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1kook · 3 years

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this is part of my netflix & chill series!

SUMMARY “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” WARNING angst with implied smut at the end!!, flashbacks, low self esteem, alcohol consumption, jk is (implied) a virgin in this, there’s a lil fondling by oc u know the usual MISC they r soulmates <3, our queen doyeon returns, i tried to use symbolism👁 in the dialogue so yes everything drunk oc says has a meaning hehe RATING m bc alcohol WC 2.2k

NOTES i said once a long time ago that n&c couple were prolly at the same party once but didn't realize so hERE WE GO ! its not proofread bc um. yeah<3

Homecoming week.

Jungkook doesn’t even think his university’s football team is good, but he had read somewhere that part of the college experience is obnoxiously supporting this team all four years. And well. Jungkook wants to fit in. Frankly, Jungkook feels a little dumb having accepted this invitation from Kim Taehyung from his first-year writing class. He’s only known the man a solid four weeks, probably won’t know him this well once Taehyung finds real friends, ones who suit his outgoing personality, and decides Jungkook is too boring, but Jungkook will make the best of it while he can because, again, he wants to fit in. Badly. It’ll be different this time, he had told himself while getting ready. You won’t be awkward anymore. You’ll make friends.

And then it’s nearing midnight and Jungkook has spoken to a whopping two people at this party of over a hundred. Not including Taehyung, it’s down to one. Even that had only been to ask where the bathroom was. He feels severely out of place, like he’s both too large and too small to be in this area, to be at this party, so he shuffles into the kitchen when he hears them call for another match of beer pong. He’s actually pretty good at the game, has refined his skills at get togethers with his older cousins. But it’s not like anyone here wants to be Jungkook’s partner anyway. Or even knows who he is for that matter.

Taehyung had bumped into him a little past ten, had had two girls clinging to his sides when he had greeted Jungkook. One of them had almost looked tempted, Jungkook wanted to believe, brushing her hand against his arm. But he didn’t act quick enough— what would he even have done? what did he even want? —and Taehyung disappeared with both girls soon after, leaving Jungkook by himself once more.

The kitchen is empty, the drinks long since having migrated to the living area of this huge frat. With a defeated sigh, Jungkook sinks back against one of the counters, setting his lukewarm cup of beer down beside him. He’s buzzed, drank in a feeble attempt to ‘lose himself’ as all the movies claimed. But now all he can feel is a pounding headache threatening to consume him. He doesn’t even like drinking— why did he drink this much?

He should go home.

Events like this, parties like this— they weren’t meant for someone like Jungkook. He was too quiet, too shy to let loose like everyone else. He doesn’t do well in social situations, or at least not as well as his therapist had told him he would. He hesitates too much, never speaks when he needs to. Haerim from his freshman basics class had even said so. “You’re quiet, huh,” she had smiled, and when her notebook had touched his elbow, he flinched. She didn’t take it to heart. Just like Taehyung wouldn’t if he left right now. They know how he is. He doesn’t belong here. These types of parties were made for outgoing people, people who lived on the edge, people who weren’t trapped in their own thoughts all the time, people like—

Like the girl who stumbles through the doorway now. “Woooo,” she slurs, and then promptly faceplants into the dirty tile of the kitchen, the same tile littered with sticky footprints and random debris. He can’t even imagine what else is on the floor of a frat house mid-party. Jungkook flinches at the sound of her knee hitting the ground, before rushing over to help her up.

She’s a giggling mess, eyes half shut by the time Jungkook gets her into a seated position. “Are you okay?” he flounders, hand on her shoulder when she wobbles again, nearly falls back down.

“Just peachy,” she sings, flashing him a sloppy thumbs up. Her neck isn’t doing a particularly good job of holding her head up and when Jungkook places a hand on the back of her head, she leans into it, blissful smile on her face. She’s really pretty, it makes Jungkook’s cheeks burn when she aims it at him next. “Pucca loves Garu,” she lets him know, eyes finally fluttering open. “He’s a pretty boy.”

Jungkook blinks. He has no idea what you’re talking about. “Huh?” he stutters, glancing back at the bar stool by the counter instead. It’s probably infinitely times better than the sticky tile beneath your bare legs. “I’m gonna stand you up,” he tells you, taking your loud cackle as a sign that you’re okay with it. Jungkook’s been working out all summer, so you’re not heavy in the slightest, arms thrown around his shoulders while he slips his own around your back. Your proximity leaves him drowning in your scent.

The giggles don’t subside when he sits you down, not even when he begins opening random cabinets in search of a glass to get you some water. He’s had his fair share of experiences looking after drunk people, so he has a pretty good idea of what to do now. However, your sudden bout of commentary certainly doesn’t make it easier. “Isn’t it, like, super cool how the sun and the moon are, like—“ a hiccup, Jungkook settles on tap water “tooootally different beings, but, like— they, like, both maintain the earth?” Your hand reaches for his forearm when he returns, gives him this little squeeze in your excitement. “Like— Like they both have to, like— work together? To keep it perfect, y’know?”

Jungkook pushes the water into your hands. You’ve got this sparkly sheen to your eyes, the one that most people get after one too many drinks, but it’s accompanied by this childlike wonder that leaves Jungkook breathless when you meet his gaze. “Yeah,” he says quietly. You beam. It’s blinding. So blinding that Jungkook promptly looks away, nudging the cup in your hands. “You need to drink this.”

You frown. “Boooo, so boring,” you huff. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t heard before, but it is a little disheartening to hear it from a stranger. He stamps the feeling down, pursing his lips as he gives up on letting you drink yourself. The cup is swiped from your hand and Jungkook tasks himself with making you drink it instead. And of course, like all wasted young adults, you put up a fight. “Ew, what is that?” you spit.

Jungkook sighs. “Water.”

At his defeated tone, the exaggerated grimace slips off your face, replaced with a rather solemn expression instead. Jungkook tries to take advantage of it and pushes the cup against your lip again, but all he really accomplishes is sloshing it down the front of your dress. You don’t yelp, but he does. “I’m so sorry,” he panics, sliding the sleeve of his shirt down around his thumb to wipe your chin.

You let him, head tilted curiously to the side. Jungkook tries to ignore your analytical gaze until: “you’re cute,” you announce, and abruptly send him into shock.

He recoils, face a blazing mess. “I’m—“ he chokes, swallowing when you wipe your hand down your own chest, leave a glistening layer of water over your sternum and down between your breasts.

“Cute,” you repeat, downing the glass he had been trying to coax into you like it’s nothing now. With it gone, you don’t waste any time, throwing your hands around his shoulders, fingers brushing through the hair at the base of his neck. You pull him close, so close in fact, that he ends up having to hold the back of your chair to keep from accidentally crushing you with his weight. “Your name, pretty boy?”

He can’t think. You’re so drunk and smell so good and are just so pretty— his brain short circuits. “Um I’m, uh, Jeon J—“

“Jeon,” you repeat, silly smile back on your face. You’re not technically wrong, so he nods along with a blush high on his cheeks. “Well, Jeon,” you purr, but you’re still so drunk, eyelids fluttering in a rather funny way. “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?”

Jungkook doesn’t even know what that means, and honestly, he doesn’t really hear you over the thundering of his own heart and the bass in the other room. “Um, but you’re really…” he stammers, leaning back but a finger loops around one of his curls and he gasps when you pull at it. “You’re drunk,” he rushes out, lower lip trembling when your nose knocks against his.

A soft hum, the sound sending electricity down his spine when you cup his cheek. “But don’t you think I’m pretty?” you murmur, eyes flickering to his mouth.

“Yes,“ he chokes out, “you’re a very, very pretty girl. But I really shouldn’t—“

“Hey,” you shush, tilting his head just the slightest. Jungkook has never had a girl touch him like this, has never even touched a girl before either, but, well. He really wants to kiss you. And that’s saying a lot considering Jungkook has never kissed anyone before.

Despite how good it feels, he knows you’re still really drunk. It’s with a decisive huff that he pushes away, hands on your waist to keep you from touching up on him any further. You’re not that strong anyway. And then he’s met with the biggest pout he’s ever seen, an absolutely distraught look on your face.

Something in him says you’ll cry if he doesn’t explain himself soon, so he launches into it right away. “You’re very pretty,” he says, almost laughing at the way your entire face lights up immediately. “But you’re very drunk.” You huff. “You deserve to be treated like a queen.” Mostly regurgitating something he heard in a motivational video.

It works. Eventually, you stop being fussy in his arms and settle with a frown. “You’re too nice,” you grumble, forehead on the countertop. He doesn’t see how it’s much better than the floor but he lets you be. “You got a girlfriend, don’t you?”

At that, Jungkook laughs. “No,” he reassures you, hesitates, and then gently pats your back. Jungkook actually feels you melt under his touch. That sultry look is gone, replaced with this rather tranquil look that he doesn’t quite understand.

“That was pretty,” you murmur, but Jungkook doesn’t quite hear.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I said your smile was pre—“

“There you are!” someone hollers from the kitchen doorway, the shrill tone of their voice making both you and Jungkook jump. When he turns around, he’s met with the sight of a rather tall girl angrily stomping your way, eyes a blazing fire, fists clenched by her side. Jungkook realizes only a second too late that she’s looking at him. “Get off of her, you sweaty city-owned dumpster,” she hisses, using the strength of three football players to push Jungkook away. “You make me sick—“

“Doyeonie,” you beam, launching yourself into the angry girl’s arms. Ah. The Help had arrived.

Said angry girl (Doyeonie?) is still using every mash-up of words possible to degrade Jungkook as she hauls you into her arms, shooting daggers every step of the way. “I can’t believe you would try to take advantage of a poor girl when she’s this drunk,” she spits.

“What?” Jungkook coughs, cheeks warm. “I wasn’t—“

“Tell it to Campus Safety when I report you, you wannabe, dollar store Rain.” Jungkook clutches his chest at the acidity of her tongue, surprised anyone could be so mean.

All things considered, this was actually good. Someone who knew you had come to take you to safety, meaning Jungkook didn’t have to look after you anymore. When this Doyeonie turns around, he’s met with your smiley face smushed against her shoulder.

(It’s weird. He’s a little sad to see you go.)

“Bye, Jeon,” you giggle, hand brushing down his arm, squeezing his hand, before you’re abruptly yanked away. Jungkook manages one weak wave, cheeks lit ablaze once more when you send him a silly air kiss from the doorway, urging him to catch it. He does, and he feels really silly when he puts it in his pocket, but he can hear your laughter for a second more before he loses you.

The last few minutes being so hectic, he decides to go home. Parties weren’t really his thing. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever go to one again.

Until a few years later.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” you slur, lips against his throat. Another invitation, this time, Taehyung’s birthday. His friend had practically begged him to come, knowing how Jungkook was. In the end, it had been you who had accepted on his behalf.

“Baby, not here,” he laughs, hand on your shoulder when you try to shove your hand down his pants for the third time that night.

Taehyung had been ecstatic to see Jungkook here. And then had quickly become annoyed when he caught the two of you making out in his storage closet an hour later. “Bro, don’t be that couple at parties,” he had groaned, locking the door behind him.

Jungkook had laughed. “I wouldn’t know what ‘that couple’ is at parties,” he reminded him.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m sure your girlfriend can fill you in.”

Apparently not. You’ve been trying to kiss him for the past three minutes but keep missing because you’re so drunk. “Just one,” you beg, so pretty but so drunk. The fake lashes you’d worn today make you look like a doll, batting them his way until he’s giving in, slotting his lips against yours. You’re probably going to throw up in his bathroom when you get home, so he should make the best of your kisses now. Jungkook pushes that thought aside as he reaches a hand out to wipe at the sweat accumulating on your chest. There’s something weird about the gesture, like he’s done it before at another party. But that doesn’t make sense; he couldn't have— this is his first party with you.

“We should, like, leave,” you whisper against his ear, fingers burying themselves in his hair; when you pull on a strand, he nearly moans. “Go home. Maybe netflix and—“ a hiccup that makes him smile “—chill?”

Jungkook kisses your temple. “Sounds good to me, pretty girl.”

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jjk fic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fic #mine

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Useful Part 2

fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation.

—* — * — * —* —*

“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore.

But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now.

“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her.

“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big.

But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support.

It really cemented just how far he had come.

So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation.

“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning.

“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”

Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself.

They watched as Marinette shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.”

It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled.

“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”

“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.”

“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.”

Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!”

Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.”

Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop.

Marinette gulped.

But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her.

A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up.

Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration.

But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded.

“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.”

Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?”

“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.”

Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades.

“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly.

“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.”

She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!”

To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee.

“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?”

“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.”

“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.”

“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart.

Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it.

“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?”

Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time.

“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it.

So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.”

Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath.

Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?”

That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him, but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.”

“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.

But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him.

“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her.

“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”

“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll.

“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.”

Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.”

Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her.

She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.

#maribat #platonic daminette #sibling daminette #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne #ml x dc #mlb x dc #Useful

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑾𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑰𝒔 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

❅𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔

You huffed as you tried to zip up your dress but to no avail. It would not budge because of the baby bump that was growing. In one last attempt to zip it up, you actually ended up ripping the zipper, causing you to gasp in horror.

"Oh no." Your hand covered your mouth as you stared in shock at yourself in the mirror.

"Honey are you ready to go?" Hongjoong asked, as he came into the room.

Hongjoong noticed how you kept staring at your reflection in the mirror, immobile and not responding to him.

"Hey baby? What is it?" He came up behind you, his arms sliding down protectively around your stomach.

Unwillingly, you let out tears and started sobbing.

"I'm....fat." You whined as you wiped some tears off your face, effectively making some of your eye makeup smudge.

Hongjoong pouted and shook his head cutely at you.

"Baby no. You're not fat. You're carrying a baby, our baby. Our beautiful little bundle of joy that we created together and that I can't wait to bring into this world with you."

You smiled softly at his words. Placing a kiss to your cheek, he continued:

"You're absolutely beautiful love. And if I must admit, I think you look more lovely with the baby bump." He sent a wink to you through the mirror, causing you to burst out giggling.

"Tell you what? Let's skip the dinner date and just stay home and cuddle. Ok?"

❅𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎

Sitting on your bed, waiting for Seonghwa to come out of the bathroom, you kept replaying your mother in law's words in your head.

"I remember when I gave birth to Seonghwa. He came a little earlier than expected while his father was away on a business trip. So I had to go through the birth process all alone. You can imagine how scared I was."

Her story shook you to your core. Seonghwa often had to go away. What if the same thing happened to you? What if he misses the birth of your child? And you had to endure all of it alone?

You were so immersed in your worries, you failed to notice that Seonghwa was standing next to you and were woken up when his hand touched your shoulder.

"What is it my dear?" He asked, knowing something was troubling you.

"I don't want to go through this by myself..." You admitted, one of your hands going to your bump to get your point across.

Seonghwa understood what you were talking about, the way you kept quiet and became pensive when his mom told her story did not go unnoticed by him. Seonghwa kneeled in front of you. Taking your hands in his, he promised you:

"And you won't. I'm not going to leave you or our child alone during this time. My father missed my birth and it's something that he regrets to this day. I don't want to do the same. I want to be there for you and our baby. I'm going to be there every step of the way. I promise."

Leaning in, he sealed his promise with a kiss, and you were now much calmer with his reassuring words.

❅𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜

You took a deep breath as soon as you stepped inside the house, relieved to finally be back in the comfort of your own home. It's not that you hated your in laws, but to have them constantly tell you how to take care of their future grandson, because apparently you don't know what you're doing, irritated you.

If you were honest, at times you felt like they just saw you as an incubator instead of what you really were: Yunho's wife and mother of his child. It was horrible.

You went to the kitchen and decided to prepare yourself a little snack. You opted for something on the spicier side since you were craving it really badly. Right at that moment, Yunho came in and when he saw what you were eating he quickly took it away.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, trying to get your food back.

"You can't eat spicy food. Mom said it increases the risk of a miscarriage. " Yunho said while holding the plate high above your head.

"No it doesn't! Now give it back." You desperately tried to jump and take it away from him.

"Y/N stop doing that. It could hurt the baby or-"

"Oh for fuck's sake Yunho will you shut up and stop repeating everything your parents say?! I'm sick and tired of them basically tell me I'm not a good mother. I already feel shitty enough as it is with the mood swings and pregnancy pains, and I don't need you or anyone else making me feel worse than I already do!"

You finally snapped. You turned around and began crying tears of pain, fear, rage and frustration. Yunho felt horrible. He realized now he should have protected you more but he didn't. Carefully, he hugged you from behind.

"Baby, you're doing an amazing job. You'll see, you're going to be the best mom in the whole world. I'm proud of you. And.... I'm sorry about my parents. I promise I won't let them have a say in how we raise our baby anymore. Ok?"

He turned you around and began wiping your tears away.

"Don't cry anymore love. I hate to see you cry. Could you please smile for me?"

❅𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔

It was already difficult for Yeosang and you to get pregnant. You spent almost 3 years trying, about to give up hope, when it finally happened. You were pregnant and Yeosang was elated with the news.

Although you and him were extremely careful, being your first child and everything, you still felt uneasy at times. It didn't help when you went to visit your family and ended up finding out all of your aunts have had at least 1 miscarriage before.

"Don't be so surprised dear. All women in our family have had a miscarriage."

You looked over at your own mother, who unfortunately had to confirm their allegations and tell you about the older sister you were supposed to have.

Since then you became paranoid. It was already a struggle to get pregnant, what if you were to actually lose the baby. One night, you had a terrible nightmare that had you shaking and bawling your eyes out. It was so intense, Yeosang had to wake you up and hold you for 10 minutes until you calmed down.

You then told him about what your aunts said, about your dream and your fear of something happening to your baby. Although Yeosang was scared as well, he had to be strong for both of you.

"Honey, please don't think such things. So far we've been very careful about this and the doctor says everything is fine. If you worry too much about this, it could be harmful."

"I know, I know Yeosang.....but what if I do have a miscarriage? What will we do then? How do we know we won't have one?" You asked him.

Yeosang held back the tears threatening to spill out. He refused to imagine that scenario in his head.

"We don't know Y/N, no one ever knows these things....but I do know that I love you and our baby. And I know we're doing our best. I can't promise you that nothing will happen....but whatever happens, I want you to know you're not alone. I'm here with you, by your side and we're going to get through all this together. No matter what comes."

Yeosang kissed your forehead reassuringly. Although he was scared, he had hope that both of you would be able to bring your baby into this world safely and unharmed.

❅𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛

You immediately turned off the TV. You internally cursed yourself for watching another drama therapist show. You usually rolled your eyes when it turnt out someone cheated on their spouse, but this recent one made you paranoid. Because the husband had cheated on his pregnant wife because 'he had needs she couldn't fulfill'.

It got you paranoid. You immediately started wondering if San would ever cheat on you, that is if he hadn't already. It had been 5 months since you last had sex. For all you knew, he could be seeing someone else. As if on cue, San walked into the house.

"Hi honey. How's my lovely-"

"Who are you seeing?" You immediately accused him.

San looked at you as if you were crazy.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Don't lie to me! Who are you cheating on me with?" Maybe you were jumping to conclusions too hastily, but you were so anxious to think rationally.

"Who am I cheating on you with? What has gotten into you woman?" San could not believe what he was hearing.

That's when you broke down and confessed rather embarrassingly the whole situation. San listened to you patiently, without judgment and you felt worse.

"I'm sorry." You apologized.

"Baby it's fine, I get why you'd get worried, but trust me. I'm not some asshole that's going to cheat on my wife, who by the way is carrying my child. I mean seriously, who does that?" San actually cringed at the thought, making you laugh a little.

"Baby I love you and only you. And why would I want anyone else when I'm lucky enough to have all this?" San smiled as he pulled you close to him.

"So you still find me attractive?" You asked with doe eyes.

San chuckled.

"Baby I think you're the most beautiful person in the world. And besides....."

Carefully, he picked you up and began taking you to your bedroom.

"Who says we can't make love while you're pregnant?"

❅𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖

Mingi came into the house all happy. Wanting to surprise you with a date in a fancy restaurant, he waltzed into the room and hugged you tightly.

"Hi love!" He screeched loudly as he pecked your lips.

"And hello to you as well." He gently rubbed your belly, cooing softly.

He looked back at you, noticing that you loved out of sorts.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"I'm just not in a good mood." You replied, your voice had a cold tone to it.

Mingi smiled. "Perfect! I know just how to cheer you up! I made reservations for a date! So why don't you make yourself look even more beautiful so we can go?"

"I don't want to." You said, sitting on the bed.

Mingi pouted at you.

"But baby. I really want to take you and our baby out. So please-"

"No Mingi! I told you, I'm not in a good mood! I'm cranky and this pregnancy is killing me, I'm sore all over my body and I'm carrying an extra 40 pounds that I'm not used to and it's all your fault!"

Mingi stood there, shook at your sudden outburst.

"My fault?"

"Yes! You were the one who wanted to have a baby, it was your idea yet you're not the one having to go through all this! It's me! You selfish idiot!" You crossed your arms and glared at him.

Usually Mingi would have been hurt by your words, but after months of dealing with your raging hormones, he knew you didn't actually mean what you said. Sitting next to you, he wrapped an arm around you.

"Come on Y/N, you know you don't mean that..."

Chuckling, he teased:

"And if I remember correctly, you were thrilled and wanted to immediately start trying when I brought up the idea of having a baby."

You poked your bottom lip out in annoyance, not wanting to admit he was right. Mingi laughed softly and kissed your pouty lips.

"Did you know you're even more adorable when you get all feisty and angry?" He said as he pinched your cheeks.

"Stop." You swatted his arm away, unable to contain the smile that soon spread on your face.

Mingi may be your annoying husband at times, but he always knew how to make you soft.

❅𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔

"Must you go?"

You held onto Wooyoung's arm, refusing to let him go.

"I'm sorry about canceling movie night darling, but it's important and the guys need me."

Wooyoung sighed as he put on his jacket and began loading his revolver.

"It's not that it's just..."

You stopped yourself and looked down. Wooyoung stopped what he was doing and caressed your arms.

"What is it babe?" He urged you to tell him.

You looked at him and told him:

"I'm scared ok? You've been doing this for years, but now I'm scared. Scared of something happening to you...or someone breaking in and hurting me or our baby..."

You couldn't form any more words, getting choked up with your emotions. You began thinking about all the worst case scenarios that could possibly happen. For all you knew, you could end up being a young widow and single mother for the rest of your life.

Wooyoung pulled you against him, his hand stroking your hair. That was all it took for you to start crying as you held onto him like your life or his depended on it.

"Sweetheart, I promised I'd protect you and I'm not breaking my promise. Nothing will happen to you or our child." He whispered softly.

"What about you? What if something happens to you while on a mission?"

Wooyoung actually let out a laugh at that.

"Babygirl, nothing can kill me. I'm practically bulletproof."

You hit his chest.

"What? It's true. Come on Y/N. I'm not about to let anything happen to me. I need to stay alive to be there and hold our precious daughter when she arrives."

You rolled your eyes.

"We don't know if it's a girl yet-"

"She's a girl! And that's final! We're having a girl!" He exclaimed, refusing to believe he was wrong.

❅𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜

"What's on your mind honey bunch?"

Jongho knew you well enough to know something was troubling you.

"Do you think this was a good idea?" You asked him.

"Ordering food from this place? Definitely not. This is why I say we don't try new places." Jongho let out a tiny 'bleh' when he tried something that was a little too spicy for his liking.

"No....I mean...the baby."

Jongho dropped his fork and looked at you in shock.

"You're....you're not actually regretting this..are you?" He was afraid to hear your answer.

"No, not the baby .... but me." You said.

"You? Why?" Jongho got up and went immediately went to your side.

"I mean....what if I end up being a bad mother? What if I don't know what to do? I'm scared Jongho." You looked at him, face full of worry.

"Pumpkin, listen. I'm scared too. I mean.... it is our first time."

You both chuckled at that .

"But the thing is, we're both going to try our best to give our baby a good life and to protect it as best we can. And I can assure you that I think you'll be a wonderful mother."

Your eyes lit up at his comment.

"You really think so?"

Jongho nodded and pulled you onto his lap.

"I do. I mean, you take good care of Mingi. I'd say you already know the basics of taking care of a baby." He snorted.

You laughed despite not wanting to.

"You're so mean to him!"

"If you want extra practice, I can ask him to come."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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sheyshocked · 3 years

Text

Fighting Our Demons

Summary: Daniel and Leo were both fucked up. Badly. There was no lying about it. But at least they had each other.

Ship: Daniel/Leo Manfred (Detroit: Become Human)

Warnings: None

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Drug Withdrawal, Leo Manfred Redemption, Insecurity, Hopeful Ending, Ficlet

Wordcount: 746

A/N: Little something for @disterra. Thanks again for introducing me to this ship, Dee!

You can also read it on ao3!

Just look at them, Leo always used to think as he passed by numerous androids on their way to work. Plastic pricks. They are prancing around, being... perfect. The impeccable dress-up dolls who never argue or have bad days. Unlike I do. No wonder dad likes them more than me.

That last thought stung like a sharpened blade. He despised this feeling of helplessness that weighed heavy on his heart. Luckily, it was almost always overshadowed by the loneliness his way of life was bringing him, with nothing to comfort him other than a handful of a Red Ice, and rage. Wrath at father, his perfect plastic pet, everyone.

When Markus finally snapped and stood up to him, bashing his head open in the process, it opened his eyes. Nearly dying does that to a person, he supposed. Or maybe it was how he found out later that his dad did care, even after all of this mess. Nurses said he stayed by his bedside when he was still unconscious. Hearing how he held his hand during the sleep felt so surreal… It was the last straw that drove him to want to become a better son and a person.

On some lonely days, it was so fucking hard not to give in to the tempting lure of the Red Ice, falling back into his bad habits. But he still tried his best as the world around him changed.

Markus has won – the revolution was successful. Androids were recognized as new sentient beings and all kept by the DPD as evidence were supposed to be repaired and get a fair trial as every person should. All was just peachy. But Leo still couldn’t help at times the sharp pang of jealousy whenever he watched Markus’ speeches. The grace with which he delivered his witty lines. That strange unnatural aura of perfection surrounding him. Leo was sure he would never understand his kind, but at least chose to not act upon those ugly feelings.

It wasn’t until he met Daniel in front of a therapist's office that he realized his jealousy was pointless.

Daniel was not perfect. One could argue he was as far from it as he could get. An obsolete model with serious abandonment issues and more than a troubled past. But once you somehow managed to crack that thick shell he kept around his heart to protect himself, you found an intriguing sensitive being who had so much love to give, when he got over his fear of getting hurt again.

Dan has seen him at his worst – and to his surprise, he didn’t run away. He stayed with him during his most severe withdrawals and hardly even flinched. It baffled him at times, to be honest. Anyone sane would be gone by now.

“Why don’t you just leave me? Everyone else did,” he asked after one of the worse episodes which ended with him on the bathroom floor, head in Daniel’s lap as he stroked his hair glistening with sweat to calm him down. “Don’t you see I’m a complete mess?”

Daniel stayed silent for long enough to worry him, a frown marring his handsome face.

This is it, Leo’s heart sank as he waited for the other man to shake him off his lap and go for the door. Instead, he was surprised by a kiss being pressed onto his forehead that was running hot with fever. It wasn’t nearly as tender as he expected it to be – not with his fiery Dan. But there was a raw emotion hidden behind this little gesture. So much so he couldn’t doubt it was driven by love.

“Hey, stop with this nonsense. I’m not gonna leave you just because you are struggling right now. We are all fighting our demons.” His voice turned wistful, trembling with emotions he could barely get a hold of. It made Leo reach out and put his hand, which was still shaking like crazy, on his cheek, cradling it with more warmth than he thought he was capable of. “You know what I’ve done. How it haunts me to this day. But with you, here… I want to try and fight our demons, together. For as long as you’ll have me.”

It was then that Leo teared up. He didn’t deserve this man. And yet...

They were both fucked up. Badly. There was no lying about it. But at least they had each other. That was all that mattered.

#detroit become human #danleo #daniel/leo #dbh #dbh fanfiction #dbh daniel #dbh leo manfred #shey scribbles #hurt/comfort #ficlet

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basicbatboys · 3 years

Text

Drain-O

Part 2

WARNINGS: Abusive ex, descriptions of abuse, violence, death, angst, language

A lil vent writing :) This is the first thing I’ve written in a very long time and a topic close to my heart! The title is irrelevant to the fic, it was just my own personal Drain-O

1914 words

Jason finds out you’ve been talking to an abusive ex who you’re convinced has changed. You go out with the ex and chaos ensues. There’s nice fluff at the end with Jason consoling and talking with you. This is not a light fic.

If you or someone you know is struggling with domestic abuse, it is not a situation that you can handle alone. Please reach out to someone and find help. You deserve better.

800.799.SAFE (7233)

https://www.thehotline.org/

I stood in front of my full length mirror, smoothing down the slight creases in the dress I’d grabbed out of the closet. I smiled softly at my reflection. It had been a while since I’d felt this nice- since I’d had something to feel nice for. I gave myself a final once over, and when I was content I turned to head toward my desk to finish the final touches on my hair and makeup. When I turned, I was a little too unsurprised to see a dark figure crouched on my windowsill. I sighed and walked toward it, undoing the latch.

“Jaybird, you find the worst times to pester me.”

The figure slid through my now opened window with a grace that someone of his size shouldn’t be able to muster. His feet hit the ground with a soft pat and he shut my shade to give himself the privacy required to pull off his helmet. He flashed me a cocky smile and ran a hand through his hair. “It’d hardly be pestering if it was a good time for me to show up.” He pointed out, walking toward my bed and taking a comfortable seat.

I rolled my eyes and retreated to my desk, flipping my hair into a simple messy bun. “I’m leaving soon. And you know, if you keep showing up here, someone is bound to think you live here and break in.” I gave him a pointed look and he responded with a nonchalant eye roll.

“Fun surprise when they stumble on a woman getting ready for a-” he looked me up and down, “date?” He tried.

I nodded. “Yeah, a date.”

He frowned softly and stood up, walking to stand behind me and look at me through the desk mirror. “With whom?” He demanded lowly.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. I turned around in my chair and folded my hands together, begging. “Please, papa! Please, I love him! You can’t forbid me from going out any longer!” I chided, my voice high and my lashes batting.

He sighed. “You know why I’m asking, batbreath.”

I sighed too and turned back around, my attention returning to my makeup. Jason had a reason to be hesitant about my going out. He’d recently discovered that my ex had been talking to me again, and foolishly, I’d let him talk me into taking me out tonight. Of course, Jay didn’t know that last bit. If he did, there’s no way he’d let me leave. My ex had been… Impolite, to say the least. Before I had been introduced to the vigilante family he’d been really good at knocking me around. Most days I’d spend my time covering black eyes and downing countless painkillers. Now was the hard question. Why was I going out with him again?

Well, it had been a year now. I knew how to handle myself, if he thought to try something. And really, I missed him. The memories we had together were clouded by pain, but he was the first man to love me. He held me at night. He kissed me under the stars and in the rain, he bought me flowers and bracelets, and he held my hand on the subway. I missed the way I felt carefree when he laughed. I missed the happy times. I thought, hoped, that things could change. That things would be different now.

“Hey.” Jason nearly yelled, snapping me out of my train of thought. I nearly pierced my nose with my mascara wand.

“What?” I snapped, turning to look up at him again.

“I don’t want the trademark attitude right now. You don’t get to have an attitude. Who are you going out with, this is serious.”

I sighed, defeated. “His name is Zack.” I said, sliding him a fake name. “He’s a nice guy, really!” I lied, forcing a smile. “A really good guy.”

Jason didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded and backed away from my chair. “Okay.” He said, grabbing his helmet. “I won’t pester you anymore.” He said, spitting my earlier words back at me. He headed toward the window, slid on his helmet, and opened the shade. “You look nice, batbrain.” He finished before exiting through my window and into the darkness again.

“Thank you.” I said to no one.

---

“Dylan, don’t fucking touch me.” I growled, wiping the blood from my nose. I was backed into an alleyway. My blood felt like it was 90% alcohol at this point. He’d been feeding me drinks all night for this planned outburst. I’d never felt stupider in my life.

“God, how many times have I heard you say that? At least a thousand, at this point.” Dylan laughed, stalking toward me. I realized now that I never watched him drink anything but water. Stupid.

“You deserve this, sweetheart, after the hell you’ve put me through. It’s been impossible to bang anyone with all the bullshit you’ve spread about me.”

I could hardly hear him. There was so much fog in my head and the pain from the blows he’d already delivered were clouding any sort of brain function I could have been riding on. Any of the training Batman had given me was out the window.

“It wasn’t bullshit.” I slurred. I wiped my still-dripping nose again. “See?” I said, holding up blood stained fingers. “Not bullshit. You’re a psychopath.”

He laughed again. “Oh, the attitude. How I missed the fucking attitude!” He reached into his pocket and pulled out something I couldn’t distinguish. Then, I saw the glint under the little light that the alley offered. A knife.

I backed up until I hit the wall. Was this really how I was going to die? Stupid. Stupid, stupid.

“I’m going to really enjoy silencing that fucking attitude.”

He walked toward me, slowly. I felt like I was suffocating. There was no way out. No one here to save me. I looked right at him.

He didn’t seem off put. He didn’t stop, he just maintained his pace. He was about a foot away from me when a shot rang out. I watched his body soundlessly fall to the ground. My ears were ringing. I stared, open mouthed, at the pool of blood that slid out from under his head, black and thick.

I looked up. A red helmet stared blankly at me from the rooftop. It was only then, really, that I realized I was crying. My knees gave out and I fell to the ground, my palm landing in the puddle of blood.

Jason landed on the ground beside me moments later. He knelt down and took my hand, helping me back to my feet. “Let’s get you home.” He muttered, his tone unreadable.

----

The sun beaming through my window woke me up gradually. My head was killing me and my pillow had small dots of blood decorating it from the times when my nose had continued bleeding throughout the night. I sat up slowly and the memories of the night before came flooding back. Jason.

I reached for my phone, but I couldn’t find it. I stood up and walked cautiously out to the living room. He was here and had presumably spent the night. He was already awake and sitting on my couch.

“Hi.” I breathed, unable to say more than that.

He looked up at me with dark, angry eyes. Then, surprisingly, his gaze softened. “Come sit down?” He asked.

I nodded and sat across from him. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. I knew what he wanted from me was an explanation.

“I-” I started, then stopped. I was already crying again. Embarrassment was the best word for what I was feeling. “I lied to you. I don’t need to tell you that, you already know. I lied to you because… Because I knew you wouldn’t let me go. And I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have trusted him again, Jay. I know. But… I…” I couldn’t fully articulate the way I felt. I knew that I needed to try but between the throbbing pain and the hangover burning a hole in my brain it was damn near impossible to get anything coherent out.

Jason didn’t say anything. He wanted to let me finish, I assumed.

“He was… I loved him. I thought that maybe he had changed because he apologized and explained things. He said he was seeing a therapist now. That he had figured out ways to help himself cope with his problems, and Jay, I mean, he was my first real love. He made me feel so carefree and so happy. The times that he hit me were… I mean they were terrible but he always worked so hard to make up for it. I thought that there was good in him. I thought that maybe we would go back to just being happy together. And with everything I learned in training I knew I could protect myself. And then he got me drinking and I thought he was drinking too but he just kept ordering me drinks and you know how I am with alcohol, I didn’t think twice about what he might have been doing to me. Jason, please-”

He held up a hand. “Don’t.” He said softly. He put his face in his hands and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I… I’m disappointed.” He said finally. The words struck me deep in a core part of myself. “I thought you knew better.”

I didn’t know what to say. I looked down and watched the tears from my eyes turn into dark spots on my shorts.

“But-” he continued, “That’s how you’ve always been. Always wanting to see the best in people. Always wanting to fix what just can’t be fixed. You were clearly manipulated. He clearly fucked you so badly in the head that you really thought he loved you.” He looked up at me.

I can’t imagine what he must see. Some dumb child sitting in front of him, crying like everything wasn’t her fault. I would have been safe if I hadn’t just walked right into his trap. I could have saved everyone the headache. I must have looked so pathetic.

“You don’t need a lecture. You need help. You need-” I let out the sob that I’d been holding in and he sighed. “You need a friend.” He stood up and walked toward me, pulling me into his arms. “I am so sorry that you have never known real love. I’m sorry that that is what love is to you because it is so much more beautiful than kissing bruises.”

I looked up at him and he carefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and wiped away a tear that had tracked a glistening trail down my cheek. “It is so much gentler.” He whispered. I couldn’t hold his gaze so I looked back down.

He didn’t force me to look at him. He didn’t say anything after that. I wanted to believe him, but the love he described sounded too fairytale-like to be real. Love is damaged. I wanted to argue but I knew there was no point. He saw me as damaged, and hell, maybe I was. All I could offer him was the same hollow “Thank you.” that I spoke to no one the night before.

#jason todd x reader #dc fanfic #jason todd #x reader #angst #fiction #fanfiction #detective comics #red hood #red hood x reader #dc fanfiction #for the soul #triggering content #fluff #repair

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Text

3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 2374

Summary: After seeing Steve's shield handed over to some stranger, Sam calls up Bucky, certain he's the one person who can properly commiserate. He doesn't really expect Bucky to answer though (the guy's become a bit of a recluse), or to hear the hints that he might be missing Sam as much as Sam's been missing him. Not that he'd ever say it straight out.

Sam is almost completely still as the feelings rattle through him like a roller coaster’s last run on a derelict track. He only lets it out—the blend of frustration, betrayal, and regret—in the way his fingers squeeze his knee through his jeans, skin damp against the denim. Keeping his hands clasped, and watching those clasped hands, was more grounding, but he needs one of his hands to hold the phone to his ear, and that activity is getting pretty damn tired.

Bucky’s voicemail clicks on for the third time in a row.

“Bucky,” Sam says, “I know you prefer calls to texting, so what are you doing ignoring me, man? Haven’t used your cell in so long that you’ve forgotten how to hit the answer button? At least it rang. That’s something, I guess.”

He sighs away from the speaker where it won’t be recorded for Bucky to hear later. Maybe he did divert his message from the snarky sarcasm he was planning to leave the guy, but Bucky doesn’t need to hear him sigh on top of that.

For a few moments, Sam taps his foot along with the muffled music of his nephews’ video game coming through the closed door. He knows the boys’ routine (and if he ever forgets, he sees the copy Sarah has on the fridge door) and that this isn’t their usual scheduled time for whatever they’re playing out there. Best guess: Sarah wants them hogging the TV so she won’t be tempted to peek at that government-sanctioned shitshow. Sam can’t blame her. Actually, he wonders if she blames him. The disappointment was so clear in her eyes before he stopped making himself meet them. He thought he was doing the right thing when he handed the shield over. Are there people out there who think he’s let them down, or just his sister? Just himself?

He can’t talk to Sarah right now and he’s thankful that she’s giving him some time to himself, but as soon as he got it, he realized he didn’t know what to do with it. Just like that shield. Dialing Bucky over and over—tapping in every number every time because that appears to be part of this pity ritual he’s performing—seemed like the thing he should do. Probably won’t answer. That asshole is terrible at staying in touch. Still, Sam’s heart feels a little heavier with every word closer he gets to the end of this message. Feels like he’s trying to keep the thing afloat in his chest, like his parents’ boat down at the dock. This is what he knows he should do when everything in him wants to sink—reach out, talk to people. Kinda self-sabotage when he picks the one person almost guaranteed not to answer.

Oh, he’ll hear back from Bucky eventually, probably a handful of choppy texts sent in the middle of the night two weeks from now. Sam knows his pattern; Bucky’s chattiest between 3am and 4am, so chatty that what are likely intended as longer blocks of text arrive in broken fragments because he wants to make everything into neat paragraphs, like he’s writing a damn letter, instead of just getting to the point, but he hits send too soon. Sam would teach him—with plenty of mocking and name-calling, but he would teach him—only while he’s been running ops all over the planet, Bucky’s shrunk his own world way down. He’s gone local to the extreme and it aggravates Sam, even though Bucky isn’t his responsibility, isn’t his other inheritance from Steve. It’s sorta just easier to feel like Bucky is a misplaced bequest than to acknowledge that maybe he misses the guy and his sharp-shooter’s eye and his caveman hair. He can’t keep calling him.

“Thought I’d give you a heads-up,” Sam says, voice weary with this half-true excuse. “Maybe you already saw.” He clears his throat and says quickly, “Anyway, guess I’ll hear from you when I hear from you.”

He’s pulling the phone away from his head and has barely ended the call when it’s ringing in his hand. He answers and catches Bucky’s voice saying his name before it’s even back up to his ear.

“Bucky?” Sam says. “You have a senior’s moment and forget where you left your phone?”

“Nah,” Bucky says. “I saw it was you and decided to ignore it.”

“But you called back.”

“You wouldn’t quit calling. Seemed like you needed me to tell you directly to knock it off.”

“Jackass.” Sam’s gaze darts to the door, but it’s still shut. No chance Sarah saw him grinning over this easy banter. Always the banter with this idiot. Always easy. He sniffs and turns his chair away from the black TV screen. “Did you see that joker on the news?”

Bucky’s either less self-conscious or more inept because he sighs right into the mouthpiece, an exhausted breath in Sam’s ear that has his fingers fleetingly digging into his knee.

“Couldn’t believe that shit,” Bucky tells him in a rough voice. He’s clearly holding back his own feelings about today’s events and, from the sounds of it, they’re more along the lines of anger, hurt, and a simmering desire to wrench the shield from the arm of the new Captain America. “You know that thing’s supposed to be yours.”

“You saying I should’ve done something to stop it?” Sam demands.

“Coulda.”

Sam forces his shoulders to drop, draws a slow breath in and pushes it back out.

“It wasn’t mine anymore, if it ever was. I gave it to the Smithsonian. They sealed it in this glass case and added it to the exhibit.”

“Not a very tight seal.”

“Guess not,” Sam agrees.

“You shouldn’t have turned it over,” Bucky says. Sam’s silent, frowning, and Bucky goes on. “Forget about the shield being given to somebody else—it shouldn’t have even been in a glass case. Doesn’t belong there.”

“I do just fine without it,” Sam assures him. The practicalities of carrying that shield around are more straightforward to discuss than his yawning uncertainty in the face of Steve’s legacy and his place relative to it. “The shield would only get in the way of the wings.”

“You and those wings.”

“Hey, they carried me over Tunisia recently. Show some respect.”

“Didn’t hear about that,” Bucky says in a tone that’s difficult to interpret, though Sam squints thoughtfully as he listens.

“Yeah, well, I shouldn’t even be telling the likes of you, but it was discrete. As far as the major players are concerned, I was never there.”

“So it was illegal?”

Sam’s head tips back as he laughs hard.

“Why, you wanna turn me in?” he jokes. “Working on the government’s trust? What’s the next level up from a pardon? Knighthood?”

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Bucky groans, which really does make Sam smile.

“I’m sure it would’ve been illegal if you were there,” he says automatically. Too fast, his imagination fills it in, a fictional alternative materializing in his mind. Him and Bucky, cocky in reckless freefall. Him and Bucky, fighting back-to-back in a plummeting aircraft. Sam screening Bucky from enemy fire with his wings. Bucky deflecting a stray bullet with his arm before it could hit Sam.

“Nah, I can’t do that no more.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you’re an angel.”

“Anybody get hurt?” Bucky asks.

Sam glances through the window at the blue sky, the truck rolling unhurriedly past with the driver’s arm hanging out to catch the sun. Beautiful day. He remembers a kick that sent a guy through the door of the plane, sucked out into the sky, another guy tossed aside who tried to fight him in midair, and a helicopter aflame as it went down. He shrugs and figures Bucky’ll hear the gesture in his voice.

“Nobody who didn’t know the risks.”

“Of going up against Captain America?” Bucky probes. Sam rolls his eyes.

“You know, that would almost be a compliment if you got my name right.”

“Don’t tell me you’re not using the name just to avoid compliments from me.”

“I honestly can’t say which one would feel more wrong,” Sam says, passing a hand over his head as he leans back in his chair, “calling myself Captain America or hearing a little overdue praise from you.”

“I’m not really a words guy. Ask my therapist.”

Sam sits with that for a second. He’s happy that Bucky’s talking to someone. He needs it, badly, after decades of violence and being belted into the passenger seat of his own brain. It’s more than Bucky’s ever admitted to him before, but Sam would bet—and bet big—that seeing some stranger named as Steve’s successor today has gotten to Bucky as much as it’s gotten to him. Something like that is bound to open Bucky up a little. He’s the only other person Sam can imagine the news having such a monumental impact on.

“You could try words,” he goads, not wanting to leave Bucky hanging more than a few seconds after his admission. “What else do you have if you don’t feel like being a human action figure?”

“I have my system. My rules.”

“Oh yeah? What rules?”

“Three of ’em,” Bucky informs him. “Nothing illegal. Nobody gets hurt. Making amends for the actions of the Winter Solider.”

“You don’t have to make amends for something you—”

“Don’t. It… helps.”

And who is Sam to question what’s helping Bucky? After the multiple-lifetimes’ worth of hell the guy’s been through?

“Good for you, man,” Sam offers softly.

“Save it, Sam.” The words are clipped but light. Sam grins.

“No words for me either? You more comfortable with me sticking to actions? How are we supposed to talk to each other when you don’t come to Tunisia with me?”

“Wasn’t invited,” Bucky quips back.

“You mighta been if you answered your phone more often. I’m not gonna send you the details to a covert operation in a text.”

“You wanted me in Tunisia?”

“You get shit done,” Sam acknowledges simply. You wanted me in Tunisia? echoes in his head. His heart’s bobbing like a buoy now. You wanted me in Tunisia? You wanted me?

“Not like that.”

“‘Not illegal,’” Sam repeats. “‘Nobody gets hurt. Making amends.’”

“Right. Can’t do any of that.”

“Well, I’m glad this regime’s working for you, but you have to admit it’s weird that I saw more of you when we were fighting alien hordes.”

“What can I say?” Bucky asks in a tone that seems to consciously flatten the charm out of it. “I’m old-fashioned now.”

Sam snorts.

“You were old-fashioned then.”

“I assume you had a team on the ground.”

“I had to,” Sam says over the sound of a squabble in the other room. Immediately, he can hear Sarah’s voice rising slightly above, breaking it up. Just like that, there’s the looping music of the video game again. She’s raised those boys well. “Couldn’t wait around for you.”

“I might show up if you asked me on better dates.”

“It wasn’t a date, it was a goddamn op.”

It’s startling to hear the sound of laughter. Not hearty, deep, rich, or loud, but definitely laughter. Bucky laughs? Sam backtracks a minute. Bucky makes jokes? About dating? About the two of them dating? Evidently, that is something he’s capable of, along with returning calls during daylight hours.

Sam shifts in his seat.

“You could come around sometime,” he suggests, nervously rubbing a hand up and down his thigh. “If you like fish and you’re ever in Louisiana.”

“I do like fish,” Bucky says. “I’ve been going to this sushi place a lot lately.”

It’s not his taste that surprises Sam—it’s the readiness with which he responds to the invitation. He would’ve sooner guessed that Bucky would tell him to shove it up his ass. In a joking way, but still.

“On dates?” Sam asks, telling himself he’s providing some good-natured hassling and that it has nothing to do with the odd feeling he got when Bucky’s joke about them dating caught up with him.

“One. Mostly, I go with Mr. Nakajima.”

“And that’s not a date?”

Sam laughs and wishes he could shut his own mouth as firmly as he’s (many times) told Bucky to shut his.

“I’m pretty sure he’s in his eighties, so he’s more age-appropriate for me than most people, but I murdered his son,” Bucky says grimly.

“Amends?” Sam guesses, adjusting his tone to cope with Bucky’s emotional switchback.

“I haven’t told him yet, but, yeah, I’m working on that.”

They’re both working on something, Sam thinks. Both confronting something that feels too big to tackle—the decision not to announce himself as the new Captain America, guilt for assassinations Bucky had no control over but which span the better part of a century. Sometimes it seems to Sam that they go up against the easiest situations as a team and face the hardest stuff alone. But he called Bucky, and Bucky called back.

“You could bring some of those amends down here and trade them for a snapper dinner,” Sam proposes, aiming for irritatingly cheerful to pull Bucky back out of the dark.

“What do I have to make amends to you for?”

“Being a dick. I’ll text you my sister’s address.”

Sam swiftly ends the call. There are two possible sources to which he can attribute the small surge of adrenaline he feels: hanging up on Bucky and the fact that he might’ve just asked him on a date. When Sam dialed, he knew it was because he didn’t want to do this alone, but he thought that meant watching the appointment of an upstart Captain America. Although he believed he could count on Bucky’s understanding today and for the near future, asking him down to have dinner with Sarah and the boys (or tricking him into it, since he didn’t exactly say it’d be a thing with the whole family) lengthens the timeline. Near future? Inviting Bucky to meet his family and see where he grew up means recognizing that he’ll be in his life a little longer. Alone? Sam might forget the meaning of the word.

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

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pawjamas · 3 years

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hey..i’ve been back from my stay at the residential facility for several days now and A lot happened, which i’m putting under a a readmore bc it’s potentially triggering (warning for mentions of s*xual abuse/gasl*ghting/etc) my life is basically being uprooted, so much happened in the month of June and is currently still happening, which i’ll explain below

i was admitted to the residential facility on June 9th, it seemed super promising, there was an abundance of 4-5 star reviews from patients online. my friend who currently is working in the mental health field researched about the facility and also confirmed that it seemed a lot better than most places are. the first day was kind of rough and i knew getting adjusted would be difficult but could never have expected what happened the following several days to happen. i made friends pretty quickly, my roommate on the first day there was very kind to me, she told me if i ever needed someone to talk to that she’d be there for me, we also shared the fact we were both nonbinary/just a lot of things we had in common so it was comforting to know her on the first day there.

i spoke to my psychiatrist the next day who told me i could get off “close observations” which is why i was in the room i was, the label is basically something you get put on if you’re at risk for s*lf h*rm/etc and need a staff member w/ you at all times. so since i was taken off of that i was switched to a different room with a different roommate. she was a 60 yr old woman who was in the other program offered at the facility (mine was mental health related and hers was for substance abuse/addiction) i didn’t feel too comfortable around her the first night, she complained about every single thing, she never participated in the groups offered at the facility, she told me over and over again how much she hated being here. the next few days were a blur and are still very fuzzy, my mind is still keeping all the memories locked away which has happened to me many times before w/ trauma where everything’s vague and not fully there.

basically, over the course i was roommates w/ this woman she groomed me and manipulated me into doing anything she wanted me to do for her, she physically/s*xually assaulted me multiple times, and caused my mental health to plummet even further than i thought was possible. i eventually did get to switch rooms, and i only recalled (again, vaguely) what happened those nights about a week later and reported it to the staff where half of them treated it like a joke. i went to the hospital the night i reported everything to get examined and ended up calling my mom on my friend’s phone (she drove to the hospital and stayed w/ me the whole time) and my mom was probably the worse to take my trauma/situation out of anyone. she told me i should’ve spoken up sooner, asked why i didn’t defend myself from this woman, basically the whole phone call was her blaming me for not doing anything about my assault. when i hung up my friend even told me that what she said wasn’t okay, and was victim-blaming.

i left the hospital and got back to the facility around 1:00 am, and the following days i spent there i was continuously getting worse because being in the environment my trauma had happened was preventing me from healing, plus i literally had to be in the same rooms as the person who had assaulted me and seeing her was extremely triggering. she continuously would call me crazy and delusional and that i made the entire thing up, i had difficulty telling what was real and what was not because of how bad i was treated by her and the staff. i’m thankful i met some really kind patients there that became my friends, they helped me the most out of anyone there. at one point a nurse had pulled me into a room and told me how i should never have spoken up about my abuse, how i should consider how it makes my abuser feel, and stop talking to the friends i made about it. but i’m glad i had people who would actually listen.

i mentioned it once but again, my mom was probably the worst person to talk to when all this was happening, at one point one evening when phones were available i called her and told her i needed to leave, i wanted to come home because this all of this was affecting me so badly, and she screamed over and over that i can’t come home and i have to stay, that it’s too bad that happened but continuing to do the program was more important. at that point i broke down and cried, begging her to let me come home and she screamed repeatedly for me to shut up and then hung up on me.

after that evening i knew that i wouldn’t be taking any shit from her any longer, i called my friend who lived nearby about her the following day or so, asked if i could stay with her at her apartment, which didn’t end up happening because we both worried my mom being as spiteful as she is would take legal action if i did leave w/ my friend instead of my mom. i ended up talking to a couple of the friends i made there that i was having bad intrusive thoughts, and that evening i was baker acted (involuntarily hospitalized) and transferred to another facility, which could’ve been because of the staff or me being reported for the thoughts i was having, but regardless i was away from my abuser and didn’t have to see her again.

the hospital i stayed at was...a lot worse than the other place, i barely got to speak to the psychiatrist/therapist during my entire time there, people would joke about how little time you got w/ them. they ended up keeping me there longer than the required 72 hrs, which i asked multiple people why and never got an answer, at one point my mom wanted to make sure i was sent back to the residential facility of which i had to explain would be detrimental to me and my health, but as usual when she had her mind set on something she won’t listen to reason or anyone who explains other (more beneficial) options.

i ended up calling my friend that lived back in the town i live in, told her the whole story and what’s been going on, and ultimately asked if i could move in with her because her and her family had already offered to let me. she was more than happy to have me move in, so that’s what i ended up planning on doing when i got discharged, was have her pick me up instead of my mom. and i called my mom to tell her that i’d be moving out, all the reasons why it’d be beneficial to us both, she took it horribly and told me if my friend picks me up i can never ever come home again and that i’m kicked out. i told her that’s fine, even though it hurt so badly when she said it.

finally, the following monday i was discharged, my friend from back home picked me up along w/ her husband, and we made sure to get all my things from the residential facility (my clothes/shampoo/makeup/etc) before heading back to her house, which was about an hour and a half drive home.

so now i’m staying w/ her, i still feel out of place and disoriented and uncomfortable but her and her family have been very welcoming. i’m trying to get all my stuff from my mom’s but it’s been a huge struggle to get anything from her because she loves to overcomplicate anything and then make it seem as if it’s all your doing and she’s the biggest, kindest saint ever to grace your life. my friends and i all think she has undiagnosed/untreated bipolar, and i definitely think she at least needs therapy and meds too but she doesn’t believe in either for herself. i just want my stuff back, and i do miss my room a lot and jazzy but there’s no way i’m getting either back, i’m also worried how my mom is treating jazzy because she hates him and i’ve witnessed first-hand what she’s done to him before.

i might post my p*ypal / v*nmo (censoring bc i think tumblr is weird abt posts that have these keywords or smth) because i don’t have any income rn...thank you if you read all this lmao i still didn’t even cover half of the other stuff i went through at the place i was baker acted but essentially my life has been turned upside down and i’m having to figure out how to keep going despite it all

#diary 📖#please read if u can #i want to get my tablet back so i can open commissions #idk why my mom wouldn’t let me have it but she’s Super spiteful so who knows #i want my switch too/laptop i especially need my computer ughhh #genuinely when i thought things couldn’t get any worse there was an extra layer of hell for me to fall into

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takerfoxx · 3 years

Text

So long as I'm getting caught up on all my stuff, here's the next installment of the Walpurgis Nights girls watch The Rebellion Story, this time stretching from Homura shooting herself in the head to her talk with Sayaka the vague-poster!

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

=still screaming=

G: Turn it off, TURN IT OFF!

Ok, panicking: I got it, I got it! Off!

=TV winks out=

Ch: Sweet Christ!

=long pause, and then Gretchen gets up and runs off. Homulilly quickly follows=

Ch: This was a mistake.

Op: What. The fuck?

Ca: I should have known. I should have known it would go this way.

Ch: Candy, there’s no way you could have-

Ca: No! There was! I knew how bad it could get! I knew how far we could have fallen! I shouldn’t have let you guys see any of this.

Ok: It’s not your fault.

Ca: I still should have known. I should have at least screened this!

Ch: Yeah, one of us probably should have.

=another long pause=

Ok: So, uh, are we, like, done?

=suddenly Gretchen reenters the room, followed by Homulilly. They silently return to their seats=

G: Okay. Play it.

Op: Gretch, are you sure?

G: I need to know. I need to know what happens to her. I need to know if we turn out okay. Play it.

=everyone exchanges uncomfortable glances, and then look to Homulilly, who slowly nods=

Ok: Okay, if you say so…

Op: We’d better ease it with the commentary. I mean, this isn’t something we can-

G: No! Please, no. The talking…and the jokes…well, it makes it easier.

Op: Sure.

Ch: It’ll be kind of hard to find anything funny about this.

Ca: We can try to do what we can.

=they start the movie, and silently watch as Homura falls in slow motion, blood and brains spewing out. And then…=

Op: Wait, hold up! How is she still moving?

Ca: As I said, something like that won’t kill her. You would need to destroy her soul gem.

Op: So she can straight up just blow her own head off and walk it off?

Ca: So long as the act of healing didn’t use up too much magic, yes.

H: Okay, but why? Why would I do something like that?

Ca: Let’s find out.

…

Ok: Uh…Ooooh.

H: Oh. Really?

G: What’s going on?

H: I couldn’t get rid of the ribbon on my ankle. Every time I tried to shoot it off, Mami would just grow it back. So I tried shocking her so badly that she wouldn’t think to regenerate the ribbon long enough for her to be caught in the time-stop.

Op: By shooting yourself in the head?!

H: Clearly, I have a considerable amount of emotional issues.

Ch: You know, it’s really starting to concern me how you keep referring to her as yourself just now.

H: I apologize. I will try to differentiate between my alternate selves.

Ok: Oh great, now I’ve gone cross-eyed.

…

Ch: So…this is really uncomfortable. Again.

G: Is she going to shoot Cand-I mean, Mami?

Ca: I mean, there’s clearly a moral struggle.

H: Well. At least I didn’t turn out as a complete sociopath.

Ok: This is seriously gross. Can we just skip this part?

Ca: No.

Ok: But-

Ca: No.

Ok: Okay.

…

Op: In the leg. Well, I guess that’s not as-

Ok: HOLY!

G: What’s happening? What’s going on?

Op: Sweet flames, she’s…a ribbon monster? The fuck?

=pause, and then Charlotte starts laughing hard while Candeloro just sighs=

Ok: Charlotte! Explain! Now!

Ch: She did it! She actually did it!

Ok: Did what?!

Ch: You’ll see!

H: Wow, I am…I mean, she is just all tied up now.

G: Wait, Mami’s there? But I thought…then what was…

Ca: Oh, good grief.

Ok: Wait. Wait a second, you can clone yourself?!

Ca: It’s…not so much a clone as it is a puppet.

Ok: Since when could you do that?!

Ca: Um, well, I had figured it out a short time before our, um, deaths. I was training with Kyo…with Ophelia, and we were practicing with her illusion magic. You know, the duplicates?

Op: Uh-huh.

Ca: Well, she suggested that perhaps I could do something similar with my ribbons, since I could use my ribbons to form other objects. And, well…it worked.

Op: Ooooh. Okay, that’s actually kind of awesome.

H: I was fighting a copy the whole time?! How is that fair?

Ch: You can literally freeze time!

H: Hey, wait. How do you know that she could do that, Charlotte?

Ch: How do you think?

Ca: Like we said: our therapist suggested building positive associations around my change. We had to get creative.

Op: Oh, come on, that’s not fair!

Ok: Wait, you were the one betting on her!

Op: I’m not talking about that! When I do my duplicate trick all I can do with them is give Tavi a show! It’s not like she can touch any of them!

Ok: Babe. Relax. It’s honestly fine.

Op: All I’m saying I should be able to give you a lap dance while the striptease is going on.

G: TMI! TMI!

Ch: You, uh, do know that you can give her the lap dance and let your illusions handle the striptease, right?

Op: Do you know how hard it is to handle two kinds of dancing at the same time when you’re horny?

G: Please, I am begging you to stop!

…

Ch: So…I think someone owes me and Fee-Fee some talents.

Ok: Fight’s not over yet!

Ch: It clearly is…

G: You don’t know that! Maybe Homura will drop a hand-grenade to blow the ribbons up! Or maybe Kyoko will come to save her.

Op: Look, if other-me tags in, that’s an automatic forfeit. This is supposed to be one-on-one, and that clone trick is stretching things as it is.

H: Wait, wait, shut up. Wraiths? What are wraiths?

Ok: Dunno.

Ch: Did we miss something? I get that that nightmares replaced the witches, but what are wraiths?

G: Maybe…after I erased witches, wraiths are what replaced them!

Op: We should’ve just watched the damn show first.

Ch: Do you really think it’ll make things make more sense?

Op: Probably not, but at least we’d know about half of these names!

Ch: Jesus Christ, the fuck is that?

Ok: The sky wants to eat that giant walnut, apparently.

Ch: I can see that, but what does it mean?!

G: I think that’s an eye, actually.

Ok: An eye with teeth.

Ch: None of that answers any of my questions.

Op: Nope, this would still be just as weird even if we watched the show.

…

Ch: And here comes the rescue! Via…fire extinguisher for some reason. Sorry girls, Mami takes this.

Ok: Fine, fine. Thanks a lot, Homulilly.

H: Not my fault. None of us knew about the duplicate thing. I had her beat until then.

Ok: Wait, is that a sword?

Op: Guess it ain’t me with the steel chair, then!

G: Well, of course not. It’s a sword.

Op: That’s not…never mind.

Ok: It’s me! I’m coming in to save you!

H: I’m touched. But…why?

Ok: Because I had fifty talents riding on you, and you let me down.

H: Oh, don’t start.

Op: Wait. That ain’t your voice, Tavi.

Ok: Who else has a sword?!

G: Um, who is that?

Ch: Some kind of kid. Candy, do you recognize her back from before?

Ca: No, I really don’t…

Op: Wait, BEBE?!

Ch: Excuse me?!

H: Um…this is…a turn.

Ca: Don’t look at me, I’m as bewildered as you are.

Ch: Oh, so first I’m a creepy idiot doll, and now I’m a fucking child?!

Op: What is this, some kind of alternate universe bullshit?

Ok: I mean, basically. Uh, you okay over there, Charlotte.

Ch: Nope!

Ok: Wanna take a break?

Ch: Yes!

…

=everyone returns after half-an-hour=

Ch: I think I’ve figured it out.

H: Oh?

Ch: Butterfly effect. Like, okay, in this universe, Madoka somehow erased all witches, right? I mean, made it so magical girls don’t turn into witches anymore, right? And did it all through history, right?

H: Presumably.

Ch: So that means that there has to be major repercussions! Like, like, this girl doesn’t turn into a witch fifty years ago, so she doesn’t eat some random passerby, and that rando goes and marries someone that would have married someone else in the original timeline, so they have a completely different set of kids, so the kids they would have had originally don’t get born! So somewhere down the line, things got all screwy and I ended up being born a few years later!

G: Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense.

Op: I guess we’re all super-lucky that we got born at all. And that the rest of us ended up more-or-less the same. Um, no offense.

Ch: Right. That’s all it is. Different timeline, things happened differently, and I’m a little girl in this world. That’s it.

Ok: So…are you okay with this then?

Ch: Oh, absolutely not! But I can at least deal with it now!

Op: Bet’cha anything that good ol’ Bebe here still has a major crush on Mami.

Ch: Oh, God! Don’t even go there!

Op: I’m just sayin’…

Ca: Ophelia…

Op: Stopping, stopping.

H: Shall we continue?

Ch: Yeah, I guess. I’m gonna need major therapy after all this is over, though.

G: We all will.

…

Ok: Okay, I know this is probably a bad time to point this out, but Sayaka has style!

Op: I mean, you’re not wrong. Look at you, being all effortlessly cool! Not that you aren’t already.

Ok: Nice save there.

Ch: Haha, Sayaka’s got it right! Taking on Mami was a dumb idea. Speaking of which…

Ok: Oh, come on! That clone trick was dirty and you know it!

Ch: Oh, I’m sorry. Are you upset that she so happened to have something that counters Homura’s extremely unfair timestop power?

Op: She’s got a point. A bet’s a bet.

G: All right, I guess it’s official. Mami won.

=Candeloro smirks=

H; You don’t have to be all smug about it.

Ca: True. I don’t.

…

G: Wait…

Op: So, what, Sayaka knows what’s going on?

Ok: Of course I do! I mean, I’m the brains of the bunch!

=Homulilly coughs=

Ok: I heard that.

H: I didn’t say anything.

Ch: Well, finally some exposition!

G: I do sort of wish that she’d just tell Homura what is going on without being so vague about it.

Ok: Look, I’ve been pretty much on the wayside this whole movie. Let me have my monologue.

Ch: What’s she getting at though?

H: Oh.

Ch: Huh?

H: I think…Never mind.

G: What is it?

H: I just had sort of a realization, but I’d rather not say it now.

Op: Eh?

H: Hang on. Let’s just watch a bit more.

…

Op: Jesus, Tavi! No need to show Homura up like that!

Ok: Let! Me! Have! This!

Ch: That was pretty cool, though. Shwing! Stopped her cold!

G: Wait, so one of us is the…

=voice trails off=

G: Is it me?

H: Um…

Op: Oh.

Ok: Oh.

Ch: What? Oh, okay. I get it now.

Ca: I sort of put it together too.

G: What? What are…Oh.

=everyone looks at Homulilly=

H: Well, it only makes sense. I guess.

Ch: You don’t seem all that upset about it.

H: Well, at least I get to become my best self in this movie.

G: But…how though? I thought I erased witches or whatever!

Ok: Let’s find out.

Ch: If your other self can ever get to the point.

Ok: Shhh…

…

Ca: Wait, I’m the witch? Is that what she’s implying?

Ch: Pretty sure that’s just a red herring.

Ok: You know, it’s nice that Sayaka is actually being all sympathetic toward witches. I mean, it’s kind of fucked up, isn’t it? That even the magical girls that know the score still hunt down witches instead of trying to help them.

G: I mean, it can’t really be helped, can it?

Ok: I know, I just like that I’m saying it.

G: The Law of Cycles? What’s that?

Op: Probably whatever trippy business you replaced the witch stuff with.

H: Oh, now I’m finally just saying it out loud! Madoka erased witches. Took us long enough to get to that point.

Op: Wait, sacrificed herself? Only Homura remembers her? What?

Ch: Pretty sure this was all explained in the show.

Op: Well, that’s what we get for watching this first. Should we go back and-

Everyone: No.

Op: Cool.

…

Op: Oh, freaky!

Ok: Wait, so I’m the witch now?

Ch: Could mean that in this timeline you turned into a witch before Madoka did her un-witching…thing.

Ca: That is what you looked like. Right before you became one with Charlotte, I mean.

Ch: Er…

Ok: Phrasing…

Ca: Oh, for Heaven’s sake. It is literally what happened. You turned into a witch while we were fighting Charlotte, and then the two of you fused. Then I became a witch and fused with that witch. And then Ophelia became a witch and we all fused together.

Ok: Yeah, but the way you said it…

…

H: Where’d she go?

Ok: Clumsy? You have the gall to call me clumsy? Who just saved who’s ass, just now!

H: Cut me some slack, it’s been a long evening.

Ch: Y’know you still got blood and brains all over your cheek, right?

H: I am certain that Homura does not care.

Op: I am certain that Homura is about to blow the brains out of the first punk-ass that looks at her wrong right about now.

Ok: Headshots for everybody!

H: Except Madoka.

Ok: Except Madoka. She can be the token un-brain-slushee.

G: Gee. Thanks.

Ca: I’d like to just point out that Homura came very close to turning me into a brain-slushee, but changed her mind.

Op: I doubt she’ll let you off so easy a second time.

Ch: Easy. Hey, may I remind you who won that fight?

H: You’re not going to let that go, are you?

Op: Tell yah what. Losing party treats the winners to dinner at the Tradewinds. Fair?

H: Fair.

Ch: Seriously? With the prices they have down there it’ll be cheaper just to cough up the fifty talents.

G: Yeah, but onion volcanoes!

Ch: Hard to argue with that logic.

Ok: So…on a scale of one to ten, how badly is Homura going to flip out when she realized that she’s the witch.

H: I will accept nothing less than a massacre.

Ok: Cool. Just so long as it’s not of us.

Op: I don’t know. The way this movie is going I wouldn’t be surprised if this turned into a straight-up snuff film.

#WN Rebellion MST

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Hesitate

You’re going through a depressive episode, but your boyfriend Sebastian is going to help you as much as he can. Title inspiration: Hesitate by the Jonas Brothers

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x female reader

Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts, small mention of self-harm. Please do not read if this triggers you!

Sebastian wrestled his key into the door of your apartment, growing even more frustrated by the second when he couldn’t get it to turn. Finally he heard it click and your door opened. He grabbed the key out of the door and placed the set of them on the hook you kept by the door. He didn’t quite know what to expect when he opened your door, but he hated what he saw.

You lived in a small studio, even though you stayed at his house most of the time. He’d gone out of town and you’d gone radio silent, which was completely unusual for you - normally you were sending him funny memes, asking him how his day was, or FaceTiming him with your smiley face. But while he was checking back in his apartment in New York for the weekend, you’d stopped. And he knew it couldn’t be a good sign. Over the time he’d known you, he knew you struggled with depression and he understood it because he did, too. But he’d never been with you through a manic episode, at least not one like this. He didn’t know what to expect, but this definitely wasn’t it.

Your kitchen was wrecked, even though you clearly hadn’t used it in a long time. Dishes and trash were piled in the sink and on the counter, making the kitchenette look even smaller. One of the chairs was toppled over, probably something you’d done out of frustration because your bag and its contents were scattered across the floor, too. You hadn’t tried to do your laundry and the hamper was beyond full. Your TV was on and had been playing for a long time, he assumed, because the remote was across the room on the media stand. The couch was a mess, too. You were a lump in bed, curled up so small that he didn’t even see you at first.

“Babe?” He asked. You finally opened your eyes, wiping the little yellow-green pieces of crust out of them, and turned over your sore body when you heard his voice. You tried to sit up, but you didn’t feel strong enough, so you didn’t.

“Hey, I thought...” Your head suddenly throbbed and you shut your eyes, taking a second to think about what you wanted to say. “I thought you weren’t coming back ‘till Thursday?”

“Sweetheart, it is Thursday,” he muttered. “Have you... been here since the weekend?” Your heart started pounding, right away. You started sweating, your stomach churning. You felt sick.

“What? No, it’s...” Your voice trailed off. He had to be playing a trick on you or something. There was no way it was Thursday. The two of you had gone out for brunch, and then you’d dropped him at the airport, and he said he would see you on Thursday night when he got home. You swirled around, grabbing your phone, only to find that it was dead. Sebastian walked closer to you, taking his shoes off, and he got on the other side of the bed.

“Have you been here all weekend?” He asked again. “Baby, do you feel okay?” He put a hand to your forehead, trying to figure out why you’d been in bed all this time. Part of him knew it had to be the depression, but he’d never seen you this bad. He’d never seen anyone this bad before. You started crying as soon as he shook his head, clicking his tongue to say you didn’t have a fever.

“I’ve literally missed a week of work, I’m gonna get fired, I’m gonna lose my job and then the apartment and then...” Sebastian put his hands under your legs and your back and pulled you into his lap as you burst into tears.

“Shh, shh,” he tried to calm you down. “It’s okay.”

“No! I’ve missed a whole week of work because I was too depressed to get out of bed. I just ruined... You probably think I’m crazy now. I ruined everything.”

“No, sweetheart, you didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly. “But I want you to be honest with me. Did you know you were in bed all this time?”

“No.”

“Have you been eating at all? Or showering?”

“I... I guess not.”

“You haven’t even been to the bathroom?”

“I don’t remember the last time. I kind of have to.” Sebastian sighed and hugged you, tightly, listening to you cry for a minute. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Let’s just get you cleaned up and we’ll figure all this out, alright? I’ll call your boss,” he said as he started to rub your back up and down. “I’ll call your boss right now and talk to her. And then I’ll make you some of that pasta you like. And then I’ll help you clean this place up, okay? I’m staying here tonight.” You listened to his plan and were only able to nod in response. You sniffled a little, but the first bit of crying was over. He told you to get up so you did, and you gave him your computer password to find your boss’s number. You nearly cried again when you saw all of the missed messages and emails, but you didn’t have time to deal with it.

You entered the bathroom just as you heard Sebastian start calling your boss. You must have been in bed all of that time because your dirty clothes were the same they’d been because you always did your laundry on Saturdays. You started the shower, even though you felt like you might either throw up or faint or maybe both. You were shaking as you reached for your face wash, noticing that you’d started developing acne. The mirror you kept in the shower showed bloodshot eyes, puffs underneath them, skin that was suffering from not being taken care of. How could you let things get this bad, you thought. How could you possibly let yourself do this?

Just as you were about to pump some onto your hand, the door opened. Sebastian.

“Mind if I join you? I need to shower the airport off,” he said. You nodded, opening the curtain. His eyes checked you up and down, able to tell that you’d lost a little weight from not eating. And then you were ashamed again, backing into the corner of the shower as he took off his clothes. Normally when he came back you jumped at the chance to do things with him, but now you just wanted to hide. You were sure he was ashamed of you, he had to be. Right?

“Don’t hide. It’s okay. Let me get you,” he insisted. He got underneath the stream of water and pulled you into a tight hug. The water was just hot enough as it beat against your back. You wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before taking the face wash from you. His fingers were incredibly gentle as they rubbed over your cheeks and your forehead, then let the milky white cleanser fall off your face. He continued to help you with your hair routine, then let you wash yourself as he washed his hair. The two of you showered together often, and this was no different.

“Am I fired?” You asked eventually, just as Sebastian was about to shut off the water. He shook his head, wringing out a little of the hair he’d been growing out for another role.

“No. Your boss said she just wants you to call her when you get the chance. I talked to your mom, too, and she said...”

“No.” You already knew what he was going to say, and you hated the idea. “No, don’t.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to say.” He shut the water off and started wrapping a towel around your body for you. You noticed him looking at your arms as he did so, and you jerked yourself away from him like an angry child.

“Yes, I do. You’re going to say that you’re afraid I’m going to hurt myself or kill myself and you don’t want me around and...” You could feel yourself beginning to lose control. You were suddenly angry, so angry that you wanted to push him and scream, but you didn’t. There was a burst of energy in you, for the first time in days, and a fire that burned in your chest and threatened to come alive. Sebastian knew what was happening because he just let you go. You walked into the other room and started pulling a t-shirt on, trying to forget about everything you were feeling. You put on a pair of shorts and then you couldn’t contain it anymore - you sat down on your bed and started crying, for real this time.

“You want me to come cuddle with you?” Sebastian asked. “If you wanna do this alone it’s okay.” You shook your head, looking up at him. He had tears in his eyes. You knew you were hurting him by pushing him away and then pulling him back, and you hated hurting him. But you couldn’t help but wonder if that was all you were doing.

“You don’t want me anymore,” you concluded out loud. He looked confused. “You’re gonna tell me that you’re worried about me but you can't deal with me because I’m too much and I need constant reassurance and I need... And I’m jealous, and I’m everything you don’t want, and...” Your voice was lost in a sob. Your heart was starting to hurt so badly and you didn’t know if it was because of everything you’d gone through or if it was the thought of losing the person you trusted the most in the world.

“Baby, I want you,” he said softly. “I wasn’t gonna say any of that. I promise. Just come here.” You let him take a seat next to you and pull you into him. He let you cry for what felt like hours before you were finally done. You had a headache. Your nose was stuffed up. Your eyes stung from the way you rubbed at them when you were upset. It wasn’t a pretty kind of cry. But you were done crying, finally. Sebastian moved you onto his lap, sitting back in the bed, letting you lay there for a few minutes. You took in the sound of his heart beating, the gentle throbbing of it in his chest as it rose up and down. You took in the way that he was rubbing your back, shushing you in a calm voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Stop apologizing to me. I was going to tell you that your mom and I are worried about you. And that we both thought it might be a good idea if you go back to see your therapist. And, if you want, we can try and get you on some medication to make you feel a little better. Maybe give you some more energy to get through the day. I want you to come stay with me for a while so I can watch you. But I need you to be honest with me right now, baby.”

“About what?” You sniffled.

“Have you ever thought about hurting yourself at all?”

“I’ve thought about it. But I don’t... I’m scared to. So I won’t.” He nodded. It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, it was an answer nobody wanted to hear, but it was the best thing you could’ve said to him in that moment.

“Good. That’s so good. How about I start making you something to eat? And you can start cleaning up a little bit. If you’re up to it we’ll go back to my place. If not we’ll go in the morning.” You sniffled and nodded, trying to find the energy to get up. He kissed your temple two or three times, muttering that he loved you.

Eventually you got up and started changing your sheets. You started folding your clothes, picking up the stool that had fallen, and organized your desk. You cleaned your toilet and the shower, then the kitchen. Around the same time, Sebastian had finished making food for you. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were until you ate all of it.

You helped Sebastian clean up the dishes and then you were packing a bag to go stay at his house. You finally flipped the light off in your apartment and gave Sebastian your car keys so he could drive. He had been so concerned that he came straight from the airport - he hadn’t even gone home to change clothes or anything.

“You know I love you, right?” He asked as he stopped at a light. His right hand snaked over to you, grabbing onto the inside of your thigh, his thumb rubbing against the skin you’d just put lotion on before leaving.

“I want to believe you do, but it’s hard,” you muttered in complete honesty. “I feel so un-lovable like this.” You sniffled, not wanting to get into another pity parade but still wanting to be honest with him.

“I know you do. But I love you. I love you and we’re gonna get through this, okay? Together. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, sweetheart, I swear. I just want to help you get better.” You leaned against his arm, shutting your eyes. Eventually you heard him pull into his garage and you got out, bringing your bags inside.

“I guess I should probably try to work some,” you thought out loud, realizing how much work must be sitting in your email inbox. You were only doing office administration stuff, but it could still pile up while you weren’t working.

“Yeah? I need to get some sleep. How about you try to get a little work done and then come and join me. We’ll go for a long walk tomorrow morning, and then we can go get coffee at your favorite place?” You nodded. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a fresh, chilled bottle of water, before walking back over to you.

“Thanks,” you said. He must have known you were thirsty from all of your crying.

“I want you to drink this whole thing before you come to bed, okay?” He instructed. “It’s not healthy that you’re this dehydrated.”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” Your whole body tightened at hearing him say those words - normally he said them in another context, but right now it was what you needed. You were so lucky he knew that. You walked upstairs with him and went into his office while he went into the bedroom, starting to get through some of your work. You didn’t understand how you could be so tired after sleeping for almost a whole week, but you were.

You crawled into bed with him at 3:05 AM. You remembered that time because you looked at the clock on your phone, realizing that while you were gone earlier he’d changed the lock screen to a post-it note you always kept on your desk. One he’d written you. It said I love you, baby. X Your Seba. Your heart melted as you looked at it, putting it down on the nightstand. Then you got into bed beside him, worming your way into his arms.

“Seba?” You said. He was obviously awake because he wasn't snoring, and when you said his name he tightened his grip on you. “Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.”

“It’s my job, baby. I miss seeing you smile. I miss seeing how happy you are to see me when I get back. I miss hearing your voice. I miss you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“And I promise you. I won’t hesitate. Anything you need, I’ll give you.”

A/N: This was... a lot. And probably the most true to life thing I think I’ve written, at least in my experience with depression. If you’re going through the same thing, it gets better. Trust me. ❤️

Taglist: @an-adventureland, @ssebstann, @firstangeldragonranch, @winterreader-nowwriter, @eviemarvel

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan imagine

201 notes · View notes

jungkookiebus · 4 years

Text

The Client pt. 3 | kth

Genre: sexworker!au x smut x angst x fluff (for real this time) Pairing: sexworker!reader x taehyung Word Count: 6k Rating: 18+ Warnings: multiple orgasms (m&f) x taehyung and reader are basically switches x oral sex (m&f) x cum eating x fingering x nipple play x cum swapping? x unprotected sex x creampie Summary: The painful weeks after Taehyung’s accidental confession have the both of you living in agony. Just when the both of you thought you were over the other, you quite literally run into each other in the rain. Taehyung walks away from you into the dark night. Do you have the guts to go after him?

Taehyung’s days drug by endlessly. Each day stretched further than the next when all he wanted to do was get home as quickly as possible and pass out just as fast. When he was asleep at least he didn’t have to think about you, that is, if his brain decided to give him a break. Sometimes he’d dream that he got to replay that night again with you being none the wiser and he never said it. He’d get to see you again. But then he’d wake up to the harsh reality that simply wasn’t true. Then his miserable day would start all over again. He knew better than to request an appointment and he had written and rewritten the same email that now sat in his drafts, collecting hypothetical internet dust. He also made sure not to go to that same café again even if it was close to his office. Any thought of you sent a pain into his chest so sharp he could hardly stand it. You had probably forgotten how foolish he had been and moved on from him, just another client lost to the crowd. And in a way, Taehyung wished for that, but he was very wrong.

Your POV

Two weeks earlier

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes before you could stop them. You blinked fast, hoping they would just go away but the emotion was too strong. Taehyung had just told you he loved you and you could barely breathe as you looked at him, watching as his face turned red in shock.

“Taehyung, please clean up and leave.”

He didn’t even bother using the bathroom this time. He fumbled as quickly as he could with his clothes and exited the room but not before shooting a pained expression in your direction. You tried to direct anger at him because you needed him out of the room as quickly as possible and it seemed to work as he shut the door behind him. You burst into tears as soon as the door clicked shut and you curled up on your side as you shuffled under the blankets.

You had been in this line of work for years. This was your life, your passion and you didn’t see it as some skeezy side job that helped pay the bills, no, this was the job. Your interest in sex and various sexual partners was why you decided to go into this line of work, you had never been made out for relationships and you were beginning to think you were incapable of romantic feelings until you met him. But since this was your job, you quelled those feelings because, just as the job entailed, you had to put on an act. You hadn’t hoped that he noticed the little extra you poured into each session, and maybe he didn’t, but you suddenly felt responsible for this. There was no way you could have a relationship with him, not in this line of work. Jealousy was a bitter bitch and you weren’t about to deal with that.

But what if he didn’t care?

No, shut up. You can never expect someone to be okay with your sex work…

You cried a little harder into the sheets. No feelings. It was in all your contracts because you thought you didn’t have feelings, not in a sociopathic kind of way, but…you gripped harder at the sheets as you screamed into a pillow. Why did this have to happen to you? You needed to get home, but you were too miserable to move. Reaching out of the covers you reached to the bedside for your phone, thankful there were no missed calls or texts, you had to give him that. Going into your calendar you canceled all your next week’s appointments and followed it with a lengthy email feigning sickness and some half-hearted explanation on how to reschedule. You weren’t in the mood to see anyone right now and you planned to use the next week to get a little retrospective.

The week didn’t make anything better. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but he hadn’t tried to contact you at all. He was staying true to your contract’s rule of no feelings, staying out of your way and not requesting an appointment. Maybe he thought you had moved past it and was just hoping you’d forget. That would be the best for both of you. So why did it hurt so badly?

You opened your schedule just for the following Monday and a frequent client took one of your two spots immediately. You almost wished that he had at least tried to schedule but there were none. The regular exhilaration you felt about work was gone as you read the client’s requests. Such bland and boring things. Taehyung’s thighs in the white, silk stockings popped into your head as you dropped it into your hands. You squeezed your eyes and willed your brain to shut up as you groaned inwardly. His sharp breaths were in your ear as he held you close to him, his thigh between your legs. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes again. Why did he have to go and fucking say something? The both of you could have continued living this lie for a little longer. Your fingers dug into the roots of your hair as you willed yourself to stay the fuck away from your phone. Do not go texting or emailing anyone. You felt the softness of his curls dust across your fingertips. Your entire body ached, and you felt feverish. What was this feeling? You hated whatever it was.

Your appointment didn’t go well, which caused you to cancel your second slot and left the rest of your week off the schedule. You weren’t in it. He could tell and so could you. A job you once had passion in now felt cold and it scared you. Maybe when you saw your therapist again, you’d tell her about it, but for now you were going to stay home and away from technology.

Taehyung POV

Three weeks later

The pain had started to hurt a little less as time went by. Enough so that he had agreed to go to a party this coming Friday, finally feeling enough like himself to get out there again. His friend wanted to introduce him to some girl that worked at his firm and figured this was the fresh start he needed.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he held the paper bag wrapped bottle of wine he had procured on his way home from work. He wore a large, soft sweater and dark pants. Soft, he thought to himself. You had always liked when he dressed this way. He shook his head to clear the memory from his mind, wiping it clean with one swipe. Setting his shoulders straight he headed out of the door of his apartment and into the night. The air seemed to be charged with electricity. He squinted up through the city lights to see if he could get any glimpse of the night sky, but he didn’t see anything. One block into his six block walk, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled across the sky. He groaned as he realized his clear lack of umbrella. He quickened his pace, hoping he could make it before it started to pour.

Your POV

The night sky lit up above you as lightning streaked across it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You pulled your sweatshirt closer, not that it was waterproof, but you guessed it was something. You had two bags slung on one arm as you walked back home from the grocery store but had no idea the weather was supposed to get bad tonight.

“What did I do to deserve this?” you asked, face towards the sky as you felt the first drop hit your cheek.

You still had at least four blocks and by the way the wind picked up, this was going to hit sooner rather than later.

“Just don’t let me get pneumonia.”

You walked a little faster as the raindrops picked up. You heard with dread as behind you, they began to hit the buildings and pavement with more ferocity. Cold wind picked up, whipping around you, and bringing with it, cold ass rain. You shivered as it almost instantly soaked into the back of your pants and you cursed the minute you decided to step out of your apartment. You were stopped by a traffic light on a corner, continued to get soaked as you waited for the light to change. You dodged puddles as you skipped across the street quickly and didn’t realize there was someone else approaching just as quickly on the otherwise empty sidewalk. You didn’t have time to react as you ran square into someone’s chest before stumbling backwards. The stranger reached out for you, and to their credit, grabbed your hand but went down with you anyway. The both of you landed directly into probably the deepest puddle you had ever seen in your life, but at this point you were used to your shitty luck.

“Look, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

Your entire body seized in fear because you knew that voice too well and it haunted your dreams, causing the new bags under your eyes. You wanted to sleep to forget, but you were afraid to fall asleep in fear that you might see his face.

“S’okay,” you mumbled quietly, gathering your bag and trying to stand quickly.

The rain poured harder and at this point you were soaked to your underwear and fucking miserable. Your back was to him as you attempted to flee the scene.

“Hey! Wait! Are you okay?” he called after you.

“Fine!” you called over your shoulder. The rain was pouring so hard he probably couldn’t hear you.

You felt his hand on your shoulder before he spoke. You were right under the streetlamp when you stopped dead in your tracks.

“This fell out of your bag.”

You had to turn around to get it back. Walking away would just be creepy and weird. Your hood was still up, but he’d know. You swiveled on your heel and looked up before you even fully faced him. His dark curls stuck cutely to his forehead; he was just as wet as you. His eyes widened in surprise and you looked down at the obvious bottle of wine in his hand. Looked like he was going on a date. So he had moved on. That’s exactly what you wanted so you weren’t sure why the pain in your stomach was so sharp. The apple sat in his hand so delicately and you suddenly missed those fingers more than you expected yourself to. You reached for it slowly and grasped it tightly before taking it.

“Thank you,” you mustered up. If any tears were to fall it wouldn’t be like he’d see them.

He looked pained and in shock. You were the last person he expected to see.

“Y-you’re welcome,” he stuttered out. He turned quickly and made his way down the sidewalk and back into the wet night.

You watched as he crossed under the next streetlight, tall frame falling into shadow again as he moved farther and farther away from you. You still stood, raindrops hitting the plastic bags and making your clothes feel ten times heavier. Your chest burned and you barely felt the cold as you cried, telling yourself to turn around and go home, but everything in your body screamed run.

You barely heard the cans, fruit, and glass bottles hit the ground as you dropped the bags and sprinted in the direction Taehyung had gone. The rain hit your face harder and it felt like you were running into the heart of the storm. He hadn’t left that long ago, so you should catch up to him soon, right?

“Taehyung!” you yelled as you tripped around an outdoor restaurant sign.

Tears fell freely now as you ran, feeling your shoes rubbing blisters on your heels as you slipped in them. Maybe he had turned down another block.

“Taehyung!” you yelled again as you stood on a street corner, but the sidewalks were barren.

You turned in circles, sobs coming out freely now as you gave in to the heartache. You had fucked up everything and now you were paying for it.

“_______?” you heard behind you.

You turned quickly and Taehyung stood, equally as soaked, and still clutching the wine bottle.

“Taehyung.” You were so surprised you weren’t sure what to say.

“I heard you calling me.” You saw the puffs of smoke drift from his mouth as the temperature dropped. You needed to get this out fast.

“I love you, too. I know it’s stupid. I know I said no feelings. I know I made you sign a contract. I never thought I was capable of loving someone else, but you did that for me. Over the months,” you gestured as you laughed nervously, “I started feeling things I had never experienced and that scared me. It was something I talked to my therapist about and,” you realized you were rambling and took a deep sigh. “I don’t want to let go of the one person who brought me those feelings.”

Taehyung stared at you, face unreadable as he searched yours. You felt that strange dread you always felt as a kid when you did something wrong, it ran from head to toe and made you feel sick. He was angry because you had rejected him and now, here you were, telling him you loved him. You knew it wasn’t fair, and you wouldn’t be mad at him if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings now.

The wine bottle hit the pavement with a dull crack as he moved forward. He had you gathered in his arms and lips on yours just as the sky opened a little wider, lightning lit up the buildings in an eerie blue glow. Thunder cracked overhead and tumbled across the sky like falling rocks down a mountainside. But Taehyung’s lips were warm on yours and you felt relief wash through you. Though, you felt as if you didn’t deserve it, he had accepted you.

“I don’t want to keep you from your date.” Your words came out shaky as you shivered, cold hands against his wet sweater.

He looked a little stunned at your comment.

“It wasn’t really…a date.”

Your heart plummeted again, despite getting what you wanted.

“Besides, fuck that date.”

He grabbed your hand and headed in the direction of his home, which was coincidentally not too far from yours, but he was in an upscale high rise closer to downtown. The both of you dripped across the marble of the lobby as he directed you to the elevator. You both stood, shoulder to shoulder, shivering, and exchanging awkward glances as you made it to his floor. Once he had you in his apartment, he turned the heater on low, as he guided you through his tastefully decorated apartment. Expensive looking art donned the walls of the hallway he led you down and each had their special lighting. The bathroom he led you too was fit for hotel suite as he stepped into the walk in shower and started the water. He stepped back out and up to you, hands tentative on the bottom of your soaked through sweatshirt. He pulled the dripping fabric over your head and you shivered as the cold air hit your skin. You crossed your arms over your chest to stay warm as he peeled your sweats off your legs.

“Get in the shower,” he said softly.

You slowly walked inside, easing under the stream of warm water, and reveled in the feeling of your limbs finally defrosting. He followed behind you, stepping under the rainfall shower with you, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close.

“I’m sorry for kicking you out.”

“I breached my contract.”

His hand was reassuring on the back of your head as your cheek pressed against his chest. He was right and you had every right to do what you did, but you wouldn’t have felt bad about anyone else.

“Yea, that wasn’t very fair to throw that at me.”

He held his breath a little, expecting you to tell him the truth, but still not ready when you said it.

“I know. My mouth moved before my brain could catch up and I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

He sounded so sincere in his apology and he hadn’t tried to contact you at all this entire time.

“What now?”

Taehyung’s POV

What were you supposed to do now? He hadn’t really expected to be here in this position. Across the bathroom, his phone vibrated on the counter. Probably his friend wondering where he was as he stood up his somewhat blind date. But he was exactly where he wanted to be three weeks ago, standing here with you in his arms. He wanted to ask if you were real. You shivered slightly as you continued to warm up and he held you closer to him. He missed the feeling of your skin against his. You were here with him and it wasn’t an appointment and he wasn’t under any contract.

Instead of answering your question, he released his hand to tilt your chin upwards so that he could kiss you properly. You sighed softly against his lips and he felt the familiar flutter in his chest that he only associated to being in your presence. His lips were against yours in a gentle kiss, touching just for a moment when he whispered.

“Use me.”

You looked startled by his statement and somewhat confused.

“W-what do you mean?”

His thumb was against your chin, rubbing lightly along your skin as he continued to stare into your eyes. He wanted you to know that everything he said from this point forward was from his heart.

“Use me like everyone uses you. I know it’s your job, but when was the last time you did something you wanted? Use me in any way you want, anywhere you want. You name it, and I’ll do it.”

You were biting your lip as he spoke. He knew you were doing it in thought, but the action had him wanting to bite down on the pink flesh himself, but he waited. You searched his face as he watched the gears in your head turn. It seemed as if this were the first time you were being asked this question. He slid his hand along the small of your back, drawing you closer.

“I’ll give you anything you want,” he said as he dipped lower to your face again. You blushed deeply as he brought his face closer. “Are you shy now?”

“No,” you whispered.

“You know,” he started, “the last session; the one I—anyway, you were behind me one day in a coffee shop by my office, but you were on the phone so you didn’t notice me.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “You looked so casual, so relaxed, so you. I wanted that version of you, so that’s who I created for that session; that was the only way I could really be close to you.”

A knowing sigh passed your lips and cooled the water on his face. “I had begun to wonder…I suspected you had feelings some time ago.”

He felt ashamed for letting too much through and putting you in a difficult position. In a sick way, it worked out for him, but he was hoping that with time you’d let him make it up to you.

“What would you like me to do?” He let his voice drop, sounding gentle, but tried to entice something from you.

Your POV

Your body shook at the timbre of his voice and you wanted to basically climb him right here in the shower. What fantasy of yours did you want? There were so many. A few didn’t fit into this situation, some were questionable, maybe a few were embarrassing, but you knew he would do literally anything you asked of him.

“Do you still have the stockings?”

You felt him grow a little bit harder against you, cock twitching on your stomach as the hand on your back tightened.

“Yes,” he breathed.

“The shirt?”

“It’s at the dry cleaner, but I definitely have a substitute.”

Reaching behind you, you turned off the shower.

“Put them on.”

Taehyung complied immediately, stepping from the shower to grab you a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dried himself quickly as he slipped into the connecting closet. You towel dried your hair so that the cold water wouldn’t drip down your back as you waited. A few minutes passed before he stepped back out of the closet. Instinctively, you started at his feet, admiring the silk wrapped around his calves and then his thighs. His cock was fully erect now, a subtle pink glow to his skin. The shirt he had on looked expensive and tailor made. He left it unbuttoned, but it fit perfectly across his broad shoulders, sleeves ending at his wrists. You walked forward and rubbed the fabric between your fingers. It was the softest cloth you had ever felt, and it flowed like air across his skin. The white of the shirt only accentuated the honey color of his skin as you ran your fingers over his stomach.

“Will this be okay?” He sounded like a child waiting for appraisal from its elder.

“This is perfect, Taehyung,” you said while still running your hands over his body. They now rested on the outside of his thighs. You really did like the way he looked in these.

Slowly, you eased yourself to your knees in front of him. He looked surprised as his eyebrows disappeared beneath his hair. Something primal inside of you stirred as he stood towering over you, wrapped in soft fabric, with his hard cock right in front of your face. To say you missed him would be an understatement. You wrapped your hand around him gingerly, knowing just how sensitive he was. His hips barely moved as your soft hand closed around the base. You ran your other hand up his stockinged thigh, feeling his muscles flex beneath your palm. He groaned as you reached around to grasp a handful of his ass in your hand. Pushing him forward, you guided his cock between your lips and sunk as far as you could, your nose kissing your finger. His hands flexed at his sides as he further became submissive in your hands. He was falling and was more than willing to receive whatever was at the bottom. You held him there in your mouth for a few seconds, letting him feel the warmth of you wrapped around him, tongue moving along the sensitive skin on the bottom of his cock. You watched him as his head tilted down to look at you. His hair hung in half dried curls, framing his perfect face and suddenly you thought you had never seen anyone more beautiful than him. You slipped back slowly, leaving your hand at the base, until just the tip was nestled between your lips like a lollipop. Sucking lightly, you came off with a pop, never breaking eye contact. His body flushed with goosebumps as your eyes continued to dare him to look away. Precum still leaked from his cherry red tip. It glistened in the bright lights of the bathroom, beckoning like a sweet dessert. You wanted more of him, to devour him whole and make him yours forever. Taking him in your mouth, you sank down quicker this time, pulling back and setting a rhythm. His muscles twitched beneath your hand as you kept it on his ass, almost pushing him in time with your mouth. His moans pitched, echoing off the marble walls, a symphony with the most beautiful note. He was biting harshly into his bottom lip as he kept his eyes locked on yours. He wanted so badly to screw his eyes shut but didn’t dare look away. You saw his eyes well with tears, a few escaping down his nose until it dripped perfectly underneath your own eye. Your name tumbled from his lips in quick gasps now.

“_ ____, I’m g-gonna come, oh my god.” He didn’t seem to be getting enough air as he forced his orgasm to wait. His skin was hot beneath your hand and his cock was so hard in your mouth you were sure he was using a great amount of self-control.

Not wanting him to lose it, you pulled off quickly saying, “Come.” Before you sank back down on him, removing your hand and pushing him far back into your throat. His groan was guttural as he almost doubled over, fingers soft on your shoulders in case he lost his balance, as he came in hot spurts down your throat. He was against your gag reflex, but you focused on breathing through your nose and concentrated on your breath. Both hands were tight on his thighs now just so you could feel the way they moved beneath your hands. His hips stuttered forward into your mouth in a few shallow thrusts until you felt the last drops. No longer able to breathe this way, you pulled off his cock and quickly swallowed so that you could exhale.

“Fuck,” you whispered through a raw gasp.

Taehyung’s hands were on his knees as he stumbled backwards, ass meeting the cold counter, and he slumped back. He looked like a perfect statue carved from the most precious stone. His dark hair stuck to his cheeks in sweat or water, you weren’t sure which. The white silk shirt was soaked through and plastered to his skin and it accentuated the soft muscle of his chest. It opened perfectly to expose his stomach and frame his bottom half. His cock was still hard, and the stockings had stayed in place. You licked your lips and rubbed your thighs together as you drank him in. He cocked an eyebrow when he looked at you, finger coming up in a ‘come here’ motion. You stood, sauntering over and his eyes raked over your body hungrily. Slotting yourself between his legs, you ran your finger under his chin, and then your thumb over his bottom lip. He was looking into your eyes, waiting for your next command.

“You have to make me come no less than three times.” You let your eyes flutter innocently to his lips and then back up to his eyes. “By any means possible.”

Taehyung inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer again. With a sigh he kissed you and you fell into it, body, and soul. One of his hands went between your legs as he continued to devour you. You moaned, fingers digging into the stockings as he rubbed his fingers along your slit, gathering every bit of you that spilled on his fingers before circling your clit. You gasped in his mouth as he pinched your nipple between his fingers and twisted lightly. You moved your hips over his fingers, and he stilled, letting you do the work. He pinched a little harder on your nipple as he bit down on your bottom lip. You moved faster now, circling, and grinding your hips on his fingers. God, how you missed these fingers. You were all but crying into his mouth when your muscles began to tense. Your calves ached as your toes curled painfully, but the pain wasn’t going to make you stop the rhythm that was soon going to send you over the edge. As your whines pitched and your entire body began to shiver, Taehyung twisted your nipple harshly and pressed harder against your clit. You ground against him, breathing heavily through your nose as Taehyung seemed to be intent in gathering every moan you had. You couldn’t help the clench in your jaw when you came, making your lips immobile against his. You keened and your breath seized in your chest. His lips were at the corner of your mouth as you wet his fingers even more, hips slowing to a halt as you finally let out an exhale.

“One,” he whispered as he placed a kiss to your cheek.

Your body was already beginning to feel the sleepy side effects of your orgasm, but you knew you could take it. He pushed you back lightly as he stood in front of you, placed his hands on your shoulders and switched positions, picked you up and sat you on the edge of the counter.

“Now it’s my turn,” he smiled as he dropped to his knees. He spread your legs as wide as he could, warm hands on the insides of your thighs, so that he could get a better look. Your skin shone with your cum and Taehyung didn’t want to waste another second without tasting you. He leaned forward and licked a long, slow stripe up your center. His tongue dipped inside of you quickly and curled. He drew it back out and swallowed.

“How does it taste?” you asked as you buried your fingers into his hair and pushed him a little harder against you when his lips were back on you.

“Mmpf,” he moaned into you as he fucked you with his tongue. His nose pressed against your clit as you wound your fingers into the hair at his nape. He shook his head quickly against you and with your other hand planted on the counter behind you, you began to move your hips against his face. Taehyung wrapped his arms around your thighs so that he could pull you as close as possible. His eyes opened to meet yours and his pupils were so blown that you could no longer see the chocolate color there. He looked beautiful between your legs on his knees, almost as if he were born for this. His mouth told you this truth. He knew your body more intimately that any other client you had ever had. He knew the perfect ways to edge you, and at the end, have you coming so hard that your vision darkened. He moaned now, sending vibrations straight into your clit. Your entire body was so hot, and it was soon hard to keep your sweaty palm from slipping against the counter. Holding his head, you ground as hard as you could and with the combination of his tongue and the deep rumbles escaping his throat, you came again. He kept his mouth on you, tongue hot inside as you clenched. He drank you in as if you were his last meal. Gently, he nuzzled his nose against your swollen clit, licking up all that he could of you. When he sat back, you saw your creamy cum on his lips and chin. You grasped his chin, forcing him to rise on his knees as you came down, licking the cum from his lips slowly. It was bittersweet against your tongue and Taehyung moaned. Your tongue was past his lips and the taste of you was even stronger on his.

“Are you tired yet?” he asked smugly when you pulled away.

“You wish.”

His smile was devastating as he stood. What you wouldn’t give to see that smile every day of your life. Were you willing to sacrifice for him? Mid-lust ____ probably shouldn’t think about this right now. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you as he leaned, looking at your face.

“Can I make love to you?” he asked.

Your body flushed and shivered involuntarily, and you felt new arousal bloom in your stomach. Something about the way he said it had you wanting to simultaneously coo over him and fuck his brains out.

“Yes.”

What more was there to say? He rubbed his cock along your slit and your gaze cast downwards to watch. The stockings still looked perfect and the shirt was still giving him every favor. He pushed in slow, feeling your swollen walls take him in fully. When he bottomed out, you gasped and clung to his shoulders as his hips began to move. His breath shuddered against your skin as he buried his face into your neck. His fingers dug into your hips as he quickened his pace. You weren’t sure what you did to get blessed with someone whose cock curved perfectly into your g-spot, but in this moment, you weren’t complaining. Your clit was already so sensitive that any move against it had your stomach clenching and your eyes rolling. It really wouldn’t take much for him to make you come a third time and you were really hoping he wasn’t taking this as a challenge. You wove your hands under his arms and dug your fingers into his shoulder blades as you pushed yourself more into him. Taehyung breathed heavily against you.

“Are you going to come, princess?” He picked his head up and was now placing hot kisses to the underside of your jaw. Your body felt as if it were about to melt through the counter and you clung desperately to him. You couldn’t even talk, your chest burned, and he was hitting your g-spot so rapidly that you could barely form a simple word. But for him, you would do this.

“T-tae,” you stuttered.

He didn’t stop as his lips that were against your cheek, parted. “Yes?”

“I love you,” you whispered as you gave into the feeling of him. Your third orgasm hit and this one melted into your body, soothing and erasing all the bad things that had happened in the past few weeks.

You weren’t sure if what you heard from him was a choked sob or just the sheer force of his orgasm, but seconds later he spilled inside of you, hips still moving. He shivered in your arms again. You let him thrust through his orgasm even though you felt as if you were on fire. You’d do anything for him. When he looked at you again, you realized that he had begun to cry. Tears welled in his soft eyes as he cupped your cheeks. He sniffed and his eyes moved rapidly as he looked at every part of your face. Your hands were on his wrists, gently applying pressure.

“Tae, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head as he sniffed louder and laughed. The tears spilled freely now and the juxtaposition to his smile was almost haunting.

“Nothing’s wrong.” His tears slowed and his dewy cheeks began to dry. His hands were still pressing softly into your skin as he seemed lost for words. “I just still can’t believe you’re here.”

The full weight of his feelings for you and all the emotions you flowed through the last few weeks, came rushing down on you like a tidal wave.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, too!” he cried as he quickly wiped at the tears escaping the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. We’re meant to be happy right now, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said as you gently shushed him. “I am happy. That’s why I’m crying.”

“So,” he whispered softly, face open and innocent, “do you think we can make this work?”

Could you? Who knew? There was much to talk about, and you weren’t even sure where you would start. You definitely needed to talk to your therapist about this but, right now, you knew you didn’t want to let this feeling go. You had gone years thinking you weren’t capable of love or being loved. Who knew it would take a client of yours to pull out those feelings you were sure your brain had dumped at birth? How far were you willing to go?

All you knew was that you were ready to traverse even the most difficult path if it meant Taehyung would be waiting for you at the end.

“Yea,” you whispered back as you squeezed his wrists a little more, “I think we can make it work.”

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #reader insert #sexworker!au #nonidol!taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung #the client #part 3

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Note

Which of your ocs would go to therapy for or with their darling? How much effort would they actually put into it?

This is like tricking your dog into going to the vet.. y'all are evil

This story contains: them talking about their dark past, incest(twins), talk of sex

Theodore

Absolutely not.

He's a doctor so he would argue that he would know his own body pretty well

"i don't need therapy sweetie, I'm mentally healthy"

This is the same man who flinches at the sight of a butcher knife and has so much mental trauma he still gets scared touching you

If you beg he'll do it though..of course he'll be passive aggressive but he'll go.

Tries to out logic the damn therapist

"so theodore, describe your childhood"

Theodore pushed his glasses up and clears his throat, this was definitely not going to be good. "I'm well aware that a person's childhood shapes their mental state but I assure you this is a waste of time."

"theo, let them help y-" you shuddered at the sharp glance theodore gave you. You've never seen him so aggressive before but it was clear he wasnt having fun. He hated the thought of someone analyzing his every movements and play with his head since it's something he does to you so having it done to him is less fun. "I assure you, I'm mentally sound..nothing is wrong with me"

"alright well, how about we talk about your childhood anyways just chatting nothing serious?"

Theodore scowled before glancing your way, you were doing this cause you loved him..so he should go along with this right?

Hikaru

You have to trick him

You brought it up once and he lashed out at you so badly he actually hurt you pretty bad

You told him you wanted to shopping but when he saw you two were infront of a building that definitely wasn't a mall he was PISSED

He was about two seconds away from hitting you but he saw how much you wanted to help him so he gave it a shock

Aggressive as all hell

He couldn't believe he was here, a group therapy session for victims of sexual abuse. The male sat there in his expensive clothes with his diamond encrusted shades on a scowl on his face.

"so, would you like to introduce yourself and tell us why you're here?" You flinched lightly at the single question the therapist asked before glancing at hikaru who in his legs and pushed his shades up his blue eyes flickering with rage.

"I'm here cause my bitch of a soulmate decided to drag me here instead of a shopping trip like they promised, I could be at home getting my dick sucked but no in here surrounded by idiots" hikaru was definitely in a fiery mood.

"well hikaru, y/n brought you here bec-"

Hikaru huffed in anger cutting the doctor off his anger being never ending. "they brought me here cause they think they are so smart. Their job is to please me in anyway I see fit, in return I spoil them once in a while and I am NOT pleased." With that Hikaru got up before shooting you a dirty look.

"you have ten minutes to meet me in the car or you're walking home" he snapped before walking out the room. You apologized for hikaru before going to join him.

Axis

The first one willing to go

He thinks it will make a great date

Tells his therapist EVERYTHING

Honestly he sounds so chipper about it they look so worried for him

Like sir are you okay?!

Clams up when it comes to insecurities

Like nope.

He only goes once though cause in his eyes therapy is a going once event

"- then my brother salem poured bleach in my eyes! I know it was bad but I of course forgive him cause all siblings fight right? He's really great though! Like one time we were playing hide and seek and he couldn't find me for six hours haha!"

you nervously glanced at the horror stricken expression the therapist had, they were so shocked they werent even taking notes. "Your brother sounds extremely toxic and incredibly dangerous" they stated and axis paused with a light pout clearly offended.

"salem wouldn't hurt a fly!" He huffs out and you weren't sure this was helping too much..though you were glad he decided to go.

Salem

So his therapist had to see a therapist

The first three minutes he had to wear a muzzle cause he tried to eat his therapist and not in the fun way

He is so feral he just speaks in slurring words and barks

You have to put a collar and leash on him

He did leave with a mouth full of blood though cause he bit a huge chunk off his therapist.

"s-s-so, salem w-what do you think c-caused you to be this way?" The doctor spoke while standing on their desk as you tried to pull the leash hard to pull salem away. "Bad boy! Stop it!" You snapped out at salem who got his muzzle off and was attempting to devour the poor therapist. "I-im sorry he's usually much calmer than this, strangers make him hungry" you explained before seeing salem bite the therapist on the leg.

"salem! No! You don't bite people!" You scolded as you tried to pull the male off and once you did you decided it was time to go home now. "W-well thanks doctor this has been fun, let's go salem!" You dragged him away while shaking your head.

"y/nnnnnnn~"

"...yes salem?"

"I love you!"

You glanced at him seeing he was docile once more and you sighed "I love you too babe" you mumbled out not sure what to do.

Rin

His therapist quit.

He trolled them so hard they gave up

Spoke in meme quotes the whole time.

"rin, would you say you were a happy child?"

"yeet."

You face palmed at your boyfriend who was hellbent on annoying the therapist to death. This session has already been thirty minutes and while rin was holding back his laughter the doctor looked like they wanted to snap their clipboard.

"please rin, work with me here..."

Rin beckoned the therapist to come closer and when they leaned in feeling excited thay they made progress rin's eyes sparkled widely. "Big...chungus"

You and rin walked out the office after being kicked out since the therapist had an absolute mental breakdown. "You're an asshole.." you mumbled and rin wrapped an arm around your shoulder with a wicked grin. "I'm your asshole, babynow how about we dress you up then have clown sex? I say that's equal payment for this"

Yuki

He hated it

He was quiet the entire time

Like the entire time

He wouldn't answer a question or nothing

He legit fell asleep with his head in your lap and now sees therapy as a place to nap

He doesn't like strangers so there was no way in hell he's speaking to a stranger.

You sighed at the tense silence in the room as yuki buried his face into your stomach his head in your lap. The moment he got here he took a nap not really caring about the doctor or his questions..it's been this way for a full hour. Slowly yuki opened his eyes and sat up with a low hum, he leaned in to kiss you feeling really clingy until he heard the shuffling of another person.

yuki tensed up suddenly wrapping his arms around you his chin rested on your shoulder. "Y/n, home?" He questions with a grumpy pout. You ran your fingers through his hair with a loud sigh.

"yeah yuki, we can go home.."

prince

He sees himself too cool for that stuff

"I'm not going, therapy isn't my vision of a fun date. Foreplay and sex is a good date"

He doesn't like the idea of sitting in a room and talking about his feelings.

If you promise to let him finger you during the car ride he is totally In though

He doesn't take it seriously at all

Avoids all the questions

Ends up just boasting about his sex life for an hour

"y/n moaned louder that night than ever before, it was so fucking awesome" prince cheered out his eyes lit up. You were covering your face with your hands feeling nothing but embarrassment as prince went all and on.

"t-the question was what makes you happy" the doctor stated and prince gave a confused look. "Yeah, and I said sex I mean wasn't that clear?"

"prince could you perhaps be a nymphomaniac?"

"shit, maybe? If I don't bang at least twice a day I get all grumpy...speaking of bang on the car ride here it was fucking great y/n let me-" you covered his mouth not being able to handle anymore of this. "We'll be going now!" You snapped out now dragging prince away.

"you're sexy when embarrassed"

"shut the hell up"

Rocket

He is literally the least dangerous yandere

He thinks he's fine

But he goes and actually speaks about his life

Everything about his life seems so cheerful and good...until..it isnt

Like axis he speaks as if it's okay

He's a dumbass so therapy doesn't really help him

He just uses it as a way to spend time with you

"so what was your childhood like?"

"well, I grew up in a small village we owned a pretty big farm. My mother and father kinda liked to spoil me.."

You've never heard about his childhood so you were very engaged in this story..it sounded pretty nice. Rocket paused to think when suddenly his eyes lit up

"I ended up being chosen to be the village pet! It was such an honor!" He cheers out with a happy hum. Instantly you knew this wasn't going to be good but you let him explain.

"the village pet is like...hmm a handyman, they do basically anything the villagers don't wanna do it's hard work but it's good work." He explained

"what were some of the things you had to do?"

"well...solves disputes, help out on there people's farms, help procreate, honestly anything! Only way to leave the village as a pet is to choose a new pet. It was hard to pick someone..but I'm glad I did"

The room got very very silent...very fast.

Rocket gazed at the time before getting up. "Hey y/n we should go yeah? You promised we could go get ice cream if I do this with you"

Yuuji& yuuta

Lord...these two got so much fucking baggage

They go, but they see it as entertainment

A fun little joke

Until it's not

The therapist manages to make them fight

And that NEVER happens

Like never.

It gets super damn intense

You're over there like "damn okay."

You watched the two boys argue clearly upset with each other. The question was that if yuuta found yuuji attractive..and yuuta hesitated.

"so you don't think I'm cute or anything?"

"I never said that! I just think, you're not my type."

"how the hell could I be not your type?! I know exactly what you like and don't like! I please you all the damn time!"

You cleared your throat awkwardly, not sure if going to couples therapy was a good idea anymore.

"I'm just saying! You sometimes..don't hit it quite right I mean..it's fine everyone has their ups and downs"

"OH so I'm bad at sex now?! You're such a liar cause on the drive here you were screaming like a little whore!"

"anyone can fucking scream yuuji! Doesn't take damn rocket science! Y'know I'm starting to see why ushio fucking hates you! You think you're so damn high and mighty! This is why we can't have normal relationships with our siblings!"

The room got silent as the two panted softly the screaming working them up and yuuji turned his head away eyes glimmering with tears. You honestly..felt like you were watching a drama show and was totally into it. "I-i didn't mean that- I'm sorry I just-"yuuta mumbled out and yuuji sniffled.

"do you..hate me?"

"wha-"

"ever since we came out when we were younger, you've been trying to be such a tough guy..you don't even say you love me as much. So, do you hate me?" Yuuji explained and you watched as the two hugged.

"of course not! I-i just didn't want anyone to still see me as that girl who was scared of her own shadow" yuuta whimpers out and yuuji smiled at him "you're not her, you're a strong guy.. our strong guy and we love you so much me and y/n" yuuji whispers out planting a kiss on the boy's cheek.

As the three of you left you suddenly felt an arm link with yours on either side. "Enjoy the show dollface?" Yuuta chimed before yuuji giggled "it was very fun!"

"you two were faking it?!" You huffed out seeing them both nod. They were totally lying but they didn't want you to know that, after all they were twins..fighting was basically illegal to them.

Scarlett

Another person who isn't happy with therapy

Straight out refuses

Like nope.

Never.

It takes A LOT of convincing til she agrees

Another member of the "has a bad childhood but sees it as normal" group

Hers is downright horrifying

But she giggles it off

"my childhood? Hmm..well my father was a doctor, I was his little nurse" she said softly in thought and you immediately didn't like this.

"he taught me all about plants, poisons and human biology. He was studying human mutations he wanted to know if it was possible to have humans evolve animal like traits, by replacing their body parts for animal ones of course" she cheers out and interlaced her fingers together.

"such an interesting study, some of them works in some ways..though it seems the human body can't handle some things..we are such fragile creatures are we not?"

Scarlett had this creepy dangerous vibe about her and the session was instantly cut short due to your therapist feeling unsafe. As you two walked out you couldn't help but gaze her way.

"who were his victims?" You asked out softly before feeling her hold your hand with a smile. "Well, children from my school. Then..me" she stated softly causing the haira on the back of your neck to stand.

"what animal part did he give you? Did it work?"

"it worked.."

That was all she stated and you didn't hear anything about it ever again so you were left to wonder about it.

#yandere imagines #yandere #yandere ocs

34 notes · View notes

sleepy-yn · 4 years

Text

Stray Kids: Reacting to their GF Missing Them

A/N: This is basically something I’ve been daydreaming about fjfdjkk so there’s that. Basically their Gf’s record themselves on tiktok to the song “Mr. Loverman” and “Me and my Husband” and the boys see it. ALSO the boys don’t have a dating ban here and they are public with their relationship (some more than others) NOT PROOF READ

Chan:

You were still in Uni and it was stressful being a student

it’s also very stressful when your sweet boyfriend lives across the world

you had visited him for a week recently but, obviously, you had to go back home

it was one of those early morning study sessions because you really needed to pass this quiz

you looked up at the picture frames on your desk and tears started to spill over the keyboard

you missed chan so much it hurt in your chest

like if there was a hole where your heart should be

you decided to scroll through tiktok as a way to escape from your sadness

that’s when you heard the song “Mr Loverman” for the thousandth time and you decided to let your feelings out

chan’s fans knew he was in a relationship but he cared too much about your privacy that he never introduced you to his fans

after you finished uploading the tiktok, you decided to get back to studying

chan was finishing up his work for the afternoon when Felix came into the studio

“Hyung look” he shoved his phone into chan’s face

we all know felix has a secret tiktok

Chan saw you sitting at your desk, tears in your eyes and several words on the screen

the familiar lyrics “I’m Mr. Loverman, and I miss my lover man” while he read what you wrote broke his heart into a million pieces

“i miss him so much. I want to see him again.”

tears threatened to spill from his own eyes as he watched you look so broken

felix took that as his cue to give chan some space

He needed to see your face even though he knew it was late

accepting the facetime call, you almost sobbed at seeing your handsome boyfriends face

“Hey babygirl’

“hi channie”

“Why are you still awake, love?”

“i miss you too much” you said in a whisper, a pout on your lips and your voice quivering

it was all about to spill out again, your emotions were just not in tact at the moment

“baby please don’t cry” :( i’m literally about to cry writing this

He wishes so badly that he could be there to wipe your tears

chan hated seeing you sad, you crying was his ultimate weakness

After calming down, he told you to stop studying and get some rest

he hummed the familiar tune to you while you fell into a soft slumber

you bet your ass that he booked the soonest flight to go see you

Minho

please i can’t get enough of this gif

so you lived in korea with minho

you both lived in an apartment together and although small, it was your home

you worked as a therapist for young adults and dealt with a lot every day

you and him never really saw each other during the day because of how busy you two were

it was comeback season so that meant he was rarely home

actually, he wasn’t home at all; he stayed at the dorms with the boys so that transportation and work was easier

so the house felt even emptier and although you were extremely supportive of the boys you missed your husband

so one night when you got home from work, you just burst into tears

a patient of yours talked about losing his first love and yadayadayada

it just hit you for some reason

but you knew it was stupid to cry, you should be happy your husband was back with his brothers and doing what he loves

so while you made dinner you continued, you listened to the playlist you made for these types of scenarios

and with your luck, the song “Me and my Husband” started playing

all the emotions you had been holding in flowed back out as you related to every word

what you didn’t know was that Minho was done early today and was making his way back home to you

and at the perfect moment, when the line “But when he walks in, I am loved” he walked in the door

turning to look at him, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face

jumping into his arms, he staggered back a bit but held you nonetheless

“Did someone miss me?” he smirked

“oh shut up and kiss me” and that he did

all your sadness faded away and the stress taking place in your body relaxed

“you really missed me didn’t you?” he said, wiping what was left of your tears

“yea yea, now come help me with dinner”

he couldn’t wish to be anywhere else but here with you

Changbin

look at his smile pls

you and changbin have been married for about a year now

his fans were super supportive and they honestly were warning HIM not to break your heart

you were a youtuber and a producer who made music for groups like KARD and VAV

so obviously you and changbin barely saw each other when you two were busy

however, you had a day off but changbin on the other hand had to help chan with a song

even though today was your anniversary, you made him go help out chan

your marriage was important but you knew how important music is to him and the boys

looking around the house at the pictures of the both of you, you started to get teary eyed

all the memories came hitting you like a bus rip george o’malley

you decided to put all these memories into a video not only to put your emotions somewhere but for the fans as well

but there was a twist at the end no one expected

while Changbin and Chan were focused on the track they were working on, Jisung came in to show changbin something

“Just look”

changbins attention went to the video in front of him

there you were doing your makeup and a couple textboxes showed up talking about how depressed you were in the past

you were not in a good state of mind and weren’t sure life was for you

that was until Changbin walked into your life *cue “But when he walks in I am loved”*

He smiled at all the pictures of you and him; your first dates, the proposal, the wedding, and more couple pictures

but what he wasn’t expecting was the last picture

there you were, holding a pregnancy test with a hand covering your smile

bet your ass all of twitter was already talking about it, that’s how jisung found it

both chan and jisung were hopping off the walls congratulating changbin

He packed up all his stuff and rushed home as fast as he could

when he walked in, there you were in bed watching his music videos

He didn’t even say anything, all he did was kiss you and hug you so tight in his arms as if your were going to slip away

“So I’m guessing this means you’re happy?”

He kissed you again “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to surprise you” you shrugged

he layed in bed with you, head on your belly

“See that? Those are your uncles, they already want to meet you” you giggled

“and that is your daddy, I’m going to protect you with all I am. I already love you so much”

“what are you doing, Binnie?”

“shush woman I’m talking to my baby

you rolled your eyes, “i was your baby first”

He cupped your cheek and looked into your eyes

“you still are, you’re just my big baby”

giggles filled the air as you two wondered what your future would look like

Hyunjin

now hyunjin is a special case

all your days were filled with laughter and fun, your relationship was never dull

but recently he couldn’t be with you as much as you wanted

there were rumors about hyunjin dating and him and the company weren’t sure whether to deny or admit it

so for the mean time, you two couldn’t see each other for a bit

your days began getting dull and gray, you missed your energy boy

it didn’t help that you were just about to graduate and the stress of your future was filling your head

one day, it got too much and you spent the day crying

you missed hyunjin so much and wished he could be there with you

so what do you do to organize your thoughts?

make a tiktok

choosing the song “Mr Loverman” you record yourself sitting in your bed, head in your arms and curled up in a ball

the text went along like

“If it benefits him, I want him to let me go. I miss him so much but I know that this means the world to him. I just want to hold him”

of course the viewers had no idea what you were talking about, except for one

felix walked towards where the members were having dinner

“hyung look”

watching the video and listening to the lyrics, his chest felt so heavy

he wanted to throw everything up because the sadness was eating him up

“i have to see her”

although the boys were worried about the media and what the company would say, they still let him go

sitting on the floor against your bed listening to the song on repeat, you didn’t hear hyunjin come in

spotting you, he sat in the spot next to you

you jumped and looked at him with wide eyes

“hyunjin you can’t be here! what about the company and the saesangs and-”

he kissed you and held you in his arms

“i don’t care about any of that. If i can’t have you, I don’t want any of it.”

there you two sat, holding hands and looking at the moonlight from your window

he didn’t need to have supporters when his main supporter was sitting right next to him

Jisung

i miss minsung omg

you were an idol and it was no secret that you and jisung were in love with each other

but your companies forbid you two from being with one another, at least until you had a couple more years of being an idol

you and jisung had to pretend you were best friends, but that also meant no seeing each other very often

you wanted so bad just to say fuck it and come out to the public anyway

but you knew how much music meant to him

both of your fans weren’t even mad about the rumors, they were more mad at the invasion of privacy

one day, you had a video scheduled to do a cover

and what song did you want to sing? “Mr Loverman” of course

there you sat, in a blue turtleneck topped by a brown coat and plaid tennis skirt

as you sang, the lyrics just kept getting to you

you didn’t cry but when fans watched and analyzed the video, they noticed parts where your eyes watered

stray kids were one of the first viewers

there they sat in the dorm in front of the tv

watching you sing, they all praised your voice and how pretty you looked

but jisung noticed how the song affected you, and honestly it affected him too

he got his jacket and left the dorm, ignoring the boys calls and yells

arriving at your apartment, he knocked softly

and there you were, in one of his sweaters and tears in your arms

before any of you could say anything, he hugged you and tucked his head into your neck

“jisung?” your hands played with his hair

“ we can make this work, i don’t want to lose you”

after a while of talking, you too were just watching tv and cuddling, *like in the gif*

you didn’t want to be anywhere but with him

Felix

this gif makes me fall more in love with him

Felix and you have been a couple for about a year and a half

your fans loved how wholesome your relationship was

he was the light of your life and was the biggest energy booster

felix was always cooking and baking for you

now you were another idol but you were a solo artist

you also compose songs for groups like day6

so one day you were on the radio show that young k brian hosts

“so y/n, you are very open about your relationship with Felix. what is a song that reminds you of him or your relationship.”

you talked about the song “Me and my Husband”, making sure to remind people that you and felix aren’t married yet

so they asked you to sing a part of the song for them

as you sing the lines “But when he walks in I am loved, I am loved”

they all talked about how nice your voice was and continued talking about your career

but at one point, there was a phone call to the radio show

it was felix, you were so shocked that he would call but nonetheless it made you giggle

during the call, he told you to look over the the door

you looked over and there he was, drawing a heart with his breathe that hit the window *like in the gif*

you blushed and laughed at him

you can guess how much twitter was freaking out over the interaction

at home later, you thanked him for making your day

“i just love being your number one supporter”

Seungmin

im so in love with him

although seungmin and your relationship was fairly new, you two didn’t spend as much time together

you knew each other’s boundaries and knew how much your personal lives mattered

but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss each other

you were still in school technically but you also were an intern at a hospital

this meant that you didn’t have time to spend time with seungmin since you were either at your internship or studing

your favorite pastime was tiktok and playing the piano

so in the small free time that you had, you would post covers on tiktok and you gained a huge following

seungmin and the rest of the boys followed you on their personal accounts they have one and we all know it

However one day, you were missing seungmin terribly

your body ached for the feeling of his hugs and kisses on your nose

your followers kept suggesting for you to cover the song “Mr. Loverman” so you used this opportunity to let your emotions out

Seungmin was scrolling through his following on his tiktok account and he found your new video

your sweet silky voice filled his ears and he couldn’t help but smile

but his heart was starting to feel heavy and he noticed how your voice broke just a bit

after he finished watching and saving the video, he decided to video call you

and there he was, with so much love in his eyes

“I missed you”

“i miss you too minnie”

the two of you kept on the conversation being the sweetest couple ever

he made sure to never let you feel like that again

Jeongin

hes growing up so fast im crying

you and innie were still in school

and we all know how he is so obviously being in a relationship was fairly new and crazy to him

however you had a semi career on youtube where you posted singing and dance covers of numerous songs

recently, your music teacher assigned for you and the rest of your peers to sing or create a song that you relate to deeply OR reflects on your life

you browsed through songs like Gone Days, Zombie, and other various kpop songs

but you wanted to be different and do an english song

you were pretty good at english, since it was a class you chose to take

you also knew that your viewers were wanting an english cover on your channel for a while

deciding to chose the song “mr. loverman”, you started to record

unbeknownst to you, these videos were going to be shown to several other classes

one happening to be jeongins

while in the big auditorium, several students gasped and praised your singing skills

jeongin, however, looked over at you with stars in his eyes

after school, you both went out to your favorite cafe and back to the dorms

“you sounded really good” his cheeks were heating up

“i was singing about you, you know”

that earned you a kiss on your cheek and cuddles the rest of the day

115 notes · View notes

lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

cosmetology anon: this is for you, although I tweaked the idea a bit. i hope you don’t mind!

Acquiring Tony Stark as an Asset had been purely by chance; after all, he wasn’t planned on being in the car. He was still an insolent teenager, angry with the world and angry with his father. They didn’t think he would’ve gone to a business party.

But his mother...well. They hadn’t thought that Tony Stark was a mama’s boy.

Because there Tony is, gasping for air while glass glitters all around him, looking near about like an angel that was torn from heaven with how it surrounded him.

They had thought he was dead.

At least, up until the point when he had looked Winter Soldier dead in the eye, said “hey you fucking asshole” and got a pretty damn good shot in the thigh.

Someone on the brink of death might have tried the gun, but never the insult.

So Hydra gets a brand new toy.

Not easily broken, which is a pain-and-a-half to deal with. At least with the Winter Soldier, he was too delirious with blood loss to notice who was operating on him, what they were attaching.

Tony Stark is on a whole other level.

He bites, he kicks, he scratches. Quite annoying, they just want him to tire himself out.

“Stark Industries doesn’t negotiate,” he hisses, trying to kick one of the nurses in the teeth.

“Who said anything about negotiating?” says the head doctor viciously. His teeth glint in the fluorescent lighting, scalpels reflecting brilliantly onto the walls. “As far as the media knows, you’re dead. No one is going to come looking, and no one even knows who we are.”

They make him sleep on a cot nearby Winter Soldier. Which is terrifying, to say the least. Not that he can kill him. He can’t touch him either.

He’s in a deep freezer. Eyes closed, thank god. But they put him there and they tell him all about how he came to be there.

“Everyone thought Barnes hit a rock and died,” one of the techs says, checking the machine. “He nearly did, but Zola helped us fix him up. Course, that was after a couple of times where he got to someone’s neck, and that was even before programming.”

“Programming?”

The tech leers at him, grinning. He’s standing, Tony’s sitting. It shouldn’t be as intimidating as it is.

“Oh yeah, Stark. They’re gonna fix you all up.”

“I don’t need fixing.”

“Tell that to Winter Soldier.”

“And what if your little machine gets rid of me, hm? Kills me?”

“We add you to the other disappointments, or we dig a shallow grave and hope you’re found decades later.”

Not exactly promising.

But here’s the thing: the tech was wrong. They won’t add him to the pile of disappointments.

The last time he went to a therapy appointment, his therapist said he had a “deep-seated need to be liked and be useful, which could be dangerous later.”

He’s assuming that Doc Chesterfield wasn’t exactly expecting Tony to be in the running towards becoming America’s Next Top Murder Machine, but Doc wasn’t really the kind of guy who was “in the know” about a lot of things.

That need to be liked and useful was about to come in handy.

Barely able to legally drink, he goes to the main doctor in charge. “You need me.”

The doctor looks at him incredulously.

“You think we need a kid to do all this shit? You think we haven’t figured it out?”

“You can’t have Barnes-”

“Winter Soldier, boy.”

“Fine, your little toy soldier. You can’t keep him out longer than necessary, otherwise his brain realizes that all of you are shitty and tries to break out. Again. You need someone else to take a look at it, and I’m the best bet you got.”

“And why would that be?”

Tony grins, and they see a shadow of what he has had in his life, exactly just who he used to be. Who he still is, at the moment.

“Whether you want to admit it or not--I’d say go ahead and admit it, I’m fun like that--I’m the smartest one in the room, maybe in the country. Maybe in two countries. I could swing the UK, it’s not like they’ve had anything interesting for the last hundred or so years--”

“Get to the point,” the handler hisses.

“I can help with arm maintenance. I’m not gonna do anything else to this poor guy, but I wanna stay alive and I’m not letting you erase my fucking mind because you want to have another toy soldier to march to your drum.”

“You almost make a compelling case,” the handler says. “We do need a mechanic on the arm, so to speak. But if he only comes out when we need him...well. Maintenance is manageable.”

Tony pushes his chin out.

“I can do better than your best.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t care. You’re too big of a liability.”

It is at this moment that Tony realizes he cannot talk his way out, or fight his way out, but damn he gets a scalpel and tries.

Manages to slice across the face of the handler. Nerve damage, tissue damage, quite potentially a very ugly nose. All very nice.

That gets him moved up by a month.

They send him to a chair that’s probably a lot worse than he’s imagining, give him a mouth guard, and tell him to scream all he likes. Sometimes it’s better to not have a voice later.

They say it like they’re quoting one of those shitty articles from Cosmopolitan that discusses the top forty-five best ways to move in the bedroom or something. He and Rhodey use to read it all the time whenever they visited one of the sororities.

(He misses Rhodey, more than words can say. The tears burn in his throat as the chair powers up, but he doesn’t dare cry. He hasn’t told them about Rhodey, and he doesn’t want him used against him.

He doesn’t want to be used against Rhodey.)

Tony Stark becomes the Mechanic. He stares too long, moves a bit slow at times, and doesn’t like people touching his things.

Hydra thinks it’s a success.

Tony thinks they should’ve done more than three sessions of go-round for their little buzzy-chair.

Just god, have none of them had to act before? Is that what this is?

So long as he doesn’t show any aspect of any real personality, they think he’s a walking-talking robot.

Should’ve just called him Chatty Cathy and attached a pull-string to his back with loadable phrases if they were just gonna call him the Mechanic and think his silence and weird staring habits were fine.

Winter Soldier needs maintenance.

Tony tries very carefully to keep his persona up. He thinks he’s doing a good job until the nurse leaves the room for her smoke-break and Winter Soldier gives him a look that’s so...different.

"They think you’re like me.”

“I am.”

“No.”

“And how can you tell?”

“You’re not hurting my arm.”

“Well I can, if you wanna be a masochist about it.”

He blankly stares.

“Why didn’t it work?”

“Not enough rounds.”

“We need to stop talking or they’ll watch the cameras.”

“Got it.”

Tony is not facing the cameras. They have no suspicion now, and if they can’t see him move his lips, then there’s no worry.

He faces Winter Soldier.

“You wanna get out of here? Tap once on your left, right on my thigh for yes. Twice for no.”

Tap.

There it is.

“Well, it’ll take time. You okay with that?”

Tap tap.

“I can’t make wishes come true,” Tony says sarcastically. Soldier hides a smile. “But. I have someone who might be looking for me. Or he’ll know it’s me.”

“A friend?”

“Something better. Family.”

It takes a little while. Despite Hydra’s incompetence at programming Tony out of his own system, they’re good at watching. They’re good at sniffing out undercover plans, so they set nurses to watch him and give him the worst food in his life.

And he can’t say anything about it.

They’re probably rations leftover from World War II, and here he is, pretending like it doesn’t bother him.

The first mission they’re out on, Tony wants so badly to break free. It looks too easy, probably because it is.

“The first time I escaped, they dragged me back and nearly gave me a matching leg to go with the arm,” Soldier murmurs in Russian.

(Tony’s had to take Russian classes. God, he’s lucky he has an eidetic memory otherwise he’d be up a paddle with a slotted spoon.)

“What, didn’t want to put more value on yourself?”

“Something like that,” Soldier says grimly. “Pay attention. They’re gonna put you in a cafe, have you run surveillance. You report back to me. Call me Winter.”

“Call me Mechanic.”

“That’s the name they chose?”

“Didn’t count my vote.”

Winter snorts.

“Time to get a move on.”

Tony has never been good at hiding his emotions, but by god he’s learning on the fly. At least Winter has a mask, and they’re...well, they’re working on one for him.

It’s not exactly priority, because everyone in the world thinks he’s dead.

Well. Shouldn’t say everyone. There is one guy who has decided that Tony didn’t die.

James Rhodes is a very smart guy, graduated top of his class at MIT and has full honors.

He also knows that Tony has fallen off of beds, out of chairs, down one flight of stairs, and tripped on just about everything.

And he’s lived. He has defied near-death experiences before, and he’s been fine.

Maybe Rhodey is crazy. He most likely is.

But he doesn’t mind being crazy if no one can actually confirm that Tony died. The funeral was closed for the family, not even Rhodey could go.

“Sorry kiddo,” Obie had said, not sorry at all. He’s never liked the kid, thought him too blunt about situations that he didn’t need to be blunt about.

So Rhodey thinks that this is a conspiracy, only he doesn’t want his best friend to end up on a YouTube video five years later talking about the “tragic disappearance” and how “no one could figure it out.”

He’s James fucking Rhodes. Sometimes goes by Rhodey. And he’s got this.

Winter Soldier does not “got this.” He is currently being thrown against a wall, and grunting as he looks at the target.

Tony is currently trying very hard not to have a full-blown emotional show-off, because he is supposed to be fixing up some of the weapons and sending them out.

It is rather stress-inducing, once you start thinking about it.

He tries not to.

God, he’s not even getting pizza after that. He’s probably going to get some bullshit like a vanilla nutritional protein shake.

Out everything he’s been put through, and that’s the thing that makes him retch.

Barnes is looking...rough. He got shoved a lot, the mission didn’t exactly go to plan, which turns out to be quite the large problem.

Because Tony took over. They found out that he can actually assemble weaponry and aim with nearly-one-hundred-percent accuracy.

They think it’s because they fried his brain and injected some sort of back-alley-serum.

It’s not.

He’s not even sure if their serum worked, if he’s being completely honest.

But this? Oh god.

The doctors look at him with an almost giddy joy.

“We’ll have Soldier train you.”

"He is not going back into the cryogenic chambers?”

“No, not...not until you prove yourself.”

“I have proven myself accurate with mechanical fixes.”

“Always best to diversify your skills.”

“Expand.”

(Tony’s been messing with them a lot. They’re not positive he knows advanced vocabulary. He does, he just hates them.)

Barnes is...not exactly excited that he’s not becoming an ice-pop.

“I’m...training you?”

“Yeah, looks like it. You wanna teach me how to choke someone with my thighs?”

“Only when they send the Widows.”

“Who are they?”

“Best damned assassins you’ll ever have the displeasure of experiencing.”

“Aw, you’re learning how to curse!”

“Shut up, they’re onto us.”

Winter Soldier and the Mechanic have a...cordial relationship. At least, out of the ring.

In the ring, they don’t rather like the other that much. Mechanic much prefers to avoid Soldier at all times.

“You can’t just run from every opponent,” Winter hisses.

“You’ve been doing it since 1948,” Tony responds in a robotic tone, nearly missing a kick to the shins. “I don’t see why not.”

He smiles at that one, looking at Tony.

He was...Tony was unique. He would whisper stories in the dead of night, mostly about a man named Jarvis and a boy his age named “Rhodey.”

“His parents...they didn’t actually name him that, did they?”

Tony has to bury his face in his pillow to hide his face from laughing.

Winter got a good look at that smile.

It’s chillingly nice to look at it, and maybe that’s because he hasn’t smiled in years, or maybe it’s because he’s never seen another person smile with joy in it for decades.

For a couple more months, nothing on their side happens.

Rhodey, however, learns how to use Tony’s homemade AI for illegal purposes!

He’s figured out lots of things.

Tony was never confirmed dead. Technically, he’s a missing person.

Which means they don’t know if he’s dead because they never found him.

Secondly, there’s a strange email to someone who goes by Zola.

Well, Rhodey and Tony didn’t stay up until three a.m. to solve impossible codes for nothing.

James Rhodes figures out that the Winter Soldier isn’t some whispered about myth, and so he decides to try and find him.

He’ll need to ask Mama if he can use the sedan, but it should be fine. After all, he has a friend to find.

Hydra is getting too used to having them out. Tony’s been coaching Barnes on not letting his reactions be at the front and center.

He’s remembering a lot more. Starting to become a bit more human-like.

He actually doesn’t like the food now, which is a tasteful improvement.

“When we get out,” Tony whispers in night. “I’m going to make sure that you get the best goddamned pizza the earth has ever seen. And we’ll celebrate your birthday.”

“When is my birthday?”

“I...huh. I don’t know. That’s not the fact I remember from school.”

“So you remembered that my favorite movie star was Hedy Lamarr, but not my own birthday?”

“In my defense, Ms. Lamarr is far more memorable than a simple date on the calendar.”

Barnes smiles.

“I can’t wait to see a picture of her.”

“You will, soon.”

Rhodey is getting close.

The only barrier is convincing his mama to use the sedan.

“What for?”

“A trip.”

“To?”

“Washington DC?”

“Why are you questioning that, young man?”

“Um, because of gas money? Maybe?”

Mrs. Rhodes stands up to her full height of five-foot-two and stares.

“What’s the real reason? I didn’t raise a son who could lie to his mother successfully.”

Rhodey sighs.

“Tony’s alive. I think. I’m, like, ninety-five-percent sure.”

Her face softens.

“Oh baby, you’ve talked about this with your therapist, and-”

Rhodey glares.

“It’s not about the therapist’s opinion, mom. I broke into some records. There was a closed-casket funeral, and technically? They didn’t have a body for Tones. I know he’s out there, and I think I got a lead with the help of Jarvis.”

“I thought Jarvis was dead.”

“Not Edwin, Mama. Tony’s creation, an AI named Jarvis.”

Mama looks at him carefully.

“You sure this is what is going to make you happy?”

“I don’t care about being happy, I want to see if I can bring him home, Mama.”

She dangles the keys.

“If you scratch this car up, I will not hesitate to tell every single aunt at church about this and have common sense walloped into you.”

“I promise I won’t,” Rhodey says. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll pack you a bag. And you need your church clothes.”

“Ma...”

“Don’t Ma me, I’m your mother, I know what’s best,” Mrs. Rhodes says, sweeping into the kitchen. “Don’t tell your daddy what you told me, you’ll give him a heart attack.”

“I thought I was gonna give you a heart attack,” Rhodey says.

She turns, eyes twinkling.

“You got a lot of learning to do, young man. But go on to DC for me.”

First stop: gas station.

Next stop: saving Tony.

If Tony had known that his friend was so dedicated to saving him that he would drive his mama’s sedan five miles above the speed limit, perhaps he would have stayed put and played nice.

But Tony did not know this, so he was currently working on fixing Barnes’ arm to shoot projectile missiles that looked like screws to the security cameras.

“You think they’re counting each screw when none of them even know what your arm can actually do? Not like Zola is physically around anymore,” Tony mutters, holding a screwdriver in his mouth.

“What’s your plan for escape?”

“Element of surprise, my dear Watson.”

“Don’t like that,” Barnes mutters. “What’s your plan once we’re out?”

“New York City.”

“That’s it?”

“You underestimate exactly how much you can hide,” Tony says. “Believe me. We’ll live in an apartment in Queens.”

Rhodey is about ten minutes away.

Tony and Bucky have eventually decided to break out, and are having a lovely time shooting a base and putting people through the walls. Really, they shouldn’t have made it out of drywall. Too easy.

“What fucking vehicle are we taking?!” Barnes yells.

“I...I will work on it!”

“You didn’t think about that?!”

“I was thinking about escaping from a shitty Hydra base!”

Here comes the sedan!

Rhodey thought there was only one person, so now the ex-assassin is sitting on his little sister’s school folder, and getting pink glittery on his military pants.

This was not the plan.

He is also still only going five over the speed limit, because this is Mama’s sedan.

He forgot about the little sticker at the back that says “My Son is on the Honor Roll at MIT!”

“Rhodey love of my life, please go faster than forty miles an hour,” Tony hisses.

“I can’t believe you’re alive, let me do one thing at a time,” Rhodey stresses. “I bought you hot fries, they’re on the floor in the green bag.”

“You thought of road trip snacks?” Bucky asks.

“Yes! And who are you?”

“Bucky Barnes.”

Rhodey whips his head around.

“You lived?”

“I’ve been told. Eyes on the road and turn left.”

One tire barely is on the road as he whips the wheel, slamming onto the curb.

“We are not allowed to fuck my mama’s car up!” Rhodey yells. “Tony, Bucky...do whatever you have to.”

“How amenable are you to me paying for a new back window?” Bucky asks, left arm already raising.

“What do you mean-?”

And...there goes a projectile!

After twenty minutes of driving around, ten of that being avoiding police blockades, they finally are out on the highway, no one in sight.

Tony finally breathes.

“Put on your seatbelt,” Rhodey murmurs. “To New York?”

“To New York.”

By all accounts, the table of three men who look slightly rattled and in danger is not actually the worst table that waitress has ever had.

In fact, the only odd thing that she’s going to say about it is that the young man on the left is wearing a polo shirt, and it is not Sunday, so no church services. A personal outfit choice.

The man in the middle seems to know this.

“Rhodey, seriously?”

“What? It’s laundry day!”

“I know you had other shirts. I know you did.”

“Just because you hate polo shirts doesn’t mean you get to hate on me, especially after the shit I just pulled.”

“He has a point,” says the man on the right.

“You have no opinion on this. I just met you.”

“Are you guys ready to order?” She asks nervously, tapping at her notepad with a chewed-up pen.

They all stare blankly at the menu, and then back at her. She taps her pen one more time.

“I’ll...um...give you some more time.” She shakes her head. She’s not gonna ask, she doesn’t get paid enough.

Rhodey looks at the two of them. He knows that things...well.

Tony probably isn’t going to be playing Jeopardy! with this experience.

Hell, he probably won’t want to see a therapist about this, and Rhodey will have to play Jeopardy! or some obscure dating show simulation with Tony to even help.

And then there’s the matter of a man who’s supposed to be dead.

That and...Rhodey decided to finish up college with a master’s degree.

No one ever said life was easy.

But.

It might be fun.

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