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januaryembrs · 1 day

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hot chocolate!

(last one i promise)

reader & spencer who aren’t exactly enemies but they’re def not friends but reader always double checks if spencer’s fbi vest is secured correctly which in return makes spencer check her over as well and they’re always like ‘stop checking up on me and worry about your own safety’ and it just happens every single time and they swear up and down that they dislike eachother deeply (they need to make out)

BANE OF MY EXISTENCE | Spencer Reid x reader

description: Spencer hates you, and you hate him, until it comes to protecting each other in the field

length: 0.7k

His fingers wound through the back of your vest as you made a move to dart past him, trailing after Hotch as you loaded your glock.

You felt a yank at your neck, his obnoxiously long arms giving you a firm tug back with little to no effort, all but making you stumble backwards as he forced you to stop, and his fingers were at your hip, adjusting the strap before you could ask him just exactly what he was doing.

“Wha- Reid, let go, my vest is fine,” You snapped, huffing when he ignored you, in the interest of fixing your belt, his brow turned down into a frown.

“Don’t come crying to me when you get shot in abdomen and suddenly you’re bleeding out, and you lay there and thinking, dang if only the smart FBI would have told me to adjust my kevlar, and I’ll be right there to point and laugh and say I told you so,” He huffed, his fingers making light work of the fiddly strap, tightening it until he couldn’t see a single inch of your shirt to the point he heard your breathing constrict, but he thought he’d rather you be a little uncomfortable than shot.

“I mean, if I’m laying bleeding out I won’t really have much to say other than, Reid, get medical, I think they hit something serious, please don’t come to my funeral, you were insufferable enough when I was living,” You said, allowing your body to be tugged back as he started on the other side, because there was no use fighting it when he got in those moods when he always needed to be right.

He paused, his brain catching up to your words and he drew in a silent breath, wondering if the other side of your jacket needed tightening even more, or better yet, if there was any way Hotch would make you stay in the car as back up.

Spencer yanked the strap with a vendetta, ignoring the way you whined it was too tight, and his lips pursed together.

“Would you relax, I was clearly kidding,” You said, thinking his mood had come from your teasing, because you seemed to know exactly what to say to push every one of his buttons, “What I would probably be thinking however is if you’ll be able to flag down a medic with your shoelaces untied,”

His gaze snapped to his converse, and sure enough the double knot he relied on seemed to have failed him, and his strings were hazard material as they dragged along the pavement, already mucky where they’d probably been undone for hours.

“Make sure you do them before we move in, I’m not carrying your bone head out of there if we start taking hits and you trip over your own feet,” You snipped, and he finally released you, immediately leaning down to fix his own issues, completely missing the way your eyes trailed down to make sure he did the loops tight enough because you were being serious when you said it would loathe you to be the one to carry him away from the danger, though probably not in the way he thought.

He huffed, standing back to his full height and giving his feet a wiggle in their shoes to make sure they were comfortable, and he looked back at you where you were watching him carefully, catching the split second where something close to worry pooled in your eyes.

It snapped back into your usual cold demeanour when you realised he was looking straight at you, and you whirled you keep your back to him, inspecting your loaded gun some more as a way to busy yourself.

“Try not to miss, it doesn’t look good on the reports when I have to save your ass twice,” Spencer snarked, and he practically heard the scoff before you even gave it.

“That was one time, Reid, and it was only cause I couldn’t see past your stupid fluffy hair. You’re a cop, Reid, not a poodle, you don't need that much volume,” You snapped back, the two of you squabbling the entire walk to the building, until Hotch separated you for the sake of his growing headache.

He just wished you two would talk things out before he seriously considered Emily’s proposition of locking you in the broom closet together.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader

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reidrum · 2 days

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two millimeters | s.r

a/n: this was literally born bc i saw reid lying on the couch in the jet at the end of demons and thought ‘i would literally sit against that wall to watch over him on the way back’ so i wrote it

summary: spencer gets hurt and you’re not leaving his side

cw: season 9 finale spoilers for angels & demons, cm violence, hurt/comfort, unestablished relationship

wc: 0.6k

___________________________________________

two millimeters to the right, and it would’ve hit his carotid.

the sentence replays in your head like a cursed mantra, rendering your other senses useless. you couldn’t hear the doctor say you could see him now, or feel penny tug your arm towards the room. and you certainly couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw spencer reid in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and iv drips, with a big fucking gauze dressage on the side of his neck.

you knew your line of work was dangerous, being a federal agent who hunts down serial killers should be enough to prove that. but it never surprised you seeing the panic that overtook all of you when one of your own was hurt.

the pure terror you felt in this moment though, was something without parallel.

two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.

you’re not even sure how it happened. they were on the way to tell the preacher he was innocent, and instead he opens fire on federal agents? it was a cruel twist of fate, spencer doing what he could to protect his people and pushing blake out of the way but getting hit himself. it wasn’t anyone’s fault either, the preacher had military grade machine guns, and spencer would have done what he did for anyone. you made sure to tell blake that.

but your spencer was hurt. and all you wanted to do was take away his pain somehow, and toss it in a river to never be seen again.

two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.

“hey,” you hear a voice pull you out of your head. looking up you’re met with tired soft brown eyes lying down on the jet’s couch, “i’m okay, honey. please go sit on a chair.”

if spencer had all his strength he would lecture you on the dangers of not being properly restrained on an aircraft and the statistics of plane related injuries. but that was the problem, he didn’t have all his strength. and you were not going to let him out of your sight.

which is why you are sitting on the floor of the jet, perched in front of the couch where spencer laid, resting your head on the cushion his head was on, body leaning against couch’s frame. and you planned to stay right there until you landed back in quantico.

“looks like this flight is overbooked,” your section unit chief teased upon seeing you on the ground, “hopefully the brass sees our good work and gives us a bigger jet next year.”

morgan, hotch, even jj offered you their seats to at least get some rest, something you hadn’t had in days.

“i’m fine right here.” you spoke softly.

jj and penny looked at you in concern, but knew you wouldn’t be swayed to move anyway. your stubbornness always acted as a curse and a blessing.

spencer moved his hand to graze your cheek gently, “the doctors fixed me up really good, i promise i’m okay.”

you move your hand to rest on top of his, slowly rubbing your thumb into the curve of his palm, “and i promise i’m okay right here. i’m not moving.”

two millimeters. two millimeters. two millimeters.

two millimeters would haunt you for many years to come, but maybe right now you could use it to measure how much closer you can get to spencer till there’s only two millimeters between you.

spencer knew this was a war he was not winning, and let his hand intertwine with yours. if you weren’t so close to him you might’ve missed the faintest “thank you” escape from his lips. the jet takes off and the two of you are lulled to sleep almost immediately. the rest of the team unspokenly watched over you both, making sure you weren’t rattling around or spencer rolling around too much. and penny couldn’t help but take a few pics to show you later.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fic

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yandere-sins · 3 days

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Lingyang or Jiyan accidently releasing a more animalistic side when yn is threatened and needing help to calm down

I wanted to do something for both of them but this idea just shot in my mind and I couldn't get rid of it, so just Jiyan and I accidentally jumped over the comfort part (feel free to re-request if you want to see that kind of scenario, I do have an idea for it, but I was hit hard with a lot of inspiration for this kind of story, sorry!), but I totally agree with your thought here!

[Warning: Yandere, Kidnapping, Attempted non-con by intruders, Violence (Murder, Mention of blood and separated body parts, Description of monster traits, Stabbing someone), Depiction of shock and paranoia]

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

In all the time you were stuck with your captor, you never noticed just how beastial he truly was.

Jiyan was a lot of things. He was kind, friendly, and reliable. People flocked to him to admire the general, wanting to stand next to him for just a moment to bask in the glory he radiated. When he stood there, relaxed and with a faint smile, everyone felt safe, their worries simply washing away. You, too, had been blinded by the false sense of relief his presence promised, approaching him without a second of hesitation and without a spark of fear even when his eyes snapped to you, widening in inexplicable yearning. You let yourself be charmed by him, whisked away with the promise of togetherness, a once off chance to be with him. And you'd come to regret your decision to take his hand, to allow him to lure you into his 'monster den' even though you should have seen the danger signs.

Love at first sight, he called it as he pinned you to his couch. You didn't fight him—couldn't fight him. The pain of his fingers digging into your skin was enough to make you go rigid; how could you have fought someone as strong as him? He spoke of devotion and adoration even when he kissed you against your will. When he pulled you with him towards a secret elevator, he still assured you that this was for your best.

And even when he forced the bitter-tasting potion down your throat that made you drowsy and defenseless, he swore nothing would ever happen to you. Jiyan promised you'd be safe and protected as he caught you in his eyes while you lost your conscience. But that was a lie—everything was.

Jiyan was a lot of things, but he wasn't kind. A kind person wouldn't kidnap someone and force them to live isolated from the rest of society, no matter how much you pleaded and begged. He wasn't friendly either because when you fought him, he fought back. So many days were wasted in fear, screaming matches and hiding from him. So many times he'd force you to be with him, be held by him, let him love you. A nice person wouldn't do that. A friendly person wouldn't have hurt you this way.

But most of all, he wasn't reliable.

Because even when he swore up and down that you'd be safe in this underground prison, that he'd protect you from all that his twisted mind imagined would harm you outside this cage he had decorated for you, chained you up in, and confined you to a lifetime in solitude, even then some burglars managed to find you.

Jiyan's changes in his heart were terrifying.

But to be at some random strangers' mercy was even worse.

You thought they might help. That you could finally be freed. But when the intruders started to smile and leer at you, who was vulnerable and unable to run from them, all hope vanished. You screamed and cried, knowing there was no one who could hear you. Like so many times before with Jiyan, no one knew your whereabouts and this prison was supposed to be safe from outside and inside threats. You tried to fight them, begging them to stop like so many times before with Jiyan, but they wouldn't. In your fear and panic, you wished for the general to save you, even though you knew he wouldn't make it in time.

So, although unwelcome, the surprise was huge when, instead of having the hands of two unknown strangers rake all over your body, you felt their disgustingly warm blood soak into your ripped clothes. You couldn't look away from the slitted, brilliant eyes of Jiyan that seemed to burn with the fire of a dragon, furious and raging. And when you did snap out of it, you closed your eyes quickly to avoid looking at the severed heads and gruesome looks of death on the intruders' faces.

You didn't look up when you heard their body parts fall to the ground with squelching sounds, the warm blood soaking everything. You didn't even open your eyes when you felt Jiyan's uncomfortably familiar arms wrap around you. You sobbed silently into his shoulder as he lifted you up, reeking of blood and death, because you were too afraid to make a sound.

Because what stood before you, cradling you against his chest and holding you as you cried was no man—but a monster. A beast much like the Tacet Discords that haunted the lives of all citizens of Jinzhou. His hold might have been meant to be a comfort, but his arms were rigid with terror, and he held his breath ever so often as he kept hyperventilating in anger. But holding you, even he seemed to calm down, his face rubbing against your head and his chest rumbling with a purr. If not for your presence, you were sure he'd have turned into a terrifying beast, mauling these intruders for whom you held no sympathy. Gnawed at their bones, destroyed every last inch of their bodies, and swallowed them whole.

Just like he wanted to do with you.

You remained still even if you wanted to fight for your life at that moment. You waited for Jiyan to put you down, wipe the sweat-soaked hair out of your face, and place an apologetic, desperate kiss on your forehead before he turned away, muttering, "I'm sorry."

"I should have never left you. I'm sorry you had to go through that; please forgive me."

He was sorry for what happened, maybe even for scaring you with the reveal of his true self.

But that monster wasn't sorry for keeping you locked here, especially now with the death of two people hanging over your head like a sword ready to strike. Cursing this place for all eternity, and haunting the nightmares you'd undoubtedly experience from now on.

You knew you had to be first.

If you didn't, that monster would kill you too, ruthlessly and cold. Brutal and heartless.

Jiyan had already proven that he couldn't be trusted. That he wasn't kind, wasn't friendly, and wasn't reliable in any way. And now that he had to lick off the blood from his deformed hands, who was going to say you wouldn't be the next victim that this beast could devour?

There was something almost therapeutic about pulling the long, elegant hairpin from where he put it that morning and lunging forward to stab it between his ribs. You could feel his heart beat against the metal as the beast cried out in pain. Perhaps betrayal, too.

This time, you looked at him as he gave you the treacherous eyes of a puppy. When he grabbed the pin, holding it in place, you watched as blood dripped from the wound, mixing with the red puddles on the ground. His words were stricken with grief over your betrayal when he asked you, "Why?" and when you looked into his eyes, he suddenly didn't appear so monstrous anymore. He looked like a wounded man. One you came to know quite well, albeit unwillingly.

But you.

The way you stared at him unblinking, your reflection so clear and miserable in his eyes... your skin had paled from the horrors you experienced, the wrinkles deeply etched into your face like that of a haggard witch. You lost weight from refusing to eat and were clothed in garments you could have never afforded by yourself. You stabbed him without thinking twice. You didn't seem like yourself anymore. You didn't even feel human.

Perhaps Jiyan wasn't the man anyone thought him to be, but even so, even a beast like him could still love you at your lowest. Still care for and save you when it seemed impossible. Still apologize for his mistakes, exactly like a human would.

And you thought to yourself that maybe, watching as he went to patch himself up, preparing to forgive you once again for acting out as he had to pull the hairpin he gifted you out of his ribs,

maybe you had become the monster instead.

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brainmuncher · 21 hours

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A mis-text-derstanding

After a long night of patrolling around Amity, Danny damn near collapsed onto his bed. His back ached from a stray ectoblast and his eyes felt heavier than a mountain. Technus had done something to the technology around the town. At random a piece of technology would suddenly go rogue with a virus the ghost implemented. The virus would make the item try to capture anyone in the vicinity using any means necessary. So Danny had been doing regular patrols around town to catch anyone who needed help.

That also means that his sleeping time had been radically reduced. Without even the energy to lift his head, Danny patted around for his phone. Once he finally found the device he hefted himself on his side with a groan. It was a new phone since he was the first casualty in Technus’ plan. Thankfully, Sam had given him another so his parents wouldn’t try to make him one. (Who knows what kind of ‘anti-ghost’ protection they would’ve put on it.)

Tucker had promised that he was working on fixing the virus going around. Hopefully, he had some kind of good news to share. As soon as Danny went to message him he realized he hadn’t downloaded their chat app to the new phone. With a sigh he knew that he would just have to use normal texting but with careful codewords.

Putting in Tucker's number with a yawn, Danny sent the first message.

‘It’s your undead bro. The night out tonight was killer. Any news on the techie progress?’

Danny smashed his face into his bed with a sigh after hitting send. Knowing Tucker he was probably face first in his laptop and won’t notice the message for a bit. He could probably just close his eyes and…

Before he could even consider taking a nap there was a generic jingle from the phone. He should really get to fixing that. Tuck deserves a much better ringtone than some bells.

‘Nothing noteworthy yet. It's harder to crack than normal but nothing I can't handle. Do you need me to take over for tomorrow?’

‘Also why aren't you using our chat?’

Danny squinted at the screen with a slight frown. It had been a while since Sam or Tucker tried to go out in his place. They learned pretty quickly that it made Danny way too anxious to have them out there without him. Something about not being there to protect them if they got over their heads made Danny’s chest ache.

And of course, Tucker noticed that he wasn’t using the app he made. It was a bit glitchy at times, but what tech wasn’t when it came to Danny? Not only was it secure, but it became an easier way for them to establish a timeline for filing. Jazz had been the one who realized that they didn’t have steady information on not just the rouges but the events of the fights. It became a staple to write out what happened and what went wrong after hearing her lecture about it.

‘Don’t have it on this phone yet. And you know how I feel about you being out there.’

Danny watched the screen for a bit, waiting to see if Tucker would reply immediately again. His mom probably caught him on his computer all day and was forcing him to separate himself from it for a while. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for Ms. Foley to do.

‘Yeah yeah, Mr. Possessive. Do you need me to walk you through how to get it again?’

Snorting at the pun, Danny easily replied. If Tucker was feeling sassy enough to joke about that, then he would push some buttons back. It was a simple banter that they sometimes fell into.

‘You know how I get with technology. I’m more likely to break something. Especially since this phone is so new. Whatever happened to flip phones?’

Danny snickered to himself at the message. Tucker had an ongoing war between new and old technology. While he loved his PDA he also admired some of the top-of-the-line devices. It was like the past and the future mixed in his friend's room. He would gush about the new devices but also gush about the older ones that still had functions that the newer ones lost. But flip phones? That was the only technology he knew that Tucker hated. It was the worst of both worlds for him. He’d been so excited when Danny’s flip phone was bricked by Technus’ virus.

‘I’m going to ignore that you said that.’

‘Also there’s going to be trouble in the park near you tomorrow. I’m already planning on going. Do you want in?’

Scooting up from his lounged position, Danny started to write back his reply.

‘Of course, I’ll be there. Don’t need you to go in alone and join the dead. Unusual for him to leave his plans there though. That’ll be fun to write in the report.’

The image of Jazz reading about that brought a smile to Danny’s face. She always found it interesting when one of the ghosts would change a long-time behavior. The fact that Technus was able to keep this rather on the down low would guarantee her interest. He was always one to blatantly announce his plans to the world to hear. Even though it’s a bit of a pain that he’s learning to keep things to himself it would peak Jazz’s curiosity, which made it bearable.

‘It is weird. And don’t remind me about the report. I still have the one from last week to write and I don’t want to do it.’

That made Danny laugh to himself a little. Last week the lunch lady tried to embrace the Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian life. In the overflow of food, Tucker had gotten trapped in veggies. He was visibly green from having to eat some to escape. Sam had been excited about it at first before she saw how much food was being wasted. She ended up getting attacked for trying to explain the damage overconsumption and food waste could bring.

‘You looked like you wanted to vomit afterward. Well, at least we are prepared this time. We don’t always get that chance.’

Danny stretched out his stubborn limbs, feeling himself try to sink into the darkness. He’d have to end the conversation sooner rather than later. At this rate, he wouldn’t have a choice on whether he was taking a nap or not. At the familiar sound of bells, he looked back down at the conversation.

‘Unfortunately. Well, I’ll be finished by the time we meet at the park. I know you usually like to sleep after a long night.’

The reply made Danny’s core feel fuzzy with happiness. Tucker always knows him so well. He doesn’t know what he did to get such a fantastic best friend. It was at times like these that Danny knew he was so glad that they were in this together. With two of his best friends at his side, it made being a vigilante so much easier to bear.

‘Thanks. Remember that not just the dead get to sleep. Don’t push yourself. Goodnight.’

With that, Danny felt comfortable with setting his phone down to get changed into pajamas. It ached on his back to take off his shirt, but Jazz would be disappointed in the morning if he didn’t. She always got that pinched look on her face when he didn’t take care of himself to her standards. Her standards weren’t exactly high up either so it made him feel extra upset when he missed the mark.

Being careful to not lie on his back, Danny got back into his bed. He curled himself into the blankets with a small smile. One last chime of bells rang out in the room, probably from Tucker saying goodnight back. Picking up his phone, he opened up the lock screen and looked at his messages.

Instead of a goodnight, his stomach dropped as he realized a different number messaged him. A very familiar number.

‘Hey dude! I know you had to get a new phone so this is me. Not only did I figure out how it’s spreading, I think I finally found a way to get rid of the virus.’

Practically throwing himself off the bed, Danny got to his feet. Both his back and his mind screamed at him as he looked over the message. He tapped back to the one he’d just been replying to, finding his heart stopping at the string of numbers. One of the area code numbers was a six instead of a nine. He’d been messaging a stranger this entire time.

Looking back at the messages he convinced himself that it was fine. He was vague enough to not be recognized. It wasn’t like this person was from Amity. They won’t recognize the correlation between him and Phantom. Surely the other person wouldn’t take his words at face value.

Worst comes to worst he can have Tucker take over his phone for a bit and make sure the other person can’t find out who he is. He hadn’t bought the phone or had it under his name in any way, so they could only find out from the conversation alone.

Breathing out a breath of air he kissed his night of sleep goodbye.

‘I’ll be over in a sec Tuck. I think I just made a mistake.’

#dc x dp #dp x dc #part one of two #Next part is Tim's side of things #I just love the idea of the chaos this would bring #Danny messages Tim thinking he's Tucker #And Tim messaging Danny thinking he's Jason #The idea was just too funny to me #I'll reblog with part two once I'm happy with it :)#ficlet

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allllium · 13 hours

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Hi! I have a Jason Todd x reader request if you’re still looking for those! A little angst, a little hurt/ comfort, a little protective Jason Todd.

Soulmate AU where soulmates can feel each others feelings. Jason is on patrol and reader is at their shared apartment when someone breaks in. Jason is not nearby so he feels a lot of feelings while he frantically tries to get home. Reader may get injured but they aren’t helpless, they fight back.

Thank you!!!

Break In

~ I hope this is what you were expecting, this was so cute to me <3

~ WC: 885 [Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort]

- Things go wrong while he's on patrol

Jason is a man that loves with his whole heart. He falls hard but it takes a long time. Once you win him over, he's yours. Growing up the way he did Jason didn't think he'd ever meet his soulmate, not the way Dick and Tim did. As terrible as it is he always assumed you were dead - he never felt that overwhelming feeling of someone else's emotions that people had explained to him all his life. Not until he died.

No one knows why his soulmate bond didn't kick in until he had come back to life, but that's how it happened. Not only did he have to deal with his own problems of coming back but he finally had to get used to yours too. And he wouldn't change it for the world.

“What's got you smiling like that?” Dick asks, from his position on the roof of an opposite building.

“What? A man can't be happy?” Jason continues smiling to himself as patrol goes on. Feeling your relaxed state through bond makes him stay relaxed himself.

Jason usually tries to stay as close to your shared apartment as possible, his paranoia holding him on a strong leash. However, he was forced to step more out of his comfort zone tonight, due to Dick's excessive begging.

He's almost ready to begin heading home when he feels it, overwhelming fear rushing down his spine. He becomes breathless as he quickly starts running home. Not staying long enough to hear Dick's questioning.

So many thoughts are running through his head he can't quite decipher them from one another. What if you're hurt? It's fine you probably just fell or something. But if all you did was fall you wouldn't be so scared? What if someone got in? What if someone from his nightlife is targeting you? What if he doesn't make it in time?

Still, almost halfway to your apartment, he feels as if he can't breathe. He feels as if his heart's in his stomach and all of time has stopped. Suddenly he stops. All feelings of fear and dread have dropped out of his body. Instead they've been replaced with feelings of relief and humor?

Why the fuck would you be feeling humor? As soon as he's stopped, he's moving again. Moving just as fast as moments before, he reaches the apartment in only a few minutes. After running up the stairs and slamming the door open with unbelievable force, he is hit in the face with a pile of dirt?

“Oh Jay! I'm so sorry I swear I didn't mean to throw dirt in your face.” You immediately run over to him and help get the dirt specks off his face.

“Then why did you?” He asks, sounding more confused than ever before. Only once he's done talking does he see the man laying face down on your living room carpet, surrounded with broken pieces of a potted plant. “And who is that?”

“I have no idea. He kinda broke in.” You tell him, moving to clean up the dirt and leaves covering the floor.

“Broke in? Is that why you were scared? That was a dumb question, don't answer that.” He takes off his helmet and sets it on the coffee table. Right next to the smear of blood. “What happened, sweetheart?”

“I don't even know, everything happened so fast. One moment I was falling asleep on the couch and the next I was smacking a guy with Bob.”

“Oh you smacked him with Bob.” Jason sounds strangely disappointed in the death of his potted plant you named Bob.

“I'm sorry he was the closest thing to me, I didn't think about it.” You stand up from the floor to look at the mess still sitting. From this angle Jason can see the bruise starting to form on your jaw bone.

“What happened here? Did he hit you?” He questions, grabbing your hand and pulling you close enough to inspect the bruise.

“Only once, there was a little fight. But I obviously won so it's fine.”

“It's not fine princess, you got hurt. And I could feel that you were scared.”

“I'm alright Jay.” You smile at him and place your hand on the side of his face. “I handled it.”

He can feel your pride run through him. “I'm glad, but that shouldn't have happened. We're moving.”

“No the fuck we're not. I like it here.” You cross your arms over your chest and raise your eyebrows at him.

“Baby, someone broke in.”

“Good. That means it likely won't happen again.”

“That's not how it works.”

“Oh c'mon. What are the chances that happens again?”

“Too high. We'll move somewhere in the country, away from people.” You chuckle at his suggestion.

“As great as that sounds, not yet. I'm alright Jay, I promise.”

“I'm teaching you self defense.” He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Why? I did great here.” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer.

“Because I can't promise you'll always have a Bob to protect you.”

“Fine, as long as we get to spend more time together.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. I love you.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too Jay.” You hum into his chest.

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starryevermore · 3 days

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the house of snow (22) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.

chapter summary: you and coriolanus adjust.

word count: 1,733

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: fluff, mention of morning sickness, pet name (petal), not proofread

The benefit of being pregnant was that Coryo and Coriolanus have seemed to become the best of friends. The drawback was that they became united in their overprotective tendencies. Coryo would insist that you stay in bed longer, and Coriolanus would sit on your chest to make sure you didn’t try to sneak away. Or Coryo would deny invitations to balls because of your morning sickness, and Coriolanus would attack the skirts of your gown to make sure it was in no occasion to be worn when you tried to convince your husband that you were well enough to be in attendance. It would have been infuriating if it wasn’t also so damned sweet. At least Coryo didn’t become the sort of husband who would keep you from your work. Probably because you were seated beside him and he could ensure that you weren’t doing anything that could potentially harmed yourself or the baby.

You leaned your head against Coryo’s arms as he shuffled around some papers on the desk. He looked down at you, his brows pinching together.

“Do you need to rest?” he asked. “Should I get the physician?”

You turned your head to press a kiss to his bicep. “Worry wart.”

“Forgive me if I’m concerned when my wife is entering the most dangerous part of her life—carrying another’s life,” Coryo said. He reached up, his cold hand resting on your warm face. His thumb stroked over the swell of your cheek. “I’m not going to take any chances when it comes to your health.”

There it was again. You knew of Coryo’s anxieties about your eventual pregnancy, but with everything happening so quickly, it was easy to be frustrated with his behaviors. With the exception of his adoration for you, Coryo kept his feelings so close to his chest. Even when it was obvious why he was being so overprotective, you sometimes forgot that part of him was still the broken boy who lost his mother. You took a breath, trying to steady your own overwhelming emotions.

“And I will tell you if I’m over-exerting myself. I may have never been with child before, but I know myself well enough to know when I’m pushing too far.”

A sigh escaped Coryo’s lips. “I just worry. I cannot lose you. In fact, I demand that I be the one to go first.”

You giggled. “I don’t think you get to demand things like that.”

“I am King. The only person who can tell me no is you, so, please, let me be the one to go first.”

You kissed his bicep again. “Very well. But you better live a long, long life with me before you go.”

“I wouldn’t dare sacrifice a single minute of a long life with you.”

“Would you sacrifice a minute to walk in the gardens with me?”

Coryo smiled and nodded. He stood first then held a hand out to you so he could aid you. Once you were standing, your hand slid to the crook of his arm and Coryo led you out of the office. He gave a curt nod to the Peacekeeper who was stationed outside the door and the two of you continued out of the palace and to the gardens.

The moment the sun hit your face, you couldn’t hold back your smile any longer. You had been holed up in the palace for the better part of the week, both because of Coryo and because of the morning sickness. It was nice to finally been the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair. Maybe pregnancy would be easier if you spend the entirety of it outdoors. You looked up at your husband. Even the weight on his shoulders seemed to be lifted once he was out of the palace.

You took a seat on a bench, and Coryo sat beside you. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s nice to be out here,” you said.

“It is. We should come out more often,” Coryo agreed. He caressed your face, a soft smile curving across his face. You leaned in, stole a kiss. “I am sorry if I have been overbearing.”

“It’s sweet. I am sure most husbands would only be concerned if the child I had was a boy,” you said.

“Boy, girl, I don’t care. As long as you and our child is healthy, I will be happy.”

Leaning your head against Coryo’s shoulder, you said, “I probably will take a step back from our public engagements, though. It was exhausting just coming down here, and we haven’t even left the estate.”

Coryo barked out a laugh. “Well, if I knew it would be that easy to get my way, I would’ve taken you to the gardens sooner.”

“Oh hush!” But still, you giggled. “One a month, I think, will suffice. Fewer than that when I am further along, of course, and if the physician advises otherwise.”

“Ah, so I could have also been bribing the physician?” Coryo teases.

You gave his chest a light smack. “Stop it, I’m being serious here.”

“I know, and I greatly appreciate that.”

“Now, what do you say we shirk our duties and spend the rest of the day in bed?”

Coryo grinned. “I thought you would never ask.”

You sat in the library, legs curled up under you, a book on your lap. Coriolanus sat at your feet, blinking curiously at you. You hadn’t intended for Coriolanus to have joined you, but despite you and Coryo coming to an agreement about your health, Coriolanus seemed to be certain that one wrong move would mean your end.

“Well, this is a very non-traditional royal portrait,” Coryo said, stepping into the library and up to the painter. He watched as the artist. took delicate care in painting you.

“This isn’t for my royal portrait,” you dismissed as you turned a page in your book. “We had that done weeks ago. Some finishing touches still need to be done before it can be unveiled, of course. But this is a personal portrait I’ve commissioned.”

Coryo looked over at you. His brow raised. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure you out. “Is that so? What do you need a personal portrait for?”

“Well, there will soon come a time when I am too tired and too pregnant to be in the office with you. I thought a portrait hung over the desk would serve as a good reminder of who you must consider in ever decision you make.”

The painter’s brush stilled. You watched as he slowly looked back at the King, undoubtedly waiting for a typical man’s rage—to yell at you for being so audacious, to destroy the painting, and to ensure that the painter never would be able to make art again. But your Coryo only laughed.

“As if I could ever forget you, petal. I was planning to bring our work into the bedroom—”

“There is nothing less attractive you could say than that.”

The color continued to drain from the painter’s face. Poor fellow. Perhaps you should tell him to take a break while you speak with your husband.

“Perhaps you are right.”

“No, I am. If you bring work into our bed, you will be swiftly removed to the Queen’s Chambers.”

Coryo smiled still. “Very well. Then I should thank you for being so courteous to not wholly deprive me of your presence.”

You flipped another page in the book. “I’m think of having another painting commissioned in a few months.”

The painter looked to you, his demeanor finally relaxing. “It would be an honor to paint you again, Your Majesty,” he said.

“Have you done any maternity portraits?” you asked. “I know it is as non-traditional as this portrait, of course, but I thought it would be another nice present for my husband.”

The painter glanced back at the King standing over his shoulder. “I am certain His Majesty will be pleased with anything you present him. Your Majesty.”

“Something in the gardens, I think. Coryo has these beautiful rose bushes. We should incorporate them somehow.”

“I love when you pretend I’m not here, petal,” Coryo said. He patted the painter’s shoulder. “If you continue to capture my wife’s beauty as well as you have been, you will be the official royal portraitists.”

You watched as the painter flushed. “It would be a tremendous honor to be bestowed such a title,” he said.

Coryo nodded at the painter then stepped around the easel. He walked over to you, bent down, and kissed you softly. “How much longer will this take?”

“Only an hour or so until we lose the sunlight,” you said. “Why? Are you becoming anxious without me by your side?”

Coryo smiled, his pretty blue eyes twinkling. “You know I always want you by my side.” He kissed you again. “I shall return in an hour then.”

“I eagerly await your return.”

He turned to Coriolanus and pointed a finger at the furry baby. “And I expect you to alert me if this ends even a second sooner.”

Coriolanus meowed in return.

As Coryo left the library, you found the painter staring at you. You expected him to resume painting, but he continued to stare. “Is there something the matter?” you asked.

“I have painted many couples in my time,” he said, “and I have never seen a husband as devoted as His Majesty. If it would please Your Majesty, I would love to come another day and paint a portrait of the two of you together.”

You smiled. “To add to our gallery of non-traditional portraits?”

“Of course,” he said. “Anything that the two of you wish for.”

Oh, you liked that. You grinned ear-to-ear as you asked, “And if I wished for another portrait of myself, done in the style of the goddess of old?”

He flushed. “Anything you wish, Your Majesty.”

“You are going to be quite handsomely paid by the time we are done with you.”

You turned back to your book, still smiling as you considered the various portraits you were going to gift your Coryo. He could give you a library, yes, but you were going to give him a gallery. If he didn’t appreciate art in all its glory before, he would soon enough.

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

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cosyvelvetorchid · 2 days

Note

Prompt: Buck and Tommy asking Maddie to be their surrogate.

I LOVED writing this one so much. I may actually add it to Ao3 as a oneshot.

I genuinely made myself cry at the end!

I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

It's funny how life works. You think you have a handle on things; that you know where things are headed, and then God, or the universe or something throws you a curveball. A big, giant, cruise ship shaped curveball, with enough power to turn your life completely upside down and give you exactly what you needed despite you having no idea you needed it.

Buck thought he would spend his whole life on the hamster wheel. The endless song and dance of dating, thinking he'd found someone he could be happy with, then they leave. And he loses enough couch.

Tommy had spent a lifetime hiding. Years of repressing who he was to protect himself. And when he finally came into his own and accepted who he was, it was too late. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he would be alone.

And then the captain of the 118 needs help and 2 people who - somehow despite having the job, the city they live in and people they know in common - had never actually met, flew into a hurricane together and everything changed.

Six months later they're sharing keys to eachothers homes.

One year and Buck is moving into Tommy's house.

And, 18 months in, when Tommy finally comes home from a month in the hospital - including 6 days in a coma where Buck thought he might actually lose the love of his life - after a helicopter crash, Buck barely makes it 5 minutes before proposing.

Two years and they're standing on Tommy's deck exchanging rings in front of everyone they love. They saw no point in waiting - they knew they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.

Three years in and they want to take the next big step. This one, however, was the biggest. The most terrifying: a family.

They'd spoken to a couple of surrogacy agencies but something was missing. Somehow they made it all seem so clinical. A business transaction. On top of that, in their research they had come across some horror stories of surrogate parents wanting to keep the baby despite it not being genetically theirs.

They talked and talked and talked about what options they had. And then Buck had remember something Connor had said about the reason they chose him as a sperm doner - they wanted someone they knew.

The answer was quite simple really. It was asking the question that was going to be difficult.

Three years and four months in they're sat in Maddie and Chimneys living room, nerves vibrating through they're entire bodies waiting for Maddie to say something.

"What?"

"We want to know if you would consider being a surrogate for us." Buck repeated.

"I.. Buck... I.. that's..." Maddie couldn't quite process what was being asked.

"Look, you know that we've been talking to agencies and trying to find the right one and sure they seem all above board and I'm sure that we could eventually find someone to help us build our family. But then it hit me - there's nobody on earth I.. we would trust to grow and nurture our baby more than you. Maddie you're a wonderful mother and I know that if you did agree to this that he or she would be loved and cared for and protected so much while their growing." He stopped to take a big breath. "But, we know its a huge ask, and you have as much time as you need to think about-"

"Yes." Maddie interrupted.

"What?"

Buck, Tommy and Chimney all sat forward to look at her.

"Evan, you are the most amazing little brother anybody could ever have. And you've been through so much in your life; so much pain and trauma and, all I ever wanted for you was to be happy. And then I found out you and my stupid husband were going to fly into a hurricane and I was so scared - and mad-" She added scowling at Chimney "-but you came back and not alone." She looked at Tommy fondly. "You found someone who makes you truly happy, and I have never been more proud or happy for you." She wiped a tear from her eye.

"So, if I can do this one thing for you, to make you even happier, then of course I will do it."

Buck wiped his own tears away that had started falling somewhere around the helicopter part.

"Really?" Buck said, not quite believing it. His chin was shaking and more tears threatened.

"Are you sure?" Tommy added. Maddie leant forward reaching out for each of their hands.

"I love you both. I'm sure."

Buck practically through himself at her, enveloping her into a hug.

"Thank you Maddie. For everything. My whole life."

"Hey I wanna get in on this." Tommy interrupted, gently peeling Buck from his sister so he could hug her.

"I don't know what else to say other than thank you. So so much."

Four years and 2 months in and they get the phone call. The bag has been packed by the door for weeks, the nursery decorated for a month and 2 men, wildly in love with other, who couldn't imagine life without the others existence, were on the way to meet they're baby.

***

They chose not to tell anybody that Maddie was in labour. They knew they would get nothing but an outpouring of love, but they wanted to spend a little while - even if it was only a few hours, thanks to Howard i cant keep a damn secret Han - after the baby was born to enjoy the moment as a family. However, there was one person Buck did call.

Bobby arrived at the hospital and sat in the labor and delivery waiting area. After a few minutes, Buck turns a corner; a tiny bundle in his arms wrapped in a pale yellow blanket. Bobby immediately walked over with a smile.

"Hey cap. I wanted to introduce you to someone.. meet our daughter - Brook Maddie Kinard."

Bobby stared at Buck for a moment, not quite fully comprehending what he had heard.

"Brook that.. that was my daughters name.."

"I know." Buck smiled softly. "We wanted to name her after you, and Bobby is a gender neutral name, but having two of you might get confusing, so we chose Brook instead. Is.. is that okay?"

Bobby's eyes filled with tears as he swallowed back the emotion.

"Yeah, kid. Yeah it's okay."

#buck x tommy #bucktommy #tommy kinard #911 abc #911 buck #evan buckley #911onabc #evan buck buckely #bucktommy fic #bucktommy prompts #tevan #kinley fic #thomas kinard

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itsabouttimex2 · 2 days

Note

Well I just woke up terrible after being drunk last night.so since I expect reader to probably be a teen and what

do we teens do,we party and drink.what about reader before being kiddnapped show up to a hangout with a headache,they causally say it’s because they were drunk.Wukong and Macaque reactions

Drunk Teen Reactions:

Ol’ Sun Wukong is not stupid, kiddo. This simian picks up on your “shitfaced” status the moment he eyes you wobbling through the front door, lurched forward and clutching at your forehead.

He’s not stupid. But stupidly well can this old pilgrim can act the part.

“Hey, kiddo! Bump your head, huh?” He casually asks, eyeing the redness of your eyes, whiffing the vomit on your breath.

Already, something in him is stirring, a protective rumbling emanating from deep inside his chest.

(How dare your parents let you do this to yourself? How could they let you drink, let you leave the house in this condition?)

Sun Wukong spits out a chuckle and comes over to swing an arm over your shoulders, a motion that he forces to be casual when something inside starts to scream at him to take your neck between his hands and start throttling a home address out of your mouth.

Instead, he leads the way back to his cozy little couch and nudges you down, grabbing a thin blanket and wrapping it around you.

“Why don’t you sit here and let me get you a drink? Something tells me you need lots of water, bud!”

“Hmmm,” you mumble, stirring the sounds on your tongue like a cocktail. “Kay. M’really tired, Monkey King. Headache, y’know,” you lie, smiling weakly up at the blur of ginger fur.

“I know it, bud!” The king lies back, your falsehoods exchanging easily. ‘You’re a kid’, he reminds himself. ‘No need to get angry.’

“So, buddy, why’d ya wanna hang out today, if you weren’t feeling so hot?

“Just wanted to,” is your next lie, lazy and relaxed. The discontent it inspires in him motivates the crushing of a little white pill in his hand, then a subtle palm tip that spills grainy powder into your coming-up cup of water.

He circles the counter twice, giving you a moment to laugh at his “pointless” pacing.

Giving the pill particles a moment to dissolve.

Then he’s right beside you, one hand squeezing your shoulder as he nudged the glass rim to your lips.

“Here,” Wukong softly offers, tilting the cup.

Too drunken to sniff out the still-melting grains of white at the bottom, you eagerly down as much water as possible.

And a sudden surge of drowsiness hits you, knocking you clean off of feet that you aren’t even standing on.

Then a sharp swell of delayed nausea blooms in your stomach and ripples to the back of your throat, a few moments after Wukong scoops you up.

Shifting and shuffling about until he’s got you comfortably nestled to his chest, Wukong finally smiles, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek:

“C’mon, bud- I’m gonna take you home.”

“Hey, Uncle Mac? S’it getting, uh, I dunno… hot in here…? My head’s dripping sweat. N’ my hand are real clammy. And my ears hurt.”

Yeah, your ass is cooked.

Maybe if you were a little less talkative, a little more alert, a little less unsteady- you might have been able to fool the sable simian.

But Macaque doesn’t need any kind of mystical power to see through your bullshit.

“Uh-huh. Yeah, the room is too hot, too bright, too loud. And you’re the only one complaining about it,” he snaps, poking your stomach with a clawed finger.

“You think you’re fooling me? I’m not one of your idiot friends, Y/N! You aren’t gonna trick me with a half-baked lie, and I’m not-“

“M’gonna puke,” you whimper aloud, cutting the monkey off as he leaps from the couch and goes racing for a trash bin.

Macaque can act villainous all he’d like- and to be fair, he is a pretty awful and unrepentant person (why do the Monkie Kids let him stick around when he hasn’t even apologized?) - but you turn him soft faster than sunlight melts shadows.

The Mystic Monkey rounds the corner with a little round bin, the metal shielded by a plastic bag that lines the rim.

Into your hands is the cylinder shoved, Macaque roughly slapping at your back in an awkward attempt to comfort you.

With an awfully unpleasant sound from the deepest confines of your throat, the contents of your stomach promptly upended into the sack.

No food. Just a puddle of sticky dark liquid.

“You have been drinking,” he hisses, now that you really have no ground to deny him. Really, you didn’t to begin with, but there was always plausible deniability to invoke.

“J-just a few. Tried something-“

Another splatter of rough and thick bile, stained brown with what he’s starting to think is rum.

He sighs and folds up his arms unhappily, tapping a glossy black boot against the floor. “Y/N. That stuff was way too strong for you, no matter what it was.”

“Mh-hm, I know. M’not gonna- eugh. M’not gonna do it again, promise.”

“No, you won’t,” he confirms, grabbing the scruff of your shirt and yanking it upwards. He’s strong enough to boost you free of the floor, stomping to a spare room. His tail snags the trash bin without trouble, hauling the soiled cylinder along with your prone and dangling form.

“In fact,” he tacks on, grimacing at the strong scent your breath carries, “you aren’t going to do anything. I’m grounding you for a week- and I’m taking your phone. tough luck, kiddo.”

He tosses you onto a bed that rises only a few inches off the ground, slinging a few blankets around your shaking form.

“Phone. Now.”

Fishing the little device from your pocket, you quickly it into the Macaque’s hand- he’s never been this stern with you before. Honestly? It kind of scares you.

A beep sounds, catching your attention- already, the ancient demon is initiating a call.

“Listen close- no, you don’t know me, no, Y/N isn’t hurt. They’re tired and sick -shut up and listen- they’re tired and sick and staying at my place tonight. I don’t care. They’re staying until this sickness passes. Don’t call back.”

(Realms above and below, it hurts to play the “no violence” card here, even though he was just saving it for later. What Macaque really wants to do is quietly follow you home and destroy every cubic ounce of alcohol inside. And then maybe grind your irresponsible parents against the floor after he’s coated it in glass shards.)

He hits the “end call” button with a little too much force, dangerously straining the phone’s screen. Thankfully, it leaves no cracks or scratches.

Macaque turns back to you with a frown, shaking his head- only to soften slight when the sight of your nauseated and quivering form fills his eyes.

“Don’t… don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes, Y/N. You can’t… ugh, fine. I’ll get you something to drink.”

He stomps off to the kitchen immediately, fighting back the urge to comfort you. Just water. And some crackers. And then he’ll let you stew in that little bed for a few hours with your filthy trash bin.

Maybe the wretched smell and lack of painkillers will teach you a lesson. Or it’ll leave you vulnerable and quaky, desperate for attention and affection.

Thinking on the possibilities, Macaque pulls the guest-room key from his pocket, twirling it around in one hand.

It was going to be nice, having you all to himself.

It was going to be even nice getting your parents out of the picture.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque

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brighttears · 2 days

Text

Cleardune Chapter 6: Final Frontier

Joel Miller x f!reader

no physical description, no use of y/n

Summary: Suddenly, the day of reckoning is upon you, when you meet Joel in the barn to find him with his bags packed. You’re forced to ask him the question that’s been tugging at your brain since you first met him, unsure of what his answer will be. Will he stay? Will he go? Will he take you with him?

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: pet names obviously (darling, sweetheart, love, angel), cunnilingus

A/n: the end!!! Part of this is actually the thing that started the whole fic lol. Hope y'all have enjoyed reading this as much as i have writing it <<33

Series masterlist

—

You’re in the same position you’d fallen asleep in when you wake up the next morning to the streaming daylight, feeling like you could use an extra hour or two, but rested enough to get yourself out of bed and on to cook breakfast, humming to yourself as the eggs fry.

“What’re you all happy about this morning?” Pa grumbles when he walks in, poking his cup forward as he sits down at the table.

“Just, um, can’t get Bo’s piano playing out of my head.” You lie as you pour his coffee.

“Mm.” Is his gruff reply as he takes a loud sip.

What, I can’t be happy? Had tempted your lips, but it was easier to let go of this morning, a flippant who cares? following the thought. So, you just continue with the eggs, settling into the silence of breakfast.

—

As soon as Joel enters the saloon, he gets a few greetings, now suddenly popular in the eyes of the regulars that you realize might be just as bored to death in this town as you are. He throws up waves, but his eyes are set on you as he comes to lean over the bar with a smile on his face.

“Listen,” he starts, keeping his tone for your ears only, “I’ve got some things to tend to this afternoon, but I’ll be at the barn at dusk, meet me there.”

Smiling at the idea of him making time for you, you nod. With a smirk, Joel winks, and then he’s gone back through the saloon doors.

It’s a bit disappointing, having him come and go so quick, but, the thought of him waiting for you at the end of the day is enough to take the edge off of the bore that the saloon never ceases to be, though everyone seems to be in just a tad higher spirits. It, you then realize, is Joel’s effect, having raised so many hearty laughs the day before, and you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips as you recognize the graceful cheer that he trails through town.

—

Dusk is just setting in when you head to the barn, a smile on your face, waiting to see Joel’s. But, once you do, there’s something about him that makes it fall, head tilting in question. You’re met with no smile, Joel instead passing his tongue over his teeth behind closed lips, arms crossed and shoulders unusually hunched as he leans against Petunia’s stall, looking at the floor. The last thing you notice, the detail that stops you in your tracks, is the clearly packed satchels sitting next to his feet.

Your lungs squeeze. “You’re leaving.”

Joel turns himself to you slowly, moving his hands to his hips. He keeps his eyes on the ground. “I wanted to say goodbye before I do.” After a pause, time and your lungs frozen, he opens Petunia’s stall and brings her out, already tacked up and ready to go.

You take quick steps to him, but they’re uneven and stuttered, all of you reeling. Words fail you.

You knew very well this was coming, but the weight of it hadn’t hit you until this moment. Maybe you’d been protecting yourself, or maybe you were just fooling yourself, believing in the back of your mind that he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t leave you. He couldn’t. But here he is. And it seems so easy for him to.

“Well, where are you going?” You ask, breathing unevenly, though you know the answer. You feel small and sound smaller, the desperation audible no matter how much you try to hide it.

Joel pauses, both hands on the saddle. He doesn't look at you when he speaks. “Don’t know. Never do.”

You don’t even let a beat go by before you ask, “Can I come with you?”

There it is, hanging in the air. Finally, you’ve said it. It’s a confession and a request all in one. Awaiting his reply, your heart beats against your ribcage like a prisoner at the bars. The seconds that pass feel like ages.

“Your pa wouldn’ like that very much.”

Replying quickly, you huff, waving your hand dismissively, “He’ll find someone else to mind the bar, he won’t even know I'm gone.” Joel turns to you, “Now, you and I both know that’s not right. He sure will know you’re missin’. And he sure will care. He’s your pa.” He ends with assertion, as if him being your father meant anything more than blood.

“He doesn’t care about me!” You rebut, gesturing your arms out in flustered frustration. “All he cares about is that I work for him. I’m just a body, who’s mother died.”

“Now why would you say that? That man’s purpose is to protect you. Take care of you. A father loves his daughter. No matter what.” He assets, almost stern.

“He doesn’t want me, Joel.” You reply, just as stern. “He told me so.” After a long beat, feeling like this is your last chance to say anything at all to him before he’s gone forever, you ask the only question left. It comes out mousy, “…Do you want me? Do you want to be with me?”

Again, your question hangs. For a few solid moments, all he does is look you evenly in the eyes. Then, in one swift movement, his arms are around your waist, and he kisses you.

He tastes just the same as he always does, but you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it. Joel’s warm arms encapsulate you—everything about him does, completely.

This is the man you want to be with until the day you die. It occurs to you then, sure, true, and certain.

When he pulls away, still close enough to feel the breath from his lips on yours, voice quiet and low, he speaks, “I do.” The words swirl and echo in your mind; a gift, it feels like—something finally for you. One thing in this life that’s yours, that means a choice for you. It feels like freedom. To be with Joel, anywhere, for as long as you live. You don’t care how rough the road gets, you don’t care how cold the desert is at night, that there are dangers out there that you’ve never seen, that you’ll never see your father again, this town again, that you’ll never set another foot in that damn bar. You want to leave it all behind. You want to leave with him. No one else. All these years you’ve daydreamed about running away, you could never do it. But with him, you can.

“Then take me with you.” You whisper back. “Please.”

“You don’t know what’s out there.” His voice is low and full of warning, but his arms are still around you, so you quickly reply, “I don’t care, as long as I’m with you.”

Slowly, he kisses you again, simply resting his lips against yours, but harder than before, and when he pulls back, his breath is heavier.

He nods once. “Go get your things, and meet me back here.” He whispers lowly, like a secret, and you’re instantaneously giddy. “I’ll be waiting.” He holds you for another moment before concluding, “I won’t leave without you.” And you swear you’ll remember those words for as long as you live, just the way he said them. Then he loosens his arms, and you nod before pulling away and walking quickly out of the barn.

You run back to the saloon in increments, intermittently losing control of your excitement. As you pass through the town, even though you know you’ll never see any of it again, you don’t take a single look around you. You’re ready to go. To start a new life.

Climbing the tree back up to your window, you think it’s the one thing you’ll miss. This tree that you’ve watched grow since you were a girl, that has grown with you as you’ve climbed it, the one thing in this whole damn town that’s been supporting you all these years, even if it’s only been your weight.

Inside, you hurriedly throw the belongings you deem worth taking into the satchel that’d remained empty for years. In front of the bureau, you pause, dancing your finger over the framed picture of your mother.

You wonder what she would think of this, what she would think of Joel. You think she’d like him. If she knew how things are now, you think she’d want you to go. There’s nothing for you here, and a big world wide world out there, just waiting for you to go see it. With the man you love, and the only man who has ever truly made you feel loved.

Carefully, you wrap the picture in your nicest dress and shove it into the bag before hastily climbing back out of your window and down the tree, letting yourself drop to the ground. For a moment, you pause again, running your hand over the bark. Your fingers run over the old notches left on the trunk where you scrawled your name here some years ago with the big buck knife you stole from your father. Nearly cut yourself doing it, but it got the job done. And although the jagged lines have mutated your name some as the tree has grown with them, here it remains. Your one true mark on this town.

You leave it there, and let yourself run to the barn.

Joel is waiting, as promised, leaning against Petunia’s stall with her still out and ready. When he sees you, he cracks a smile, those lips the only thing you can see from the orange barn light over his hat. You stop just a few feet from him, waiting for him to tell you again that he wants you, that he’s taking you with him.

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” He asks, still with that smirked smile as he steps away from the stall.

“Yes.” You answer simply, feeling yourself grin.

“Well, come on, then.” He cocks his head towards Petunia, and your grin widens as you come up to her for Joel to hoist you on before mounting himself in front of you.

As Petunia starts out of the barn, he looks back at you and smiles, and you wrap your arms around him, resting your cheek on his back, and close your eyes.

You’ll wait to open them until the town is out of sight. You don’t care for it at all anymore. No sentimentality, no bitter sweet. It’s already gone to you. Now, all there is is you, Joel, Petunia, and the open country.

You’ve never been more than a few miles outside of town, but as you ride out into the night, that cool breeze washing over your face, it feels like it’s where you belong.

You belong with Joel. Anywhere, with him.

More than anything, you want this new life. You want adventure. And you want Joel. It feels like this is how it was always meant to be; you were so quickly taken by him because meeting him is what you’re meant for. Your heart knew it before your mind did, and thank god for its persistence, and for your surrender. Later, you’ll ask him if he feels the same. At this point, there’s little fear left in you of what you can say to him. Your heart and brain are finally in agreement that it’s not just you being foolish, he’s not taking you for no reason. You’re with him now, and if he wasn’t ready for that, if he didn’t want it, you know he wouldn’t do it. But here you are, riding off into the night, this cowboy with his girl on his back.

Still with your eyes closed, you kiss his leathered back, and squeeze him tighter.

After only a few minutes out of town, Joel answers every question by telling you, “There’s no one else I’d dare take with me out here. Never even honestly considered it before. But you, my darlin’... you’re the one. And I swear on everythin’, I will keep you safe. …Darlin’, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.” Feeling Petunia slow to a halt, you open your eyes to him turning his head back towards you. “I’m telling you that now,” he says, looking at you over his shoulder, “because I’m givin’ you the chance to change your mind. I’ll take you right back home.” He pauses, sighing as he glances to the town behind you. “So, here’s your chance.”

All you can help but do is smile.

“My plan is to stay with you as long as you’ll let me.”

Joel grows a wide smile back, those brown eyes twinkling, “That’d be a very long time, sweetheart.”

“God willing, a very, very, very long time.”

He chuckles. “God willing.” He sighs again, then says, “C’mere,” so you lean up to smack a kiss to his lips, “Alright, let’s ride, sweet thing.” He taps his heels on Petunia’s sides, “Hold on!” And you’re off, racing through the desert, your face hurting as you laugh.

—

You rode through the night, exhilarated by the growing distance between you and Cleardune keeping you laughing and grinning until your cheeks couldn’t take it anymore. Just after sunrise, you’d spotted a small piece of land, a dilapidated house next to a barn in even worse shape. As you rode up to investigate, you found that it was abandoned. Joel told you that there’s a dotting of houses like this over the flatlands you’d wandered into, where the drought that hit a few years ago wrecked the small population of farmers. So, you decided to take a break and set Petunia up in one of the weak but still standing stalls in the large barn. Then, with nothing but a smile, Joel took your hand and led you to the ladder up into the hayloft to guide you to the large window at the front, pointing out with his other hand on the small of your back.

“See that?”

After spotting it, you turn to him. “Is that Cleardune?” You ask, wonderstruck.

He grins and nods. “Sure is. You know what that means? You belong to the open country now, darlin’.

Turning to enclose yourself in his arms, you correct him, “I belong to you now.”

He huffs a chuckle, “I wouldn’t say it like that.”

“I would.”

Joel tilts his head, the edge of his lip tugged up, looking at you through his lashes. “Would you now?”

“I would.”

He pauses, looking over your face with that same expression. He looks a bit floored, but not perturbed. No, as his hands tighten on your waist, he looks galvanized. And just like that, you're laid over a hay bale, dress pushed up to your neck, one warm, calloused hand on your breast, the other holding onto your thigh slung over his shoulder, and you’re cumming against his mouth.

As you heave breaths, you flutter your eyes open to the sunlight bathing you from the window. “Oh,” you let out absently, sighing at the warmth it spreads over your bare chest. You let your head fall back into the hay, unbothered by its scratch against your back.

Content. Completely and utterly content.

Joel lays wet kisses up your stomach, and you sigh again, ruffling his hair with a lazy hand.

And then you hear it, the words flowing into your ears like a song.

“I love you.”

Your hands climb through his hair, a deep breath raising your chest against his face. “You love me?” You ask quietly, eyes pulling open.

“I love you.” He repeats in a whisper, his lips making their way up to your neck, scruff against your skin. “I love you.”

Realizing his words, you take his face up to your hands. His eyes are half shaded by his lids, shining lips parted as he looks over your face.

It felt like you’d said it before, having been thinking it for so long, but you remember that you haven’t yet.

“I love you,” it jumps out, and then your lips are all over his, pecking in between more “I love you, I love you, I love you.”’s.

Joel slides his arms under your back, the cool leather of his jacket replacing the course hay, and lays his torso over yours while kneeled in front of the hay bale. With a sigh, he presses his lips against yours, resting there for a moment before he pulls away and turns his head to bring his cheek down to rest his cheek on your chest. Closing your eyes, you sigh at the feeling, running your hands through his hair.

It’s bliss. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

When he speaks, his soft tone rumbles through your chest.

“I almost made the biggest mistake of my life last night. Thought I could be without you, but every time I think about what it’d be like to be out here knowin’ you were still in Cleardune… I dunno.” He pauses, “Probably would have come right back for you.”

“I was so afraid I’d never see you again, Joel.” You whisper while you play with his hair, the expired pain and worry still audible in your voice.

“So was I.”

“Then why did you almost do it? Why did you try to disappear?”

He pauses. “I was afraid. Guess I hadn’t grown up as much as I thought I had. But I fixed it, honey. Learned my lesson with you.”

“What were you so afraid of?” You inquire softly, ghosting a braid in his locks.

“I guess… I’ve never had a partner out here. Always been alone. And I know how to handle myself, but if I’ve got someone else… someone I love, I just… don’t have any practice trying to keep someone else safe, too. But I swear, darlin’,” he whispers, holding you a little tighter, “you won’t come into any harm while I have you with me.” He pauses, drawing soft spirals over your skin. “I’ll teach you how to shoot. How to ride. Hey, we can get you your own horse, baby. Maybe find that stallion back East.” You chuckle. “Teach you how to hunt n’ how to handle trouble in town. How to keep the peace, but how to know when it’s a lost cause. Teach you how to fight. How to run. Everythin’, darlin’, everythin’ you need to know. And maybe we’ll… we’ll find somewhere to settle down. That’s what we should really do. Hm?” He asks, looking up at you as he moves his arm from around your back to take your wrist in his hand to kiss.

Looking back down at him, you whisper, watching his lips hover over your skin, “I thought you never wanted to settle down? Get too restless?”

Joel sighs again, then whispers back, “You know what, darlin’, I think it was just that… I always felt like I was searchin’ for somethin’, but I could never find it. And I think it was you. I think you were that thing. And I’ve found you. And I wanna keep you. And I wanna settle down with you. Get a plot of land somewhere. And live out the rest of my days with you.”

Leaning your head back, you close your eyes and smile wide, close to chuckling at the sheer joy humming in your chest.

“Wha’d’ya think, sweetheart?”

“I think you’re a dream come true, Joel Miller.”

Chuckling, Joel wraps his arms back around your back to hold you tighter. “No, no, that’s all you, love. S’ all you.” He pauses. “Just a shame it took this damn long to find you. But I did. I finally found you, my darlin’. My angel. My final frontier.”

You laugh, feeling the reverberation against his weight over your torso. “That would make you my first. Told you, I’ve never been out of that town.”

“Well, I guess I should show you some of the country before we find somewhere to stay.”

“I would very much like that.” Still smiling, you sigh, “God, there's a whole world out there I’ve never seen.”

“I’ll take you. Darlin’, I’ll show you the stars—hell, I’d ride us right up into the moon if you asked me too.”

“No,” you chuckle lightly, leaning your neck to look down at him again and placing your hands in his hair, “down here’s just fine. Just as long as I’m with you.”

“God,” Joel sighs, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “never stop saying that, darlin’.”

“Never stop saying what?”

“That you wanna be with me.”

You kiss the top of his head and whisper, “I’ll tell you every day for the rest of my life.”

Joel sighs, kissing your bare skin again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” Joel speaks, barely above a whisper, but it swirls like smoke inside your head. “God, I love you.”

And this is it, you think to yourself as you run your hands through his hair, his head shifting to press soft lips against warm skin, this is what you were waiting for. And it was worth it, all those dead days, there was a reason for every one of them, and it's the smell of hay, the dust particles dancing in the streaming golden sun, the arms holding you close, and your one and only true love whispering, I love you, I love you, I love you, darlin’, I love you, and your voice finally coming out to whisper back, I love you, I love you, I love you, Joel Miller, I love you.

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fellhellion · 11 months

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Headsoup thoughts about Miguel and his early relationship with physical retaliation to bullies and fear, but man. Tyler Stone telling Miguel on the way to boarding school that if he does something to jeopardise George O’Hara’s chances for promotion on the back of Miguel’s efforts, it’s his fault when that anger is taken out on Conchata and Gabriel. Xina, who was only a child and didn’t know, trying to encourage Miguel to stand up for himself and hit back and him saying yeah he’s scared when she teases him. Miguel saying he wanted so badly to strike his father but was afraid he’d kill him, when he wanted George to suffer every indignity of age and decline.

#something something George’s very life prolonging procedures - had he lived - would’ve been at least partially paid for by the very #advancement he gained off Miguel’s back. and thus you would’ve had SOME hand in your father clinging to life #only for him to up and die on you #it also creates this interesting retrospective to how Miguel speaks of him letting Vulture splat #he reckons w the fact he views allowing vulture’s death as a just thing to do. to prevent suffering #idk idk SOMETHING in how miguel allowed himself to remain blind to alchemax’s atrocities and submitted (however waspishly) to the whims of #that authority #because being important to people felt good. only to have to reckon with the suffering he’s caused and rejecting being an agent of it #anymore. the fact that his physical retaliation against authority is rooted in protecting people - in being so angry about the suffering #being perpetuated there and being disgusted w himself for having been a part of it w his eyes closed #something something you finally hit back but it’s to protect #it’s not to oppress #you refuse to become your father #tunes talks 2099

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girlfox · 30 days

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#𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 ⠀⠀(⠀ⅰ.⠀)⠀⠀𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂��𝐄𝐑:⠀⠀ಇ⠀⠀oh-kae!#cw negative #tw negative #cw vent #tw vent #tagging this for people who don't want this kind of negative content on their feeds!#remember to protect urself first.#and i'll keep this super vague not to be like . . dramatic? but just because i only need to get this off my chest.#but i need to vent so badly because i'm reaching a breaking point. i can /feel/ the anxiety building up in my throat.#i've been 10000 % vibing on my own and really comfy here! i've been loud n' proud about that.#but ever since i've been active here it feels like old issues are rising up and it feels like borderline harrassment.#like. under the radar.#i know this isn't anything anyone is going to have noticed or seen or anything.#but talking with friends who do notice and stuff. i just hit a bad point all of a sudden.#i'm not going to openly talk about problems here on the dash of course.#but drags my hands down my face. i just want to do my own thing man.#i have more time to be here now that school is done for a couple months & i just wanna enjoy it to the fullest hah #i'm finally back into enjoying ahri the way i used to!#but. i dunno. i might bury my head into my inbox & retreat into some video games or something.#i don't really need reassurance or affirmations because this isn't a pity post or anything.#i feel validated by the amazing friends and interactions i get here as is! so thank you to all of you. seriously. ily #but good lord.#i dunno i just wanted to vent and i will delete this later.

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icharchivist · 8 months

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god Merlin 1x04 is still peak. Merlin drinking poison instead of Arthur to save his life. Arthur disobeying his father to look for a cure no matter what. Merlin spending his whole suffering, dying, mumbling Arthur's name in his sleep begging for him to come back lest he falls into a trap. Arthur refusing to give up. Merlin casting magic to save Arthur and lead him away from the cure to save him instead. Arthur refusing to listen and endangering himself for the cure still. Arthur smuggling and hiding the cure, begging his father to give Merlin the cure even if Arthur had to be locked away for months as long as saving Merlin was possible. Arthur still smuggling the cure back to Merlin at all cost. episode 1x04 my beloved.

#also Morgana's 'you gotta do what's right and damn the consequences'#And Gwen helping Arthur smuggling the cure to Merlin #ANYWAY i was sewing and needed something in the back so i did good on my desire to rewatch merlin #i still think it's so funny how fast they went from 'look i knew you were a prat i didn't know you were a royal one'#to 'we'd die for each other but we keep begging the other not to do it for us'#episode 4 always hit like a trunk i just muah #ALSO SORRY BUT EP 1 MERLIN BEING LIKE #'why should i be protecting anyone who wants to kill Arthur? in fact i'd rather give them a hand'#is the WORST LINE TO PUT IN AN OPENING OF THE SHOW WHEN //THIS// IS THE FINALE #NEVER RECOVERING #sorry huh #ichatalks #ichablogging merlin

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sunsetzer · 1 year

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My questions regarding Setzer's everything continue as he somehow managed to summon what I'm pretty sure was the warring triad and KO everything on the field (including the party) on our way up to the floating continent.

#his reunion quest in the wor emotionally wrecked me but in a good way #did not think i could love him more but i somehow do #really every character i meet again in the wor does something to make me go omg i love themmmm #edgar pretending he didnt know them to trick a gang of thugs he had locked up into leading him into the castle so he could rescue everyone #not even caring if they took the treasure all he cared about was saving the residents trapped inside #finding setzer in a pub getting plastered because hes lost his ship and his friends and talking him into coming with us was top tier content #the flashbacks in the tomb as hes leading you to the falcon hit me hard #also locke trying to revive rachel and her coming back for a brief second to thank him for being in her life ashahhfhshfus #and terra learning the meaning of love from the kids shes protecting!!! ahhhh!!!!#shit went from 0-60 really quick and got way darker but man is this game getting really good #final fantasy 6 #setzer gabbiani

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shegetsburned · 2 months

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Uhm hi 👋🏻 could you please write something about Gojo, Nanami, Geto and Toji's reactions to their significant other's life being threatened? Like heartbreaking stuff that ends up well? 👉🏻👈🏻

LOSING YOU w. jujutsu kaisen men ˚ 𐙚 ⋆.

.angst/fluff.

• — ft. satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto, toji fushiguro. took me ages to get to but i’m a sucker for angst, so i just had to do it. thanks for the request, luv! • — content. their reaction to your life being threatened. • — tw. mentions of death, violence, murder.

satoru gojo

₊˚⊹ ᰔ as soon as your name came out of yaga’s mouth, satoru wasted no time and vanished. he searched every place he knew, every corner and alley, in a matter of seconds. there was no coherent thought in his mind while he teleported. the only thing he could clearly see was you. that you were in danger and that you needed to be saved. that he couldn’t let you die and that he previously had so clearly promised that he’d never let anything happen to either you or him.

a liar, he thought he was. how could he have let this happen? what was the point of being the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t even protect you. he really did believe nothing could happen to you if he was by your side. he’d murder anyone who’d ever try to harm you without even looking back. this time wouldn’t be any different.

he felt his heartbeat reach his ears when he finally felt you near an ally, back pressed against the wall. a hand on your chest, crimson blood dripping down your shirt. jerky breaths escaping your trembling lips. this curse had taken his sweet time with you. it wanted to feed and you were a tasty dinner. there were marks of struggle on your shredded clothes and bruised wrists.

nothing came out of satoru’s mouth when his eyes landed on you. he just couldn’t believe he had let this happen to you. his expression was stoic. when he slowly approached you the curse immediately felt it. the strongest sorcerer doesn’t let most curses escape from his grasp. but this one.. this one would inevitably suffer the most.

it wasn’t long before the curse felt his body being pushed against the wall in front of you. a yelp was heard when his skull hit the wall head-on. you could hear the bones crack and send shivers through your entire being. that’s when you realized your boyfriend had finally arrived. but when you lifted your head trying to catch a glimpse of his eyes he had already turned all his attention towards the threat.

you had never seen him like this. he was lifeless. his eyebrows were lowered and pulled closer together. you could’ve sworn his eyes bulged. he was enraged. he didn’t even bother to raise his arm towards the curse, he just advanced and slowly- very slowly crushed every little bone in the monster’s body.

you were out of breath but couldn’t shift your gaze from the horrible spectacle in front of you. the wall caved under the pressure as gojo used his infinity to create a space between him and the curse which only crushed it more. it was cruel. cruel but deserving considering the circumstances.

the curse’s body was retracting upon itself with no way out. a loud and piercing cry followed the sound of the wall being crushed under the weight of the infinity. the only thing you found the strength to mumble under your breath was your boyfriend’s name.

after a few seconds, black smoke emanated from the crushed bricked wall with no curses in sight. no remains, nothing. your heavy breath filled the air as satoru finally sighted. you could barely see his eyes when he turned to you, crouching down at your height.

his violence had surprised you, but you were so relieved. tears ran down your cheeks when you tried to speak. you tried to reach for satoru when he crouched but he was quicker and wrapped one arm around your back and another supporting the back of your head. he held you close and it made you feel at home. his scent and touch reassured you when you buried your head in his neck.

still silent, he held you tightly close to his chest. his hand threaded your hair, a slight pressure applied so he could make sure you were okay. you could feel all his anger slowly fade when you returned the gesture with one hand against his chest. your tears slowly fading as you felt the warmth of satoru around your body.

“satoru..”

he shushed you. always pulling you closer and closer to him. he wasn’t going to leave this time. he’d never let you endure something like this ever again.

“i’m right here. you’re safe. lend me your pain, baby. i’ll carry you the rest of the way.” he whispered into your ear, caressing your back so that you’d warm up to his touch. you could feel he was slowly coming back to being the satoru you knew.

you were safe in his arms but guilt still ran deep inside of him. he promised to take you to shoko as soon as possible, resting by your side until you were completely healthy. he also promised himself to assign you with an escort when he couldn’t be here to protect you.

satoru’s only concern was you and he’d never let anything get in the way of your well-being ever again. if he had to show every curse on this earth that he’d destroy them if they ever tried to get near you, he’d have no hesitation in doing so. you were safe. you knew it, now.

kento nanami

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you were the most important person for nanami. his one and only. his love, his soul, his heart. he would’ve resigned in an instant if you hadn’t begged him to keep his job as a sorcerer. but knowing his personal feelings about loss, you knew it’d break him if something came to happen to you. that is precisely why you always acted cautiously, never putting yourself in harm's way and living your life as safely as you could. unfortunately, this time, your efforts had been in vain.

when he saw you, helplessly struggling at the mercy of a first-grade curse wrapped around your throat, all he could think about was how much he regretted not having taken a safer job and bought you that house you both talked about so much on a beach in malaysia.

he knew he needed to act quickly or the curse would finish you off as easily as it had taken you hostage.

you wiggled your feet when it lifted you off the ground, hands desperately scratching and holding onto his grasp so he’d let go of his claws around your throat. you could feel kento’s eyes on you but couldn’t even dare to look at him or do anything else than push against the claws so they wouldn’t crush your neck further.

therefore, you couldn’t see him remove his tie, wrapping it tightly around his knuckles. he knew he couldn’t use a weapon, scared that the curse would use you as a shield. his fists were more precise and his sword wasn’t enough to unleash the rage he had built up inside.

he slowly made his way to the curse but, with every step, its hold crushed you more. you were so scared, almost out of breath with tears rolling down your cheeks. these cheeks kento had kissed so many times to take away your pain. you were hoping he’d do it once more.

once he realized that the threatening stance he was in only alarmed the curse, kento stood down, lowering his curse energy’s flow to an almost invisible state. he made himself look harmless in the face of the monster which slowly but surely helped you to breathe better.

you knew your husband. you had heard it several times from yuji and Ino and you also personally knew that he always handled things the right way. this is was kept you from breaking down and letting go of your almost meaningless fight against the curse’s strength. you had never doubted him and you wouldn’t now. he built his strength with yours. that’s what kento had told you the day he had asked for your hand.

his eyes were locked with your struggling gaze. despite him trying to contain himself, his veins stood out from how tightly he clenched his fists. he would’ve massacred the curse right here and now if it hadn’t cowardly taken you hostage. nanami might have seemed harmless in the moment but his anger was apparent.

without thinking much about it, he threw his sword aside, lifting his hands above to show complete surrender to the curse.

“let her go.”

the furious and deep voice of your husband made you whine, finally hearing a sign from him. unfortunately you could feel that the curse was still hesitating. the clinging of the sword on the ground had startled it which only showed kento how weak it really was. it also showed that it did not want to fight but preferred to flee.

this strange demeanor encouraged kento to step closer, hands still in the air, and that’s when he saw his opening. the curse was looking left and right to find an escape which diminished his attention and loosened his grip around your throat. it lasted just a few seconds but it was enough for you to breathe out his name.

“kento..”

that’s when he drew his fist and used all of his force and cursed energy to deliver a devastating blow right into the curse spirit’s face. it was sent flying several meters away after dropping you so kento could easily catch you and keep you from hitting the ground, arms wrapped around your body.

it only took one hit. one punch to obliterate half of the curse’s body in pieces. the shock had been so violent that your savior’s knuckles bled on your shirt through his yellow tie.

“mine.”

you could feel his heavy breath against your neck when he got on one knee, holding you against him, a hand carefully placed on your cheek. his thumb caressing your skin and whipping the single tear you shed.

“my love..”

kento’s expression had returned to the one you knew. the calm but stoic gaze he wore returned your breath to a normal pace. his arms pulled you always closer to him and he felt his sense come back when your fingers brushed the hand he had placed on your shoulder. you couldn’t talk or you’d burst into tears so you smiled in admiration.

he placed his warm lips upon your forehead and you could feel how scared he had been, maybe even more scared than you. his eyes were stuck on your finger, the one that wore his ring.

losing haibara had crushed his soul to tiny little pieces and you had been the one to delicately put them all back together with your innocent kindness and understanding. he’d be damned if he was to let something happen to the one who saved his heart.

this was the first and last time your life had been threatened, thanks to the careful supervision of kento but also his promise to quit his job and buy that house. he hadn’t realized how much he already had with you and would curse anybody who tried to take his happiness away from him ever again.

suguru geto

₊˚⊹ ᰔ you trusted him. you trusted that, if you were in pain, suguru would find ways to eradicate that pain. you trusted that if you showed any sign of distress, he’d be by your side helping you in any way he could. most importantly, you trusted that he’d protect you no matter the cost and no matter the consequences, because he was devoted to you. if there was something he’d burn the whole world for, it’d be you.

these men, these humans, these pathetic monkeys that had attacked you on your way home never knew what would come for them. you were beaten and almost lifeless when the men started searching for any kind of money or jewelry you had on your person. of course, you had resisted. that’s the only thing you could do, because you were so scared that if you had willingly complied to their demand they would’ve asked for more.

being helpless was scary. you thought it wouldn’t be so scary with suguru by your side, but right now you had never been more terrified. you also knew that your boyfriend would never forgive the men that harmed you, so the only thing you could do was wait. because you did not doubt him. you never doubted him. you knew he’d come for you.

when the men had finished checking your bags and any belongings you had on your person, one approached you, lifting your chin with a vulgar smile. you couldn’t even look at him in the eyes but hit bullseye when you spat directly in his face making him drop you in anger. he cursed under his breath before tightly grabbing you by the collar. a hand in the air so it’d land on your face.

with a weak and desperate groan you turned your face away but was surprised when the slap never landed.

when you reopened your eyes to look at your aggressor, he had his own hands wrapped his throat. it’s like he was struggling to breath, a firm pressure was crushing his neck as he tried to break free from this invisible hold.

when you realized what might be happening you tried to take a peak at the other men who were all struggling with the same problem. scratching and screaming at the invisible menace that were preventing them from breathing.

under the distressed shoutings, a cocky laugh attracted your gaze. when you turned to look at the source, your face lit up at the sight of suguru. but he didn’t look as relieved as you were. his laugh was dark, almost cynical. it was psychotic and displeased.

you had seen him despise simple-minded humans before but killing them was a different story. he wasn’t only taking their lives, he was torturing them. their necks were getting slowly squashed by the curses he had sent on them.

seeing you struggle to breath, helpless at the hand of those who had harmed an innocent girl like you. his girl. it had awaken another kind of hatred in him. a hatred that had been buried deep for so long.

suguru took one good look at you, searching for your eyes but you were incapable of keeping them open. you were just glad your boyfriend had arrived. you knew you were safe when you rested your eyes, a small smile of satisfaction drawn on your lips.

when he concentrated his gaze back on the man that had touched you, he crouched in front of him, getting to his level before taking over the curse and wrapping his hand around the stranger’s neck. tormenting him and taking the air away from him. suguru tightened his grip, his smile fading when he brought the man closer and closer towards death.

“so you think you can just harm her and get away with it?”

the man was hissing swears as small cries of help escaped his bloody lips. his face was swollen and breaking down under suguru’s hold and his watering eyes looked like they would pop out of their socket sooner or later. that’s how tight he held the man.

“pathetic.”

he fed on their cries. helplessly calling out for help, the men only fueled his rage with their insufferable sounds. the sorcerer remembered every time he had felt an ounce of empathy for these beings in the past and regretted every actions he had done to protect them when he saw your wounded state. what they had done was inexcusable and no amount of pain would be enough to atone for it.

after a while, resigned, your offender chocked out a weak apology. but as he did, all the bones in his body instantly broke under another a new kind of pressure coming from yet another curse suguru had unleashed upon him. so now he laid there, between your boyfriend’s compressed clutch. dead.

after a few seconds he dropped the body on the ground like garbage waste and walked to you, passing by the other men that were struggling to breath. he pushed the first one aside with his foot, throwing one on the ground, creating a path for him to walk to you.

“move. i’ve come to take what’s mine.”

on suguru’s command, two snaps followed when the curses broke the other men’s necks before they fell on the floor. three lifeless corpses were now scattered in front of both of you, and as soon as he made sure those stupide monkeys had payed for what they had done, he joined you.

when he leaned towards you, his hand grazed yours, wrapping it with his own in a warm grip. his eyes searched for yours, lifting your chin with his thumb before running it along your jaw, making comforting circles on your cheek.

“are you alright, my love? can you walk?”

suguru’s tone was calmer than before. his eyes never left yours when he wiped one of your tears. his comforting smile reassured you and you nodded at his question, holding onto his wrist when he helped you up, closing the distance between the two of you.

you could hear his calm heartbeat when you leaned against his chest, hiding between his arms and you wondered how he could be so tranquil after killing these men so easily. little did you know the only thing he felt was rage. he knew he was right to despise these inferior beings that had harmed the only important thing that mattered.

he could’ve burned the world for you.

toji fushiguro

₊˚⊹ ᰔ toji fushiguro was an asshole. a first-class asshole. you guys had slept together left and right and he always left first. you had no expectations regarding the man. no doubt that you were replaceable. he didn’t open up much and never talked about his work which didn’t alarm you much considering toji’s character.

basically, emotionally and personally speaking, you two weren’t close. that’s why, when two strangers raided your apartment, screaming fushiguro’s name in anger, you wondered why you had accepted to sleep with a man with a secret and violent past.

your furniture was on the floor and the men had destroyed most of your electronics so you had no way to call for help. one was guarding the door while the other took care of questioning you. it had something to do with a bet and broken promises. of course, money had to be involved, otherwise, why would they be threatening the girl he had slept with once or twice to know of his whereabouts?

tied to a chair, almost unconscious, he had been covering you with bruises and scratches using anything that he could find but you still gave him the same answer. you had no idea where toji was as he never kept contact with you. he was always the one that came to you. and if you were honest with yourself, you didn’t expect him to come save you anytime soon.

after a while, when the man realized he might not easily get an answer out of you, he reached in his back, pulling out a pistol from the edge of his pants. at the sight of the gun, your heart shattered. that was it for you, you thought. you couldn’t get out of this mess and you would die convinced toji was out there somewhere, probably getting rich and fucking naive girls like you.

you couldn’t even talk anymore, your head was hanging in front of you, blood dripping from your mouth to your thighs. you didn’t know if you’d last long, your vision was blurry and you felt yourself chasing the dark tunnel that clouded your eyesight.

you could hear faint words of command when your chin was lifted with the cold metallic canon of the pistol. the man had your life between his hands. you knew he’d pull the trigger if he eventually realized you couldn’t give him any information he needed. you knew he would kill you. it was so easy and you were pissing him off.

your eyes never left his nervous figure which only frustrated him more and, out of instinct, he slapped you with the handle of the pistol, almost knocking the air out of you. your jaw was broken and tears were flooding your eyes when the blow forced you to look away.

but as he pulled his arm up, preparing for another strike, he seemed to stop in his movement, startled by something behind him. sounds of struggles and a broken door were heard when he shifted his gaze entirely towards the front of your apartment. his accomplice had disappeared which alerted the man and made him call out to him.

several seconds and unanswered calls later, on his guard, the armed stranger decided to go take a look. as soon as he took a step towards the broken piece of wood that was left, a corpse dropped to his feet.

it was the other man, and he seemed to have been brutally murdered from the back, a hole at his heart’s level revealed the level of violence he had endured which left the man panicked and distressed. sweat was covering his forehead when he tried to peak out the door, fingers trembling against the handle and trigger.

unfortunately for him, a tall and broad shadow quickly covered him, before a shot came off. one single gunshot followed by a loud thud.

you could barely make up the identity of the person who had saved you with your weak sight, but his odour was enough for you to distinguish the man clearly. he always smelled the same.

toji was here. he was standing in the doorway, a tight grip around his gun and a grin covering his scarred lips. “can’t believe they send these weaklings to come after me.”

he carefully stepped between the cadavers, examining the poor state of your apartment and their lifeless bodies before his gaze shifted to you. a quick exchange was enough for you to sigh in relief and let yourself relax to an unconscious state.

despite himself, he did feel an ounce of guilt when he took a good look at you. his mistakes had almost gotten you killed. he couldn’t have imagined how he would’ve felt if he had arrived too late. the blood on your face, the broken jaw and the many scars were revealed by the moonlight passing through the door. the cold air misplaced your hair for toji to see tears strolling down your face.

his grin faded as he stood still in front of you and the mess he had made. his grip had loosened around the gun but he slowly moved the canon towards the second man he had killed. without hesitation, he emptied his clip through the culprit’s head, a look of contempt and disgust plastered on his face.

“tsk.. you just had to go and get yourself noticed, hm?” he said, now focused only on you.

thanks to toji, you were safe now. and you had silently thanked him for coming back for you.

carrying you bridal style as you laid there now unconscious but safe in his arms, he placed his thumb against your jaw, tilting your head to get a proper look at you. even now, you were so beautifully calm and your cheeks wore a pink tint, probably because of the cold, which only accentuated your beauty and innocence.

with a sigh, like it weighed on his conscience, toji murmured. “guess someone’s gonna have to take care of you, from now on.”

but the truth was far from what it appeared to be. saving you that night had just brought the man closer to the conclusion that he cherished you more than he thought he did. you weighed on his conscience like a guilty obsession which he could only nourish by spending more time by your side.

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inupibaldspot · 4 months

Text

Wingman ain’t subtle.

Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them

Gojo thinks today is a bad day.

“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.

The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.

“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”

Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”

“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.

Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”

Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?

To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.

Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”

Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.

He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.

Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.

When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.

Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.

The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”

He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.

Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!

The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.

Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.

He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”

“You’re hurt?”

Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.

“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”

“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.

You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”

You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”

He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”

Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”

The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”

You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”

“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”

Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”

Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.

“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”

Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.

Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.

Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”

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