother always said to never go anywhere empty handed,” she replies, smiling as she follows him.

“Did you speak to her today?” He asks, getting out a glass of wine for each of them, opening the bottle she had handed him.

“Depends if you call the text she sent me first thing this morning speaking.” She quips as he pours the wine.

He opens his mouth to respond, a slight crease to his brow, but is cut off by the sound of Jack running through the apartment.

“Emily!” The young boy exclaims, barrelling into her at a rate she was now used to, just about able to brace herself before impact. He wraps his arms around her tightly, and she automatically hugs him back just as tightly. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, honey,” she replies, her hand running through his hair.

“Can we give Emily her presents now?” Jack asks, turning to his father without attempting to remove himself from Emily’s embrace, his head resting against her.

“After dinner, Jack,” Aaron replies, chuckling at his son’s impatience when he rolls his eyes.

“Presents?” Emily asks, uncurling one arm from around Jack to take the glass of wine Aaron was offering her. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s your birthday, why wouldn’t we get you something?” Jack asks, looking up at her, his eyebrows furrowing.

Emily looks at Aaron who shrugs his shoulders, “He’s got a point,” he says, winking at her when she rolls her eyes at him, “I’ve made your favourite for dinner, why don’t you two go sit down until it’s ready.”

She can’t help the smile that spreads all over her face, her chest bursting with affection for him that she has to swallow back down.

“You heard your dad, Jack,” She says, looking down at him as she leads him towards the living room, “why don’t we watch some tv until dinner.”

Jack’s eyes light up immediately, “There’s a new episode of Transformers!”

She walks with him, idly listening as he catches her up on what she has missed since she last watched it with him, pretending the whole time that she cannot feel Aaron’s gaze burning into their backs.

___

“You have to keep your eyes closed.”

Emily sighs playfully at Jack’s request, but does as she’s told, a smile on her face as she does so.

“Ok, my eyes are closed,” she says, staying in her seat at the dining table, despite the fact she was now alone. She hears whispering between Aaron and Jack, not quite able to pick up on what they were saying, and it makes her smile.

“You can open them now.”

She does so and is met with the sight of both of them standing in front of her, a small cake with a lit candle it in Aaron’s hands. As soon as her eyes are open they start singing happy birthday, as out of tune as she’d ever heard it, but it’s immediately her favourite birthday memory ever, her smile threatening to give way to tears as Aaron places the cake on the table in front of her. He takes his seat next to her again, and Jack climbs into her lap, her arms wrapping around him automatically.

“This is so sweet,” she says, her voice tight, something she knows Aaron has picked up on when he puts his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly as their eyes meet.

“The cake is small,” Jack says, his eyebrows furrowed as if it was a bad thing, as if the mere existence of the cake in front of her, the singular candle lit in it, wasn’t making her skin tingle with so much affection for them both she could burst, “but Dad said we could only get a small one because there are only three of us, and that we’d need a huge cake to fit on all the candles we’d need if we counted them out.”

Aaron makes a slight choking noise, drawing her attention to him as he coughs around a sip of his wine, his hand on his chest as he puts the glass down. She bites her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing, the panic in his eyes set fire to that spark of love she’d felt when she arrived, an inferno burning in her belly.

“That isn’t exactly what I said Jack.”

Emily smirks at him before turning back to Jack, “It’s your dad’s birthday in a few weeks, right?” Her smile widens as he nods enthusiastically at her, “imagine how big the cake will need to be to get enough candles for that!”

Jack laughs along with her, and she looks at Aaron. He’s watching them both, his fondness clear as he jokingly rolls his eyes at them.

“Ok, very funny you two,” he says, “blow out your candle.”

She smiles at him and leans down to blow out the candle, but Jack stops her, his hand on her arm.

“Remember to make a wish,” he says seriously, an expression on his face that he inherited from his father. She nods in response, closing her eyes briefly as she thinks of something, unable to stop the smile she knows flashes across her face as she lands on what she wants more than anything. She blows out the candle and settles back properly in her seat. “What did you wish for?”

She reaches out and tickles the young boy, laughing along with him when he tries to squirm away from her.

“I can’t tell you that, can I?” She says, her eyes flashing to meet Aaron’s, a flush on her cheeks as his eyes meet hers. She looks back at Jack, smiling at his slight pout. “Otherwise it won’t come true.”

Unaware of the moment that had passed between the two adults in the room, Jack scrambles out of her lap.

“Present time,” he declares, briefly running out of view before he’s back, a crudely wrapped box that he had clearly wrapped himself put in front of her as he sits on her lap again, “this reminded me of you,” he says proudly, and she immediately knows no matter what it is it’s her new favourite thing.

“Thank you, Jack,” she says, kissing the side of his head as she unwraps the box, pulling it open to reveal a mug inside. It was white, decorated with cartoon black cats, each looking more mischievous than the last.

“It’s just like Sergio!” He explains, his smile as wide as she had ever seen it, his pride at his choice of gift clear.

“I love it,” she exclaims, holding him closer to her as she puts the mug down, “I’ll take it to work, this way Uncle Derek won’t be able to take my mug and claim it’s his anymore.”

“Daddy got you a gift too,” Jack says, looking over at Aaron, who didn’t even try to hide how he was looking at them both.

“I’ll give that to her later, buddy,” he says casually, standing back up and picking up the cake, “we’ll eat this first, then it’s your bedtime.”

___

She’s alone on the couch, Aaron putting a reluctant, but clearly tired Jack to bed, her mind unable to focus on anything except the fact she felt more at home here than she did at her own place.

“Sorry that took so long,” Aaron says, joining her out of seemingly nowhere, a glass of wine in one hand and a wrapped gift in the other, “he kept coming up with excuses to come back out here,” he adds as he sits down, his glass of wine set on the table, their knees brushing as he does so, “he loves you.”

She smiles at that, taking another sip of her wine before she places the glass down on the coffee table.

“The feeling is definitely mutual,” she replies, turning so she was facing him a little better, her knees brushing his again as she brings her legs up under her, “you’ve raised one hell of a kid, Aaron.”

He blushes, clearing his throat as he always does whenever anyone complimented him on his parenting.

“Well, I try my best.” He says diplomatically, smiling tightly at her. Usually, she lets it go, and doesn’t push further when the subject matter clearly makes him feel uncomfortable. But something about tonight, the way he’d been with her, the glimpse of a family that he so often gifted ever, pushes her to say something.

“Aaron,” she says, putting her hand on his knee, “you’re an excellent father. After everything he’s been through he’s still the kindest, sweetest little boy. And that’s because of you.” She squeezes his knee, hoping she can get her point across, that one day, if she keeps chipping away at his insecurities, at his guilt, he’ll believe her. “I’ll tell you that every day if I have to.”

He places his hand over hers briefly, squeezing it in silent thanks. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.” He grimaces as he says it, the fact they had lived without her for seven months briefly making the air thick, a tension she hates briefly settling over them. He clears his throat and hands her the package in his hand. “This is for you.”

She shakes her head at him as she takes it, removing her hand from his knee.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, gesturing around the apartment, “tonight was enough.”

“Emily, open the damn gift.” He replies, his voice as stern as it got when he was out of the office, a tiny bit of Hotch peeking through.

“Yes, sir,” she says jokingly, winking at him when he glowers at her. She’s still laughing as she rips the paper open, the sound dying in her throat as she unwraps the gift.

It’s a copy of her favourite book, Slaughter-House Five by Kurt Vonnegut, one of her many belongings that she’d lost since her death, her books all sold on.

“Aaron…” She breathes out, holding the book in both of her hands.

“Open it.” He says, and she briefly looks up at him before she does so, flipping the cover open to see the publishing date - 1969 - and a signature she knew was Vonnegut’s. “I remember you saying you usually read it once a year, and that you keep meaning to buy a copy.”

She’d said it to him exactly once. When he was building her a bookcase and she was ‘helping’ by handing him parts as he requested them. The love she’d been pushing down, happy to store it in a box in her head forever so she could keep his friendship, threatens to burst free.

“Aaron,” she says, covering her mouth with a slightly shaky hand, never able to cover how she truly felt in front of him “this is a first edition it must have cost…I can’t-”

He cuts her off, his hand on her knee this time. “It’s a gift, Emily.”

She stares at him, unsure what to say as she closes the book, settling it into her lap as she wipes a stray tear from her lash line, hoping he would somehow miss it.

"I can't believe you remembered that,” she says, her voice thick. She looks up at him from the book and he’s suddenly closer, and her breath catches in her throat.

"I remember everything about you," he all but whispers, their eyes locking as they fall into silence, time seemingly stopping around them.

Later, they’d argue about who leant in first. Who took the final step towards something they’d been walking towards for years. In the end, it doesn’t matter, the moment his lips touch hers all the doubt, all the fears she’d been feeling melt away. She cups the back of his head, holding him closer as her tongue swipes at his bottom lip. He swallows her moan as her mouth opens, his hand on her cheek.

When they pull back, she rests her forehead against his, both of them catching their breath as they figure out what to say next.

“Emily-”

“Aaron-”

They speak at the same time, both chuckling as they do so. They separate far enough to look at each other properly, and he takes her hand in his, linking their fingers together.

“Ladies first.” He says, ever the gentleman, and she smiles at him.

“I…I want this,” she says carefully, “I want you,” she chuckles at herself, her sound coming out more like a sob, “I have done for longer than I probably should,” she admits, looking down at their joint hands, “but I’m not the person I was before Doyle, before Paris. I’m different and…I don’t know if I’m the person you want me to be anymore.”

The silence that she knows only lasts a few seconds feels like a lifetime, but he hooks his finger under her chin, making her look up at him, the smile on his face reassuring.

“Emily,” he says gently as he wipes a tear from her cheek, the softest she’d ever heard his voice when he wasn’t speaking to Jack, “I love you.”

She gasps, not because she hadn’t felt it before, she knew he loved her, but because she never expected this, never thought they’d make it this far.

“Aaron-”

“I love you as you are, no matter what,” he says, shuffling a little closer, his arm looping around her waist, encouraging her forward into his lap, the book he had given her falling onto the couch, “everything else we can figure out,” he tucks her hair behind her ear, his thumb delicate at her cheek. “When you were…when you were gone I told myself that when I saw you again I’d tell you, that I wouldn’t waste any more time, and then you came back and we fell back into the same pattern as before. I love you, Emily Prentiss,” he says, and she chokes out a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh, “and the rest doesn’t matter as long as you love me too.”

She knows it’s not that simple, not really, that in the morning they’d have other things to consider. The team, their tenuous footing back on even ground sure to be rocked by this. The wider FBI and any rules that might get in their way. Jack. Although, she was sure he would be delighted by this.

She knows it’s not that simple, but maybe, just this once, it could be.

“I love you too,” she replies, leaning forward to press her lips to his, their kiss tasting like her tears. She wraps her arms around his neck, holding him close. “I have for a long time.”

When she pulls back she smiles at him, her fingers playing with the short hair on the back of his head. They fall into a comfortable silence, so many things not needing to be said, and she settles into his arms as she hugs him back, lets herself find the comfort there, the safety, she had craved for so long. She didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to break the bubble they had found themselves in

“Can I stay tonight?” She asks, cringing slightly when she realises how it sounds as she says it.

“Wow, Em, at least buy a guy dinner first.” He jokes, and she pinches at his ribs, something that makes him laugh even more.

“Not like that you asshole.”

“Two minutes into a relationship and you’re already calling me names,” he deadpans, and she pulls away to glare at him.

“Aaron.”

“Of course, you can sweetheart,” he says, smiling at her, “I wouldn’t let you go home if you wanted to.”

She beams at his use of sweetheart, leaning back into his embrace. “Thank you for tonight, for the book. It’s been the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, kissing the side of her head, “if I’d known all it would take for you to kiss me was a first edition Vonnegut, I would have bought one years ago.”

She sits up, and her chastisement of him is lost when he kisses her properly, something she welcomes without complaint.

Emily had never enjoyed her birthday. Until now.

-x-

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rengoku-loves-you · 3 years

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Jealous! Kyojuro x reader!!

Had to ask this, I love your writing way too much and I'm looking to forward on how you write it!💘

(do I need to specify more?)

(hi hun! you don't need to specify more, don't worry! i only encourage being more specific so i can give you lovelies exactly what you want, and the more details, the better! but short and sweet is good also, as long as you don't mind me taking creative liberties, haha :D i hope this is alright! thank you so much for your request! ❤️)

jealous!kyojuro x reader

he doesn't realize he's jealous, not at first. he's never been a jealous person at all, and he was always happy when the people he cared about got along with each other. he does, however, consider himself protective, and that's what he thought he was when he first felt that pang in his chest after he saw you talking to uzui, smiling and laughing away.

of course, he was glad to see you laughing! he knows he’s not a funny person, he doesn’t understand jokes at all, nor does he make any himself. he was just... concerned about you. uzui was his friend, and so were you, and he knew how overwhelming uzui could be at times if you weren’t prepared for his flamboyance.

yeah, he was just concerned. he wasn’t wishing that he could make you laugh like that. and if he was, it was only because he wanted to make you happy!

nothing else.

so when he gets that same gross feeling when he sees you talking casually to sanemi after a pillar meeting - sanemi, of all pillars - he does his very best to ignore it because he’s not jealous and he’s truly glad for you two! he just maybe, sorta wishes he were a part of the conversation, too. you, him, and sanemi.

without the sanemi part, preferably.

then sanemi wraps an arm around your neck and scrubs his knuckles against your head, making you squirm and sputter out protests through your giggles, and. okay.

maybe he’s a little jealous.

sanemi spots kyojuro over your head, and he must say something about it because when he lets you go you turn around and see him, too. you smile, raising a hand to wave, and he returns the gesture with more enthusiasm than necessary. then you wave for him to come closer, and, well, it’s not like he can not listen to you, so he hurries over and keeps the smile plastered on his face.

“fancy seeing you two here!” he says, staring directly at sanemi. “i wasn’t aware you talked!”

“well, yeah, we do missions together,” you say. kyojuro raises his brows, still not looking at you.

“really!” he exclaims. “i didn’t know this!” sanemi’s eyes narrow as he shifts into a slightly defensive stance, refusing to break the staring contest kyojuro seems to have drawn him into. normally, the flame pillar is much more adverse to eye contact, and the sudden intensity unnerves him. especially paired with that big, blank grin that feels like a threat.

“our regions are right next to each other,” he explains tersely, trying to figure out why kyojuro seems to be so off. “our missions overlap a lot, so we help each other out sometimes.”

“really!” kyojuro says again, louder than before. “how very interesting!” you can believe he sounds sincere, but sanemi has known him longer, knows better, and he scoffs as he folds his arms.

“what’s your damn problem?” he demands, stepping into kyojuro’s space. kyojuro blinks up at him, not moving away even when their noses nearly touch.

“problem? what problem? i don’t have one!” and it would be convincing, too, if he hadn’t glanced over at you, only to realize you were staring at him with open concern. his attention snapped back quick, his cheeks turning pink.

say what you’d like about his temper, but sanemi shinazugawa is not stupid.

“yeah, sure you don’t,” he growls, but he can hardly bring himself to really be annoyed.

“i don’t!” rengoku insists with a wide, bright smile. sanemi gives kyojuro’s shoulder a punch that’s a touch too aggressive to be friendly, then gives you a much more civil nod as kyojuro rubs his arm.

“i’ve got things to do, anyway, so i’ll see you bastards later.”

“aw,” you say with a pout. “see you later, sanemi! stay safe!” he pats you on the head as you walk past, making you smile and playfully shove his hand away. you don’t notice how kyojuro watches your interaction with sharp eyes, pressing his lips into a thin line. he’s jealous, alright.

and you’re not stupid, either.

“alright,” you say once sanemi is out of sight, “what was that about?”

“what was what about?” kyojuro looks in your general direction, eyes big and innocent. you sigh, propping a hand on your hip and frowning at him.

“that. between you and sanemi. i thought you were actually gonna throw down for a second there. so, what happened? did you two have a fight?” he’s nervous, now, gaze skittering all around your face but never settling.

“of course we didn’t,” he says. “if he’s upset with me, he attacks me until he gets bored and goes home!” which is true. you know it’s true because you’ve seen it happen. you’ve even stepped between them on occasion when you think it might be going too far.

“okay,” you say slowly. “so if you didn’t fight, what was it? i was sensing a lot of tension there.”

“i couldn’t tell you!” kyojuro crosses his arms. you continue to stare at him without a word, replaying the situation over in your head while he sweats. and before long, it hits you.

“you were jealous.” the way his eyes snap to yours far too quickly tells you everything you need to know. his mouth opens. then it closes again, and you raise an eyebrow, more amused than anything else. kyojuro never struck you as a jealous friend, but after practically chasing sanemi away from you, he proved that assumption wrong. honestly? it’s cute, if a little inconvenient to your social life.

“i... may have thought that i wanted to be talking to you instead,” kyojuro admits, very slowly, like the words cause him physical pain. “and maybe i was thinking that i want to make you laugh the way uzui can, or the way sanemi does. maybe i just want your attention sometimes, but you’re talking to someone else and i don’t want to interrupt. maybe i...” he looks down, his face flushing, and his voice gets so soft you have to lean closer. “...maybe i like you very, very much, and i want you to like me, too.”

your heart leaps.

“of course, i understand if you don’t feel the same!” he says loudly as he lifts his head again, throwing on false confidence the same way he throws on his haori every day. “the other pillars are all very amazing and likeable in their own ways, and i wouldn’t blame you if you happened to be interested in any of them instead! i only hope we can still be friends, and that you-!”

“you’re so stupid,” you interrupt, and he doesn’t have time to be offended before you move in and press your lips against his.

it visibly takes him a moment to process, standing stiff and unresponsive, before he’s forcefully kissing you back, his hands rising to grip your forearms. you only pull back once your breath starts to run out, but he chases you, making you laugh as you turn your face away.

“kyo, come on, i need to breathe,” you say, and he retreats enough to give you the biggest, warmest grin in his arsenal, outshining even the sun. you breathlessly smile back, more than relieved that your feelings are mutual. you’re not sure how he didn’t notice you crushing on him pretty much since day one, but you’re here now, so you don’t particularly care anymore.

“you don’t need to make me laugh,” you tell him once you catch your breath, and his grin falters. “you don’t need to be like uzui or sanemi or shinobu or giyuu or anyone else. you don’t need to tell me weird stories or help me out on missions or hug me all the time to make me like you.”

“who hugs you all the time?”

“the point,” you emphasize, putting your hands on his cheeks and pulling him closer until your foreheads touch, “is that i like you the way you are. you’re sweet, you’re passionate, and you’re always so happy to see me that it makes my day. you’re likeable in your own way, kyojuro. and i just happen to like you more than everyone else.” his golden-red eyes are wide, so wide and shiny that you’re afraid he might cry. his hands come up to cover yours, gently holding them against his face. he whispers your name, and you kiss him one more time.

“so no more of this jealous stuff, okay?” you say, and he laughs, hiccuping and wet.

“i can’t make any promises!”

#demon slayer imagines #demon slayer rengoku imagines #rengoku imagines #kny imagines #kny rengoku imagines #kyojuro rengoku imagines #rengoku x reader #anon request #hehe this was really fun!#kinda hard since he doesn't strike me as the jealous type #but fun!#i hope i did him justice!!#thank you for your request!

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lis-likes-fics · 3 years

Text

Surveillance | Chapter 8

"I've decided that today should be my last session," Maria told you towards the end of the meeting.

You looked up at her, "What?"

"What?" Natasha asked as she sat forward, setting her Chinese food to the side.

"It's been a year and these sessions have really helped me. I'm feeling a lot better now than I was and it's thanks to you," she told you with a smile.

You sat back in your seat and nodded slowly as you cleared your throat, "Alright then. Um, I'm glad you're feeling better and I'm glad to have helped."

You both stood, Scout staying where she was on the couch as she watched with her tongue hanging from her mouth. You gave Maria a hug and sighed, "I'm going to miss seeing you."

"Yeah, I will too," she replied. You both left the room and returned to the front door. Scout trotted behind the both of you, content as could be. You hugged Maria again at the door and said, "If you need anything, you know where to find me. This past year has been great, and I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," she told you before bending down and petting Scout. "Gonna miss you, furball," she said.

Scout barked lightly and Maria stood, waving and getting to her car. As she opened the door, she stepped a foot in and said, "Maybe we could hang out sometime." She got in the car and drove away instead of waiting for your response.

You smiled gently and waved. Scout jumped up on your legs and panted in your face. You pet her soft fur and sighed, "Well, that happened."

"Yes, it did," Natasha said to herself as she waited for Maria to return. She had a couple of words to share with her.

"You quit? Why the hell would you quit?" she asked.

Maria sighed, "Fury's orders. He said he's promoting my part in the mission. Said I was going to get personal."

Natasha sighed to herself, a ping of jealousy in her chest. "So you're going to date her because Fury said so."

She shrugged with another sigh, "I mean, she's not bad. I wouldn't mind hanging out with her."

Natasha nodded a little, "Yeah, but she kind of likes you. This feels a little unfair."

Maria nodded, "I like her, too. But you're right. At the same time, though, I can't disobey direct orders from Fury. I have to do it. I won't manipulate her though, don't worry about that. She is still my friend."

Natasha sighed, running a hand down her face before nodding, "Okay."

"Why do you care anyway?" Maria asked with a raised brow.

Before Natasha could turn red, she spoke, "Well, it's easier to watch her when she isn't sulking. It'd suck if she found out you were just part of her mission."

"Oh," Maria answered, a smirk on her face, "So it isn't because you care about her?"

Natasha's face hardened to cover up the blush that threatened to crawl up her neck, "Well, I have to care a little. But not like you're suggesting, that's just inappropriate. You don't fall in love with your mission."

Maria nodded with a shrug, "Whatever you say. I gotta get back to work and you should too. I think you have a text."

Maria turned to get back to her duties and Natasha turned to return to her own. She picked up her phone where she saw a couple of texts there from you.

/Did you hear what Mae asked me?/ /Nat/ /Are you there?/ /Nat?/

She texted you back quickly to ease your concern. /Sorry, I was away. Yes, I heard./

/You think she meant it in that way? Or maybe just hang out. What if she meant "hang out" hang out?/

/I don't know/, she texted back with a sigh and a slight smile at your enthusiasm.

/Do you want to "hang out" hang out with her?/

You sighed as you plopped down on the couch with Scout plopping on your lap. /I don't know... It wouldn't hurt, I mean, she isn't my client anymore. And it's not like anyone knows she was my client. And she's really cool to hang out with. I wouldn't mind it.../

Natasha nodded. /Whatever you want./

/Thanks, Nat./ You smiled. You were honestly relieved she was supporting you instead of steering you away from it. But at the same time, you kind of wished she turned the idea down. Then you could fantasize that maybe she was just keeping you to herself.

You were packing a couple of bags for your latest trip. You kept getting messages on your phone. You knew exactly who they were from, but you were ignoring them with rolled eyes. When you finished packing, you turned to went to pick up your phone. You laughed when you saw Scout laying on it, the muffled pings under her as she ignored it and stared at you with her tongue hanging out.

"Shoo," you told her, tapping her side until she got up. You grabbed your phone and sat next to your dog, looking at the many texts Natasha was sending you.

You had a convention being held this weekend in Virginia that you were going to. Natasha kept trying to insist that you did not have to go. She kept saying that it would be better if you stayed home because it lowered the risk of something happening to you. Then they turned into texts for you to answer the phone. Then they turned into texts for you to get your dog off of the phone.

/Nat, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me. I promise I'll be safe and I'll check up with you all the time./

She tried to argue a little more. She insisted that it was not safe for you to go out right then. You made a few more promises to her and she finally let off, one of those promises involved bringing Tony with you. She knew you were not going to let up on your argument, so she was not going to argue. She almost gave you another babysitter.

Later on the night, you dropped Scout off with your father. She was so excited as she wagged her tail aggressively and barked. When you opened your door, she climbed all the way over from the back and hopped out of the car. She rushed over to meet your father at the door, jumping up on him and circling his legs happily. "Hey, Scout!" He bent down and pet her, ruffling her thick fur as he told her, "I've got tons of treats and toys in the house. You like that?"

She barked again, circling him and licking his face. He laughed and came over to you, giving you a hug. "Take care of my dog," you told him as you hugged him.

He chuckled lightly, "I'm a vet. I'll take plenty of care of her."

He kissed your cheek and you pet Scout goodbye. She whined and barked at you as you went to get in the car. She went to get in the car with you, but you told her that you would be back soon. She whined at you and made you pet her some more before complying and staying back with your father.

You drove off towards one of Stark's sites where he kept his fancy private jets and things. He insisted that the two of you fly in that since he was accompanying you (even though you said that going to the airport was fine). Since it was late that night, you slept for most of the flight.

When the private jet landed at a landing site, you and Tony got off and into one of his cars. He called off the limo driver and took one of his fancy cars instead and went to one of his places. He apparently had a house in Virginia (you were convinced he had a house in every state), so you would be staying there.

Early in the morning, the two of you got breakfast and headed to the convention building. There were people lined at the door as they waited to get in. You and the rest of the celebrities (which consisted of the actors, directors, and producers for your movies).

Everyone was glad to see Tony Stark again. When the convention finally started, you were so happy to do autographs and get pictures with your fans. There were amazing cosplayers and artists. You were given so many letters, gifts, and general fan mail. People were surprised and excited to see Stark there, they asked for his autographs and gave him all the praise he preened under.

The convention carried on for a couple days. You met so many of your fans and answered the burning questions they had. One of said fans had confessed to being a writer and asked you questions about it. He said that your stories had inspired him and your coming out had motivated him to come out as trans. He called you his idol. You got a free picture with him, gave him an autograph, and a handwritten letter for him.

You thoroughly enjoyed hanging out with your fans and friends. It was some of the most fun you had in a while. Nat made sure you did your hourly check-ups, except for when you did the Q&A.

When the convention did come to an end, you and Stark returned home. You were worn out, but perfectly happy with everything that happened. Nat was relieved that you made it out safely.

You left the last day and had lunch on the jet with Tony. You had so many extra bags for the fan gifts you got. The plain landed in the evening and the first thing you did was drive to your dad's place.

You closed your door when you got to his place and were surprised when you were not greeted at the porch. Natasha had to rely strictly on your phone and the cameras in your car. When you opened the door, you had stopped short when you saw the state of his house.

The couch was flipped, the table was broken. There was shattered glass all over the place. The TV screen was completely broken and the electrical shorts were sounding.

"Dad!" you called, "Scout?" Your worry grew as you did not get an answer. "Daddy?!" you shouted, fear sinking into you.

You finally got an answer from his office, "We're in here, Y/N." You rushed over quickly, worried and terrified. You instantly threw your arms around your father, relieved that he was okay. "Oh my God! What the hell happened here?" You moved a hand to gently pet Scout, who was whining as she laid on her side.

He groaned and you pulled back from him. He rubbed his head a little and that was when you saw the dried blood on his forehead. You rushed to get a damp cloth and pressed it gently to his forehead. You examined his face, looking at his eyes. "Dad, you have a concussion."

He sighed and turned back to Scout. She whined as he tended to her leg, which she had broken somehow. He explained quietly to accommodate his head, "A few hours ago, I was playing with Scout when a bunch of cars pulled up to the front. These guys just came storming out of them with guns."

Your grip on his arm tightened a little and he said, "Don't worry, I wasn't hurt. They just trash the house. Scout attacked them and she hurt herself, but she just broke an arm. She'll recover just fine. They knocked me out after she attacked and left. They didn't take anything. But they did leave that note."

He pointed to the counter and you walked over after petting Scout again. You picked up the note from his desk, reading over it in fear.

'Just so you know we can find you.'

Underneath the words, there was a symbol. It was like a combined six and nine. Your phone pinged and you picked it up quickly. Nat texted you:

/What does it say?/

You took a picture of the note and sent it to her. Natasha clenched her jaw as she read the note. When she saw the symbol on the bottom, it confirmed her suspicions. The note had come from Typhon, they broke into your father's house and trashed the place. They were just trying to send you a message.

/What am I supposed to do? They targeted my father to get to me./

/Text Stark. I'm sure he'll be more than okay with letting your father stay in one of his private homes. The security will provide him better protection./

/But this is my childhood home. He wouldn't leave./

Natasha sighed as she tried to come up with a better solution. She sighed and texted you back. /Have Stark install security there then. That way we can have agents to watch him and you'll have Stark./

/Alright. I'll text him tonight./ You put your phone back in your pocket, putting the note with it before turning to your father, "We need to get you to a hospital or something."

"I'm fine," he said as she finished tending to Scout. She stood, lifting her back leg up. You pet her, pulling her closer for a hug. "It's okay, girl. Come on. I'm taking you to the hospital, Dad."

You dragged him to your car and did just that. Right when you arrived, you texted Tony what happened and he immediately headed over to your dad's place while you were out and began installing security systems around the house.

The doctor checked him over and made him stay overnight at the hospital. He tried to argue that it was unnecessary, but you agreed and told him it would be better. He reluctantly agreed as well. You told him about the security Stark was putting into the house, explaining how everything would work. Scout refused to leave your father's side, planting herself on the foot of the bed where she guarded him. You were going to stay with him as well, but he assured you that he would be fine. He told you to go home and get rest and wouldn't take no for an answer. So you obeyed and left with kisses on both their foreheads.

~~~

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