#the way it was almost healed up before i went back home only for it to get even worse

[arkhammaid]

i've been fighting this goddamn eye infection for over three weeks now

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yandere House"wife" Satoru x Reader

Call it a happy accident, the way Satoru transitioned from being a full-time sorcerer to being the man you come home to after he does domestic chores all day. You two talked about it for a little while. There was a time when Satoru would come home late at night almost every day. And he would wind down, take a shower, crawl into the bed into your arms and just pour out his heart to you. He would say he hates his job. He hates how repetitive these days were becoming. Meetings upon meetings in the morning, and then having to exercise curses that never stood a chance for the next 6 hours. You soothed him, of course. Or at least as much as you could.

Then you proposed that maybe he starts taking days off. So you'll go to work and he'll stay home to heal his mind as much as he needs to. He would do anything for you, so of course he tries it out just to make you happy. And a few rest days turned into a few weeks. A few weeks turned into a couple of months. You don't remember the last time Satoru went to work by now, his phone blowing up every day from the people and job he kind of abandoned. He didn't care anymore.

He realized that he was happiest doing these mundane and very human tasks every day. And his motivation to keep going was just you. If he was bored, he would do the laundry that was full. I mean, the washer and dryer was just down the hall, why not? Washed the few dishes in the sink. Maybe he'll stop by the store to restock the fridge. You recognized how much of a....housewife he was being when he would retell his daily tasks to you before you two went to bed. "Oh, so I've got a little housewife now?" The neurons in his brain crackled when he heard that word escape your mouth.

Housewife

You raised your eyebrow when you watched him whisper the word underneath his breath. "You alright?" No, he wasn't. Well, he felt fantastic at the thought of his only purpose being his favorite person's provider and nothing else. But other than that, not really. He shamelessly enjoys having that title over his head. So he decides to play the part.

In the morning, he'll wake up before you, stare at your beautiful face for around 10 minutes before getting up to prepare your lunch and make you breakfast. NO, he can't cook. But he does know how to follow instructions. You wrote him some recipes you loved and he takes extra care to follow every single step to the exact measurements that you want. And when you smile at the breakfast, or make that sigh of relief, his heart jumps. Want more coffee? Do you want tea instead? He could pour you a flask of hot coffee before you go. And don't forget your lunch, either. He had fun making the panda shaped molds of rice.

And when you give your kiss goodbye and he finishes begging you to stay for a mandatory 5 minutes, he begins cleaning up the kitchen. He washes the dishes and clears the laundry if there's any. Mops the bathroom and cleans the tub, toilet bowl, and sink until they're sparkly and clean. Vacuums carpets and turns on a humidifier with your favorite scent lightly wafting throughout the place. Though he usually does this 20 minutes before you come back home so the smell is fresh in your brain when you walk in the door. He checks off the grocery list, visits a few people from his hitlist that he knows either hooked up with you in the past, broke up with you, or just tried to fuck with you in general. Sold a few organs from said people from the hitlist's bodies and goes back home to clean himself up and relax.

Relax meaning checking your location every five minutes, doing a mandatory 10 minute phone call on your lunch break to either try and persuade you to skip the rest of the work day to come back home, have phone sex(you talk him through his orgasm), or just let you talk and he'll listen. After the phone call, he'll eat his first meal of the day. He knows you don't like when he doesn't take care of himself, so he eats as much as his big heart desires. Which usually consists of your scraps of breakfast and dinner that you don't finish, so it feels like you two are bonding over the same meal(even though you aren't there). He does like eating with you and next to you, but it just feels more intimate when you two eat from the same plate. By the end of his meal, he's usually rock hard and close to tears at the fact that you won't be here to help him get off again for the next few hours.

So, he takes a cold shower(or two, if it's serious(and when I say "two" I mean he hops in, finishes, and then has to go back because it rises again with a vengeance)). And after his cold shower, he goes to the gym and does his weight resistance training. He knows you love every part of his body and his beautifully sculpted muscles(your words), so he takes good care of them. Then if he has free time, he'll watch some tv, pop up at Jujutsu Tech to piss everyone off for a few minutes, buy some sweets and desserts you two can share and then go back home to take a nap.

He wakes up about 30 minutes before you come back home so he can cook dinner. You told him you wouldn't mind having something "simple" tonight. And if he thinks carefully, this could mean anything from a boiled stew to TV dinner. Based off of your tone and how you said this sentence, he'll assume you wouldn't want something crazy to eat, so he actually buys some deli sandwiches from a shop not too far away. And when you got home, had Satoru take your coat, shoes, and jacket, you told him you were actually excited to eat. "It's been a while since we went there, huh? Oh, it's still warm!" The bread was toasted the way you liked and everything in between.

You were so lucky to have this man take care of you. You told him you loved him and if there was anything he wanted in return for his hard efforts to keep you happy, you'd do it. He shyly shook his head, a small blush overcoming his soft cheeks. He finished eating his sandwich before you and you noticed how silent he went. You softly grabbed his hand and he immediately looked up at you in question. "You alright? You're being quiet." You raise your hand from his hand to wipe a bread crumb from the corner of his mouth. "Yeah......actually, no. I just miss being able to grab your ass every second of the day, because your job doesn't allow your boyfriend into the building."

"Satoru, you know I can't take work off, I have to take care of us." Satoru flails and grabs your hand. "But babe, you know I have enough money to buy us 16 houses! You don't need to work!" You roll your eyes. "Well, I don't want to be in the house all day rotting away."

"We can rot together." "No!" He's a romantic at heart. He stands to walk off at your rejection and you grab his hand to pull him back. "Baby, you know I didn't mean it like that." "But.....you said we can't rot together...." "I know, but we can just be here right now and enjoy each other. We have all night and even some time in the morning. Right?" He sighs at your words and nod. ".........why are you hard?"

"Because you noticed I was quiet." You roll your eyes. He was also an attention seeker. How could you forget. "Really?" He nods. This time, you sigh, and you walk over to the living room couch, patting your lap. Satoru happily bounces over and plops down his weight on you. "Oof!" Sitting sideways on your lap, you caress his back with one hand and palm his hard on through his jeans with the other. His body immediately relaxes underneath your touch, and you smile up at him. "My baby has been working so hard today, hm?" He nods and stares at your hand. "I'm glad you're being productive. What did you do today, Satoru?"

"Today, I cleaned up the kitchen and did the laundry.." You unbutton his pants when he starts talking. But before you pull them down, you pause. "And what else?" He realizes what you're trying to do and swallows stressfully. He just wants you to take care of him. "And I mopped in the kitchen and the bathroom. I vacuumed, too." You pull his pants down enough to pull out his rock hard cock. It was warm and heavy in your hand, the tip straining with the blood swollen up to it. It was red and glistening with pre, threatening to drip down.

You gently wrapped your hand around him, slowly jerking him up and down, and a whimper slips out his lips. "Come on, baby, keep talking." He grabs your arm that's holding his cock and grabs at the couch with his other. "Um...I also........that's it." He cuts himself off, and his eyelids flutter shut when you put a little more pressure onto your hold, your thumb swiping over his tip.

"Hm? Are you sure?" You know he cut himself off. Which only means he's hiding something from you. He nods his head in response, and you let go of him. He whines at the cold that surrounds him now and looks at you. "Whyy???" "I don't know, baby, I think you're lying to me." You give him a look of fake concern, and your hand instead travels south to very gently fondle his sack, which immediately gets him to squirm.

"I'm not!!" You scrunch your eyebrows. "Are you??" He goes silent, and you stare him deep into his eyes. He can't reciprocate the eye contact and stares at your hand. You stop touching him, and he looks back up at you with sad, glistening puppy eyes. "I went through the list." Your eyebrows shoot up before you start scolding him. "The list??? I thought I told you to get rid of that thing? Satoru." When you first moved in with one another, you found his hit list full of people you used to talk to. He planned to kill them off one by one to have you to himself. You never truly got mad at him for it, because most of those people on the list genuinely were big pieces of shits that you wanted to burn in hell.....but technically it still wasn't okay for him to just do that behind your back.

"No, please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just-" you lightly push him off of your lap, which was basically his equivalent of being shoved off of a cliff and his heart drops when you stand up. "NO! No. Wait, baby, please. Let me make it up to you. Please don't leave me like this." He trips onto his knees but still makes record speed in crawling over to you. He grabs your closest leg and hugs it tightly. You could feel his cock(which was still out) rub against your pant leg. So dramatic, you think.

You look down at him, and he stares up at you with those stupid big blue eyes. "......" He takes your silence as his que to convince you. "I can make it better, look!" He shifts in front of you, still on his knees, and begins to unbutton and pull your pants down. You lose balance and stumble back into the dining table behind you, using it for balance as Satoru yanks down down your pants, his eyes staring at the goal.

"Satoru, what the hell are you doing?" Funny enough, your words contradict your actions, and you instinctually spread your legs farther apart for him to have more space in between. He grabs your legs and places them on top of his shoulders, and you scoot back onto the dining table for more comfort, cups and silverware clinking as you clumsily push them back.

"I can help like this." He pushes his tongue as far as he can past your lips, getting a strong first taste at your pussy. A firm and slow stripe from your hole up to your clit and you hiss, gripping onto the table. Satoru moans loudly and closes his eyes to enjoy himself as much as possible. He shifts impossibly closer to you, hugging your thighs to both sides of his face to be buried deep and makes out with your sensitive bud. You could feel him occasionally exhale his warm breath onto you before firmly flicking his tongue onto you again.

You begin whining at the waves of pleasure crashing down on you. Drool and your essence cover Satoru's chin. His cock twitches endlessly against the hardwood floor, more of his pre dripping onto it the more he gets you to moan. "Get up." His eyes snap open, and he pulls away to look up at you. Your fingers dig into his scalp, and you pull him up, earning a wince from him. He knows what you want and leans in to let you taste yourself on his tongue. In the middle of the kiss, he suddenly flinches at the feeling of your hand once again grabbing his cock. You separate the kiss and his gaze trails down to your pussy.

You took his cock head and pressed it in between your lips, rubbing it up and down against your entrance. Your eyes seemed to glisten in a way he hadn't seen in a long time and you maintained eye contact, whispering to him. "You gonna be a good boy and fuck me how I taught you?" Each word that slipped out of your lips was enough to make him insane, and he was ready to do whatever you commanded. He robotically nods and you laugh at his reaction.

You press a soft kiss to his chin, letting him spread your legs on top of the table. He softly spreads your lips and makes eye contact with your hole. Heat radiates from you and he soaks up every last bit of it. All he can see, think of, and hear is you. "Beautiful." He whispers underneath his breath. You caress his arm to snap him out of his mind and he leans down closer to you, his head now pressing to your entrance gently. "Please show me." And he takes it upon himself to shower you with the affection you deserve in hopes to satisfy you again.

Did I cook????? Cuz I feel like I wrote this way too fast.

[cutielando]

healing | r.c.

synopsis: in which Rafe learns how to navigate life with you after his father’s death

a/n: i am having terrible rafe cameron fever after watching the first half of obx4, so potentially rafe fics coming up after neglecting my man:(

my masterlist

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The loud clock on the wall in front of you was ticking loudly, each tick matching the rapid thumping of your stressed out heart.

Ever since Rafe left to sort out a business deal, ghosted you for 4 days before calling you and telling you he had been held hostage, you couldn’t seem to calm down.

Your hands were always sweating, your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest as you anxiously waited for a sign, any sign that he was coming home safe and sound.

And yet, the hours went by, and no such news ever came. You were going out of your mind, trying to occupy your time by shopping obsessively with Rafe’s card and cleaning the house for his imminent return.

It was hard on you, being kept in the dark about where Rafe was, if he was even safe or if he was going to come back home to you.

You didn’t know what to think, and the minutes upon minutes spent alone with your thoughts were not doing you any kind of favors.

On day 8 since he was gone, everything was going exactly as the previous day.

You woke up, spent a couple of minutes staring at the empty space next to you in the bed, wishing more than anything that you would close your eyes, open them up again only to see Rafe in front of you, his ocean blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

But nothing worked, so you settled for yet another day alone, praying for your boyfriend’s return.

You finally got out of bed, did the little amount of self-care that you cared enough to do in those moments, got dressed into a pair of shorts and one of Rafe’s t-shirts before reluctantly making your way downstairs to the kitchen.

Had it not been for your grumbling stomach, you probably would have spent the entire day in bed, staring at pictures of you and Rafe on your phone.

Everything in the house was quiet, only the faint sound of the TV playing up in Wheezie’s room making up for the deafening silence.

You were just in the middle of making pancakes, smiling lightly because they were Rafe’s favorites, when you heard footsteps coming to the kitchen from the front door.

You didn’t think anything of it, used to people always entering and leaving the house.

But there was something different this time, and you didn’t even realize you could feel it in your heart.

The atmosphere was tense, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as if they knew just who had walked into the house.

“Hey, doll” the voice only confirmed what your body had already figured out, making you stop dead in your tracks.

You froze, your heart beating furiously as tears started welling up in your eyes. Slowly, you managed to gather enough strength in your body to turn around, your eyes immediately landing on the one man you had been so desperate to see.

Rafe Cameron.

In the flesh, right in front of you in the kitchen of his home.

“Please tell me you’re real and I’m not hallucinating” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks, your palms almost shaking from the anticipation.

You had been waiting for this moment for an entire week, so eager to just see him with your own eyes, confirm that he was okay and nothing had happened to him.

It felt like you were dreaming, and you needed every single ounce of confirmation to say otherwise.

“It’s me, baby. It’s Rafe” he whispered, the emotions inside of him running just as high as yours.

You smiled through the tears and ran towards him, flinging yourself into his arms and almost knocking him off of his feet. He laughed in your ear, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he enjoyed the feeling of your body pressed against him, the feeling of finally being home to his best girl.

The feeling of finally being with you again.

Rafe had never before gone through so much shit in such a short period of time before. Being kidnapped, trying to find his dad only to learn that he had been killed in the jungle and somehow the Pogues were involved, not knowing if he was ever going to get the chance to see you again.

Not knowing if he was going to make it back home alive and not in a body bag.

All he could think about in those moments, all he could occupy his mind with was you. Getting home to you, feeling your calming presence around him, being able to just hold you and forget about everything else but the two of you.

The thought of coming home to you was the only thing that had kept him from losing every single ounce of hope and giving up on trying to get out of the trouble he had unintentionally found himself in.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here” you whispered into his neck, your voice breaking mid-sentence as you clung onto him like your life depended on it.

“I’m here, I’m home, baby” he shushed you, kissing everywhere that his lips could touch. 

He had missed being able to kiss you, to even touch you for an entire week, he wasn’t going to waste a single opportunity to have his hands or lips on you.

Neither of you knew how long you stood there, embracing each other like one of you was going to disappear into thin air if you let go. The only sound that could be heard in the empty kitchen was your shared breathing and the occasional whisper of reassurance from Rafe that he was really here, he was back.

Rafe didn’t even think about what had happened to him just days or hours before, he allowed himself to not think about his now deceased father and what that meant for his family. He didn’t think about anything else other than enjoying this moment with you, enjoying the peace of mind he got from simply your presence next to him.

He didn’t want to think about anything else but you and him.

But he knew he needed to face reality sooner or later, he knew he would have to tell you everything that had happened to him while he was away. He owed you that, given how worried sick you had been for him.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs and talk” he whispered at some point, making you nod but make no move to pull away from him.

He chuckled once he felt your arms only tighten around his neck, reaching down to help you jump and wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you upstairs.

Slowly, but surely, the both of you found your way to his large bedroom, sitting down on his bed close to each other, your hands intertwined tightly.

You didn’t know what to expect when Rafe said he had to tell you everything that had happened to him, but you knew he needed to get everything off his chest. Nothing ever came of him keeping everything bottled up, so you knew it was important.

But you definitely didn’t expect the story that you had heard as soon as Rafe had started talking. Each sentence shocked you more and more to the core, until the last thing that came out of his mouth were the words “I found out my father died and the Pogues are somehow involved in it”. 

The shock that ran through your body, the way your blood ran cold and your eyes welled up with tears once again, it was something you didn’t think you could ever experience or feel.

The sight of Rafe struggling so hard not to break down, but ultimately cracking under the pressure and sobbing into your arms, it made your heart break into a million pieces at the sight of the broken boy in your arms, your boy who was suffering beyond comprehension.

“They killed him and left him for dead in a ditch. Sarah just left him there without ever looking back. Who does that to their own father?” his broken voice said, slightly muffled because he had buried his face into the hem of your T-shirt.

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know” you whispered, your lips pressing kisses along his temple every now and then, the only thing you were focused on was making sure he would be okay.

You had to make sure of that.

The minutes ticked by slowly, but neither of you seemed to notice. Rafe had slowly started to calm down, his sobs now only reduced to sniffles every now and then, but he made no move to pull away from your comforting touch.

He had missed you so much, the way you seemed to understand exactly what he needed, you always knew exactly what he was feeling without even asking. He sometimes thought you knew him better than he knew himself, and it sometimes scared him.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” you asked, your voice soft as your hands continued rubbing soothing circled on the skin of his back and the back of his head.

He sighed, burying his face further into your chest, like a child begging for a mother’s love and warmth.

“Yeah, I just needed to get things off my chest” he said, making you smile sadly. 

“You can always talk to me, no matter what. About anything. I might not always know how to help, but I know how to listen” you said, making the both of you chuckle.

In that moment, even though neither of you knew what tomorrow’s day was gonna bring, you knew that you would face it together.

Just like always.

♡♡♡♡♡

18 months.

18 months have gone by since Ward had died, and since Rafe returned to you from Guadeloupe. 

18 months since Rafe had decided that he would do everything in his power to make sure his father would be proud of him. 

18 months in which he had been planning out his entire life with you, and 10 months since he had decided to make things official and propose to you. 

Rafe had decided that while he wanted to be like Ward in every aspect of his life and make him proud by becoming the man he had always wanted Rafe to become, he didn’t want to have a family like his.

He didn’t want a broken family, and he didn’t want to be a crappy husband or a dead-beat father for your kids. He wanted to be the man that you deserved to spend the rest of your life with, the man that would get to treat you like the princess that you truly were.

You had been there for him ever since he could remember, sticking with him when he knew you shouldn’t have, you believed in him when he didn’t even believe in himself. Every single time when he didn’t know what to do with himself, when he would feel like every hope for him was lost, you were there.

You were the light of his life, and he would never dream of having a life without you in it. He could never imagine being with someone else, letting another person know him on the level that you did. 

He could never live without you.

And you couldn’t live without him, either.

You hadn’t thought that your relationship with Rafe could get any better, but time seemed to want to prove you wrong. 

You couldn’t imagine your life being more perfect than it was with Rafe.

He was finally happy and free, at the top step of his company, making millions and millions of dollars, taking care of you and his family.

He was everything that you had ever dreamed of when you were a little girl. He was handsome, he was hot, he was sweet, attentive, loving, strong, independent, resilient. 

No words could ever describe the amount of love and pride you carried in your heart for Rafe. He had come such a long way from the troubled boy you once knew, having grown into the literal man of your dreams.

And yes, it maybe took his father passing away for him to finally wake up to reality and truly get his shit together, but you didn’t care.

Because you would always be with him, no matter what.

It was the two of you against the world.

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[ponderingmoonlight]

can i request geto and reader having an argument and reader coming back home drunk venting to geto about the argument they had🩷🎀

Getting back home drunk after an argument with Suguru Geto

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You always supressed the pain in your heart when your boyfriend dumps you for his best friend again. Until one day you've had enough. Until you get uncontrollably drunk to forget your fight.

Warnings: hurt to extreme comfort, language, reader being drunk lol

Hope you like what I came up with love, let me know what you think 🤍

„Hey sweetheart.“

Oh, how much you longed to hear his voice again, how long you’ve waited for him to come back. When was the last time you really saw your boyfriend? To be honest you lost count a long time ago. It shouldn’t bother you this much that he’s gone for so long. After all, Suguru is a special grade sorcerer, one of the best jujutsu sorcerers out there apart from Satoru Gojo himself. It’s only logical for him to be out on missions every free minute.

But there’s also Satoru. Satoru who’s busy himself. Satoru who steals your boyfriend every free minute. You tried to brush this ugly feeling away more than once. Are you really jealous because your boyfriend spends more time with his best friend when he’s around than with you in general?

Normally, it doesn't affect you this much. But since you haven’t spent more than 2 hours in a row with your beloved boyfriend apart from missions here and there, you can’t help but feel that violent sting in your heart when Suguru begins to pack his bag in front of your eyes.

“Are you leaving again?”

You desperately try to hunt away the petty tone in your voice, the feeling of frustration crawling up your spine.

“You know it’s been rough for Satoru these past weeks. As his best friend, I have to be there for him. We want to grab something sweet to eat-“

“You don’t even like sweets that much.”

Fuck, you hate yourself for your harsh tone, for the way your throat begins to ache in upcoming tears. Don’t lose your composure, just accept the fact that he’ll be gone today as well. But something inside you forces you to stand up, to cross your arms in front of your chest, to let your anger run free.

“But he does. What’s the problem, (y/n)? I just want to hang around with my best friend as long as I get the chance. Most of the time he’s on his own, going out on missions each and every day”, your boyfriend explains softly, his hand on its way to gently caress your head-

Until you slap his hand away.

“I’m having enough of this. When was the last time we spend time together, Suguru? You come back home when I’m asleep and leave before I wake up. I’m still your girlfriend”, you press out.

“This is the first time you ever said something about this. We’re still sleeping in the same bed every night”, he replies with low voice, making another attempt to touch you.

No. You can’t stand the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin, you can’t stand the stinging fact that he doesn’t seem to miss you the slightest. You take a big step back, blood pulsating through your veins. Why can’t he see that something is wrong in this relationship?

“Go ahead and sleep in Satoru’s bed if that’s enough then”, you bark back at him.

Suguru straightens his shoulders and crosses his very own arms in front of his chest, jaw tight.

“You know what he went through, (y/n). Do you really want me to leave him all alone over some cuddles? That’s pretty egoistic, don’t you think?”

You have to pause for a second, feel the sensation of your heart shattering onto the floor before his words truly hit you. What Satoru went through? You violently bite into the soft flesh of your cheek, desperately try to stop yourself from screaming into your boyfriend’s face. What about you, though? What about you almost getting killed because you tried to stop that man from following Suguru? What about you, caring for Suguru like no one else when Shoko healed his wounds? What about you, staying up each and every night and waiting for his return while he was out with Satoru?

What. About. You?

“You know what, Suguru?”, you mutter, teary eyes fixated onto the floor.

Never in your life did you feel this misunderstood. Doesn’t he miss you a single bit? Doesn’t he miss you lying in his arms while watching a movie, going out and grabbing something to eat? Doesn’t he miss to have you around, to hear your voice? Doesn't he understand that it's more than "some cuddles"?

You swallow hard. Because you miss him like hell. You miss those cuddles more than you ever imagined. And it fucking hurts to feel that he doesn't care.

“Fuck you.”

You can’t have it anymore. With a swift motion you turn on your heel and walk out of his room, ignore the way he shouts after you while hot tears stream down your face. There’s no way in hell you’ll stay here at Jujutsu High. No, you need distraction. And you already know who you’ll call.

“What’s up, (y/n)?”

“Shoko, get yourself ready. We’re leaving in 10 minutes.”

-at the bar-

You mindlessly draw circles into the fifth cocktail of the evening, mind clouded by guilt and alcohol.

“I told you alcohol won’t solve your problems girl”, Shoko comments dryly while sipping on her cola.

“Smoking doesn’t as well and still you’re out there smoking like a chimney”, you reply dryly before taking another sip of your drink just for demonstration.

“Fair enough. All I’m saying is you can’t run away from him.”

“Suguru? I already drank enough to forget his name”, you mutter.

"You just said his name, (y/n)..."

Truth is, you fucking miss him. What time is it? You lift up your drunk gaze, heart still clenched in sadness. Normally, you’d lay right by his side, eyeing him up and down while he’s already sound asleep.

This is not fair. You shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t fear to come back home. But you just know that you’ll get greeted by your very own empty bed. And what about the morning after? Shivers run down your spine just by the sheer thought of it. The way you just left him standing there like an idiot must have been hard to swallow for him.

Still…

You ball your hands into fists and empty your glass with one last gulp. He deserved every single word of truth that came from your mouth, he deserved all those things you’ve said.

“One more”, you mumble when the bartender arrives in your foggy view.

“No, that’s definitely enough for her. We gotta get going, (y/n)”, Shoko interrupts gently and pays for your bill while it takes all your inner will to not fall off this sky-high chair in the meantime.

The cold air of the night hits you like a wall, Shoko holding onto you with every bit of strength she has. Suddenly a wave of nausea crushes down on you, the icy air making your lungs burn uncomfortably. Damn, you just want to get home, just want to get into your bed. A glass of water…Yeah, you definitely need to drink something before you go to sleep.

But the sheer sight of Jujutsu High makes you realize that you won’t close your eyes this evening, pictures of your boyfriends’ hardened features still occupying your mind. You hate it. You hate every damn thing about the argument you’ve hard earlier, how unnecessary it was. Did he leave after you in order to see Satoru? The thought alone fills your numb veins with sheer anger again, makes you cross your arms in front of your chest just like you did earlier.

“You’re fine, aren’t you? I don’t want you to choke on your puke”, Shoko comments when you arrive at your doorstep.

Your fingers clumsily fumble for your keys until you finally grab the right one, gifting her a weak smile.

“Will get through it…Get ya ass into bed, Sh-Shoko.”

“You’ll talk things out tomorrow, okay? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

You watch after her, how she disappears into darkness with one last wave. Then she’s gone, leaves you in the dark that seems to swallow you whole. What are you supposed to do now? All those memories flooding back in, the stinging fact that you don’t know how to act towards your boyfriend in the morning. All you want to do right now is take off your clothes, sip a cup of water and cry until you eventually fall asleep.

“Yeah”, you mumble to yourself while opening the door to your dorm.

“Cryin’ sounds good.”

“Hope you had a pleasant night, (y/n).”

Your heart stops, keys falling to the ground violently. No, this can’t be true. Did that really sound like…Suguru? Your tired eyes dart towards your bed, widen in sheer shock.

There he sits, on the edge with his arms resting on his knees, staring straight through your soul while all you are able to do is standing there like the drunk idiot you are.

“You drank, didn’t you?”

“None of your business”, you bark back at him, exposing yourself with your sloppy words.

“(y/n)…”

He sighs heavy, your name sounding so exhausting coming from his lips that your throat gets tight for a second. With a swift motion he lifts himself off your bed, his silhouette only lit by the moonlight that peeks through your window.

Just when he’s about to wrap his arms around you, you take a step back and almost trip over the bag you dropped onto the floor mindlessly the day before.

“Woah, easy there.”

Of course, he catches you mid-air. Of course, you feel like pudding in his strong arms. His scent hits you with full force, that baggy shirt not being able to hide his muscular frame from your trained eye. Oh, how much you’d love to lick his six-pack, to let your hands roam over his hot back. Why are you always this horny when you drank? But when your hand almost touches his chest, you remind yourself of what happened earlier.

The argument.

“Hope you had a great time with ya best friend”, you jeer at him.

Instead of letting go of you, he pulls you even closer. His eyes are near enough to inspect the colorplay of his chocolate brown orbs. If you stretch out your hand, you can play with his hair…

Get yourself together.

“Lemme go”, you protest weakly, almost tripping over your own feet while trying to get out of his arms.

“(y/n), look at me.”

You can’t escape his command. His eyes meet yours, reflect nothing but sorrow and sadness.

“I’m sorry for what I’ve said earlier. You made me think and I guess you’re right. I’m sorry for not making enough time to see you lately. It’s just that…I’m beyond stressed from all those missions and the fact that these people rely on me while on the other side, I don’t know what I’m fighting for anymore. I feel alone, trapped, lost in my fate. I feel guilty for the fact that this girl had to die, for the things that happened to Satoru…I…I feel like I don’t deserve a girlfriend like you anymore, your cuddles, your love, your food… You sleeping next to me felt so normal and familiar that it was everything I needed, (y/n)…”

Your foggy mind can’t comprehend all those senseless words put together, but his sight…The way his eyes turn glossy makes your heart shatter all over again, makes you wrap your hands around his neck out of instinct.

“No.”

You press yourself against his much taller frame, get lost in his scent, in his hair, in him.

“Please don’t say that. You deserve all the love in the world, Suguru. None of those things are your fault and I get it. Maybe I was the one being egoistic when all I could think about was having you for myself from time to time…”

“You running away in all that anger you supressed so long made me realize how much you really mean to me. I love you, (y/n). And I was the one being selfish when I cut you short because of my own feelings. I promise to make more time for you, at least two evenings in the week, I promise-“

“Shut the hell up”, you interrupt him with a wide grin.

“I don’t understand a word ya say. But I love you too, Suguru. And I want you to promise that we’ll watch a movie tomorrow.”

He sniffs while chuckling in the most precious way, his grip around your waist tightening.

“Oh yeah, what did you think of?”

“I thought about something like…Twilight!”

“I don’t know if I’m able to promise that, (y/n)…”

“You just did! Now, I’m so damn tired, let’s jus’ go to bed…”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreoi @tachiharazsstufff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

[navybrat817]

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[aquaticmercy]

Blood Bound

Part 2 of Dark Necessities

Summary : You are blood bonded to Bucky. The problem? You don't know what a blood bond is.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x half-vampire!reader (she/her in mind)

Warnings/tags : Blood. Cursing. Sexual tension. Pleasure from a vampire bite (?). Brief mention of sex (not graphic). Violence.

Word count : 3.1k

Note : Reader is a daywalker like Blade. John Walker and Eric Brooks feature in this because I kinda tolerate John because I think he has potential to be a well-written character, and I loved the Blade comics as a kid. Enjoy!

Whatever manifested between you and Bucky after the feeding only grew stronger in the days that followed. 

It wasn’t just the bite, nor was it just the intoxicating power of his super-soldier blood; it was something more— it has to be. It was something that you could not identify yet— it was as if it unlocked something dormant.

You didn’t understand it. The only bond you knew of was the familiar bond— and that required Bucky drinking your blood, not the other way around.

You knew you should’ve read up more on the history of vampirism. Granted, your lack of knowledge at this point wasn’t entirely your fault— you hadn’t lived very long, at least not by vampire standards. You haven’t even lived through a human lifetime yet.

You had barely scratched the surface of the supernatural experience. Eric Brooks had told you to read thousands of ancient inscriptions, and you were even a quarter way there yet. 

Besides, maybe you were just overthinking it. Maybe this was just what it felt to feed on an enhanced being.

Of course, you had fed on people before Eric— Blade— found you. He had seen you as a feral teenage daywalker, reckless but full of potential. It had been different then. Human blood was good but not great, it just gave you sustenance. You’d always imagine you had to get used to blood the same way high school kids learned to like beer.

When Eric took you in, he gave you shelter. He gave you a home and proper training. He gave you bags of serum monthly— ones he developed as a blood replacement. He gave you scrolls to study, books to read.

He told you to never ever consume human blood, even if it means you would never be satisfied.

Well, you broke that rule.

It had been weeks now since you first fed on Bucky’s blood, and now you could feel him like a second pulse.

It started with small things. So small that it went unnoticed at first. You’d reach for a glass of water, only to have him pass it to you before you even realized you were thirsty. He’d appear beside you on missions, his arms raised to protect you the second you sensed an incoming attack. And his injuries—those bruises and cuts you’d tend to— left ghostly aches on your skin.

After the feeding, both your powers became something else entirely. 

Your already sharp reflexes were sharper, your speed more supernatural that it should be. Bucky noticed it too—he moved with more than super soldier agility, leaping over gates as if they weren’t there, dodging bullets with uncanny ease. 

It wasn’t just that. Your emotions flowed into each other in unexpected surges. 

When Bucky felt anger, a hot, restless fury built within you, too. When your mind was clouded by doubt or fear, he’d tense up beside you.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you both stumbled back to your shared apartment. His shirt was ripped, exposing the bruises mottling his chest. He tried to ignore it, but he knew you felt it, too. 

“I need you,” he murmured, voice steady, almost begging. 

“Bucky, we can’t keep doing this,” You swallowed. “What if you get hurt?”

“I won’t,” he growled, fingers brushing over your cheek, voice thick with longing. “Don’t you feel it? I’m stronger, faster— I’m healing quicker than I ever have before. Whatever this is, it’s changing both of us.”

The words hung in the air. You’d felt it too, that surge of power, that electric hum that vibrated through your bones.

“What is this?” you whispered, not expecting an answer. “What is it doing to us?”

“Let’s find out,” he said, his voice a dark, thrilling promise as he leaned in, the heat of his breath grazing your skin.

You hesitated, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. “Maybe we should ask Eric. He’s dealt with this daywalker thing longer—he might understand—”

There was a glint of frustration in his gaze. “And have him tell you to stop feeding off me? To go back to starving, until you waste away?” His hand cupped your face, pulling you closer. “His serum isn’t working anymore. Cow blood isn’t working. You need this. And I’m not about to let you go through hell to satisfy someone else’s rules.”

You felt your guard slipping, his words and the heat in his eyes breaking down your last defences. He was offering himself to fill the void inside you. And you couldn’t deny him any longer.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you onto his lap.

Slowly, you let your fangs graze his skin, a soft, tantalizing scrape that drew a low groan from his throat. His hands tightened around you. With a gentle press, you sank your fangs in.

The first taste of his blood hit you like a shockwave, the way it did the first time. He flooded your senses in a dizzying head rush. He tasted so intoxicating that it left you gasping.

You felt his pulse in your mouth, steady and strong.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”

His words were a spark to the fire inside you. His blood was like a drug. You couldn’t talk where you ended and he began.

His hands roamed over your back, fingers tracing every curve, pressing you closer as if he couldn’t bear any distance between you. The way he held you, the way he breathed your name—it was like he was offering every part of himself to you

When you finally pulled back, Bucky’s eyes were heavy-lidded. He reached up, brushing his thumb over your lips, smearing the faint trace of his own blood as he gazed at you, his hazy eyes a mixture of wonder and desire.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, his voice a low growl.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to the mark you’d left, your tongue flicking over the wound as he shivered. You could feel his pulse slowing, his heartbeat returning to a steady rhythm as the euphoria settled over him. He looked almost dazed, a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips as he gazed up at you.

“You really think Eric would understand?” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with a dark humour.

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “He wouldn’t,” you savoured the warmth beneath your hands. “And I don’t care. This… this is ours.”

He let out a low, satisfied hum, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles that sent a shiver up your spine. 

The feeding continued, more frequently, and you both realised the connection you felt went beyond survival in battle.

The first time you felt each other’s pleasure in bed, it hit you both like a wave, powerful and dizzying, sweeping through you so intensely that you weren’t sure where your body ended and his began. His pleasure sparked in your core, racing along your nerves like electricity, feeding back into him, and then doubling again within you. The feeling grew in an endless loop.

Every gasp, every moan became a shared experience, each sensation reverberating between you in dizzying echoes. His touch, as he moved within you, left you quivering; his breath against your neck seemed to burn, intensifying every rush of desire until you could barely breathe.

It was all-consuming.

And then, once, you’d fed from him in the midst of it, your lips against his neck as his pulse thundered beneath your mouth. The second your teeth broke skin, a flood of his essence surged through you, a rush so potent, so intoxicating, you nearly lost yourself in it. 

It was more than pleasure; it was pure, unfathomable ecstasy, a high that pulled both of you into an untethered oblivion.

Afterward, both of you lay tangled together, limbs intertwined. It was as though pieces of yourselves had fused. It was the most intense connection you’d ever felt, something neither of you could put into words. Even if you could, it would never do it justice. 

In the silences you shared, you knew that no other pleasure could ever compare to what you shared.

—

The mist hung thick around the old Hydra outpost, cloaking it in a damp chill that seeped into your skin, even with your heightened senses. The place reeked of decay and rot. A vampire nest thrived in the old base— newly turned vampires hiding from the world, growing stronger, more feral with each night that passed.

They killed people. They turned people.

You, Bucky, Eric Brooks, and John Walker were there to wipe them out before they could spread their sickness further.

Eric took point, his silhouette sharp in the mist as he motioned for you and Bucky to fan out around him.

“Close ranks.” His voice was barely a whisper. “No one goes in solo."

You nodded, knowing better than to push against his authority. 

John, off to the side, gave Bucky a wry look. "Better keep up, Barnes.”

You could smell the faintest whiff of fear from John—though he’d never admit it. 

You moved forward, sinking deeper into the ruins, stopped by cracked concrete walls that loomed like tombstones.

Your eyes met Bucky’s. 

As you scaled the wall together, Bucky’s fingers brushing the concrete just behind yours.

John huffed below, struggling to keep up. His irritation crackled in the air as he muttered, “I thought we were both supersoldiers.”

“You’re getting slow, Walker,” Bucky said, his voice a low rasp, though he didn’t look down.

Once at the top, you peered down into the yard below. The stench hit you—stale human blood, mould, the faint copper tang of vampire blood. You all dropped down with a quiet thud, though John was louder than you’d like him to be. 

“Left flank,” Eric instructed, motioning toward the entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded, gripping the hilt of your knife, feeling its hunger.

Bucky moved beside you, ready, his presence as familiar as your own heartbeat. John and Eric fanned out to the right, slipping into the murky depths of the compound with grim determination.

The first vampire appeared just as you and Bucky reached the door, its eyes blazing red in the dim light. It had time to hiss, but not to scream. You launched yourself at it, your knife slicing through. 

A second figure lunged at Bucky, but before it could touch him, you were there, your blade found the vampire’s heart.

Bucky grinned, a wild, reckless glimmer in his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You shrugged wordlessly, almost casually.

Inside the base, the halls were narrow and cold, every corner shrouded in shadows. Bloodstains smeared the walls, and the smell of decay lingered thickly in the air. You moved quickly, every step calculated, every breath measured. The vampires were emerging in hoards now, drawn by the scent of fresh blood and the thrill of a fight. They came at you in waves—fangs bared, claws extended, feral eyes blazing.

One raked its nails across your shoulder, tearing into muscle. You winced, and Bucky’s eyes snapped to you, feeling the sharp pain sear through him, too. He yanked it off, his fist connecting with its jaw with a brutal crack. You pivoted, driving your knife through its chest, twisting until you felt the resistance give way.

John staggered past, panting as he took down a vampire, his face slick with sweat. He cast a sidelong glance at you and Bucky, frustration etched deep into his scowl. “How are you both running circles around us?”

“Stay focused, Walker,” Eric barked, but you could tell he’d heard John. He’d noticed how your movements mirrored Bucky’s, how you flinched when he did, even how you were breathing in time with each other. Eric’s gaze lingered too long, as if he was convincing himself something he didn’t want to believe.

“You’ve been off the blood serum for a while,” Blade murmured suddenly, his voice low and directed at you. “What have you been feeding on, kid?”

“Animal blood” you said quietly, keeping your gaze neutral, slashing down another vampire with ease.

Eric’s knuckle tightened, and you knew he didn’t believe you. He’d taught you everything you knew, raised you like a sister. And here you were, deceiving him with half-truths.

Before he could respond, another wave of vampires rushed you from the darkness, cutting the conversation short. 

Blade fought beside you, taking in every detail of the fight, every flinch, every glance you shared with Bucky.

“If you’re feeding on something else, you need to tell me.” He stepped closer, beheading a bloodsucker without even looking at it. “Now.”

You wanted to tell him, to explain the connection you shared with Bucky, and asked if he knew what the hell was going on, but the words caught in your throat. 

The fear of his disapproval held you back. He had warned you so many times against crossing that line, of giving into the hunger that all vampires struggled to control. And yet… Bucky had been different. 

You shoved Eric back, drawing his attention to the fight. “Save it for later,” you said, your voice clipped. “We’ve got company.”

You turned, facing down the horde with Bucky at your side, the two of you tearing through the vampires with an intensity that bordered on frenzy. Each kill was swift— brutal. Your knife left trails of gore in your wake, while Bucky’s fists shattered skulls with merciless precision.

At one point, you felt the burn of a blade slicing across your forearm, a deep, ragged cut that sent a surge of pain up your arm. But before you could react, Bucky flinched beside you, clutching his own arm as if he’d been wounded too. 

His gaze shifted back and forth between you and him. He moved in close, his voice barely a whisper as he muttered, “This isn’t normal.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what was happening.

The final vampire fell, its scream echoing down the blood-stained halls. The four of you stood in the aftermath, panting, bruised, and blood-soaked. The air was thick with the scent of the undead.

Eric’s gaze shifted to Bucky. “This shouldn’t be possible,” he muttered, almost to himself. “A blood bonded daywalker…”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You didn’t know what a blood bond was, never even heard of it. But the way Eric said it made your heart skip a beat.

Eric’s gaze softened for a brief moment, a shadow of pity flickering across his face. “If this is what I think it is…”

Eric didn’t press any further, but as you moved toward the exit, his words lingered in your mind, haunting and unshakeable. Whatever had happened between you and Bucky, you didn’t know.

And maybe, deep down, you didn’t want to.

—

As the four of you trudged out of the Hydra base, John caught up next to Bucky with a skeptical glance. His breath hung in clouds around them in the night air, but he ignored the cold, eyes narrowed on Bucky’s calm, steady pace.

"Alright, Barnes," he muttered, keeping his voice low so you and Eric wouldn’t hear. "You gonna tell me what the hell’s going on? Did you get a new serum or something?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play dumb,” John snapped, frustration creeping into his tone. “I’m not blind. You’re faster. Stronger. You and..." He glanced in your direction before lowering his voice even more. "You both are."

Bucky shrugged, “Guess I’ve been working out,” he replied coolly, brushing John off with the kind of indifference that only seemed to make him angrier.

“That’s not funny.” John’s frustration was barely concealed.

For a moment, Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you, watching as you spoke quietly with Eric up ahead. 

“I told you, Walker,” he brushed off, “maybe you’re just getting slow.

—

The safe house was dark and quiet, a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. 

You barely had time to breathe before Bucky’s hand wrapped around your arm. He guided you into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Bucky’s lifted you to sit on the edge of the sink, his eyes taking in the blood on your shoulder, concern flickering across his face. 

The cut wasn’t closing as quickly as he’d like it to, your shoulder throbbing faintly— so did his. 

“Let me see it,” he said, voice low but intense, as he reached for the hem of your shirt. You started to protest, but he was insistently stubborn.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, but even you could hear the strain in your voice. 

Without another word, he took off your tactical gear, the cool air brushing over the cut on your back. His eyes darted over the wound. 

Then, without hesitation, he pulled off his own shirt. “You know it’ll help you heal faster,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours before he tilted his head, offering his neck to you.

Your lips met his, almost desperate. You were satisfying a hunger as he pulled you closer, his hand tangling in your hair, your nails grazing his skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Then, slowly, you angled his neck.

You could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, as you pressed soft, lingering kisses on his skin. 

Finally, you bit down.

A euphoric thrill coursed through you as his blood flowed into your mouth, filling you with a euphoric sensation that spread through every nerve, igniting something primal within both of you.

Bucky’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. His breaths came faster as he tilted his head back, a low, almost pleading sound escaping him. Each swallow of his blood was a pleasure so vast it felt spiritual. His fingers tangled in your hair, nails digging into your skin.

The moment was so intense that neither of you heard the door creak open.

“What the fuck…” John’s voice was harsh and full of shock.

You jerked back, catching John’s wide eyes. He took in the scene— your mouth still stained with Bucky’s blood, his arm around your waist. His confusion morphed into anger. “Are you… drinking his blood?”

Eric was right behind him, his rage thunderous. For a moment, he looked between you and Bucky, piecing it together with a calm that was worse than John’s horror. 

“This is what you call animal blood,” Eric said in a quiet accusation.

You glanced at Bucky, whose face had gone rigid. He didn’t pull away from you, his hand still resting protectively on your waist.

“I… I can explain,” you started, but even you weren’t sure what to say.

Eric’s gaze shifted from you to Bucky, a flicker of recognition in his eyes that turned grim. He muttered under his breath, “do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

-to be continued(?)

shall I make a part 3 or turn it into a series?

[lovifie]

Back Home

To my lovely anon 🙊.

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x SisterFriend!Reader

Fluff | Smut | 2761 words | Back to Masterlist

When Johnny finally comes back home, only to find his sister's best friend living in his house.

Soap got injured on the last mission. A bullet too close, well, not close, through. And not a bullet, a knife to the shoulder which left him in a sling. And now he needed almost absolute rest for a month until he was re-evaluated to see how it was healing.

It was Price's idea to go back home, it's been years since he saw his family and when Price mentioned it, guilt started to pool in his stomach.

So he took the first plane home and flew back. Reaching land in the middle of the night, he picked up a cab and went home. The humidity and coldness of his beloved Scotland made his shoulder hurt more; he couldn't wait to get home. 

Once there, he picked up the key from under the mat that he so often told his mum to put away and entered the house. Making a beeline to his room, silent so as to not wake up anyone. And as soon as he took off his shoes, he threw himself into his bed. And the bed talked back.

“Bitch, I told you to go to your bed, I don't want a fucking sleepover.” A girl's voice erupted from under the cover, a hand pushing him off the bed. Well, he stood up, there is no way you would move him with just a hand while half asleep.

“Excuse me?” Soap asks, more offended than surprised he was pushed off his bed. The man's voice woke you up fast, whipping your head around at it and turning on the bedside lamp to see anything in the dark. 

It only takes you a second to recognise your best friend’s brother, the mohawk recognisable everywhere. “Johnny?” You asked.

He asked your name back just as surprised. “What are you doing here?” He asks

“It's… it's a long story actually, I-I’ll go to your sister's room.” You say standing up, leaving his bed for him. “What happened to your shoulder?”

He peels his eyes away from you, suddenly remembering the one thing outside of his family that he always thought about. 

His sister is just a couple of years younger than him, and they always went to the same school, and later on, high school. His sister and you met in kindergarten, and ever since you were joined by the hip. Monkey 1 and Monkey 2, his mother would joke about how she didn't know she birthed twins. 

When the three of you were younger, you were just another annoying brat like his little sister. But once he reached puberty, he started to look at you differently. You were still an annoying brat, but he started to like the way you annoyed him. 

Johnny loved to be in his room, but whenever he knew you were coming he would insist on being in the living room; even if it was just to catch a glimpse as you walked up to your sister's room. 

The thing he hated the most about you? Your boyfriend. The fucking stupid boyfriend that couldn't see how amazing you were, the fucking stupid boyfriend that you cried about so much, the fucking stupid boyfriend that he would fight with so much. 

The last thing he knew about him before he enlisted, was that he had proposed to you and that you had said yes. 

But know, until just a moment ago, you were sleeping on his bed, with an old sweatshirt of his on. He was smiling to himself, the “long story” suddenly short when he connected the dots. 

He wanted to tell you to stay and sleep with him. But he was exhausted and cold, and his shoulder only hurt more and more. And if you hit it on your sleep, he wouldn't forgive you, no matter how much you were the love of his life. 

You were still looking at him, waiting for his answer. Even pointing at his shoulder so he would remember. “Oh.” He said looking at his shoulder. “It's classified.”

You rolled your eyes at his answer and started to walk out of the room; and just when you were almost out you turned to look at him.

“I'm glad you are back, Johnny.”

And in that moment, he knew he had a chance.

The next morning he woke up incredibly late in comparison with his usual time to wake up. But to the rest of the mortals, it was still early. In fact, only his mom was awake when he walked into the kitchen. 

Giving her a warm hug that the both of them so desperately needed after being away for so long. With a cup of coffee in between, they talked on the kitchen table until his sister woke up as well and after you told her he was back she flew downstairs hugging his brother in a crushing hug. 

You went downstairs too after stretching out and when you saw the image you remained at the doorway, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 

“Say hi to Johnny, you cunt.” Your best friend lovely said. 

“I already did last night.” You say, before thinking of the double meaning. Johnny catches immediately, a mischievous grin on his face. He wishes you had welcomed him that way. “I thought it was you, crying about wanting to sleep together again.” 

“Whatever, who came to my bed last night at the end?” She answers, smiling proudly. 

You scoff at her. “Well, I'm sorry that I let the wounded soldier that came home after three years to sleep on HIS bed.” You say chuckling, you turn to him. “You are allowed to make arrests, right? According to your sister, seems this is my fate.”

You put your hands together, extending them before you for him to put handcuffs around your wrists. He'll put them soon, he still needs to choose if he wants to tie you to the bed or to him. 

His sister slaps your arm, calling you dramatic, before working on making breakfast with your help. Something about the way you fit in just right with the people he loves the most, still wearing his sweatshirt truly warms him inside. 

“So… how's Adam?” Johnny asks, he needs to know if the coast is clear. But the way both his mom and sister look at him the moment he talks makes it regretted. And the way the knife you were using falls from your hand on the counter, lets him know everything he needs.

“He's fine.” You answer quietly, and Johnny can almost see the walls building around you. Shit, shit, shit. 

You wipe your hands on the tablecloth, turning around. “I think we are out of milk, I'll go buy some.” You say, walking out of the kitchen. Johnny is quick on his feet walking behind you. “I'll go with you.” 

You look up to him as you tie your shoes, nodding without saying anything more. He puts his boots on as well, trying to tie the laces with just a hand. “Let me do it.” You say, no room to argue and you tie his boots quickly. 

Once on the street, you walk next to each other. The shop is not far, but you walk slowly. Johnny knows you want to talk but he doesn't push it. Leaving you to choose the moment. “I actually don't know how he is doing.” You admit, looking at him. “Adam, I mean. I haven't heard from him since the wedding.”

“You got married?” Johnny asks, frankly surprised. He didn't get the invite.

“No. Thank god, I didn't.” You answer quickly, disgust clear on your face. “Almost, but I didn't.”

“What happened?” 

“He cheated. With one of my bridesmaid, during the rehearsal dinner.” You laugh, but without a bit of humour on it. “I was talking with his mom about what we would name the first grandkid, and he was getting another girl pregnant in the bathroom.”

As you talk, your voice breaks, tears flooding your eyes as you cover your face.

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” He motions, hugging you with his nice arm. Good thing he wasn't invited, or else you'll know perfectly fine where the asshole was. Buried six feet under.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” You say, but still burying your face on his chest. “I should get over it, I know. It's been months now, but…”

“No apologies, bonnie. That's a perfectly acceptable reaction.” He says, cupping your face to look at your face. Fuck, are breathtakingly stunning when crying. “Fuck him, all right? You were always too good for him anyway.”

He knows he is exposing himself like this, and that it is obviously not fair to you. But his eyes land on your parted lips, and fuck does he wants to bite. Something must click inside your head, because you suddenly turn around, walking again and wiping the tears from your face. 

“Yeah, you are right, Johnny. Fuck him.” You say, smiling at him but sadness is still in your eyes.

It isn't until a couple of days later that he doesn't get to talk to you alone again. He is lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone before going to sleep. A knock on his door disrupts him.

“C’mon in.” He says, looking at the door waiting to see who is it. Happiness floods his senses when he sees it's you.

“Are you busy?” You ask, only your head poking in. Soap quickly shakes his head, patting the bed next to him. You walk inside the room and sit cross-legged next to him. “Is it okay if I sleep here tonight? Your sister is beating me up on his sleep. At least I hope she's asleep.” 

He simply peels the covers back, letting you get inside. He lets his phone on the bedside table, focusing only on you, and lays on his side, grateful the wounded shoulder in on the left side. 

“How's your shoulder?” You ask, grabbing a finger from the hand resting on his chest.

“It's better, glad it's not my right one. I wouldn't be able to do anything.” He says

You smile at him, your hand moving to play with the name tags on his chest. “Do you know that Adam was deadly jealous of you?”

“What? He had you, what could I have to make him jealous?” He asks, not even realising his declaration of love.

“My attention.” You answer, looking at his face. “He always said that he didn't know why I was marrying him if it was clear I was in love with you.” 

He looks at your face, catching you looking at his lips. “Were you?”

“Hm?”

“In love with me, were you?”

“To the bone.”

And that's all he needs before he's crushing his lips on yours. He hates he can't move his arm, needing to push you closer. But lucky for him, you do it yourself. Moving your arms around his neck, getting as close as you can.

He rolls, moving you along to lay on top of him, finally moving the arm he was propping himself on to pull you closer. Butterflies on his stomach going nuts at his lifelong crush kissing him, taking the breath from his lungs.

You straddle his hips, leaning down to keep kissing him as his hand finds its way to the back of your head. “I love you, bonnie. I have loved you for years.” He whispers against your lips, making you whimper. 

“Show it to me, Johnny. Show me how much.” You whisper against his lips, moaning when he grinds his hips around your clothed cunt.

His hand pulls his sweatshirt off of you, you help him take it off, and it leaves you bare from hips up. He groans at the sight, his hand moving to your arse to push you forward so he can kiss your boob. 

You sit at his chest, his hand getting under your pants and underwear, him grunting when he feels your wetness on his fingertips. You arch your back when his finger easily slips inside because of how slick your entrance is, him moaning around your chest; sucking and licking at your nipple making you moan. 

“Johnny.” You moan, him shushing you quickly.

“I ken, bonnie. But I need to get this tight pussy ready, right? Make you feel good.” He moans when he feels your hand palm his crotch. “Fuck, press it harder, love.”

A second finger enters your cunt, stretching you as he scissors them. You pull his pants and underwear down, enough for his dick to spring free. You marvel your eyes on the thick, veiny, heavy piece of meat between his legs, wondering about the taste of the oozing precum from his tip; a sharp pain on your nipple pulling you away when Soap bites down. 

“Don't even think about it, bonnie. Not today.” He says, his fingers pulling out of you and tugging the pants down. “Take them off, love. And lay on your side.”

You quickly do as he says, hating that you need to stand away from him to do it. You lay next to him, his eyes glued on your body. He grunts, managing to keep his arm under you, pulling you against him. 

This one is officially his most hated injury up to date, needing to push you closer. He latches at your neck, tasting, sucking and biting your skin. Wanting more, needing more. 

“You need a hand, Johnny?” You ask, heavy breathing when you feel his hard dick probe around your pussy but not being able to enter you without a hand around it.

Johnny chuckles in your ear. “Bonnie, I'll rip my arm off to do it if you don't help me right now.”

You laugh back at him, lowering a hand between your legs parting them and fisting his dick making him moan as you align it with your entrance.

Your laugh turns into a moan when he slowly starts to sink in. When he finally bottoms out, he stays still for a minute, hugging you, pulling you close. You turn your head back and kiss him deeply, he starts to move his hips, catching with his mouth every moan that slips from yours. 

It is such a chaotic situation, one of his arms is trapped inside of the sling, the other is trapped under your body, he is still wearing all his clothes, and you are having sex on his childhood bedroom with his mom and sister just on the other side of the hall. 

Still, it's the best sex of your life. His dick is stretching you as no other dick has ever, he is reaching places inside of you that have never been touched before and that now will need to be touched forever, he keeps kissing you like you were an oxygen tank in the depths of the ocean and you wish you would stay like this forever. 

But with the way his hips are thrusting into you and the hand under your body finds its way to your clit, you know there is not much left.

“I love you, bonnie. I fucking love you so much.” He says between moans. “I'm gonna marry you and I'm gonna love you forever. Gonna make a family with you, bonnie. I love you, I can't wait to fucking marry you. Marry me, please, bonnie.”

“Yes, fuck” you moan back, nails sinking into the skin of his ass when you grab him urging him to fuck you harder. 

Johnny thinks is the longest couple of minutes until you finally cum, wanting to hold on just to feel you clench around him; milking him dry when you do with his name in your mouth. 

The two of you stay panting, still in each other embrace. Johnny's dick still softening inside of you with no urge to get it out. 

“Did you mean it?” You ask him.

“Did you?” He asks back, suddenly too aware of what he just said.

“I meant it if you did.” You say childishly, turning your head around.

“I did.” He says, looking at your eyes. “We should probably date before getting married, right?”

“Maybe not.” You say, still looking at his eyes.

You stay looking at each other eyes, looking for any kind of doubt in them. You speak first; “The courthouse opens at 9.”

“We can have breakfast after.” He says, as if that's the correct answer.

“I'd love to have breakfast with you tomorrow, Johnny.” You answer, because to you it is the right answer. 

[methoughtsphantom]

halfas are the found family trope foster child

they all adopt each other. it’s the reason Vlad wanted so badly to have Danny as his son and the reason Danny immediately went with sure you’re my cousin now with Dani. it’s a survival mechanism from being so very few of their species. Sooo, halfa!Jason except he sorta isn’t yet cause Jason’s core is extremely ruptured from the lack of ectoplasm involved in his forceful resurrection. So when Danny finds Jason in his catatonic state he can’t quite tell the dude’s been dead and remains some, just that the guy for some reason seems very friend-shaped. Danny doesn’t mind his friend is braindead, and is also a john doe, he gives familiar vibes and that’s apparently enough for Danny to constantly find himself in the hospital doing his engineering homework on the room with the guy, and talking for hours about the updates on the absolute clusterfuck of the city and how he was from a freaking ghost town and he can almost even draw comparisons. he blabbers about how he’s not homesick enough times to even corner himself to talk about a ghost lore many times and how he’s just finding himself a little more prone to violence and in constant pain since none of the people he has adopted as his family are here with him and he can’t consider a place a lair if there’s isn’t someone of his in it.

But Danny could never drag someone with him just because of some it, after all it was Danny’s choice to come to Gotham to collage and not stay where at least his parents (good parents Jack and Maddie) were in Amity.

Ironically, Danny essentially can’t feel that his core has been spoon feeding ectoplasm to Jason. As months go on, the little ball of energy builds in anticipation practically vibrating in the waiting pulse of something (Danny doesn’t know but more often than not has he found himself laughing in happy confusion. it weirds him out in a good way) It’s really that he’s feeling the slow healing process of his friend (brother brother brother) ‘s core.Imagine it’s just about to properly, correctly heal when canon strikes back and Jason gets snatched by League assassins. Danny is left feeling like his core got torned out. His core had spend months helping another’s only to feel the other’s imprint and to not be able to protect it in return is— forget it being an obsession; thats like having your newborn baby being ripped out of your arms. An all assuaging feeling of helplessness that is devastating. Danny just beginning to feel like home lair when out of nowhere the rug is swept under him. Danny suddenly struggling to not flunk all his classes and beat every single liminal that he can feel crossing paths with him to the ground. Danny suddenly having his chronic pain (that hadn’t been so bad lately) dialed up to the point that there are just bearable and bad days.

The worse thing is he doesn’t know why.

Jason had only been a guy.

…

It’s only a three weeks before Jazz tells him she accepted a job offer in Gotham.

(and the guilt only makes him feel worse when he can feel himself feel better because of it)

…

now

whimsical time skip ✨

Danny is now on his feet again and friends with a Wayne of your choice (or maybe they were friends a little before Jay dissapeared and it was badTM cause Waynes? liminal 🥲) Danny definitely didn’t enjoy snapping off to his friend like that. anyways it’s been a year since that and he and his friend are having a grand time playing civvies, uhh let’s say dick because I want them to meet while ice skating, Also Dick because he definitely turns a blind eye when Danny goes airborne for a second there yep. He’s just having too much fun.

anyways as alwaysTM Danny doesn’t clock celebrities and like why would he, Dick is just the random guy who’s was fast to turn Danny’s slow day in the ice ring into a competition one day and brighten when Danny matched up his puns. So he totally doesn’t get why the guy’s so gloomy one day, anyways as you can figure, it’s Jason’s deathday and Dick is a deprecating bean, Danny tries to cheer him up by having him remember his brother instead and Dick attempts to, but even skipping through some photos in his phone make his eyes burn.

It is because of that that he doesn’t notice Danny absolutely freeze up at the photo of his friend Jay (Jay because he’s a John Doe, but that’s just too impersonal and so the first letter is J *wink wink*)

Danny absolutely doesn’t know what to do with this information, barely catches himself from asking Dick how did his brother die. Most importantly when because Danny just saw Jay—Jason less than a year ago, and this somehow doesn’t feel too recent.

Annd that how we find Danny digging into the Wayne second son tragedy. Staring at the date of death while the knowledge that they met almost six months after burns his forefront of his mind. Danny spends a day going over all the questions running through his mind over how the fuck he couldn’t sense Jay was a ghost—err was… in past tense?? what the fuck?? Danny would really like a refund on his ghost sense.

Anyways Danny goes check out the grave (now that he knows there is one) and boom although intangible he somehow triggers those shitty ass sensors/alarms that somehow didn’t go off when jason was literally digging himself out.

Obviously the bats get in the case immediately. And boy are they absolutely enraged that someone would steal Jason’s body.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Someone You Loved

I'm a mess since I finished Xavier's myth and my period came early so now I'm just sad and can't focus on anything else. Headcanons for the men when MC breaks up with them. Warnings: None, but lots of angst because everything SUCKS. Love and Deepspace. Hmph. More like Love and Deep Depression.

In the darkness, Zayne wakes suddenly, his hands instinctively reaching out to pull you to him; only for his grasp to curl into cold sheets and emptiness.

How long had it been? Since he’d slept peacefully? The nightmares never seemed to plague him when you were asleep beside him in his bed, your breath softly ghosting the crook of his neck. He glances up at the ceiling trying to calm his breath. The little dreamcatcher you’d hung so long ago sways slightly and his heart clenches. The bed felt too big for just him. Before meeting you he slept in the middle; now he can’t bring himself to take back your half, leaving it empty, remembering the way your curled form occupied it.

The only time he saw you was when you came in for your checkup. And you seemed fine, which was good, but a part of him is haunted by the possibility that maybe something about him had made you leave him. You had insisted it wasn’t but he can’t help but run scenarios over and over in mind, swirling like a mess of ink in water.

Perhaps his reticent nature had finally driven you away. Or his sarcasm. Or maybe the scars on his hands. Women didn’t like scarred men, did they? He’d wondered about that for too long before Greyson, catching him staring at his hands, said, “Your hands are healing Dr. Zayne. Why do you look at them so doubtfully?”

After those words had been spoken, Zayne had thrown himself into his work. He’d always been a workaholic of course, but it had amplified to a point where he couldn’t go home. It was on purpose. He slept in his office until his superior had caught him, insisting he can’t sleep here.

No one was checking in on him. No one to remind him to take a break or to coax him into taking a nap in between patients. No one waking him up with a smile and a slice of cake that they’d picked up on their way to his place.

The nightmares started after he tried sleeping at home. He hates himself for feeling like a little boy, unable to sleep without a security blanket. But he needed you. The way all living things needed air and sunlight to thrive, he needed you in such a poignant way that it almost stops his blood knowing you’re not in his life anymore.

He knows he needs to sleep. Silently, because that’s what he’d grown accustomed to, silently rolling out to bed so as to not disturb you, he pads over to his closet and pulls out a t-shirt, far too small to be one of his own.

The t-shirt had somehow survived the purge, the day you’d taken all your stuff out of his apartment. It was strange to look at his apartment now because all he sees are the empty spaces you left behind. The spots on the windowsill where your little planters used to be. The blank space on the nightstand on your side of the bed where your phone, earbuds, and hand lotion used to once sit. The cup in the bathroom now holds only one toothbrush.

He brings the t-shirt to his nose and instantly your scent fills his being. He’s thankful he didn’t return it to you as he’d initially planned. The piece of fabric that retained the wonderful smell of your shampoo and the fresh scent of your skin. It calmed him. Cradling it against his cheek, he makes his way back to the bed, laying the t-shirt on his pillow and burying his nose into it as he tries to find a comfortable position.

The t-shirt works its magic, eventually lulling him into a dreamless sleep. The only peace he’s ever known was when he was with you.

It was hard to avoid Xavier no matter where you went. His being your upstairs neighbor and your mission partner made it impossible not to see him. His chest ached whenever he saw you but he masked it with a smile. He never stopped looking out for you. Because he had promised, hadn’t he? So many centuries ago, in a different lifetime, that he’d always be there for you no matter what?

The day of the breakup is always a blur to him. He can’t recall any of the details, but he remembers your face with clarity, remembers the pained expression in your eyes. He had soothingly embraced you, encouraging you to talk to him about what was bothering you, because even his deepest worries never fathomed the idea of you leaving him.

Xavier had frozen when you had tearfully whispered that you wanted to break up. Surely he had misheard you? But no, he hadn’t. You had tried, in vain, to get him to explain where he disappeared to. It bothered you when Xavier disappeared and it didn’t matter if he came back each time. You told him you wanted the truth, and nothing less than that would convince you to stay. Xavier had faltered; he knew he owed it to you, but he didn’t know where to begin.

Philos was a distant dream, probably lost to time and deepspace but he couldn’t help it. The possibility of returning to his own timeline weighed down on him, a heavy burden of duty. If it had been just him, he would have gladly given up months ago, content to stay here with you. But the crew that had accompanied him, dedicated to his cause, stuck here because of his decisions deserved the chance, and he couldn’t give up on them.

Knowing he would never be able to explain without hurting you, he had given you a sad smile, his blue eyes growing misty as he tried to put conviction into his words. “I hope you find someone more worthy.” The feeling of your hands leaving his felt like a rift had divided his heart into two, a chasm separating you both. You left his apartment, and he spent the night on his balcony, listening to your sobs carrying through the air, not knowing how he could take away your pain. 

With much trial and error, Xavier now had a cordial relationship with you. He accompanied you whenever you asked. He still hung out with you at the arcade and came out for hot pot whenever you asked. Because hadn’t he promised to love you even when you weren’t his?

Xavier watches you talking to Tara and when you finally catch his eye, you give him a smile and wave, which he returns. Although he wishes you weren’t broken up, it always brings him relief to see you smiling. He had felt the satisfaction of watching you become a happier person, seeing you grow and eventually finding joy around you. And that would have to be enough. 

He would settle for having you in his life any way he could, even if you decided you didn’t love him. Because after losing you twice, he’d take anything to cut his losses. 

Thomas follows Rafayel around his studio. He can see the state Rafayel is in, the dark bags under his eyes, and the unkempt hair and clothes.

“Rafayel, I think some rest-”

“I don’t need it.” Rafayel picks up a paintbrush, which is already messy from the various hues it was dipped into previously and begins to put strokes onto his canvas. Across the room are scattered paintings and unfinished sculptures, all half-done and looking rather gloomy. 

Thomas tries again. “I can book you a weekend at your favorite onsen. Perhaps a massage. It’ll help clear your head.”

Rafayel glares at him, anger in his lavender eyes. “I said I don’t need it. I have work to do. You know where the door is.”

Signing, Thomas takes his dismissal and the studio is plunged into silence. Rafayel tries again to finish his painting then grits his teeth and hurls the paintbrush away. Droplets of paint drip across the marble floor as it clatters some feet away.

It had been a while since you had broken up with him and Rafayel feels like he’s stuck in time. All his works are incomplete, becoming a neverending list of things that he might never actually pay attention to again.  

Of late, he’s obsessed with trying to paint you, but each time he recalls your face, something or the other feels off. The shape of your eyes, too slanted to be accurate, the curve of your nose, too round to be correct, haunt him as he gazes at the canvas before him. It was you, yet it wasn’t you. 

There’s panic growing in his chest at the idea that he might be forgetting what you look like. His hands and memory seem to be at odds with each other, unable to communicate and translate what he was remembering onto paper. 

He traces the edge of your face, the paint smearing his fingertips, frustration welling up in his heart. He feels disappointed in himself. Hadn’t he said to himself that even if you forgot, he’d remember for the both of you? Yet now, he can’t recall the features of your face, like the image of you in his head was behind a pixelated curtain, and all he could recollect were rough features that somewhat resembled you.

He might put himself into a manic state. He hasn’t slept, haunted by the possibility that he may never paint your portrait accurately again. Rafayel pulls out his phone, the light illuminating his tired face and he desperately looks through his photos. A few days after the breakup, in a fit of rage, he’d deleted all your photos off his phone, an action he now regretted.

“Please…please…there’s gotta be at least one…” he prays as he swipes through the pictures. As he’s about to give up, he finally comes across a single photo, a group picture, taken from his art exhibition some time ago. And there you are, all your features coming back to him with painful clarity. With a sigh, he picks up a fresh paintbrush and tries again, feeling relief flood him as your familiar face finally begins to bloom onto the canvas. 

Luke and Kieran looked in concern at the closed door of Sylus’s room. Sylus wasn't the type to conduct business remotely. Even with all the henchmen at his disposal, he still preferred going out into the N109 zone to ensure his armories and money accounts were secure. But after the breakup, he had been delegating more and mingling with his associates less. 

The missing bottles of whiskey hadn’t gone unnoticed by their keen eyes, and the twins carefully crack open his bedroom door a fraction. He’s slumped over the large desk made of fine oak wood, a liquor bottle cracked open, and a glass in his hand. 

His ruby eyes are hazy and it’s clear he’s intoxicated. The little grumpy crow plushie was sitting on his desk, and his unfocused eyes were gazing in reminiscence at it while Mephisto glared at the soft toy in objection. 

“Boss?” Luke dares to approach him, and Sylus looks up sharply. 

“What?” The irritation in his voice is evident. 

“Um…Your meeting with the protocore dealer. He just left a message saying he hasn’t been able to get in touch with you and…” His voice falters as Sylus’s eyes glow like embers in a fireplace.

“He can wait.” The words are snarled as he downs the whiskey in a single gulp before pouring more. “Get out.”

Luke and Kieran retreat but they glance at each other despairingly. This was the N109 zone after all. Dealings with mafia leaders didn’t just get put on hold without consequences.

“Damn it all,” Sylus murmurs. He swirls the whiskey in his glass, and all he sees are your eyes, fixated on him in horror. He was used to the erratic atmospheric changes in the N109 zone but the night you left, it felt like he was being choked by the air, not a drop of oxygen left for him to breathe in. He knew he’d overdone it when threatening the merchant, knew he should have controlled himself from using his evol as cruelly as he had. But he needed the upper hand and the only way knew how to assert himself was through violence.  

He’d never hurt you. His precious little dove, his whole heart. But what you’d witnessed had left you terrified of him and his ominous abilities. Sylus had begged; his pride wasn’t so great as to risk losing you. He’d fallen to his knees, his arms locked around your waist, his cheek resting on your chest, listening to the way your heart was beating in your ribcage. It was hard to say how long the two of you had remained that way until you had gently disengaged from his grip, bid him goodbye, and left. He wasn’t deterred at first, calling and texting you desperately, sending gifts and bouquets to your door until you had called him and told him to stop. 

He drinks, feeling the heat and the sting of the whiskey as it goes down his throat, the only thing that helped with the pain. You were the sunlight in this dark world and without you, Sylus feels nothing except coldness. You were gone, the only blessing he’d ever received.

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh @ladyparamount

[yanderenightmare]

What if curse darling tried to escape from yandere gojo? How would he punish her 🤔?

Gojo Satoru

P1 & P2

TW: abduction and captivity, mild condescension, a lil angsty

gn reader

You rushed over once you heard him at the door – but the smile only barely stretched your face before dropping again. 

Coming to an abrupt halt, the former intention of hugging him was wasted, and the words meant to welcome him home went stillborn on your tongue. 

Nevertheless, he tugged off his blindfold with his thumb, and his pearly hair fell down in pretty whisps around his crown, shadowing the light of those stark blue eyes that slowly peeled open – and unaffected by your stilled state, he still kicked off his shoes and tugged you into his chest anyway – nuzzling his nose into your neck with a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“Mh, I missed you~”

Your nose twitched, and you sunk your teeth into your lip – feeling puzzled and awkward and slightly sick to your stomach. Arms hanging loosely by your sides as you let him sway you into him – dwarfed by his height, he had to slouch in order to hug you properly – with lanky arms slung around your midriff, pulling you close in a squeeze before loosening up again.

He kept his hands on your hips as he placed a kiss on your lips, but you didn’t react. Still standing there, something akin to frozen.

“Hey- where’d you go?” He called, cocking his head to the side while looking into your eyes with those searing earnest blues of his. “Not happy to see me?” He joked softly in a snicker – lightheartedly carefree.

It all felt so very wrong it made you release a sound that wasn’t too short of a whimper, albeit much weaker, almost so he didn’t even hear it.

“You-” You started but couldn’t quite finish, unsure of what it was that you needed to say. 

You looked down at his uniform. It wasn’t much. Maybe he hadn’t noticed or maybe he just hadn’t cared – but… flecks of blood dotted the black fabric.

It smelled of curse – a dead curse – a killed curse.

You grimaced. 

They’d been pained and scared toward the end – toyed with – dismembered and mutilated – mangled beyond repair. But for whatever reason you couldn’t fathom, he’d given them time enough to heal only to bring them back to the brink of death yet again – played with them for what you could tell had been a long while.

You smelled ridicule and a cry for mercy layered with a later cry for death, and it shook you to your core.

You shivered, taking an abrupt step back – removing yourself. Rubbing your goose-fleshed arms as you hugged yourself for comfort – reeling from the cold-hearted cruelty you’d felt seep into your bones from his touch. 

He’d barely even washed his hands clean of all the blood.

You swallowed thickly, unable to look him in the eye – just staring at the spray of browned red that had since dried, now cakey and flakey, falling off like dust. 

“You reek-” Was all the bile in your throat amounted to in the end – only a weak utterance.

His brows did a play of confusion before he followed your gaze, looking down at himself and finding what you were staring at. 

Oh…

Despite being a cursed spirit, your nature isn’t exactly violent. Guess you’re not as desensitized to carnage as him. 

It’s still odd, though. It couldn’t be sympathy he saw riddled on your face, right?

No. You’ve always been sensitive to dirty things. You’re just your normal disgusted self. You would have reacted the same way if it were ice cream.

He walked inside with a laugh, ruffling your hair as he passed you.

“Right- I’ll go shower. So uptight~” He dismissed with a tease, removing his jacket as he took long but relaxed strides to the bathroom.

You were left standing there for a moment. Unsure of the feelings brewing inside you. 

You thought you might need to puke, but it never came…

Still, you felt weary and decided to go lie down in bed.

You hadn’t slept in your room in a while. It had become a little dusty but you didn’t mind – you needed your own space right now. A place away from him.

But it didn’t last long. 

You heard him call for you some while later. You didn’t answer – lying in the dark beneath the covers.

“There you are~ You hidin’?” He chirped once he found you. “Or are you sleepin’?” 

You felt the bed sink as he climbed atop the covers, slipping down next to you – curtly running his hand over the duvet, stroking down your side until resting on your hip. 

“Not that I’m complaining- I had a long and boring day anyway.” He continued, scooting closer until he was spooning you tight – pressing his lips to where your ear would be. “Would be nice to end it with a little playtime~”

His toothy smirk slowly became a frown at your silence, sulking with a bored pout.

“You’re not still upset about the blood, are you?” He asked then. “I changed and washed it off, so I’m all clean now- you little neat freak~” Voice smooth and flirty, cuddling your cocooned body.

But still, you ignored him – and the doubt in his mind gave rise to a confused furrow between his brows. He thought for a minute before speaking up again. Squinting at his suspicion.

“That curse was a plague, you know...” He excused. “I had to kill it.” 

He looked at your unmoving body in wait, hoping you’d say something.

And you did – muttering. “It’s not the curse I care about, Jujutsu Sorcerer.”

He blanched. It had been a while since you referred to him that coldly.

“I just forget sometimes.” You added. Voice muffled beneath the covers and almost so quiet he nearly couldn’t hear it.

“Forget what?” He asked.

There was a small pause before you answered him. “What you are…”

The curl on his face unraveled. Face blanking. Wordless.

“I’m sure you forget what I am too.” You continued. “That if I ever tried to leave… you’d hunt me down and reduce me to just a few drops of blood you’d then go home and wash off as though it meant nothing.”

He barely let you finish before yanking the covers off you, exposing you and the tears riddling your face to his view.

“That’s not true.” He denied.

“No?” You questioned harshly, sitting up in a rush – and getting in close to his face – daring him with a glare. “Then tell me. What exactly would happen if I decided I no longer wanted to stay here?”

His hair still dripped with cold droplets from his shower as he returned your stare. Your question was a dangerous one... 

One he’d rather not answer.

He swallowed. “You have to stay here. You know why.” He said dismissively – his voice in that serious timbre he never uses – that tone devoid of the usual frivolity and instead holds that very dogmatic weight that urges you to surrender the fight before it gets too messy.

But you don’t heed the warning. “And if I can’t accept that? If I fight you-”

“Don’t be silly. You could never win-” He cut you off – before getting cut off himself by your next words.

“What if I tried anyway?” Your voice a little louder than before – staring him square in the face.

He paused, taking in your eyes – their narrowed state, as well as the brim of tears circling them. He thought of what he’d done that day and then tried imagining doing it to you – and came to a realization.

“I wouldn’t fight back…” His words were soft again, without edge. “I could never hurt you…” He cupped your face in both hands, his eyes full of something so wholesome it nearly made you flinch.

Then he looked sad. Pained in some way – or guilty, maybe.

“But still…” He started quietly. “I could never let you leave either.”

His hands were warm and gentle on your cheeks, but you wished he’d stop touching you.

“Their blood smelled of terror and torment. Did you have fun torturing them until they gave out?” The question was pointed – your words meant like venom.

His frown returned, letting go of your face – though you both remained only a split hair’s length apart. “So this is about the curse?”

“No, this is about you.” You corrected sharply – mirroring his frown with a bitter one of your own. “Is it the same type of fun you have subjugating me into being your tame little housepet?”

His face soured even more – now as though offended. “You're more than that to me. Don’t say that-”

But once again, you interrupted. “Livestock are pets until slaughter season. Suppose a butcherer would think that’s kind-”

And once again, he returned the favor – this time with his voice raised. “If I let you out of here, another sorcerer would kill you within a day! Keeping you here is what keeps you safe!”

You scoffed with your own voice climbing higher. “Don’t be so rude to paint yourself as a saint when you reek of sadism!”

There was a standstill, an all too deafening silence afterward – one filled with heavy breaths and the lingering echo of your last statement – until that as well, died and became nothing.

Satoru looked down, his head hanging – lifting gently with his breaths. 

“I’m not a saint.” He murmured after a minute. “I’m selfish. And greedy.”

You watched him – much shorter than him, even as he hung his head, you were still able to see his eyes flicker with uncertain light beneath those heavy mothlike lashes.

“I didn’t kill you like I was supposed to because I saw something I wanted for myself, so I took it.” He confessed. “And I killed that curse today and had fun doing it.”

Taking your hands in his, he cradled them as though he planned on drinking them.

“You’re right. I am a sadist.” He sighed, giving a small breathless laugh. “It feels good to know that I can do whatever I want whenever I want to whoever I want. And it feels good to know that no one can stop me.”

Finally, he raised his chin and looked back at you – those eyes of his intense with something raw – something desperate.

“I don’t care about anything. So many things could happen outside these four walls and it wouldn’t matter. I’d still be Gojo Satoru and you’d still be mine.”

A tiny gasp slipped through your lips, but other than that, you couldn't move – compelled to keep his gaze – spellbound to their deep light.

“But the one thing I can’t do is make someone feel the way I want them to…” He continued, still with his voice soft. “And even though you don’t have a choice, I’m still selfish enough to wish that you’d want to stay with me. Forever.”

He gave your hands a squeeze.

“And most selfishly…” He leaned in, his face kissing yours softly, brow to brow, cheek to cheek, and nose to nose – lips ghosting as your mouths breathed in each other's air. “I want you to love me.”

Your breath shook. Eyes downcast, brows trembling, and he’d say you almost looked scared, weren’t it for how hard you gripped his hands in return – making indents in his skin with your nails as though anchoring yourself.

“Curses can’t love.” You tried excusing, but your voice was weak and he wouldn’t have it.

“I don’t believe that,” He rejected – and looking right through it, he knew you didn’t believe it either. 

Then he chuckled.

“After all… I’m the worst curse of all, and I love you.”

P1 & P2

[aestheticaltcow]

Healing

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

This one went in a different direction than originally planned ngl. There isn't a lot of smut but I like how I ended it... MDNI 18+

The Bear Masterlist

Previous part

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide the pleasure you felt when Carmy finally erupted inside of you. Carmy’s whimpered moans filled your ear as he nipped at your jaw the way he knew you loved. You sighed as you let your fingers run down Carmy’s toned back. 

When Carmy pulled out, you felt his ejaculation ooze out of you, and regret washed over you. You should have just walked down the hall to your room and pretended you never saw him jacking off with your underwear while he watched a video of the two of you hooking up. You watched him lay next to you and catch his breath before rolling on his side to face you. You reluctantly copied the move and stared at him. 

Carmy gently pushed your bangs away from your face before planting his hand on your cheek. You bit your lip, trying to hide the soft smile on your face. He grinned and took a shallow breath before admitting, “I’m going to work my ass off every day for the rest of my life to prove how sorry I am.”

You nodded in response and moved closer to him. Carmy’s hand left your face, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. “I love you, baby,” he mumbled into your shoulder as he snuggled you as closely as humanly possible. You nervously swallowed, “Carmy… I don’t think I’m there yet…” you felt his body shift below you. “O-okay.” he stuttered, “Can-n you lay with me a little longer?” 

“Of course, Carm.”

~

“Mia, I need you to eat your breakfast,” you sternly explained as Mia threw pieces of egg on the floor. “Baby girl, come on.” You sighed as you crouched in front of her high chair before taking the fork from her hand. She wiggled, trying to get away from you as you stabbed the sliced banana in front of her. “Mia, let’s have a good morning that starts with a good breakfast.” 

“Are you trying to bargain with our ten-month-old?” Carmy laughed as he stood in the kitchen doorway. You rolled your eyes and stood up, “You try. She’s bein’ so fussy this morning.” Carmy shook his head and went up to her. Mia’s hands immediately started grabbing in his direction, “I swear, I carried you for nine months. 22 hours of labor, and a c-section, only for you to love him more than me… you’re lucky you’re cute.” you playfully teased Mia before planting a kiss on her chubby cheek. Her giggles lit up the room as Carmy pulled a chair beside her, “Okay, princess, let’s eat.” 

As you ate your breakfast, you watched Carmy feed Mia. Something was different about him. You leaned back against the counter and really looked at him. He wore one of his slightly too-tight T-shirts and a pair of black jeans with the same gold chain he’d worn every day. As you scanned his body, you saw it: He was wearing his wedding ring. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him wear it. Something about it made you feel uneasy.

~

“Hey, Carmy… when you get home tonight, do you think we can talk about some stuff?” you asked as you adjusted Mia on your hip. Carmy looked at you like a deer in the headlights and hesitantly nodded as he picked up his backpack from the ground. “It’s nothing bad… just about last night and some other stuff,”  you explained, hoping to alleviate some of his anxiety. Carmy nodded again and slung his bag over his shoulder. He stepped forward and kissed Mia’s head before playfully punching your arm, “Bye, girls…” he grinned before ducking out of the house for the day.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel of his car as he sat in traffic on his way to work. What did you want to talk about? Last night was everything he wanted. The two of you had sex for the first time in almost a year, the two of you slept in the same bed for the first time in months, and for a minute, Carmy had everything he’d wanted. He should have deleted Selena’s number when he got in the car that day. You were going to leave him; that’s what it had to be.

Throughout the day, Carmy was distracted. He was thinking about the conversation the two of you were having that night. He should prepare a speech. Should he buy you flowers? If he left early, he could stop at your favorite bakery and pick you up a sweet treat. Prep, family, and dinner service were a blur. He heard people talking to him, but none of what they said made sense; it was like he was back in school. Everything was going in one ear and out the other. He just needed to get home.

When Carmy walked into the house that night, he felt his heart rate accelerate. He quietly pushed his jacket off and stepped out of his shoes before walking back to your bedroom. You sat in bed doing something on your computer. Carmy sighed before making his presence known. He saw you sitting in the middle of the bed with your hair wrapped up in a microfiber towel, your face shiny from skin care products, and your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. “Hey baby.” he weakly grinned as he approached the bed. You grinned at him and closed your computer, “Hey Carm.”

“Still wanna talk?” Carmy asked as he shoved his hands into his pant pockets. You patted the mattress beside you and watched as Carmy pulled his hands from his pocket and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Carmy, I want-” You were cut off by Carmy standing up and pacing the space between the bed and closet door. He pushed his hands through his hair, took a deep breath, and looked at you with his fingers still tangled in his hair. “Baby. You can’t leave me. I know I fucked up, but please give me a second chance-”

“Carmy! I wanna go to couple’s counseling.”

~

“I understand that you didn’t have sex with that grocery store whore, but you went to her house with the intention to. And that’s what I’m hung up on.” you calmly explained as you watched Carmy sit back on the ugly cranberry couch in the therapist's office. The two of you had been going to therapy for a little over a month at this point, and while a dialogue was created, he just didn’t understand why you couldn’t move past it.

“How does that make you feel, Carmen?” the therapist questioned as they fidgetted with a pen.

“I’m confused. You kicked me out for like two months, contemplated divorcing me, and then you let me come home and sleep with me, but you’re still ‘not there’ when I tell you I love you. We’re spending a lot of time together as a family, but when I try to hang out with just you- you get weird. Like last night, I sat next to you on the couch and you got up because you ‘had to check on a rendering video’; then you didn’t come back. You act like nothings wrong around Mia or family, but when we’re alone, it’s like you’re in a different universe. Look, I know I fucked up. I just want to know what I need to do to make it right between us. I get we can’t go back to exactly what we had, but do you even like me anymore?” Carmy looked at you while on the verge of tears. 

“Y/N, is there anything you want to say?”

“Carmy, I care about you so much and value our relationship, but right now, I’m just frustrated. I would never cheat on you, and the only reason you didn’t cheat on me was because you ‘couldn’t get hard’... I just- I don’t know what I need from you right now. I really appreciate you agreeing to this, and you’re a wonderful father, but I just don’t know.” you explained as you picked at the hole in your jeans. 

~

Carmy opened the passenger’s door for you, and you quickly slipped into his car. He walked around and slipped in the driver’s seat, “We should start planning Mia’s birthday party.” you brought up as he turned on the car. Carmy nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone from your purse, “I have a couple of Pinterest boards for party inspo. Since she’s not gonna remember it, we don’t have to go all out, but I like the idea of doing ‘My Berry First’ birthday party since my baby shower was also kinda fruity themed-”

“You don’t like me anymore.” Carmy spat, cutting you off midsentence. “What?” Surprised by his statement, you put your phone down and looked at him. He sighed and pulled over into a 7/11 parking lot. You watched as he tilted his head back and stared at the car's roof before slowly blinking. “Baby. Do you like me? Do you actually want to spend time with me? The only thing we do together anymore is go to couples counseling. You never want to go out to dinner or run errands together- the only time I fuckin’ see you is when we’re doing something with Mia. You say you love me and want to reconcile, but you don’t like me.” Carmy rubbed the back of his neck before glancing in your direction. 

You’d turned in your seat, bringing your left leg up to the seat awkwardly sitting on it, “Carmen… I just- I don’t know. I like you, and I love our family, but it’s just hard.” you began to explain. “Listen, Carmen, I don’t want to divorce you. There’s just this tension- I don’t know how to explain it to you. I look at you and see the man I’ve been with for, like, what, seven years? But then I start thinking about you and that fucking whore. I think about how you didn’t tell her you were married. I think about her kissing you and touching you- it makes me wanna fuckin’ puke.” 

You took a deep breath before continuing, “Carmy, I like you. I’m just- not there yet….”

~

“Hey, I’m gonna go to bed,” you said, poking your head into the living room. Carmy nodded without looking up at you, “Night.” he said as he flipped to a different channel on the TV. You stood against the doorway and watched as he stared at the screen lifelessly. With a sigh, you walked into the living room and stood beside Carmy. He was unphased; you needed to up the antics. You stepped closer and swiftly straddled Carmy’s hips, which thankfully got his attention. Carmy swallowed when you put a hand on his collarbone, “Hey.” you halfheartedly grinned. 

Carmy took swallow breaths as he stared up at you. He allowed himself to rest his palms on your hips before fanning his fingers out to grab the fat of your ass, “I’m not really in the mood, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit him, “I swear Carmy… I like you. If I didn’t, I woulda never come up to you at that bar. I wouldn’t have agreed to be exclusive. I wouldn’t have moved into that shitty apartment you had. I wouldn’t have given up that job opportunity in California. I wouldn’t have married you or had your baby. I like you as a person, partner, father to my child…. Let’s spend some time together.” 

~

You rubbed your lips together after applying a layer of pink-tinted lip oil. Your hair and makeup were as good as it was going to get. After slipping on a red barely long enough to cover your butt dress and a pair of black platform boots, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You smoothed down the bottom of your dress and grabbed a slightly oversized light-wash denim jacket along with your bag, “Let’s fuckin go.” you said as you walked out of the bedroom.

Carmy was in the kitchen with Mia on his hip. She had a fist full of his tank top in one hand and one of her stuffed animals in the other. When he heard the dryer go off, Carmy gently put her down, “Race ya?” he asked, hoping to tire her out enough for Donna to keep up with her. Mia plopped on the floor and stared up at him, disinterested in doing anything to make his morning easier. Carmy laughed and walked to the laundry room just off the kitchen. He grabbed a short-sleeved button-up shirt and slipped it on before throwing the rest of the clean clothes in a laundry basket. He felt nervous. It was silly, though- it’s not like he’d never had a date with you. He took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen to see Mia playing with Tupperware; he shook his head and swiftly scooped her off the floor. Mia dropped the container on the floor and grabbed at Carmy’s ear.

“You look pretty,” Carmy said as you sat in the passenger’s seat of his car after strapping Mia into her car seat. You smiled and pushed your bangs back, “You noticed…” you teased. Carmy chuckled as started backing out of the driveway. He put his right hand against your seat as he looked over his shoulder. You held your breath when you noticed his jugular bulge from his neck. 

You were looking out the window when you felt Carmy reach over to your lap, you glance down to see him intertwine his fingers with yours. A blush came to your cheeks as he squeezed your hand softly, you bit your lip and rubbed your index finger between his knuckles.

Dropping Mia off at Donna’s always made you nervous; she’d changed since Natalie had started having kids, but you were haunted by her drunken rants criticizing Carmy for being with you and how you must have only been after his money. You laughed to yourself as you watched Carmy walk Mia into the house. She grabbed in your direction, her adorable little smile shining past the shield of her pacifier. You waved back before Carmy entered the house. 

He came back to the car and pulled his phone out of his pocket to connect to the car’s bluetooth, “Where are we going on our date afternoon?” you asked as you nudged his shoulder. Carmy grinned at his phone as he scrolled through his Spotify playlist looking for a song to play, “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.” he hit play on his phone and pulled away from the curb.

~

A couple of donuts and a walk through the park led you and Carmy to a secluded bench by a pond. “Have we brought Mia here?” you asked, unsure of the familiarity of your surroundings. Carmy nodded, “Sorta—you were pregnant with her.” 

You smiled and scooted closer to him, snaking an arm around his waist. Carmy smiled and threw an arm over your shoulders. “It’s weird. We have a one-year-old. It feels like I was pregnant with her yesterday.” 

“It is. If you could change anything—aside from the obvious—what would you pick?” Carmy asked into your hair as he kissed the top of your head. You thought momentarily, “Well, besides the obvious, I don’t think I’d change anything. We have a pretty cool kid.”

Carmy rubbed your bicep as the two of you watched ducks swim in the pond. Carmy brought his free hand to your chin, pushed it up with his index finger, and brought his lips down to yours. Before the two of you could kiss, he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you, baby?”

Instead of answering, you pressed your lips to his. He kissed back immediately and pulled you closer to him. You cupped his face in your hands as Carmy pulled you onto his lap; your stomach fluttered as Carmy’s grip tightened. As you separated your lips to allow your tongue to slip into Carmy’s mouth, you felt his phone vibrate against your hip. Carmy wanted to ignore the call and risk getting caught for indecent exposure, but when you reluctantly pulled away, he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw Donna’s name flashing across the screen. “Looks like Grandma Donna is at her Mia limit.” he chuckled and answered to have his assumptions confirmed by an overwhelmed Donna and a crying Mia in the background. 

You got up from Carmy’s lap and smoothed down the back of your dress. He swallowed when he saw a peak of your butt cheek as you stood up. “We’re on our way, Ma.” he quickly said into the phone, cutting Donna off mid-sentence before hanging up.

 “We can pick up where we left off later,” you say, biting your lip. Taking Carmy’s hand in yours, you trek back to the car and retrieve an overstimulated Mia from Grandma Donna’s house. By the time the two of you had gotten her to calm down and eat, the mood was gone, but Carmy had promised to make it up to you the following weekend.

~

“Dam, I thought the view from behind was good, but it’s even better up here.” some Andrew Tate-looking man greeted you. You internally cringed as you noticed how he looked at you like a piece of meat. You rolled your eyes and waited for the bartender to finish the drinks you’d ordered. “Can’t even get a hello?” the man questioned you, stepping forward. You scoffed, “I don’t owe you shit- maybe my husband’ll say hello to you.”

“I don’t see a husband anywhere. Don’t play so hard to get a sexy girl. Why don’t you come back to my booth?” His slimy offer disgusted you. You shook your head and slipped the bartender a $20 before taking your drinks back to the small window table you and Carmy had been sitting at. Carmy was outside on the phone dealing with some issue down at the restaurant; he shot you an apologetic smile.

While Carmy was wrapping up his phone call, the man from the bar strode up to the table to convince you to go back to his booth. You weren’t having any of it. “Where’s that husband of yours?” he questioned, sitting where Carmy had been moments prior. You gestured outside; Carmy had his back to the window as he listened to Richie’s nonsensical problem.

“That guy? The one on the phone who’s not even looking at you? I don’t believe you, sweetheart.” he purred as he relaxed into the chair opposite of you. You rolled your eyes and held your left hand up, you wiggled your ring finger; “Say that to the ring on my finger.”

“Come on, baby girl. I just bought a bottle of 925 Diamante Ley. Do one shot with me, and then you can decide if you want to come back to your ‘husband’ or not.” as he reached out to touch your bicep, Carmy cleared his throat. You looked up at him, immediately relieved. The guy looked over his shoulder, and Carmy glared at him, “Get a fuckin’ clue asshole. This is my wife and the mother of my child. Fuck off before I need to make you fuck off.” 

The man looked Carmy up and down before shifting his attention back to you, “Oh hell fuckin’ no. Don’t need that nasty stretched out-” he was cut off by Carmy shoving the guy out of his chair. “Don’t fuckin’ dare finish that dam sentence. She’s a fuckin’ angel, and you should even be allowed in the same room as her.” Carmy spat as the guy stumbled back to his feet. “Yeah, whatever, man- she’s not even that hot.” he scoffed as he pushed past Carmy. You reached out to grab Carmy’s hand as the man walked out of earshot, “He’s not worth it, Carm.” you spoke softly as you squeezed his hand in yours, “Can we just get out of here?” 

Carmy looked back at you, nodded, and pulled you to his side. As the two of you walked out of the bar, you couldn’t help but notice the scuzzball trying to get another table of girls to come back to his booth. You rolled your eyes and wrapped an arm around Carmy’s waist as he directed the two of you back to the car, “Fuck that dude.” Carmy mumbled as he closed your door after you’d gotten into the passenger’s side.

“You know your pussy isn’t ‘stretched out’ or ‘nasty’ right?” Carmy asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you on the drive home. You nodded, “I know Carmy.” 

When Carmy parked in the driveway, he turned his head to look at you. He put a hand on your thigh and squeezed gently. You placed your hand on his and sighed softly before asking, “Do you wanna take a shower with me?” 

Carmy laughed, “Baby, if I ever say no to that question, have me committed.” You rolled your eyes and opened the car door. As you walked to the front door, Carmy was hot on your heels. Before you could open the door, Carmy wrapped his arms around your waist. You put your head back against his shoulder, “Pay the sitter… I’ll start the shower.” 

Carmy nodded and kissed your cheek before dropping his arms, allowing you to open the front door. You quickly walked down the hall, quickly poking your head into Mia’s bedroom before heading back into the master bedroom. Carmy stared at your ass as you walked away. He sucked in a breath and went into the kitchen to see the babysitter sitting at the kitchen island reading out of a beat-up history book, “Hi, Mr.Berzatto. Mia was a little fussy, but I got her down.” she began to explain. Carmy nodded, not really absorbing anything she’d said. He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out to Venmo her for the night. “Thanks, kid- Y/N or I’ll call you next time we need you.”

You stood in the bathroom in your underwear, waiting for the shower to heat up and for Carmy to join you. Carmy locked the front door and grabbed the baby monitor from the kitchen counter before barreling down the hallway. When he got to the door to the master bedroom, he took a breath and slowed down so he wouldn’t come off as overly desperate. Walking into the bedroom, he put the baby monitor on your dresser before kicking his shoes off and stripping to his underwear. As he walked to the askew bathroom door, he ran his tongue over his teeth when he noticed you looking at your reflection in the mirror. He noticed you pulling at the skin on your stomach with a frown. Carmy huffed and softly opened the door more. You looked over at him as he stepped further into the bathroom. His hands found your hips and lifted you onto the counter, “So fuckin’ sexy, baby…” Carmy muttered as his lips crashed onto yours. You were taken by surprise but allowed Carmy to wedge himself between your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Carm- showers on…” you manage to get out after pushing his chest away from you. Begrudgingly, he stepped away and pulled the shower curtain open. “Oh god, you’re trying to boil us alive.” Carmy laughed as he pulled his hand away from the water. You rolled your eyes before hopping off the counter. After removing your bra and underwear you stepped into the shower. Carmy pushed his boxers down and joined you after turning the heat down. 

~

“Can you sleep in here Carmy?” Carmy’s heart stopped as the words left your mouth. He nodded softly trying his hardest to not come off as desperate. You saw through it immediately and playfully nudged his shoulder as you walked past him into the bedroom. Carmy looked in the mirror and pushed his wet hair back with his hands, a goofy grin was plastered on his face at the realization that he’d managed to get back on your good side. 

When Carmy joined you in bed you immediately scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I missed this…” you mumbled into his chest as you snuggled closer to him. Carmy chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“I missed this more, baby,” he responded as he pulled you onto his hips. “I love you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but hurting you was the worst,” he said as he held you. “I’m never going to hurt you like that again.” 

You nodded and pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Staring down at him, you saw the Carmy you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “You’re not gonna get a third chance, Berzatto. Fuck up again. I’m cutting your dick off.” you threatened, much to his amusement. He shook his head, chuckling, “I won’t need a third chance, baby.”

“Good. I love you, Carmen. Don’t make me look like a fool again.”

[malfoyswand]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

summary: draco malfoy pays you a visit in the infirmary after the battle of hogwarts, leading to healing for the both of you.

word count: 1.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: none, besides mention of the cruciatus curse being used

➪ masterlist

You were woken up from your slumber by the feeling of a cold ice pack being pressed upon your head. Sighing softly in relief, you were thankful for the care Madam Pomfrey had provided you these last few hours. 

To be honest, you weren’t entirely sure what led you here. You could remember preparing for the battle against Voldemort and fighting off a few Death Eaters. Then, the world went black. 

Madam Pomfrey had been kind enough to fill you in. According to several students, one of the Death Eaters had used the Cruciatus curse on you. You fell to the ground and hit your head, causing a concussion along the way. The Death Eater had assumed you were dead after using the curse so many times, and left you lying there. 

But still, you don’t remember anything at all. Then again, you were not thinking about fighting off the Death Eaters at the time. Your mind was on something, someone, entirely different. 

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Your voice harshly spoke out as you winced slightly before opening your eyes. However, it wasn’t Madam Pomfrey holding the ice pack against your head. 

It was none other than Draco Malfoy. 

Only then did you realize the looks both of you, rather him, were getting. Your ears could hear the whispers of classmates besides you, asking each other how Malfoy had the nerve to step into Hogwarts after all his family had done. 

“Are you real?” That was all you could manage to say, oh, how idiotic that must have sounded. But truthfully, you thought this was a dream. 

You hadn’t truly gotten the opportunity to look at him up close for nearly a year, until now. His skin was much paler than before and his hair seemed to shine brightly in the setting sunlight. He looked like an angel who was here to pick you up and carry you away. 

The sound of his laughter drew you from your thoughts. “Even in the aftermath of a war, you still manage to find a joke. That’s talent, (Y/L/N).” 

You wasted no time in sitting up, wrapping your arms tightly around the Slytherin man before you. You weren’t sure if it was more for you or for him. 

“Draco Malfoy! I told you, keep her laying down, or else you’ll be kicked out of here, understand?” Madam Pomfrey wasn’t exactly too pleased with the Malfoy family, or any of the Death Eaters for that matter. In her view, they were the direct cause for every bed in the infirmary to be full. 

“Yes, Madam. My apologies.” Draco spoke softly, as if he was afraid to upset her. He helped you lay back down before sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping the ice pack pressed against your forehead. 

“I know I must be the last person you may want to see right now. But I have a reason I’m here, I swear it.” He continued to speak, his eyes scanning nervously over your face. 

You wouldn’t go that far, but you were confused to see him. You hadn’t spoken to him in almost a year, since the two of you had broken up during the sixth year. You knew he was a Death Eater, and you tried to love him through it. It was only a matter of time before Draco was ordered to eliminate all distractions, including you. 

It had been painful. You knew Draco Malfoy was not the villain of this story, but so many had painted him to be so. He never wanted to try to kill Dumbledore, or to destroy Hogwarts. The school was his home, a place of comfort where he could escape from his family. Unfortunately for the both of you, he had allowed the opinions of others to cause a division in your relationship.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he realized you weren’t going to force him out of the infirmary. “I tried to look for you during the battle, (Y/N). Once we..” He winced slightly at the notion of referring to himself as part of Voldemort’s army. “..were inside the castle, I was looking for you in every room he forced us into. My father became aware of what I was doing, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight to look for you on my own.”

“I should have done more to get free of his grasp, I could have prevented you getting hurt.” His eyes were full of despair and self-hatred as he looked at your head, along with the various bruises along your body. “I was praying to some higher power that I would find you first, not another Death Eater. Merlin, I wish I did. I never-”

He was interrupted by the sound of your own voice. “Draco, please, stop. None of what happened is your fault, okay?”

What he confessed left you speechless, you didn’t quite know what to say. You didn’t think his focus would be on finding you, his ex-girlfriend, during the battle. If anything, his focus should have been on surviving. Why would he even bother searching for you, what would have happened if he did find you?

“But it is!” His voice raised slightly, causing every other patient to turn their heads towards you two. After everyone went back to their conversations, he continued in a softer tone. “It is, don’t you understand? I should have followed my gut and never become a Death Eater. Bloody hell, I should have left my family behind while I’m at it. I would have saved this entire school a lot of pain.”

There was a bit of truth in his statement. In an ideal world, he should have never given into the pressures of his family. But the real world was much more complicated. Deep down, Draco lived to please his parents. He wanted to make them proud of him more than anything, the Malfoy family name survived only on his broad shoulders.

At least, the old Draco cared about the opinions of his parents. You weren’t sure about the one sitting in front of you. This one seemed much more restless and daring. 

The old Draco never would have expressed his feelings and regrets in such a carefree manner, even to those he trusted. He never would have shown up in a place that held much of those regrets, just for a girl he used to date. Nevertheless, he never would have shown up with his platinum blond hair a mess with bags under his eyes. 

“Draco, calm down.” You reached out slowly to place your hand on top of his, your thumb slowly caressing his hand. The movement was a familiar one, it was as if your body simply knew what to do when Draco was upset. Although, it used to be him comforting you. 

A soft smile appeared on his face, his fingers interlocking with yours. His eyes went back up to yours, it was as if he was searching for an answer inside your eyes. You squeezed his hand, telling him in a nonverbal way that everything was going to be fine. 

“This is pathetic. I should be the one comforting you, as you’re the one in a hospital bed.” He spoke, earning him a soft laugh escaping your lips. It was quite ironic, in all fairness. However, seeing Draco processing his feelings openly was a comforting thought. 

“You are comforting me, you know. I was surprised that you came back to see me, after everything.” The silence was heavy for a moment. That ‘everything’ held every moment that happened between the two of you. It held every conversation, every stolen glance, everything both of you were too afraid to say to the other.

He sighed softly, tilting his head to the side. “Even after all this time, you’re still surprised when I do something nice for you. Don’t you understand that I love you?”

His confession made you feel as if your breath was caught in between your throat. If you were honest with yourself, your feelings for Draco Malfoy didn’t stop the moment he left you after becoming a Death Eater. It had continued, as if your love for him was a ghost that wouldn’t leave you alone. It lingered in every room, its presence never faded.

In fact, the one thing you do remember during the battle is searching for him too. While you defended yourself, your mind was only focused on whether he was somewhere in the castle. You wondered how you could escape this situation and take him with you, safe from here. 

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring that on you, especially right now.” You could faintly hear him cursing himself, you realized you hadn’t even responded to him.

“I love you too.”

That caught his attention. His eyes widened, a glimmer of hope returning to him. A slight smirk then appeared on his face, you could see the tension in his shoulders almost disappear into thin air. 

“Those were four words I thought I would never hear from you again.” He spoke softly, bringing your hand to his lips for a moment. “Now, I want you to rest that pretty head of yours and get better. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes, sir.” You laughed softly before closing your eyes. You knew the two of you would have more difficulties to address another day, but for now, the simple joy of Draco sitting by your side gave you an overwhelming sense of peace.

[pawpiefawn]

𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

❤︎ alhaitham x gn!reader 1.1k words alhaitham cooks you a dish from his childhood.

in the apartment you shared with alhaitham, there was no explosive rage or hurtful yelling – there were no plates thrown or doors slammed or chairs hurled against walls that had seen more than they should have.

no, home was quiet and healing. it was ivy-crawled bricks, breezy curtains and ambient lighting that was a testimony to the soft-lipped love he spoke to you, words he learnt passed down from his gentle grandmother.

alhaitham would keep you safe; he promised himself the moment his eyes met yours.

love was gently knocking on the door to tell you that dinner's ready. love did not rage or come home angry – it did not yell at you over something trivial. love was patient and whole and kind. home was love, love forgave and repented and knelt to ask for forgiveness; love forgave, without a second thought, because love was home.

home was love, alhaitham was home, alhaitham was love.

between you and love, you usually cooked – it wasn’t that alhaitham didn’t want to cook, or that he couldn’t; well . . you were just better. better in the sense that dinner’s vegetables just seemed to slice and arrange themselves neatly in obedience to the ruler of the kitchen. somehow, you measuring seasoning with your tender heart always made it taste better despite his countless accurate measurements.

cooking in the kitchen was also where love was found.

it was in the sweet, soft light that entered through your kitchen window, perfect rays broken up through the trees outside – and of course, it was found in alhaitham; his built frame leaning against the kitchen countertop, admiring you and feeling a slight twinge of envy at your proficiency in the kitchen. dishes were cooked with ease and you just had so much fun, twirling around with your wooden spatula. you gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before turning back to stir your pot of stew.

“ah, it’s going to burn–”

“don’t be silly, it’ll be fine!” the only thing he felt in the kitchen, with you at its helm, was happiness.

perhaps he could try once again? perhaps he could– no, he would. he would make some of that happiness with his own hands, laden into porcelain bowls to share with you.

the next time alhaitham walked into the kitchen, it was with aching arms heavy with brown bags chockfull of dinner ingredients. vibrant padisarah petals, marbled chunks of beef, plastic bags filled to the brim with rice grains and aromatic spices that left its mark on your kitchen. he knew exactly what he wanted to share with you tonight.

“you’re cooking?” he hears your footsteps as you bound into the kitchen, pattering against the cool marble excitedly.

“yes, i am. dinner should be ready in a few hours.” alhaitham lets a faint smile grace his features. you wrap your arms tenderly around his waist, burying your face into his back. he couldn’t see your sweet grin this way, but that was alright. your joy practically radiated off your warm frame.

“thanks for cooking tonight.”

he lets his hands work their magic – some sort of magic he still faintly believed in. it had been some time since he cooked something like this, after all; and much less a dish he last tasted in his last remnants of childhood.

in went the beautiful cuts of meat, sizzling over hot oil, browned then mixed with all the nostalgic spices his tastebuds yearned to remember. fresh limes, red tomatoes, sweet onions, everything tasty and good were then added to the mix. white pearly grains of rice were cooked and added to the pot.

almost done, now.

all that was left was to wait for everything to meld in perfect harmony. alhaitham found himself staring at his work. the rice was a blank canvas for the myriad of spices, with familiar love and nostalgia that this dish brought together in a pot. empty dishes and cutting boards stained with effort littered the kitchen counter, and he sighed in fervent exhaustion just at the thought of cleaning up.

“oh! don’t worry about the dishes tonight, i’ve got them~” you chirped eagerly, tiptoeing to catch a glimpse of whatever was making your kitchen smell absolutely heavenly.

“you’re sure?” alhaitham raises an eyebrow. “i can do it, it’s not a problem.”

“no, i’m sure – you put in so much work for tonight! think of it as a thank you!”

always so sweet, offering to lend a hand no matter how tiresome or bothersome it was. did you know how much of an angel you were? alhaitham lets another smile slip past his weary face. thank you.

he hears the timer ding! and immediately turns to the stove, his masterful work steaming and ready – it looked incredible. warm gravy coated every grain, beef chunks tender and pulling apart at the force of a dinner fork. it smelt incredible. it was warm, spicy, fragrant with every hint of nostalgia he added.

it smelt like home.

kind, inviting, warm, hopeful, home.

“it’s done!” alhaitham lets out a quiet laugh as you wrap your hands around his waist again, peeking at the food hungrily.

“it smells so good.”

“this one’s for you.” he nods, setting down your bowl after ladling steaming hot biryani into it. he finishes it off with a few padisarah petals, turning the bowl towards you.

“alright, chef. you wanna introduce your dish?” you tease, giggling softly and pushing some rice aside to reveal the chunks of spiced beef. you spoon a portion of the biryani into your mouth, chewing thoughtfully and savouring every bit of effort he put into tonight’s dinner.

“well, i wanted you to try something i grew up eating. my grandmother made this for me in my childhood years.”

you hear your spoon clink against your bowl as you set it down to rest, staring at him.

“you made me something your grandmother used to make for you?” there is a slight quiver in your voice as you comprehend his sweet words.

this wasn’t just any dinner, then. it was a part of himself that he wished to share with you. it was young alhaitham seated at the dinner table, waiting for the food every night made by his loving grandmother. it was when three wooden chairs were swapped for two new ones, when only a good plate of homemade food could make him push aside any grief. it was his grandmother’s love in a dish –constant, reliable, and never failing to bring a hint of a wistful smile to his face.

“i did. i thought you would enjoy it.” alhaitham smiles, looking up from his bowl to see you wear a sombre, yet grateful expression; but there was no denying that you were enjoying it.

you were loving every bite, immensely – it tasted just a touch heavier on your tongue after he shared – and it was beautiful. nostalgia was the most powerful ingredient one could add, and time only told the truth – everything tasted better, when made with all the love and care and conscience in the world.

“thank you, alhaitham.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Making JJK men realize what love is

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Warnings: language, near death experience in Sukuna's part, fluff over fluff, not proofread

feel free to enjoy 🤍

Geto Suguru

He hates those monkeys. Like a mantra, he reminds himself over and over again while he watches you from afar, stunned from your sudden presence. How your delicate hips swing from side to side on this hot summer day, how flawless you look when those innocent rays of sunshine hit your skin just right.

And then your eyes meet yours. Oh, how he hates the way his heart skips a beat, how a small smile forces itself onto his lips while your whole face lights up in an instant, feet stopping right in their tracks in order to rush towards him.

You met Geto Suguru when you were at your lowest, haunted by sleepless nights and the feeling of being watched all the time. Just when you were on the brink of going insane, you found out about this strange cult leader who healed countless people before you. With one swift motion of his somehow elegant hands, you were healed, regained your smile, your will to live.

And somehow, you can’t help but get mesmerized by that man with the charismatic brown eyes and smile so gorgeous that you simply can’t keep your mind off him.

Suguru clenches his hands into fists, forces a wall up his heart so high that you can’t climb it. This is ridiculous, so disgusting that he can’t look at himself in the mirror anymore. You are a monkey, a non-jujutsu sorcerer. Damn, you are like every other girl that rushed to him, dark circles underneath your bright orbs, begging on your knees for relief. But why…Why does his heart almost beat out of his chest, seeing you in that cute summer dress? He should kill you right here on the spot, should end your puny life just like he did with others countless times before. You are nothing but a disgusting human, a bug underneath his boots.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!”, you cry out, storming his way with your hair waving in the light breeze like in those trashy movies Shoko always forced him to watch.

“I was actually on my way home”, he explains softly, cursing himself over and over for his gentle tone.

Damn, he didn’t even take your money back then.

“I…I don’t know if a simple thank you will ever be enough”, you breathed out.

Just before you stormed towards him.

Just before you wrapped your hands around his neck tightly, pressed your delicate body against his, engulfed him with the warmth of your presence.  

Suguru couldn’t help but just sit there, widened eyes staring at the wall opposite of him where the blood of his last victim still shone through the white paint.

You, a monkey, dared to touch his figure with your disgusting hands? The instinct of pushing you away while killing you right on the spot came swiftly, but somehow…

He loses his breath when you wrap your arms around him again, your intoxicating smell making his heart skip a beat along with the sensation of your naked skin touching his.

Something about you is different.

“I actually just went shopping for you”, you bubble out, fingers hectically searching for something specific in the countless shopping bags you carry with you.

Is it your well-formed figure, how your body seems to fit right in his hands? Is it your tender appearance or the way your fingertips seem to touch his heart instead of his skin? How your words always hit the right nerve, make him waver, make him wonder? No, despite being a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you radiate nothing but kindness. There is in fact no cursed energy dripping out of any pore of your delicate body, not a single spark of negativity since the day he took that curse off your shoulders.

You are pure, you are kind. And you seem to be the only person apart from that man years ago who has absolutely zero cursed energy, who isn’t responsible for these curses. You are everything he hates, everything he fights against and yet you’re not.

And you aren’t even aware of it.

“I know you prefer salty over sweet, so I got you this. It’s a speciality…-“

Suguru can’t listen any longer, eyes fixated on the way your pretty mouth moves and your wild mimics. How nice it must feel to caress them with his very own mouth until they get puffy, feeling your breath hitch against his cheek while he holds you in his arms.

No. He shakes his head ever so slightly. You are a monkey, he hates you. He hates the way he urges to make you laugh just to hear you giggle. He hates the way his eyes always find you even in the crowdiest places in Tokyo, how his breath hitches even though he has seen you so often. He hates how he instinctively visits the places he knows you love, the back of his heart always searching for you.

His heart…What is this strange feeling? He hasn’t felt anything despite hatred and grief for so long that it might be a heart attack.

Gently, you open his hand and place a little package inside of his, orbs shining so brightly that he gets lost in them again.

No. That warmth spreading in his guts tells him otherwise. This isn’t a heart attack, let alone hatred.

“I think I love you, (y/n).”

He watches how your eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, the other package you were holding in your now numb hand falling to the ground.

“You-…what?”, you stutter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He shouldn’t have thought, let alone say something like this. Love? Suguru doesn’t love anyone. He killed his own parents, wouldn’t even shy away from killing his former best friend if he has to. No, in Suguru’s world there is no place for a heart, especially not for loving a monkey, a disgusting creature-

The stinging sensation from your tender touch against his cheek makes his mind go blank, forces his eyes to meet yours. That breath-taking smile on your face, your fingertips caressing his oversensitive skin…

“I think I love you too, Suguru.”

Suguru fails to breathe, fails to do anything apart from staring at you. You, loving him back?

Why would anyone love someone like him?

“You can’t love someone like me. Not after all the things I’ve done, the things I’m still about to do. You wouldn’t say that-“

“The moment I met you I knew about the things you did. I saw those blood splatters on the wall, your cold gaze. But now all I’m seeing is warmth. All I’m seeing is you.”

He’s lost at words, lost at sight. At the moment, there’s only one thing to do, one thing that feels right.

And that is pressing his lips against yours the way he always imagined, allowing his hands to press your body closer to his, enjoy the sensation of your breath hitching against his mouth.

Maybe this is what love feels like. After all this time…

It’s you.

Ryomen Sukuna

“(y/n) is in great danger, master Sukuna-“

“Why would I care about that?”, the king of curses mutters to himself in an instant.

The truth is, his nerves are tingling, mind clouded by countless questions. How did you manage to get yourself into danger when you are considered the queen of curses, so powerful that people slowly but surely forgot to fear him? It shouldn’t seek his interest that you might get killed, it isn’t any of his business. After all, you are nothing but his opponent, a pain in his ass.

“I got bored, so I made sure you’ll get reincarnated, pretty boy”, you teased him, your low voice being the first thing he heard when he awoke.

“Shit, I hoped you’re dead by now”, he replied in sheer boredom.

Like in slow motion, you emerged out of the darkness with your body as hot as it was when he last saw you 500 years ago. Your hand wrapped itself around his neck tightly, deadly orbs glared right through his soul.

“I won’t die before you, Sukuna.”

Somehow, he always relied on the fact that you never left his side. A sickening feeling of discomfort crawls up his back, flashbacks of your oh so pretty face haunting his mind. It would be so easy to let you get killed right here and now in Shibuya. What a relieve it would be to be the kind of curses and not getting questioned by your presence.

But something lifts him off his throne, forces him to listen to the words that hit the brat’s ears. What is he supposed to do?

“Take your dirty hands off me and show me where she is, curse.”

The curse on top of him stumbles backwards, gives him the space he needs to stand up and look around when he’s finally in control of this puny human shell. Fuck, his life would be so much easier without you in it. But still, Sukuna finds himself pinning that volcano curse against a nearby wall, almost scratching his face off with his free hand.

“Show me where she is or die.”

“She was severely injured by Gojo Satoru”, the curse presses out.

“Satoru Gojo is sealed, you fool.”

“But he wasn’t back then. She wasn’t able to heal herself and until now, she is still trapped underneath a curtain.”

“Show me.”

Every breath hurts while your body is plastered onto the floor, limbs not able to move a single inch. That bastard really caught you off guard. You weren’t even able to unleash your full potential when he hit you with a wave of hollow purple and slammed you into a building until you hit the ground, taping you into this hole with a curtain.

You aren’t an idiot. Absolutely no one is able to save you in that state, not when the queen of curses herself isn’t able to pull herself out of that situation. You were a fool when you thought you were ready to face him with a third of your full potential.

“Rookie mistake”, you breathe out, a muted laughter escaping your lips along with a trail of blood.

You never imagined your life to end like this, especially through the hands of a random jujutsu sorcerer. How will he react when he finds out?

He. Sukuna. The kind of curses, your opponent for as long as you can think of, your greatest enemy until he disappeared into thin air. But no, this isn’t enough. Hatred doesn’t fit your feelings towards him quite right and you’ve known it for a long time.

Out of instinct, you shake your head so violently that you feel like breaking your own neck. How ridiculous to even consider these kinds of feelings, to let this cursed word cross your clouded mind. Love is weakness, love is an invention of dumb humans, nothing for a queen of curses. 

Your glossy eyes wander to your lifeless hand, covered in your very own blood, touched by him countless times before.

“I’ll kill you”, Sukuna hissed through gritted teeth while grabbing your hand and yanking it over your head.

“Tempting, but I have to decline”, you replied sarcastically, holding his threatening gaze without any issues.

“I fucking hate you, (y/n). God, you’re driving me insane.”

“What’s wrong, king of curses? Are you irritated by a simple woman like me?”, you teased him, his body so close that you could feel his heat.

“A simple woman? You are the devil”, he spat at you.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. What a shame that you didn’t manage to get on his nerves one last time. Hopefully he gets the job done and kills this whole fucking town.

Hopefully, he won’t forget about you. Slowly but surely your lids close themselves, ears ringing so violently that you fail to concentrate any longer. How nice it would have been to see Sukuna one last time.

To feel him one last time…

“Now, what do we have here? Are you really about to die here?”

“Don’t haunt me before I die”, you mutter, voice so muted that Sukuna almost fails to understand you.

You look absolutely broken, your body literally teared into pieces. And that curtain on top of you…That curse was right, this doesn’t look good at all. And somehow the king of curses feels panic rise inside of him, the sight of your breath getting stuck in your throat washing away the cheeky grin plastered on your face when reality hits him with full force.

You could die right here and now.

He doesn’t think twice. With a swift motion, he frees you from the curtain that was nothing but a minor shadow on top of you anymore, eaten up by your immense powers. Before his mind is able to stop him, he lifts your puny figure off the ground, carefully pressing your head against his chest.

“Don’t you dare to die here”, he warns you with a voice so soft that he is almost afraid of himself.

What the hell is this strange feeling that holds onto his heart, that doesn’t allow his gaze to leave your face? Your oh so gorgeous face, so shamelessly beautiful that it hurts.

“Almost sounds as if you’d care about me…”

He stops in his tracks, arms pressing you even tighter against his own body while your words echo through this fear-clouded mind.

“Because I do.”

His mouth replies faster than his mind is able to stop him, forcing your tired eyes open.

“You do…what?”

“Forget about that”, he mumbles in an instant, quickly starting to walk again.

“Say that again.”

“I would rather kill you.”

Toji Fushiguro

“What the hell are you doing here, Toji?”

“Was waiting for ya. Here, I ordered you something to eat.”

You roll your eyes at his shit-eating grin while letting yourself fall onto a chair opposite of him. It has been like this between you and Toji since you can remember, meeting up in a worn-down café to discuss another mission. Your life has always been shit. As a bounty hunter, you were on your own most of the time, relying exclusively on your own abilities. But when Toji came into your life, something changed.

You were never a couple, but still…The way he grins at you from time to time simply leaves you speechless, reminds you that there’s actually more about life than earning money to keep your head over water.

Stop this madness.

“You need something, right?”

There’s absolutely no use in thinking about these stupid things. Toji lost his wife some time ago, even has two kids. He told you over and over that he’ll never get into a relationship again, that he isn’t interested in dedicating his life to a single woman.

You stare at the fried rice in front of you, slowly but surely starting to eat. He definitely doesn’t feel the same.

“This is good”, you mutter with full mouth, a small smile forming on your lips.

But Toji can’t keep his gaze off you. From the first time he was forced to work with your annoying ass, you were always very easy to look at. And then your personality came in. When was the last time he actually smiled before he got to know you? Fuck, he has absolutely no clue. But he does every single time you do. It became an addiction to him, doing everything in his power just to see the corners of your mouth twitch.

“What you’re looking at, man?”, you mumble in such an unladylike manner that Toji can’t help but lean back in his chair, a small grin creeping up his face.

“Nothing, little pig.”

“That’s definitely not how you talk to a lady”, a oh so familiar voice comments.

“(y/n) ain’t a lady.”

And there it is again. A grin so wide that it shows your teeth with a glimmer in your orbs that leaves Toji’s heart pounding against his ribcage. What a beautiful sight you are, what a truly remarkable woman.

It’s almost like-

“I’ll get going now. Join me later?”, you question towards him on your way up.

“Sure”, he replies out of instinct, watching longingly as you walk out of the café.

“What is that look I’m seeing on your face, huh?”

The man next to him lights up a cigarette while he watches you closing the door behind you.

“Stop talking shit.”

“Only a fool would miss the way you look at (y/n). Somehow you’re the only one who manages to make her smile.”

“Oh yeah?”

Your smile. Your oh so gorgeous smile that lights up entire galaxies, your smile he always imagines before going to bed.

“And it seems like she’s doing the same with yours.”

Finally, Toji glares at Shiu, a huff escaping his lips.

“What can I say? I like her.”

“Like? Don’t you mean love?”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake@lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva@kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

[missnancychavez]

So I am on my third rewatch of Twisters. So here are some of my own personal headcanons and theories for the movie and some parallels that may add weight to those theories.

1. The original 5 friend group dynamic: Jeb and Praveen have known each other for years and are each others best friend. Javi and Kate are the dynamic duo (basing it on the fact that they were the only ones to do the handshake together). And Addy is everyone's little sister. Her and Kate were extremely close, but in a different way than her friendship with Javi.

2. Tyler Owens is the nephew of Bill and Jo on Bill's side (As we knew Jo didn't have any sibling). He spent his summers with them as a kid, and then as a teenager, he moved in with them full time. He started chasing with them around then, too. He even pays homage to that as he is driving a newer model of Bill's red dodge ram.

3. Boone and Lily have something going on. The way Boone screams her name as she gets picked up by the wind. And their personalities are perfect together. You can't convince me otherwise.

4. Kate and Tyler kiss in the truck after the chase they go on straight from the airport at the end of the movie. (Refer to point 8)

5. Kate puts in her resignation almost immediately, and Javi cuts ties with Riggs and Scott. The wranglers and Kate join StormPAR. Kate and Tyler spend the off-season working with Javi while the others do their own gigs, but during the storm season, they are all chasing and gathering data.

6. Cathy is so encouraging of her daughter because she's been through loss before. They called her Mrs. Carter, meaning she was married. Kate's dad died when Kate was a little girl. Cathy had to learn how to navigate being a young mom and tending a farm on her own. But she also knows that it could stop her from living her life. So she didn't. She grieved, and she learned to live with the grief and still do what she loves. It's why she is so encouraging of Kate getting back out there.

7. Kate stayed in OK for another couple of weeks after the tornado (neither her nor Tyler appeared injured in the final scene, and the truck looks great, all things considered, so clearly they had time tp heal and fix the truck.) They all were forcibly invited back to the farm by Cathy after Tyler and the wranglers went to drop Kate off post El Reno. Cathy took one look at Tyler and forced him in the house. Kate gave herself a headache from laughing so hard. She was then sent inside alongside him. Cathy made everyone stay for as long as they needed. But she did, however, get some free labour from it. It was an unspoken agreement that Kate's was now home base.

8. By the credit scenes, Kate and Tyler are together. Their first kiss was immediately after the two of them went chasing from the airport. Something about their adrenaline rushing, and it being just the two of them. It was electric. It was immediate. It just happened, and when they pulled back, they both started laughing. It reminded him of the first time they chased together, just the two of them. Kate delayed her flight for another two days. She was back home within the month. Tyler quickly realised he would have to start bribing Boone afterwards on the days he and Kate went out.

9. Kate and Boone will play card games at night to see who gets shotgun the next day, when Boone isn't riding with Lily, of course. Turns out, Kate's damn good at playing poker. On the rare occasion that Kate drives, Boone automatically hops in the back of the truck. He won't tell anyone, but he loves it when she drives. She gets this manic energy about her in the drivers seat and his adrenaline always ends up pumping. Tyler loves it, too, but he has no qualms verbalizing his affections toward her.

10. Tyler has nightmares now. Of watching Kate drive into the tornado. Of finding her body, discarded and broken by his truck. Of her slipping through his fingers during a storm. He wakes up sweating and panicking. And it's only when he sees her that he can calm himself down. The two of them, those first two weeks after El Reno, would spend hours each night, sitting in the barn, going over formulas. Or sitting outside on the tree swing, talking until they were both too exhausted to have any nightmares. When she left to go back to New York, she wasn't particularly surprised when one night she awoke to her phone ringing, Tyler close to having a full blown panic attack as he tried and failed to reassure himself that she was okay without her help. They would always call each other before bed after that, usually falling asleep over facetime.

[xxchumanixx]

Healing together

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+ mdni!, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (fem receiving), fingering, fluff, angst, hurt, comfort

Word count: 4.731

Authors note: Hello guys! I know I said I'd be uploading another story (actually two), but I had this idea all of a sudden and I just couldn't let it slide. So I had to do it first. Get ready for some naked time with Tim Bradford!

Enjoy!

That, was not how your day had been supposed to go.

Not at all.

Being in the middle of a crimescene, staring at your ex-boyfriend - Yeah, it definitely wasn't supposed to go like that.

It should have been a normal day - you should have went to work, did your job, before going home, cook, shower, sleep.

Simple as that.

But when a colleague from work had been killed in the middle of the day, causing the whole place to be crowded with police and forensics, the day had begun to shift.

Slowly, the simple things became complicated - being crowned when you spotted a familiar face amidst the officers: Tim Bradford.

Sucking in a breath you tried your best to hide, which wasn't that easy given the open parking lot you currently were at.

But he didn't seem to have seen you yet, calming your racing heart down a little.

Your break-up with Tim was nasty.

You weren't compatible anymore, your interests and goals for the future having shifted completely, going into different directions.

That didn't mean that you didn't love him anymore, but when you gave him the choice - either his career or you - he took the career.

You didn't exactly blame him for it, but he broke your heart. Now, years later, you couldn't help but notice that he looked even better than before.

Scolding yourself for thinking this way, you shook your head. He shouldn't be of interest for you, not after all this time.

But he was.

So, when someone cleared their throat behind you, you froze.

"Ma'am, we would like to get a statement from you." You knew his voice, it still haunted you in your dreams - you would have recognized it from anywhere.

Turning around you did your best not to look too suspicious. Sending him a crooked smile his eyes widened, mouth agape as the pen in his hand almost slipped from his grasp.

"Y/N." he carefully said your name, like he was testing it on his tongue after all these years. "Tim." you gave back, swallowing.

The woman beside him - according to her name tag she was officer Chen - looked between you in confusion.

"You know her?" she wanted to know, pen pointed at you. "Yeah..." he returned, eyes fixed on you. "Briefly." you cut in, noticing how his mouth twitched at the statement.

"We were in the same class in academy and she used to work for the LAPD." Tim explained.

"You're a cop?" she asked, sounding almost excited. "I was." you corrected her, biting your lip.

"I was, until a case went wrong, sending me to the intensive care unit for almost three months." "You nearly died." Tim added, shaking his head the slightest bit. "If the bullet had hit a millimeter more to the right he would have hit your heart. Not that it would have been the only bullet, though."

Swallowing at the memory you nodded slightly. "Yeah, the scars remind me everyday of my almost day of death."

Chen bit her lip. "I know that feeling." she mumbled. "Been buried alive. That psycho tattooed my DOD on my ribs."

Your brows rose high at the horrible time she had to have went through, eyes widening. "Officer Bradford saved me." she explained, motioning at Tim.

Nodding you felt a familiar tug at your heart. "He uses to do such things from time to time." you told her, trying to hide how your voice trembled.

"Y/N!" he shouted your name. It sounded strange through the blur and the fog in your head. "Stay with me! Keep your eyes open, you hear me? Y/N!"

Blinking rapidly, you had to get away from him. His presence opened wounds that never managed to heal.

"What are you doing here? I thought you went to New Orleans?" Tim wanted to know, tilting his head slightly as his brows furrowed. Your lip twitched - you had barely been in New Orleans for a year.

It was beautiful, but it wasn't LA.

"I'm back, have been a few years now, actually." you explained, fingers tugging at lose strings on your pants. You just had to grab the one with holes in it, hadn't you?

Why even buy overpriced pants with holes, anyways?

Shaking that thought off, you continued. "I'm working here, the one who's murdered was my colleague. Although I contemplated going back."

"Back to New Orleans?" He almost sounded alarmed, but you shook your head. "Back to the police."

That must have alarmed him even more, as his eyes widened significantly.

"I've got an offer from Grey." you explained, tugging a lose strand of hair behind your ear. Tim swallowed, nodding.

"So you two were rookies together?" Chen inquired, smiling. "How was he back then?"

Clearing your throat you looked at her. "He was ambitious, eager." you explained. "A little reckless."

Tim's brows rose at your words. "I was reckless?" he wanted to know, huffing. "We were both reckless when we decided to be-" he cut himself off, already having said too much.

But Chen was clever, as she caught on to what he wanted to say.

"Wait, you two were together?"

Rolling your eyes you looked away for a second.

Damn him and his mouth - even when the memory of what his mouth was able to do made you blush.

Not what you wanted to think of in that moment, though.

"We were." you confirmed, nodding as you looked back at her. "Didn't work. It's history, nothing more."

Tim swallowed, it was so loud that you could hear it.

His gaze wandered over the crimescene, before it fixed on his rookie. "Boot, could you get a statement from this man over there?" he asked, pointing somewhere, though it wasn't really a question.

Chen knew that as well, nodding.

"Was nice to meet you." she spoke, before she turned around and headed for the man Tim pointed at.

Cocking a brow you looked up at him, as his gaze fell back on you. "What?" he asked, brows furrowing. "You did that on purpose." you replied, giving him a pointed look.

Sighing he stuffed away his pen and notepad, nodding. "Yes, I did."

Biting your lip you contemplated to run.

You didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but if he sent his rookie away, he wanted to do exactly that.

You knew him.

Sighing, you decided to stay. It would have only looked suspicious if you ran - they didn't need to falsely arrest you, because they thought you were the murderer.

Biting down on your cheek you waited for him to begin.

"You look good." he spoke hesitantly, a small smile gracing his lips. Nodding, your brows twitched. "Did you tell her to go just so you could tell me that I look good?" you gave back, tilting your head.

"No, I... I'm just surprised to see you, that's all." he admitted, looking down for a split second. "After we... separated, I didn't see you again."

Huffing, you crossed your arms above your chest. "What did you expect, after you broke my heart?" you returned, holding his gaze, even as his eyes averted at your words.

"That I could continue like nothing happened? I couldn't stay, because that meant I'd have to see you everyday, so I quit and went to New Orleans. But it wasn't LA, so I came back after only a year. I kept in contact with Wade and Angela, but that's it."

His brows knitted together. "I don't know if I should be more surprised about you being on first name basis with Grey or you staying in contact with Lopez."

Shaking your head you looked down.

"What are you trying to do here, Tim?" you asked quietly, looking back up. The sun was already setting, shining straight onto your faces, highlighting all of his contours.

Sighing deeply, his gaze fell back on the crowd of people around you. He seemed unsure, hesitant.

"I never got the chance to apologize." he finally spoke, looking down, before his gaze fell on you, as your brows furrowed. "I chose my career, but I later realized that I was wrong. I could have had both and I made the mistake of choosing only one thing."

Shaking your head at his words you felt the anger bubble up. You had suppressed it for so long, that it was hard for you to hold it back now.

"Are you serious?" you wanted to know, taking a step closer, as your eyes narrowed at him. "Angela mentioned that you married - only two years later. Surely your career didn't stand in the way when you did."

He looked like you just slapped him in the face.

"I know." he gave back. "I didn't want to do the same mistake again. But then I did another one. She got addicted, and I didn't intervene at first. Only when she left one night I realized that I fucked up again. I didn't see her for two years, but now she's clean."

Biting your lip you nodded slightly.

"Bet you must be happy now." you said, feeling sorry for her. "We're divorced now." he returned. "It's only a few months ago. But it's better that way."

"Oh." you made, looking away, now feeling guilty, as the anger slowly faded. "Angela didn't tell me. I mean, not that it's my cup of tea, but I'm sorry for you."

He nodded. "Thank you, but I'm okay."

Nodding as well, you didn't know what to say. Luckily, he did.

"You should get home, get some rest." he told you, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I don't know." you gave back, biting your lip. "My car is at the workshop, I got here with the bus, but that won't get here, now that this is a crimescene. I don't know how I'll get home - I guess I'll just walk then."

His brows furrowed. "No, you're not going home on your own." he disagreed, shaking his head. "We still don't know who did this and the suspect could still be close by. I'll drive you."

"What? No, you don't have to do that. I can protect myself." you argued. "I bet you have a lot of work left to do here anyway, not to mention your rookie."

But he shook his head, not having it. "She'll drive with someone else." he told you sternly, before walking towards her.

Mouth agape you stared after him, not sure if you were ready to be alone in a car with him just yet.

When he came back, you couldn't believe that he really was able to just go, drive you home.

"Come." he spoke, walking towards his police car. Still shocked you followed him, knowing that you didn't have another choice. He wouldn't have let you go alone, no matter what you did.

You sighed, when you sat down in the passenger seat. You missed sitting in the shop, the familiar smell and feeling causing you to feel homesick.

Tim started the engine, as you buckled up. Leaning back in the seat your fingers brushed over the door. You had sat so many times in the shop, and after all this time of being no cop anymore, you finally felt at home again.

The drive was silent for the first few minutes, after you told him were you lived.

The silence was heavy, neither one knowing what to say now that you were alone.

"Are you planning on taking Grey up on his offer?" Tim broke the silence, looking at you, before his gaze went back out on the street.

"Before getting in the shop I wasn't sure - but now... It feels like I'm home again. All this time I missed something and I know now, that it was this job."

He nodded, swallowing.

"I took that from you." he almost whispered, and you swore you saw his eyes glisten. "Because of me you gave up your dream. I don't know how I'll ever be able to make up for it."

Biting your cheek, you considered if you should tell him that he couldn't make up for it. But you decided against it.

If you really wanted to get back, you shouldn't stay angry at him. You should at least try to forgive him, no matter how long it would take.

"I'm sure you'll find a way." you quietly told him, looking out your window.

Parking in front of your house, it was already dark. He cut the engine, getting out, before you could have stopped him.

Following him to your front door you hesitated. "Won't you get into trouble for driving me home?"

He shook his head, as he stopped at the door, as you did the same. "No, I can explain my absence." he told you, looking down at you. "I just wanted to make sure that you're getting home safely."

Feeling your heart hammer in your chest, you nodded. "Okay, then thank you for driving me home." you spoke, looking up into his eyes. "Yeah, no problem." he mumbled, staring back.

You felt how you became hot, hearing your heartbeat in your ears at his intense stare.

Slowly, he inched closer, his head leaning in your direction. Your breathing faltered, as you did the same.

His breath fanned over your face and you swallowed, before his lips finally met yours.

Something inside you exploded, as you tasted his lips for the first time since your break-up.

They fit together like they were made to be, his hands finding your hips, guiding you closer. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as you pressed yourself impossibly closer to him.

Your lips devoured each other, his tongue brushing your bottom lip and you let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance, your combined breathing ringing in your ears.

Your heart burst at the feeling, as the kiss grew more heated.

Fumbling for the key, all your worries were suddenly gone. Trying to open the door blindly it took you a few tries, before you heard the familiar click. Pushing the door open, Tim didn't waste any time as he pushed you inside.

He closed the door behind him, before his hands grabbed your face, guiding your lips back onto his.

He pushed you against the nearest wall, your back hitting it almost painfully, as his hands roamed your body. Grabbing your thighs he gave you a sign to jump - and so you did.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer. His lips traveled down your chin to your neck, sucking at it until he found the spot that had you moaning.

Using the advantage he brushed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, before his hands found your hips again. They wandered under your shirt, eagerly touching your skin.

"Where is your bedroom?" he wanted to know breathlessly. "Upstairs, first door on the right." you explained, out of breath as well.

He didn't hesitate to grab you, before he walked to the stairs with you in his arms, showing no signs of trouble as he took them, all the while kissing you as he blindly made his way up.

When he reached the door he pushed it open, only breaking the kiss to locate your bed, before he let you fall down on it. Catching your breath, you pulled your shirt over your head, watching him as he took off his jacket, followed by his shirt and the one he wore under his uniform.

He was breathtaking.

His muscles were more defined than they were back then, making him even more geogous. Unbottoning his pants, you did the same, stripping out of them, before throwing them off the bed.

When you were left in only your underwear, he was back on top of you, his lips taking yours. Lying down on your back his body pressed against yours, his clothed cock pressing against the inside of your thigh.

Sucking down your neck, he again found your sweet spot, earning a moan from you as he sucked on it. Your hands brushed through his hair, as your back arched.

He took the opportunity to open your bra, discarding of it on the floor.

Kissing down to your breasts, his lips found your left nipple, sucking it into his mouth. You yelped in pleasure and surprise, tugging at his short strands. His tongue circled around it, before it flicked over it.

You moaned when he lightly bit down on your nipple, before letting go of it with a wet pop, giving your other one the same attention.

The wetness between your legs was almost getting too wet, the knot in your belly already forming just because his lips were around your nipple.

Letting go of the other one he went further down, trailing kisses down your stomach, until he reached the hem of your panties. He looked up at you, before he kissed your clothed pussy, causing you to suck in a breath.

He was so unnaturally hot.

Chuckling at your reaction, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties, before tugging them down, letting them drop on the floor as well.

Then he pushed your legs back, opening them until he could see his precious price. Kissing your thighs he took his time, causing you to squirm.

You could feel him grin, his hot breath fanning over your heat. Without a warning his tongue licked up your pussy in one stripe, causing your hips to buck, as you moaned loudly.

His tongue went down on you, licking through your folds, flicking over your clit, before his lips sucked it into his mouth.

Your hands found their way back into his hair, fisting it as much as you could with its length, earning a groan from him. It vibrated through your pussy, making you moan in return.

His thumb brushed over your clit, as his mouth let go of you, his eyes finding yours. He drew figure eights on your bundle of nerves, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head, gasping for air.

His thumb was soon replaced by his mouth again, as he slowly pushed a finger inside you, after gathering some of your arousel to wet it.

You moaned, as he started fingering you, all the while pleasuring you with his tongue. When he added a second finger, stretching you, your back arched off the matress, as you pulled his head even closer.

The knot in your stomach tightened almost painfully, as his fingers fell into a steady rhythm. He brought you right to the edge, and when you looked down at him, your eyes finding his, you fell.

Screaming his name, you came. He didn't stop though, taking everything you gave him, as he rode you through your high.

When you came down it, he removed his mouth and fingers, wiping over his mouth, that glistened from your arousel, before he leaned up, kissing you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue you groaned, palming him through his briefs. He twitched, as he gasped for air, before his lips were on yours again.

Tugging the briefs down his legs, he let them fall to the floor, his cock painfully hard. It poked at your entrance, making you all the more eager to finally have him inside you.

His lips left yours, as he pointed at your night table. You nodded, before he opened it and took out a condom, before sitting up a little. He rolled it down his shaft, before he lay back on top of you.

Kissing you again he guided his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing the head inside.

Moaning you clenched, making him hiss. "Fuck." he breathed. "You're so tight." Smirking you pushed in his direction. He slowly eased forward, until he was buried to the hilt.

Breathing heavily you leaned back into the cushions, needing a moment to get used to him.

His lips brushed your cheek, as he waited for your go. Nodding, you signaled that you were ready.

Slowly, he pulled back until only his head was inside you, before thrusting back into you hard. You yelped, toes curling at the sensation, as he did it again and again, slowly becoming faster.

You fell into a steady rhytm, your hands gripping his bicep with his arms at either side of your head.

His eyes found yours and you sucked in a breath, moaning his name. "Fuck." he swore, biting his lip. "Do that again." Your cheeks flushed. "Tim!" you moaned his name again and he groaned, his thrusts getting harder, deeper.

You wouldn't last long if he kept this up.

Your breasts bounced, and he kissed down them, circling your nipples with his tongue.

Your hands found his hair, tugging at it almost painfully at the sensations. The knot in your belly tightened again, as you brought his mouth back to yours.

He thrust into you vigorously, his pelvis brushing your clit, sending sparks up your body and making your toes curl.

"I'm gonna cum soon." you told him inbetween moans, biting your lip. One of his hands gripped one of your legs, giving you a sign to wrap them both around his middle.

Doing as you were told you felt how he reached even deeper, earning a moan from you both.

His thrusts gained speed, as one of his hands found your middle, his fingers brushing your clit. You twitched under him, as he started to rub it, driving you towards the edge in highspeed.

You were so close to bursting.

"Tim!" you breathed, trying to focus on his face. "I know." he gave back. "Come for me."

With a scream of his name you stumbled over the edge, him following closely as your pussy clenched around him.

He rode out your highs, before he stilled. Breathing heavily your eyes were closed, needing a moment to come down from the best orgasmn you've had in the last few years.

When your eyes opened again they met his, as he brushed a sweaty strand of hair out of your face. You smiled, still feeling a little high.

He returned the smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Time stood still, as you enjoyed this moment in silence.

Still a little out of breath he rolled down from you, his back hitting the sheets as he lay down beside you.

"Fuck..." he mumbled. "That was..." "Amazing." you finished for him. "Yeah..."

You lay in silence as you slowly caught your breath, him discarding of the condom, before lying back down. But as the high faded, something different bubbled up.

Feelings, that were so deep buried inside you, suddenly pushed back up. Gasping, you tried to suppress the tears -failing horribly as a sob broke through.

"Y/N!" Tim called out your name in worry, sitting up. "What happened?" Tears streamed down your face, as you sat up as well.

"Why couldn't it just have been fine?" you wanted to know, causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Why couldn't we just have been happy back then?" you returned, wiping your face.

He fell silent, as he knew what you meant.

Crying silently you suddenly felt ashamed. You shouldn’t have been crying over the past, but you couldn't help it. After all that happened, you still loved him.

"After you've been shot, almost dying in my arms..." he began, breaking the silence, as his gaze fell on the sheets. "I built this shield around me, that was supposed to prevent a situation like this from happening again. I almost lost you, an event that traumatized me so badly... For a very long time I tried to convince myself that what I did was right."

He sighed, and you swallowed, biting your lip as more tears fell.

"When I married Isabel, I tried to prevent something like this, but I failed - again." he continued. "She was undercover, getting addicted. I didn't know how to help her and to be honest, I don't believe that there was actually a way I could have helped. If anything, I made it worse. It reminded me of us. I relived the events from when you were shot, nearly dying. You lost so much blood that they had to revive you - two times. Knowing that it was my fault, knowing that you could have died because of me - something inside me broke. So when I built this shield, and you asked me to go with you - I was scared that it would follow us. I was scared that you'd be in harms way, because of me. So I chose the job."

Sobbing, you tried to understand what he just told you.

"It wasn't your fault." you told him, wiping your face, even though it was useless. "Yes it was! If I-" he wanted to argue, but you cut him off. "No, Tim! It was not your fault! It was mine!" you shouted, pointing at yourself.

"I was sloppy that day, I didn't sleep enough, wasn't feeling well. And if I hadn't hesitated when trying to shoot the attacker, he wouldn't even have had a chance to get me. It wasn't your fault, do you hear me? Nothing of this was on you, Tim."

His mouth was open, eyes red from the tears he tried to hold at bay.

"You never said that you didn't feel well." he realized, swallowing. "If you would have told Grey, you wouldn't have even been there in the first place."

Nodding, you bit your lip, absentmindely brushing over the scar on your chest with your fingers.

"Yes, but i was so eager to get that job done." you explained. "Nothing would have stopped me from going out there, so stop blaming yourself. Please, Tim."

It fell silent again, as your tears slowly subsided.

All this time you had suffered, because he thought he was at fault for your accident. He blamed himself, even though it wasn't his fault at all.

When he suddenly scooted closer, his arms wrapping around you with his chin on your head, you heard him sniff. Leaning against him you breathed his familiar scent, your heart bleeding as he cried.

You could have had it all. Could have lived a happy life. He could have married you instead of Isabel, who ended up getting addicted, breaking his heart.

You had both suffered so badly.

And as you sat there, both crying over the past mistakes, you made a decision.

You would forgive him.

After all, he did what he did to keep you safe - even if he broke his own heart in the process as well.

After a while he shifted, looking down at you. His eyes were red and a little puffy, but yours didn't look any better.

"I shouldn't have let you go." he told you, wiping away the remnants of your tears. "When you asked me to go with you, I should have said yes. I shouldn't have pushed you away, out of fear that I might lose you if I didn't."

Shaking your head, you sniffed. "I shouldn't have made you choose." you gave back. "I ran away from my fear, but it didn't work. I should have stayed and tried to heal, instead of running."

He breathed deeply, his hand on your cheek.

"I want you to know that I never stopped loving you." he admitted, holding your gaze. "Not even when i was with Isabel."

Smiling through another wave of tears coming up, your hand lay on his. "I never stopped loving you, either." you returned, a happy feeling spreading through you.

It tickled your veins, warming you from the inside.

He smiled as well, blinking as a tear fell on his cheek.

"Can we fix this?" he asked, hope shining in his eyes. "I think we did already." you gave back, causing him to sigh in relief.

"Will we be together, after this?" he questioned further. Swallowing, you wiped at your eyes, before responding. "I would love nothing more."

He kissed you. It felt different, free.

Like it should be.

"I love you." he spoke, kissing your cheeks. "I love you too." you returned, a giddy feeling spreading through your entire being, smiling broadly.

"And I promise that I'll never leave you again." he added, swallowing, as he looked into your eyes. "You'll never get rid of me again."

"I wouldn't want to."