#food is not worth getting up dressed ad going out in the cold for but my friend isnt even going to dinner so she cant bring me a sandwich.

[deuce-agere]

Do you think you could post more about working out while regressed? I’m trying to work out more, but also regress more, and things like weight lifting tend to pull me out of regression, but your posts makes it feel more comfortable to do them together!! Thank you either way

I’m so glad that my posts help you feel more comfortable!

For me personally, working out has always been something that helps me regress. I think it’s the gender euphoria of it all, since I heavily associate fitness with my gender expression and discovery.

The number one rule for me, regressed or not, is to have fun. Especially when you’re trying to start getting into working out. No one wants to do something they don’t like, especially when it’s going to make them tired and sore. If you need more cardio and you like dancing, then dance more. Find the workouts you enjoy for each area of your body. As you grow to enjoy working out more you’ll find it easier to do the parts you don’t like.

Take things at the pace that you need. You will never enjoy working out if you try to start on a higher level than you need or try to work up too fast. Modern gym culture has lead people to believe that it is bad to be a beginner, but it’s not. If you need to do push ups from your knees, you do push ups from your knees, it will make you stronger and it will work your muscles.

Many gyms have a calisthenics section, and they often include big structures that are kind of like adult playgrounds. My gym has monkey bars, they very in height to make it more challenging and so they can be used for other purposes, but they have them. If you’re a kiddo who likes climbing that could be a lot of fun for you.

Get fun water bottles and/or stickers for the water bottles. Get fun headphones, mine are green dino themed (I like them because they remind me of crocodilians) Use colorful and fun workout equipment if you’re buying your own. Wear workout clothes that you like and you are comfortable in, I usually just wear one of my t-shirts and some sweats. Sometimes dressing the way you want can be scary but anyone who judges someone else at the gym is not worth your time.

Come up with games and play pretend. Sometimes while I workout I will pretend I’m Hercules, and I’m training to become a hero so I have to work really hard. You can pretend you’re in a race, or that you’re a super hero. Make it fun in whatever way you can.

Make a playlist of songs that make you feel small and/or pumped. I have a lot of Hercules on my workout playlist because it helps me regress and motivates me toward achieving my fitness goals.

You can even try watching kids exercising videos. YouTube has lots of workout videos for kids. Sometimes following an instructor is easier than following a list. They have easy and fun workouts for you to try if you want to give them a shot.

Your diet is important too! But it doesn’t have to be boring ‘grown up’ food. I make my chicken, rice, and veggies with dino nuggets. Chocolate milk is a great after workout drink, and if you’re looking for big muscles you can get some with extra protein. If you use enough frozen fruits and a small enough portion of cold milk (or non dairy drink) you can make protein shakes with the consistency of milk shakes or even straight ice cream! And there is never shame in eating what you want and then adding what you need. If you need chicken nuggies to eat a salad, then eat those nuggies with your salad.

Let yourself enjoy your fitness journey. It doesn’t have to suck, no matter what gym and diet culture tells you.

You’ve got this!

#agere #age regression #fitness agere #powerlifter agere #agere positivity

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @i-am-still-bb​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Sick Days & Ice Queens

—

Kili patted another fistful of snow into a snowball. He rolled it over in his hands making sure that it was solid and that it fit nicely into his hand. He set the completed snowball onto the pile and promptly scooped up another handful of snow. He was so focused on his task that he failed to notice that the school down the street had let out. This was always accompanied by yelling and laughter, and on today, the final day before Christmas break, it was no different. 

When his mother had taken his temperature that morning and told him that he was going to be staying home—school rules—he had pouted and hurled himself into his bed. The final day of school before the break never consisted of much work. It was usually just a Christmas party and some “housekeeping” as his teacher called it.

But Kili had a fever of 100.3. So he had to miss all the fun. He didn’t even feel sick. His mother had not listened to his protestations; he had already received his first dose of cold medicine.

Fili had pushed open the door to their bedroom before leaving for school. He was already dressed in his coat and hat and his gloves dangled from the cuffs of his coat. “I’ll bring you some cookies?” he offered.

“It won’t be the same,” Kili huffed, face buried in his pillow. 

“I know,” Fili agreed.

Kili rolled over to look at the bottom of the top bunk. Glow in the dark stars  were dull against the wooden boards. Some paper snowflakes hung near the foot of the bed. He sighed. “Why aren’t you sick?”

Fili shrugged. “I don’t eat food off the floor,” he teased.

“That was one time!” Kili protested loudly. 

Their conversation was interrupted by their mother calling for Fili, saying that he was going to be late.

“I’ll see you after school?” Fili offered before turning the corner.

“Yeah… I guess…” 

Kili spent the morning mopping around the house and driving his mother crazy with questions and being a general nuisance. There was nothing on the television worth watching after 9am unless he wanted to watch toddler shows, soap operas, or the news. His GameBoy batteries were dead and he couldn’t find new ones. And he did not want to read a book, thank you very much. When noon rolled around Dis fed him a lunch of vegetable soup with alphabet noodles and grilled cheese. And then she took his temperature again. 

99.8

And with that she declared him better and shooed him out the door before his coat was even fully zipped.

Kili stayed outside and that was where Fili found him a couple hours later when the knees of Kili’s snowsuit were soaked through and his cheeks were red from warmth and exertion rather than cold. He had constructed a wall of snow using an old ice cream tub and had dragged the plastic play furniture from the shed into his snow fort. 

Fili stopped next to the snow wall. “What’re you doing?”

Kili’s head snapped up. “You’re home!” he exclaimed. “You can help defeat the ice queen!”

Fili dropped his backpack on the snow. “How do we do that?”

“Well we have to be older,” Kili said matter-of-factly. “Like old enough that you have a beard. And then we have to go to the faeries to get their help.”

“Faeries?”

Kili nodded vehemently. “They’re the only ones that know how to defeat the ice queen,” he said, then added as inspiration struck, “Maybe they have a magic potion! Or a sword! Or—”

“A magic spell!” Fili interrupted, already getting sucked into his brother’s imaginative play.

“Yes!” Kili nodded.

“I’m going to get my boots and then I’ll be back,” Fili said. “My toes are already wet.” He lifted a wet sneaker as proof. 

“Can you bring Oscar when you come back out?” Kili shouted at Fili’s back before he disappeared inside.

“Yes,” Fili shouted back. 

Fili returned a few minutes later with different shoes and his own snow gear and a wooden reindeer clutched in one fist. He set Oscar down on the table. 

“So how do we find the faeries?”

Kili spelled out his plan and the two of them traveled through “Mirkwood” to the “Long Lake” their imaginations turning the bushes that were icy and had a few leaves still clinging to their mostly bare branches and the koi pond in their neighbors yard turning into a dense and magical forest that bewitched its visitors and a lake that was visited by a dragon. The air was cold and tasted of snow, but the two boys stayed out until the street lights were coming on. 

“Fili! Kili! Dinner time!” Their mother called them away from their play and everything drifted back to reality. Oscar was a wooden toy, not a warm companion that made sure they didn’t fall into the lake or the river. The plastic play furniture was no longer a wooden table laden with rich foods to tempt them away from their quest. But the invisible Ice Queen was still out there, undefeated, as the dense covering of snow was proof.

The boys rushed inside knowing that tomorrow they could build a different world with their imaginations.

#submission #Gathering 12 Days 2023 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

[greetingfromthedead]

C51: Spring

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Series Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Chapter: 51/84

Words: 1.9k

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You sit on the bed alone, the tablet in your hands. Hours have passed, and you switch between dream filled sleep and pacing around the room. The memories piecing themselves together have given you a headache again, but it pales in comparison to the pain you had felt before. Vash settled into his old room a few doors down. You want him to rest, so you asked for a separate room. You wouldn't want your restlessness to disturb him. And you want to figure out your feelings—do you love him, or is it all just an illusion?

You scroll through the files on the tablet, and you read old reports about both the calamity on your home planet and the time you spent on Earth. The information you uncover still leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Some of the memories related to the videos and logs come to mind. You remember your childhood, your friends, and your family, and it seems like a dark cloud follows you, bringing misfortune and pain. Part of you wonders if it is all worth remembering instead of living in ignorant bliss. But it's not like you have a choice; you couldn't live with the voices anymore, and they are finally quieting down. It's like you were right; they demanded to be remembered, and now they find peace. The buzzing in your head is still there, a constant reminder that there is still one large mystery left to discover.

You spend the whole day in your room, mostly sleeping, as that way the headache doesn't bother you as much; it's just a never ending stream of memories of your past life. So much of it seems strange to you—the way you spent time with other humans, you were a part of them; together, you worked towards a common goal, but there wasn't real care behind your actions, just a duty. Vash came by a few times, but you were either asleep or pretending to be. He left you food that you didn't touch, and for a while he sat in a chair by the door. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him; the feelings inside you were still a stormy mess. You had never felt truly this way about anyone; the love for your family and friends felt different, and the affection towards former lovers didn't compare either. Is it different because it's fake, or is it different because it is true? He sat quietly for an hour before leaving with a slight sigh. It does make you feel guilty, but the pain from hurting him would be worse.

Luida stopped by too at some point, but you decided to ignore her just as you had done with Vash. You had enough information to sort through without adding to it, and you didn't want to be face-to-face with the question of how you are feeling or doing. She just tucked you in a little more and left shortly after.

It has been hours since Vash replaced your lunch with dinner, but you still haven't touched it. You have no desire to do so. It must be night already. You wonder if you should go on a walk through the ship, just to see how well you remember it, but there are other things on your mind.

You get out of bed and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You are wearing a ship's crew dress, just without the one piece underneath, as a nightgown. All your stuff went to get washed, as your bag was filled with sand. You try to imagine yourself as a staff member here, just working on something on the ship, even though you know it wasn't your role. All your memories of the ship were actually from before launch; you were trained to operate the machinery and given extensive tours, but you would have been woken up only after arriving at a suitable planet or shortly before. Different scenarios run through your head. What if the ships didn't crash? What if they did crash, but you were still in cold sleep? What if nothing bad happened and you made your way as a human to a new world? Thoughts of Vash come to mind. Would you have met him in that new world? Would you have gotten close?

You sigh deeply and walk out the door into the corridor and move a few doors down, hesitating by Vash's room. You wonder if he's asleep, but you choose to open the door anyway. You see him lying on his side on top of his blankets and covers. He is wearing his regular clothes, minus the glasses, coat, and gun.

"Iris?" You see him starting to turn onto his back.

"Don't move," you gently ask before he gets too far; he still can't even see you. "Please. Stay as you are."

He freezes for a moment, but then settles in again. His arms are around a second pillow that he seems to be cuddling. You walk up to his narrow bed and sit onto the edge of it with your back towards him.

"How can you have no doubts?" you quietly ask.

"Because my feelings aren't a mystery." His voice is calm and tender. "I know why they are there. It all makes perfect sense to me."

"What do you mean?" You turn your body towards him and look at his back.

"Well, because they didn't appear out of nowhere. The moment I met you, there was something I saw in you, true, but it's more than that. I know why I love you; I know why I feel the way I do. And while it's sometimes irrational, there's still a reason behind so much of it."

You lean closer, pulling one of your legs onto the mattress. Your hand reaches out to touch him but stops short of his body. You recognize the pillow he's holding as yours; it's dirty from the desert and lumpy from use.

"I love your being." Vash continues quietly without making an attempt to look at you. "I love your kindness and the way you protect people. You might say it's not genuine, that it's just your guilt and shame, but I don't think so. I think you've been through so much hardship that it has made you a gentler soul than you want to admit. You are so strong, and I'm so proud of you because, after everything, you're still standing, you don't abandon a fight, and you always find strength to go on. Your unwavering spirit and resilience take my breath away."

Your hand touches his side and gently strokes down, settling on his waist as you lean your whole body closer. You know every curvature of his body, every last detail; it feels less like an uncontrollable desire you have for him and more like he's home to you, like your hand belongs in his, like your skin touching his is the most natural thing in the world.

"You have a fire in you that could lay waste to anything you wished, but you only ever use it to warm up someone else's heart. The fierceness in it is undeniable to anyone who has seen it, and the undeserving should be scared of it, but I love the glow of it. Your eyes are magic, so beautiful; they remind me of starlight; looking into them takes me on adventures I can lose myself in."

You settle your cheek against his side by your hand. You can feel every breath he takes through the movement of his rib cage as he continues to list every way he loves you.

"You were never scared of me; not once have you flinched away in fear. You have always been unwavering. You showed me what it's like to be valued for my being. You made me feel things I didn't think I would ever get to. I fell in love with you because you made it feel like I was in an old storybook, a fairy tale I read as a little boy on the ship when life was easier."

Your hand slides over his body to rest on his stomach while you gently pull him closer.

"You have enchanted me in every way since the day I met you. The way you speak, the way you think, the way you act—it captivates me in ways no soul has ever done before. You realized the darkness inside me, yet you kept looking at me like I'm a sun. Rem told me how seasons changed on Earth, and perhaps they did on your home planet too. She told me how after a hard and cold winter comes spring, which brings new life, and how the world comes alive with colors and a warm, soft breeze. I have never experienced it myself, but I imagine it feels the same as meeting you. You're my spring."

You look up and see his loving eyes on you, a gentle smile dancing on his lips as he pauses.

"Loving you is like breathing to me. It's so natural and so easy. And I can pinpoint everything that I adore about you. I can list them off, and I would keep talking till the last star in the galaxy dies. But the reason is not because you are partially Plant like me."

His hand reaches out and gently touches your forehead, where he has left a million kisses before, and you can feel every last one of them tingle on your skin.

"That's how I know," he says, smiling wider. "I will love every part of you, even the ones you think are unlovable."

"I..." you are speechless, "...see."

He turns around carefully so as not to fall off or push you; the pillow in his arms falls to the floor with a light thump. He looks so tenderly at you as his fingers push aside your hair and trail down your cheek. He leaves his hand on your neck, his thumb resting by your ear after you adjust yourself better to lay beside him.

"I saw your markings glow. You looked like a goddess; I doubt I will ever see anything more beautiful than that."

His touch radiates warmth through your body that even you can feel. It's not so much the temperature; it's something much more than that. The butterflies in your stomach feel like they want to escape through your lungs.

"You're right..." you say, looking into his blue eyes. "I never should have doubted this, cause I too know why I feel the way I do. And while part of it is because you make me feel safe and sane and make everything bearable... it is so much more than that. I look at you like you're a sun because, to me, you are. You always manage to brighten up my days with everything you do. Your laugh is infectious, and your jokes never fail to lift my spirits, even if I try my hardest not to show it. Your endless kindness and your belief in humanity inspire me; they make my heart tender. You give me strength, and..."

You look for the right words, but nothing seems right.

"I'm trying to explain the unexplainable; there are no words strong enough, and with just the right undertones, I would never do these feelings justice. And even if it is a Plant connection... it just makes it better; it only deepens these emotions in me. I don't despair over it. I am glad."

Your hands cup his face, your fingers touching the pinkish hue of his cheeks. His eyes glimmer in the dim room, his arm that's under him moves beneath your head to make you more comfortable, and his other hand wraps around your waist and pulls you closer into an embrace.

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#tempest wind #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #Trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #Humanoid Typhoon #vashxreader #vash x reader #x reader #plant boi #Vash the Stampede

[purplesurveys]

1815

Have you ever left your front door unlocked all night?  Yes. I've also done worse by not only leaving the front door unlocked, but also leaving the door key (where my CAR keys are also attached) still inserted in the unlocked-door key slot. I tend to make the mistake when I come home extremely exhausted, but I understand why it drives my mom just as extremely crazy.

Do you prefer cold or warm weather?  Cold, are you kidding? I can think of a few things worse than having your house feel like an oven and sweating in your own home.

The last advertisement you saw: What was it advertising?  It was a Chinese ad so I had no idea what it was even selling. It looked like an online platform of some sort but as to what it offers...no clue.

Do you prefer bar or liquid soap?  Liquid. Bar is fine too but I just don't like how it's so slippery.

Do you wear any perfumes / colognes on a regular basis?  No.

Do you have high or low self esteem levels?  It depends on what aspect we're talking about. I have high self-esteem when it comes to how confident I feel about myself; but being 25 also currently propels me to be in a quarter-life crisis and feel a little lost and down about my current direction in life.

When was the last time you listened to a song on repeat? What was the song?  The Astronaut, because my mom is currently obsessed with it and asks me to play it on repeat in the car. I have absolutely no complaints lol.

How do you feel about being in the house alone?  I like it, but given I'm very chatty around my sister it can feel lonesome sometimes. I dread the day she moves out, if she does end up doing it earlier than I do :(

What was the last compliment you received?  I can't even remember. The closest thing I can think of is a moment last night when an an aunt told me it was her first time seeing me all dolled up and girly, but tbh I don't really count it as a compliment because it could have implied many other things.

Do you like mint or orange flavored chocolate?  I love different spins on chocolate. I never look for them per se, but I'm also willing to try them when I get the chance.

How often do you get spots? Like, pimples?  Usually a day or two after I let my face cuddle with my dogs', hahaha.

Do you believe that when your ears burn someone is talking about you?  No.

Are you a good host when visitors come over or do you wish they’d leave? I like to think I'm a good host. The few times I've had guests over, I wanted to make sure the receiving area is all dressed up and that they don't run out of food to choose from. It's difficult to get to my place as it is so I want their visits to be as worth it as possible.

When was the last time you burnt your mouth from eating something too hot? I've never, like, injured my tongue or whatever but the other night I took a bite of lasagna just like 30 seconds after taking it out of the microwave and I promptly spat it back out.

What is your favorite foreign language to listen to? (In music or speech)  French.

Do you prefer instrumental songs or ones with lyrics?  Lyrics for the most part; but there are also some instrumentals that I enjoy listening to, especially when they're part of a movie or video game score.

Name something simple that makes you happy.  Sunday morning drives. Traffic is nonexistent, you hit all the green lights, and it's just such a vibe to drive when the sun has just risen.

What is your favorite instrument to listen to?  Saxophone, piano, and violin.

Pick one: Books, movies or music?  Music.

Do you carry a bag around with you often? What does it look like? I need to have a bag with me since I'm always carrying a bunch of stuff. My main bag is a brown handbag with a million pockets; I have a secondary handbag which is purple and white; but in cases where I can carry light, I have a white belt bag that I like to wear over my shoulder.

Do you like your natural hair color?  Sure.

Do you delete your emails / texts often?  I don't go on deleting sprees for either of those, but I do for photos and videos.

What was the last book you read about?  It chronicles the different stages of the life of a woman living in South Korea and how the evolving forms of sexism and misogyny she faced in her society eventually drove her to severe mental illness. I'll gatekeep the frustrating ending for now, but for anyone interested in this synopsis the book is called Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982.

What color are the walls in the room you’re in?  White.

Did you dress up last Halloween? As what? Nope.

Do you have any old friends who you still kinda speak to but it’s awkward?  Not really, no.

Name one of your favorite memories.  Traveling to Thailand.

Are you a polite person?  Yup, but I can also have a short fuse.

When was the last time you used a quote from a movie in real life? I never quote movies.

Have you ever used a chat-up line that actually worked?  I don't think so.

Can you put your legs behind your head? I used to do it as a kid, probably still can but with a bit more difficulty if I had to guess.

Do you forget things easily? No, I have a sharp memory. The only time I have memory slip-ups is at work, but that's also because I'm no longer passionate about it.

The last song you listened to: Did it have a male or female vocalist?  Male.

Is the heating on in your house currently?  That's not a thing here.

Do you often find toothpaste too minty?  No.

Have you ever had braces? Do you need them?  I currently have them.

Are you a subscriber to any magazines? Which?  Nope.

What does your voice sound like? (Loud, quiet, high pitched, etc)  Deep and firm, but it can turn high-pitched and soft when I'm interested in the conversation.

[chernayavidua]

TIME: 1620 hours  LOCTAION: a diner, in a small town, in the middle of no where. 

                  THE  DAY  HAD  TURNED  DREARY  AND  COLD.  the  first  signs  of  winter  hung  in  the  air  and  were  cause  for  comment  from  most  of  the  customers.  heavy  grey  white  clouds  were  visible  from  within  the  diner  and  the  only  sign  of  possible  rain  was  out  far  in  the  horizon,  a  thick  line  of  dark  ominous  sky.  the  blonde  woman  broadcasting  the  news  from  the  tv  nestled  on  the  far  wall  was  saying  that  those  ominous  clouds  would  bring  rain  and  possible  hail  to  the  region.  hours  ticked  by,  the  diner  and  subsequent  small  town  started  seeing  more  people  lingering.  stocking  up  on  gas  and  food  for  the  road  ahead.  while  others  sat  in  the  diner  questioning  their  trip,  wondering  if  they  should  turn  back  now  or  keep  going.  

                  A  BALANCING  ACT  BETWEEN    keeping  her  cover  intact  and  breaking  a  few  bones  of  those  who  thought  the  california  valley  girl  accent  meant  that  she  was  really  a  dumb  blonde.  coupled  with  the  way  she  kept  to  herself  being  interpreted  as  shyness  and  playing  into  the  aspiring  actress  with  dreams  of  living  in  new  york,  men  thought  they  had  free  access.  late  one  evening  and  after  too  many  gas  station  beers  some  truck  driver  thought  he  could  get  lucky  with  her  but  the  drunken  attempt  had  only  resulted  in  the  man  lying  unconscious  on  the  asphalt  while  she  drove  away.  (  it  brought  a  small  smile  to  her  knowing  that  his  hangover  was  surely  made  worse  by  the  kick  to  the  jaw.  )  the  uptick  in  customers  this  type  of  weather  brought  had  resulted  in  no  one  being  dumb  enough  to  try  a  pass  at  her.

                  ❛  what  can  i  get  you  started  with?,  ❜  asked  the  waitress,  hazel  eyes  landing  on  the  dark  haired  man  before  her.  his  dark  hair  was  messy,  mostly  courtesy  of  the  light  breeze  that  had  started  up  a  handful  of  hours  ago.  she  noted  that  he  looked  tired  and  had  at  least  a  day’s  worth  of  stubble  on  his  jaw.  (  an  alcoholic  probably.  or  maybe  a  chronic  gambler.  )  he  wasn’t  from  the  town  and  he  wasn’t  dressed  like  the  rancher  types.  his  attempt  to  blend  in  was,  in  her  mind,  flagged  by  the  trench  coat  he  wore.  she  knew  quality  when  she  saw  it.  he  must  be  a  city  boy  trying  to  put  distance  between  himself  and  something  he  doesn’t  want  to  face.  

                  ❛  fresh  coffee’s  going  to  take  a  minute  to  brew.  ❜  she  added,  gaze  flickering  out  the  window  off  to  one  side  from  where  he  sat.  the  weather  is  going  to  hinder  the  shipment,  she  thought  to  herself.  the  waiting  game  of  it  all  was  something  she  would  never  get  used  to.  ❛   talia!  order  for  table  twelve!  ❜   connie’s  loud  drone  of  a  voice  yelled  out,  causing  the  waitress  to  sigh.  

                  ALL  THE  NOISE  AROUND  THEM    stopped  when  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder  at  connie  only  to  see  her  target  sitting  in  one  of  the  back  booths  with  someone  he  knew.  with  all  the  cars  out  front,  he  must  have  parked  around  the  side,  near  the  back  and  slipped  in  through  the  door  to  her  left.  the  one  door  she  currently  couldn’t  keep  an  eye  on  due  the  direction  the  man  before  her  was  facing.  making  a  mental  note  to  offer  to  take  the  trash  out,  the  woman  caught  the  man’s  low  timber  and  pulled  herself  out  of  her  mind.  

                  ❛  i’m  sorry,  what  was  that  again?,  ❜  notepad  and  pen  ready,  an  apologetic  look  upon  her  face  that  said:  it's  been  a  long  and  busy  day.

semi-plotted starter / @crimefightr​

#crimefightr #i was trying to set up the scene i hope i didn't g*dmod too much #if i did i apologize & if you need me to change anything lmk ! #семь › most dangerous woman in the world. ❪ 𝟨𝟣𝟨 ❫ #q.

[ilalos]

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #my writing #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.  

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.  

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.  

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.  

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.  

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.  

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers. 

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.  

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.  

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.  

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.  

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.  

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.  

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.  

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.  

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.  

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.  

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.  

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.  

He froze.  

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.  

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.  

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.  

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.  

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.  

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly. 

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”  

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.  

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.  

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.  

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.  

It was bullshit.  

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.  

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.  

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.  

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.  

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.  

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.  

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.  

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.  

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.  

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.  

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.  

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.  

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.  

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.  

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.  

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.  

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.  

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.  

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.  

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.  

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.  

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”  

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.  

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.  

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.  

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.  

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.  

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.  

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.  

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.  

He didn’t care for that one bit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

And Tomorrow, Too.

I'm back!

Much love and many thanks to @stinastar @hailhailsatan @newnamesamecharlotte and @veritasrose for helping me yank this thing out of my brain!

Please enjoy this hurt/comfort that ends with glorious, glorious fluff.

TW: Blood, canon typical injury, infection

Jaskier was having a very rough day, objectively speaking.

He’d just finished dressing after a dip in the river when a lone bandit surprised him, shoving him to the dirt and kicking him in the ribs to keep him down. Having dealt with a gut-punch from a Witcher, Jaskier had recovered faster than anticipated and tackled the stranger to the ground.

“Foolish troubadour,” the bandit snarled. There was the quick flash of something silver and a sudden white-hot pain shot up the bard’s side from his hip to his ribcage.

“Shit,” Jaskier gasped, clutching desperately at his slashed doublet. The panicked bandit scooped up the largest of the bard’s travel bags and darted into the woods, leaving his bloodied weapon lying atop a pile of leaves beside his victim. When Jaskier pulled his hand away from the wound on his ribcage he grimaced; that was more blood than he’d been hoping to see. “Fucking cock.”

After he stripped to the waist and rinsed off in the river a second time, Jaskier took inventory of himself. The cut started at his left hip and slid up his ribcage to just beneath his left shoulder, and it was practically impossible to bandage; any attempt to wrap the upper half of his injury made him bite his lip to keep from screaming in anguish.

It was agony to move more than a few inches in either direction, since the twisting motion pulled at his torn skin and stung like hellfire. All he could really do was apply a loose poultice of chewed mint leaves to ward against infection and tie his shirt around his torso in lieu of a bandage. His cloak would have to work even harder than usual to keep him warm until Geralt arrived.

“Alright, well,” he muttered to no one as he accounted for the rest of his scattered clothing and supplies. “I need to find somewhere to rest and gather what wits I still possess… somewhere that’s still close enough for Geralt to find me. Shit, this isn’t good.”

The bard thanked every god he knew when he managed to find a small cave less than a hundred yards from the enormous oak tree where he met Geralt every year. He limped his remaining belongings into the slightly cramped space and deposited them against the left wall.

---

Fortunately for Jaskier, the idiot bandit had declared his beautiful elven lute “too bulky and annoying to carry”, and had left Sexy well enough alone. Unfortunately, the ruffian had still made off with all the bard’s coin from at least two months’ worth of contracted performances, most of his medical supplies, and most of his rations, as well.

But Jaskier had spent years at Geralt’s side and the Witcher had taught him how to deal with emergencies of every variety. Jaskier wasn’t about to disappoint his companion by flailing about ineffectively like some noble-born dunce at a time like this. No, Jaskier was determined to be healthy and ready to travel again by the time Geralt arrived in Kaedwen to find him. They only had a week or two together before they separated again for the winter and he wasn’t going to lose a single precious second in Geralt’s presence due to some silly highwayman.

Lovelorn fool that he was.

The bard used his remaining strength to gather a few armfuls of firewood and light some dried leaves with his flint and steel. He laid out his bedroll against the back wall so that he could see clearly if anyone approached from outside and wrapped his arms around Sexy to keep her safe. He re-wrapped his wound with more crushed mint and laid down to try and get some sleep.

Hopefully Geralt would arrive soon with his medical supplies and more water.

Hopefully.

---

After two long days spent huddled in a miserable lump at the back of the cave, anxiously scanning the horizon for any sign of another bandit (or Geralt) and unable to gather food or kindling, Jaskier was exhausted from lack of sleep. The wound in his side ached and burned far worse than it had on that first afternoon, aggravated by sweat and debris that had crept through his makeshift bandages.

Any added pressure around the edges of the cut made the skin nearly creak with the building strain of infection. He whimpered involuntarily every time he took a breath and trembled at any shift in the autumn breeze. It seemed as if his very bones were aching as his body flashed between the white-hot and freezing cold of a raging fever.

Slowly, and with a great effort on the part of his illness, Jaskier succumbed to the injury and sank into the quiet warmth of unconsciousness.

---

“Jaskier?” Geralt called, guiding Roach around another circuit of the old oak tree. “Are you there, Jaskier? We need to make it to the fork in the Pontar before the harvest ends and I’m in no mood for practical jokes.”

Nothing.

All his Witcher hearing picked up on were leaves twitching in the wind and a few rabbits foraging off to his left. Not even Jaskier could stay so still, even for a joke; his heartbeat and the uptick in his breathing would give him dead away.

“Well, I’m going to town.”

Geralt was about to wheel Roach back toward the road in search of a nearby inn when he caught a whiff of something on the wind - something that sent his heart plummeting into his boots.

Blood.

Jaskier’s blood. And it wasn’t fresh.

He dropped silently from the saddle and gave the signal for Roach to stay put. After a few careful breaths and some shuffling through the autumn leaves, Geralt discovered the bandit’s discarded dagger, still rusty-red around the tip and left edge.

“Fuck! Jaskier!” Geralt called, glancing around the small copse in the woods. “Jaskier, where are you!?”

The Witcher closed his eyes and tilted his head back to better clear his airways. He took a deep breath in through his nose and focused every one of his heightened senses on locating the bard. There it was again to his right, but slightly stronger. “Fucking hells.”

Geralt did his best to follow the trail without panicking. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he lost his head while the bard was in mortal danger. If the bard was in mortal danger, he tried to reassure himself.

But if Jaskier had recovered he would have been waiting at the oak. Geralt knew that. He knew it with every fiber of his being, though he wouldn’t admit anything aloud. Jaskier’s long autumn absence had already set him on edge when he’d caught the blood-smell. “Gods-dammit, bard. Please be alive. Please, Jaskier, I can’t-”

Geralt bit his tongue and continued to follow the bard’s weak scent into the woods. After too many minutes - perhaps five or six at the speed Geralt was moving - the Witcher reached a small cave. The mouth of said cave was nearly covered-over with dry leaves and Geralt could tell, even from this distance, that Jaskier was not faring well at all. The whole area smelled like rot. Like decay. If it weren’t for the bard’s fluttering heartbeat echoing faintly from within the tiny cavern, the Witcher would have fallen to his knees and wept with despair at his untimely death.

When Geralt ducked inside and reached to pull Jaskier into his arms, the bard struggled weakly. “No, please,” he rasped. “D-Don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jaskier,” Geralt replied softly. He shifted the thick leather strap of Sexy’s case over his shoulder and hefted the bard into his arms in one swift movement. Those usually brilliant blue eyes looked up at him in utter confusion. The irises were dull and foggy with sickness; the Witcher’s heart lurched in his chest and he turned back to the path, doubling his speed in his hurry to reach Roach. “You don’t have to worry any more, sweet Julek. I’m going to get you to safety.”

“If you must kill me-” Jaskier continued, muttering frantically as if Geralt hadn’t said anything at all “-then p-please do me one last f-favor. I need you to p-please find a Witcher. F-Find the White Wolf. Tell h-him… Tell him that I…”

Then the weight in Geralt’s arms seemed to increase by a fraction and the bard went silent. The Witcher shook the sweating, shaking bundle in his arms but Jaskier remained quiet.

“What do you want to tell him, Jaskier?” Geralt glanced down. His eyebrows furrowed deeply when he realized the human had fallen unconscious. The hummingbird pace of Jaskier’s fluttering heartbeat began to hammer even faster and his breaths were far too shallow. The Witcher rumbled out a determined, desperate plea the universe to save his darling songbird, followed by a quiet but emphatic, “Fuck.”

---

“Eskel!” Geralt kicked down the door to the kitchen of Kaer Morhen with one solid boot. He hadn't slept in two days and his body ached from sprinting up the path with a full-grown man in his arms. “Eskel, Vesemir, please!”

“Fuck, is that Geralt!?” Eskel came whipping around one corner at a sprint. Lambert and Vesemir were close behind, Lambert with a sword drawn and a scowl on his face. He lowered it when he saw that Geralt wasn't being pursued.

“Please, Ves, Eskel, please, help him to survive because I can’t- I can’t-” the White Wolf, for all his bravado and stoicism, was panting furiously. His kinsmen knew that he'd be crying if he had the capability to do so and crowded closer to help. Geralt immediately handed a warm, damp bundle to his Eskel with incredible gentleness and care. He looked up at the slightly taller Witcher and begged with all the strength he had left: “Please. I can't let him die.”

---

Jaskier woke up with a sharp gasp. His side radiated a dull, persistent kind of agony and he felt sick to his stomach. With a low groan he turned to retch off the side of the bed, into a conveniently placed bucket. He shouted when the movement made his wound ache all the more. “Fuck!”

The bard heard a heavy thud from his left followed by some clattering and a quietly whispered, “Shit.”

“G’ralt?”

“Jaskier!” the Witcher appeared at his side in a flash. Geralt leaned over him with a damp cloth in hand and wiped at the corners of his mouth. “You’re alive! Melitele be thanked. Do you need to be sick again? Would you like some water?”

“You’re o-oddly verbose,” Jaskier managed to half-smile.

“Was worried.”

“There’s my monosyllabic Witcher,” the bard grinned through his blinding pain. “It hurts, Geralt. Rather terribly.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t- We’re all Witchers so it’s not…” Geralt sighed and turned away to rinse the cloth in a bowl of cool water that had been resting on the sill. “We didn’t know which kind of herbs were safe for humans and which weren’t.”

“We?”

“How’s the patient?”

Jaskier's snapped to the doorway and his body automatically jerked in surprise. He whimpered at the reaction it elicited from his injury, his ribs blooming with a sharp sting. “Shit!”

“Fuck!” the red-headed man in the door replied, slamming his hands over his face. “I’m so sorry. Shit in the fucking nine hells.”

“Uh…”

“Jaskier, this is my brother Lambert. Lambert… This is Jaskier.”

“Ah yes,” the shorter Witcher smirked. “I’ve heard so much about you, Master Jaskier.”

“That I’m a royal pain in the ass?”

“Quite the opposite, really. In fact, when the two of you arrived, Geralt was nearly-”

Lambert’s statement was interrupted by a small wooden bowl to the side of the head, chucked across the room by a grim-faced Geralt.

“Nevermind. Anyway, glad to see you’re awake. I’ll let the others know that he's no longer going hand-to-hand with Death.”

“Others?” Jaskier glanced between Geralt and Lambert with wide, confused eyes. “Am I… Am I in Kaer Morhen!?”

“Aye,” Lambert winked. “And you slept through the first two days of snowfall, so I’m afraid to inform you that you’re stuck at Kaer Morhen for the rest of this season. I’ll let you and Geralt hash the rest of the details out in private. Tootles, Buttercup.”

And just as suddenly as Lambert had appeared, he was gone.

The bard turned to make eye contact with the White Wolf and blinked owlishly. “Wh-What did he mean about being here all winter?”

“I’m afraid he wasn’t lying,” Geralt returned to the stool beside Jaskier’s bed and sat down slowly, as if waiting for Jaskier to order him out of the room entirely. “Your injury was heavily infected and you were close to death when I found you in that cave at the base of the mountains. I ran the Killer in two days instead of one and brought you to Eskel and Vesemir for healing; they were the closest people I could think of who knew what to do to save you. I’m so sorry for trapping you here for the season when you should be teaching and composing in Oxenfurt. If you’d like, I can try to contact Yen or Triss and have them portal you back to the University before Yule.”

“Nobody would want to inconvenience a sorceress on their behalf,” Jaskier answered. "Myself included."

“So you don’t mind staying?”

Jaskier glanced up through his lashes, more self-conscious than Geralt had ever seen him before. “Were you really worried about me dying? Did you really carry me up the path all by yourself? In two days?”

“...Yes.”

“Why?”

Geralt felt his heart shatter to pieces in his chest. All these years spent thinking that if he was too obvious about his feelings he’d hurt Jaskier... and Jaskier had simply been waiting for any confirmation of his affections, friendly or otherwise.

"Because I..." the Witcher stood again and started to pace. "Because, Julek, I love you. I can't bear the thought of being parted from you. It's even worse because I know, I know that you're human and that I'm going to lose you too soon no matter what happens. Illness, age, injury... No matter how many years we have together they will never be enough."

Jaskier sniffled and Geralt turned on his heel to face the bard, hands already outstretched to offer comfort. "You enormous fucking idiot."

"Huh?"

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you sitting in the corner, brooding away," Jaskier grinned. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and dripped onto the blanket. "Why didn't you tell me? You couldn't even look me in the eyes and call me your friend..."

"Witchers aren't very good at romance, if you haven't noticed," Geralt laughed humorlessly. "I knew I was going to hurt you eventually. It was only a matter of time."

"Well now we have all winter to figure things out," Jaskier offered, sliding his hand across the mattress to twine his fingers with Geralt's. The Witcher's skin was cool against his own and it felt glorious.

"Hmm."

"No! No going silent on me now, you fucker!"

"Get some rest," Geralt smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jaskier's sweaty fringe. "I will be here when you wake."

"And tomorrow, too?"

Geralt smiled oh-so-softly and kissed him again, on the lips.

"And tomorrow, too."

#geraskier #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fic #geraskier fluff #hurt/comfort geraskier #fluff geraskier #hurt/comfort #injury #blood tw #injury tw #jaskier whump #we're whumping the bard tonight #confessions #first kiss #geraskier getting together #bouncey's endless getting together fics #canon typical violence #canon universe #winter at kaer morhen #eskel and lambert #geralt is an idiot #whump and fluff

[kimageddon]

Star Wars Fics

I was challenged by @ashotofspotchka . So I did it.

The Prompt

Made this a Tech x Reader fic. I got inspired. And became a bit longer that intended.

I heard y'like Tech?? @eyecandyeoz @fallenrepublick (tag a fan!)

The Wedding

Well this was a right mess to be in. How had you even gotten into this situation? Oh of course… Cid. As much as you admired her, she was a tricky one. If not for her you would have never been invited to her salon, nor would you have met the most frustrating band of men you’d encountered. And their adorable little sister of course.

Had you not taken that job with them a few months ago, you would not have gotten to know them so well. Not been put in so many ridiculous situations and nearly losing your head. You wouldn’t have that new scar across your thigh… and you wouldn’t have grown to like them so much.

Damn it. Your mentor always told you not to get too attached to people, one never knew when they would find each other on opposite sides of the field so to speak. Casual acquaintances were one thing. Friendship was not a good idea. Anything more was downright dangerous. You told yourself it was alright to have a little affection for them. That it was alright to laugh and make jokes, to share a meal with them, to make them smile. That was alright… wasn’t it?

You let out a sigh wishing the ceremony would soon be over. Not that it wasn’t lovely. Of course it was. The venue was beautifully decorated, from the flowers to the guests, everything was stunning. A perfect picture of romance and love and devotion.

You usually detested weddings. There was one incident when you were young and… well it spoiled the idea of them to you. Though this was… actually rather nice. The group, you included, were tasked with providing security for the wedding as a favour to one of Cid’s associates. It was one of the more ridiculous missions… though even you had to admit, you cleaned up alright in a silken dress and heels. It had been a while since you’d had to go undercover and this was… well it was rather fun.

The downside of course had been seeing the boys in their suits. It wasn’t good for your heart. If they looked a picture of badass intimidation in full armour, then the five of them in suits were just perfect.

Hunter even had his hair swept back, though it took you a second to recognise him without the bandana. Wrecker had been a little grumbly about feeling unprotected but was very pleased when you told him he was very handsome. Crosshair had rolled his eyes at first, but gotten very offended when you snatched his toothpick from his lips. Echo had a moment when he was finally dressed. You’d been tying his bowtie when he’d let out a little huff and gave a small smile, saying he “felt human again.” Your heart broke at these words because even with his brothers he still felt… lesser. You had been quick to assure him that he was more human than anyone you knew and that the prosthetics meant nothing on that. Seeing him puff up with pride again was worth nearly getting shot last week.

Even Omega had a pretty dress on and flats tied to her ankles with ribbons. You and she had picked a dress to match Hunter’s suit specifically, she looked up to her big brother so very much, you often thought he was more like a father really, but kept these thoughts to yourself for now.

The last one to join you was the one that affected you the most of course. Tech stepped out onto the landing platform looking like a million credits and like he should have a hot woman on each arm. Like he could make any woman swoon with just a wink.

Hot damn.

Of course he would not do such a thing, and was just looking around, observing the surroundings for possible points of attack, vulnerability and in general taking in the surroundings. As you were also meant be doing. Internally you swore and after drinking in his obliviously gorgeous self, you’d returned to praising the way Omega had pinned her hair without needing your help.

Tech had of course been one of the members of the self-proclaimed ‘Bad Batch’ that you had found the most interesting. He always knew at least five facts about the planet or target or mission that the others didn’t. Always reading, always observing. His eyes behind his goggles were never still. One could think him cold if they didn’t look close enough. But he had a deep passion for knowledge, for technology… its no wonder he had chosen such a name. Practical. To the point. You liked that about him. You like quite a bit about him as you recently discovered. The way he could fix anything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about learning new things. The way he was so damn efficient at his job, he knew the Havoc Marauder inside and out. The little smile when the two of you shared an inside joke. Or the way he rolled his eyes whenever one of his brothers exasperated him. The way he was always right there to help Omega over large stones or down the stairs of the ship. He was so thoughtful like that, despite not really talking about it.

Actually no. No, you didn't like that. It was just positive observations. That’s all. He was a colleague… maybe a friend. Maybe. There was nothing more to it, you told yourself. There wasn’t anything meant in the little brushes of your fingers when you two passed items between each other. Or passed in the hold of the ship. Or when you were squashed together when hiding from Imps. He didn’t think like that. Right?

Currently, you were standing on one side of the large room, waiting for the bride to arrive. On one side were you, Hunter and Crosshair, standing alongside the pews. On the other, was Omega, Echo, Wrecker and Tech. You wished Tech was on your side of the room, then he wouldn’t be in your vision at least. Not that it meant anything! You were allowed to admire the handsome technician of course, but that's all it was. He certainly wasn’t looking back at you every minute or so either. You were probably imagining it. You had to keep your eyes out for any breaches in security. Any guests acting strange. Certainly not staring at the drop-dead gorgeous clone in glasses across from you.

“Feeling alright, Feisty?” Hunter asked in a low whisper. You smirked at the nickname, apparently you had made an impression on them in the first mission when the client had gotten too mouthy. “Your heart rate is higher than usual.” He added, and you could hear definite amusement in his tone.

You pursed your lips together, trying not to smile from embarrassment. “I’m fine Hunter.” You replied out of the corner of your mouth. Another sweep of the venue with your eyes-- oh kriff Tech was looking your way. Your eyes met for just a second before you tore them away. You heard Hunter chuckle.

“You sure?” He muttered, folding his arms,

“Shut up, Hunter.” You retorted with a soft huff. He chuckled again and you felt your face grow hot. By the nine moons of Endor you wanted to run. It was then the music began and you steeled yourself. The ceremony was beginning.

It was lovely, really. Very sweet, lovely and romantic. The Togruta and his Twi’lek bride seemed very in love if the look on the groom's face was to be believed. He practically lit up like a beacon on seeing her. You had the brief thought... would anyone do that for you? Before immediately pushing it away. Those sorts of thoughts were dangerous. You were sure that it was going to be boring… but you couldn’t help but get a little distracted when they began to say their vows.

“...my darling. There is so much I want to say to you. So much I have felt and left unsaid, I am sure you know just how I feel just by the way I look at you.”

Your eyes instinctively flicked to the otherside of the room. You glimpsed his eyes on you and was immediately caught in the depths of his soft brown eyes. The gentle and kind look you had seen many times, but thought nothing of. He was just kind, that’s who he was. In this moment though-- you were sure there was… a little more to it.

“...It was not easy to let myself open up… to bring myself to acknowledge my feelings but in one moment I knew they were endless and unrelenting. I love you from the depth of my soul and I never want to be apart from you…”

Oh hells… these vows were so saccharine sweet that normally you would be gagging… but these ones hit a little too close to home. You couldn’t stop your eyes from being tugged toward the suited clone trooper opposite you, no matter how you forced them away, to scan the room for danger, they were always drawn back to him. Always him.

“...When I met you you were just so wild. Such a firecracker…!”

There was a laugh across the room and you almost jumped, reminding yourself you were in a crowd. Though none of them paid attention to you. Only one.

“...It was like seeing the sun for the first time, with you in my world colours were brighter, food was sweeter, I found myself longing for times when we could be together, even in the small moments…”

You recalled the times Tech and yourself had been together, doing maintenance, repairs, listening to the music through the entertainment channels. The little laughs, the simple things.

“...not everything was easy, and there has been so much danger…”

You remembered your last serious injury, the piece of twisted metal sticking out of your leg while you hauled ass back to the ship, firing behind you to cover the boys. The way Tech’s eyes had become as big as moons when you finally collapsed, and they saw how bad the injury was.

“... but I always trusted you to get me through anything. I love you, my darling. With all my heart, and soul and with every beat of my heart and breath in my body. I will be yours even after all the stars in the galaxy burn out.”

You had been unable to tear your gaze from Tech’s for the last minute or so and you could feel your face burn. It was only when the vows were done and the bride and groom kissed, their hands wrapped together in a red ribbon and the other guests clapped in support that you snapped out of your little reverie. You joined, half-heartedly in the applause but you felt… strange. You really wanted this mission to be over. Or a drink. Yeah, a drink would be good.

#tbb fanfiction #tbb #tbb tech #tech #clone tech #the bad batch #fanfic prompt #tag a tech simp #tech x reader #tech x you #tech fluff

[missmentelle]

Let’s talk about Instagram “influencer” culture. 

My younger brother and his girlfriend are Instagram influencers. They aren’t household names with a million fans apiece, but they each have a decent following. They’ve been featured in various lists and roundups of people whose lives and relationships are #goals, and they both earn a steady income from Instagram. Not enough to make a full-time living, but enough to make pouring hundreds of hours into their Instagram careers worth their while. 

Despite being so close to an Instagram influencer - several of the most popular photos on my brother’s account were taken by me - I have some serious qualms about Instragram “influencer” culture as a whole. I studied the impact of platforms like Instagram in graduate school - I have a master’s degree in clinical psychology, and I spent part of my time in grad school working with a professor who studies the impact of social media on mental health. A recent study found that out of all social media platforms, Instagram is the worst for your mental health. I’ve also had the chance to see firsthand what a life lived on Instagram has meant for my brother, and the toll it continues to take on him. 

So what makes Instagram influencer culture so toxic for both the people who create it and the people influenced by it? For starters: It’s faker than you think. Instagram stars intentionally market themselves as “authentic” and “real” - you are led to believe that you are getting an unfiltered glimpse into someone’s daily life as you follow along with their pictures and their daily stories. In reality, however, a huge amount of time, effort and money goes into the images you see. My brother and his girlfriend take hundreds of photos in order to get one or two shots worthy of posting. Outings are often little more than photoshoots; a “hike” is often just a short walk to a scenic location, followed by hours of photos. Ditto for ice skating, beach days and photos from music festivals. They don’t get to enjoy many of the activities they are depicted doing with big smiles on Instagram, because the focus is on capturing the perfect photo. Photos are often planned weeks in advance, vacations are booked based on which locations will make the best backdrops, and the fancy food in their pictures often goes cold while they get the perfect shot. The fact that they want to create beautiful images is not an issue - after all, the pictures in many mainstream ads are stunning. The issue is that they’re specifically pretending not to be models or advertisers; they are intentionally leading you to believe that what you’re seeing is candid daily life. Which leads me to...

It presents unattainable ideals as everyday life. Instagram influencers roll out of bed in perfect and tastefully-decorated apartments, eat nutritious and visually stunning meals, and lead full, active lives of glamour and adventure. Their skin is never flawed, their hair never out of place, and their outfits never tacky. Again, this isn’t a problem if you are creating an advertisement or a TV show - something that your viewers know is manufactured to look perfect - but Instagram stars hinge their success on pretending that that level of non-stop perfect is their average, daily life. In reality, my brother’s girlfriend piles dirty laundry and books in her bathtub so that her bedroom looks “minimalist” in her photos, and the two of them post weeks-old starry-eyed couple photos with gushy captions even when they are on the verge of breaking up. Influencers themselves tend to be young, attractive, white, thin, able-bodied, middle-class cis people - an ideal that is already unattainable for most people - and yet they present themselves as totally average people. When flaws and problems are revealed, it’s often in a very controlled way, and generally tied in with some kind of pithy advice or mantra. Which brings us to...

It encourages people with no credentials to hand out “expert” advice. This is probably one of the most damaging aspects of influencer culture. 22-year-olds with absolutely no formal training in nutrition, mental health, medicine, dermatology or fitness are handing out “expert” wellness advice - or even designing diets, skincare routines, and workout regimens for others - and feeling increasingly comfortable doing it. Vulnerable people who may have very serious issues lap this advice up, regardless of how unsound or untested it may be; after all, these influencers appear to have perfect lives, and it’s easy to assume that they must know the secrets of health, happiness and clear skin. There are a couple of huge problems with this. For one, many people aren’t actually aware of why they are successful - if a conventionally attractive cis white woman whose parents financially support her tells you that the secret to avoiding stress is meditation and mud masks, you should be skeptical of that advice. People in positions of relative privilege are often blind to the many advantages they have, and will attribute their success to their “wellness routines” or “positive thinking”, rather than the social advantages that are not available to many of their followers. Also, influencers are often peddling advice that they themselves do not follow. My brother’s girlfriend makes money by selling advice on how to make a full-time living while travelling the world, despite the fact that she isn’t actually able to do that. Many influencers who promote extremely restrictive diets and health regimes have admitted that they themselves do not follow these diets. People who are feeling deeply insecure about their bodies, relationships, careers, lifestyles and productivity are turning to advice from people who aren’t qualified to help. And why does every Instagram star suddenly seem to be offering themselves up as a “wellness” expert? It’s because...

It exists to sell you things, while pretending otherwise. As much as the influencer community presents itself as being all about “authenticity”, “expression”, “empowerment”, or “wellness”, at the end of the day, it is all about trying to sell you things, even if that means exploiting your deepest insecurities. A company that employs plus-sized models to represent their $90 leggings is still a company that, at the end of the day, is trying to sell you $90 leggings, and if they have to pay someone to convince you that these leggings are the only thing standing between you and finally loving your body and having the courage to chase your dreams, then that’s exactly what they are going to do. It is an advertisement, dressed up as self-help and inspiration from an ordinary person who just wants you to succeed. If you find that you feel bad about yourself after a couple of minutes of scrolling through your instagram feed, that’s the impact that the app is meant to have on you. People who are completely satisfied with themselves and their lives don’t buy things they don’t need - making you feel like your life should be better is the key to selling you a wide variety of products. 

Does all this mean that Instagram is evil, or that influencers are bad people? Of course not. They are people trying to make money through self-expression, and many produce interesting and engaging content. Many of them are very young, and may not think about the impact that they might be having on their followers. I certainly don’t think that any of them set out to deceive people. But it is important to think critically about the media we consume, the purpose of that media, and the message it carries. I have known many people, both personally and professionally, who find that they feel worse about themselves after spending an afternoon scrolling through social media, and I think it’s important for all of us to examine why that may be, and take steps to protect our own mental health.

#askmissmentelle #missmentelle #instagram #insta #Social media #mental health #mental illness #self esteem #self love

[chelleztjs18]

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 5

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I do not own this GIF.

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

“Hey, I’m leaving now. Are you there yet?” Lizzie texted shortly after she turned on her car. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.” Aubrey replied. “Okay, on my way. It won’t get me too long to get there.” She tossed her cell phone onto the passenger side seat and started to drive.

It’s almost lunch time hour, the traffic is getting undeniably more crowded. It’s typical L.A traffic with its uncertainty crowd flow on random parts here and there. While driving Lizzie starts to think about the meeting today. A part of her actually feels bad knowing that you might have heard what she said on the phone. Deep down she knows it’s not your fault to be caught in the middle of this whole matter. The more she thinks about it, the more it triggers her memory that your were actually the girl who smiled nicely to her at the coffee shop who didn’t do anything that made Lizzie get recognized when she was trying to not to be and that was why Lizzie nodded and smiled as an appreciation towards you.

Of course once her common sense slowly starts to get her to think in the right way, her stubbornness quickly erupts and plays with her emotion again. Especially when her memory rewinded the view when your left hand grabbed the pen and signed the contract even after she gave you a cold intimidating statement then it was followed by the memory of all of her conversations with Jane and her mom who hired you without her agreeing to it. It makes her feel that they don’t think she is old enough to deal with this situation. Her anxiety only makes her more emotional in handling this matter and forces her to dislike you even more and to think what she should do to make you quit.

All the thinking while driving clearly makes it feels faster to get to the restaurant where she's meeting Aubrey. She parked her car, then walked into this quiet restaurant. She was greeted by the host then she explained she is meeting her friend here as her green eyes are searching for where Aubrey sits. “Lizzie! Over here!” Aubrey’s voice quickly caught her attention. Lizzie sees her sitting at the table in the patio and walks to her.

“Hey, how are you? It took longer to get here than you thought huh?” She gave Lizzie a hug. “Hey, how are you? Yeah, sorry, I got caught in a little traffic.” Lizzie sighed then she took a seat. The girls order some food and drink to accompany them while they are catching up.

“Sooo, what's up with your text yesterday. What do you want to figure out together with me? From your text, I can feel you were upset.” Aubrey starts the conversation. “Really? You can sense how I feel from my text?” Lizzie rolled her eyes playfully. “Of course, we are best friends, more like a soulmate I think but seriously what’s going on?” She joked around but tried to dig into what's going on at the same time.

Lizzie starts with a sigh and takes a sip of her drink. “Do you remember when I told you that Jane and my mom are thinking of getting me a new personal assistant?”

“Yeah? They still talk about it with you?” Aubrey said as she took a bite of her food.

“Even worse! They hired one already regardless of the fact that I said that I don't need one. I met her this morning. She came by with Mitchel Elrod to sign the contract and everything. Turns out she is his best friend.” Lizzie explained with huge annoyance.

“Oh yeah, I remember him. I got my assistant from his company. Does she know how you feel about this thing?”

“Oh that part, she might have heard what I said when I was talking with you on the phone this morning because I didn’t know that she was sitting in front of me in the waiting room. I felt terrible actually but then in the meeting I was thinking fuck it so I told her bluntly straight to her face that I actually don’t need her and I’m here because I’m forced to give it a try so this better be worth it.” Lizzie put her head to her hands, her thumbs massage her temples a little bit.

Aubrey gasped, “No you did not! Then what did she say?” Aubrey got so invested with what’s going on.

“Nothing really. She just said she hopes I like the way she works. That’s all. I was hoping she would change her mind and say no to work for me after what I said to her, but then she signed everything like she was trying to say “challenge accepted” to me.” Lizzie motions an air quote then takes another sip of her drink to calm herself down. “It’s like a competition to me now. This just made me doesn’t like her more.” She added.

“So I need your help to figure out how to make her quit because the contract said it can be terminated if there is a mutual agreement from both parties. So if one day she says she wants to quit, I will agree to it and boom! Case close!” Lizzie told her idea with confidence.

“Why are you trying so hard anyway? I meant Jane and your mom have a point. She will be very busy, they just want someone to help to provide your needs at work. You're gonna have a few busy years sister with all the upcoming filmings and others. It’s for your own sake I guess.” Aubrey shrugged as she tried to talk Lizzie out.

“Oh my God! Aubrey, you are supposed to be on my side. The problem is my anxiety. It’s hard to adjust with new people. This is also about how they don’t listen to my opinion or what I want. They hired her without finalizing it with me first.” Lizzie explains in frustration.

“It’s also about your ego isn’t it?” Aubrey added as she knows her best friends very well. 

“They know you would still say no even if they asked you before they hired her and honey I really understand your anxiety, I'm so sorry. Okay, I’ll help you. Why don’t you just give her hard times at work? Give her “hell” at work.” She suggested.

“And how do I do that?” Lizzie asked in confusion.

“I don’t know. Just be as bitchy as you can, ask ridiculous things. Make her do stuff that doesn’t make sense. So basically gets on her nerves every single day, I guess. Be difficult, you know what I meant.” Aubrey continues with her suggestions.

“I think you are right! Aubrey you are a genius! Thank you!” 

“What would you do without me?” Aubrey rolls her eyes joking around. “Anyway, what’s her name again? How does she look?” All of this conversation made Aubrey curious and pulled out her phone.

“Y/n Y/l/n. She looks okay and well dressed. A little taller than me. She’s - “ Aubrey all of a sudden cuts her off before she can even finish her sentence. 

“Wait! what?! Y/n Y/L/n?” Aubrey is as surprised as she can be, then looks at her phone and shows it to her confused friend. “Is this her?” Lizzie squints her eyes as she takes a look at the social media account profile Aubrey shows her. “YES! That’s her. Wait, how do you know? Please don’t tell me you know her too.” Lizzie covers her face with both of her hands as a sign of frustration.

“Actually, Yes I know her. I know her from a mutual friend quite a while ago. She also introduced me to Mitchel. I didn’t know she came back to work with him. I haven’t seen her for a while, we just sometimes text each other here and there just to say hi.”

“Aww, she hasn’t really changed. I always like the way she dresses and her good taste of music. Look, isn’t she cute?” Aubrey smirked jokingly as she continued checking Y/n’s social media on her phone and showed it to Lizzie.

“What are you talking about Aubrey? Cute or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m upset with this whole situation and I already do not like her, besides I don’t date girls. I’m dating Robbie. You know that! So can you focus here please?" Lizzie snapped her finger to regain Aubrey's attention back to the main topic.

“Haha, okay chill. I was just joking because you are so tense right now. You are dating Robbie but it doesn't look or feel like you guys are dating. You both barely spend time together. He is too busy with his band and his tours. You know what? I started to think he dates you just to boost his fame.” Aubrey casually points out her opinion to her best friends.

“Aubrey, I’m here not to talk about my relationship.” Lizzie reminded her why they are there.

“Okay okay!” Aubrey laughed. “Anyway, I don’t think I can help you to give more ideas to annoy y/n at work. I love you but I didn’t know it was Y/n you were talking about. She’s my friend too, I can't do that to her. At least I gave you the idea in the beginning but just considered I never tell you anything. Sorry babe, I hope you understand.”

“That’s too bad but okay, I understand.” She pouted but she can’t complain because at least Aubrey already gave her a little rough idea what to do.

The girls used the chance to also catch up with each other’s life but unfortunately it has to come to an end as one of them has to go home.

“Okay Liz, sorry I gotta go. I’ll see you when I see you, okay. Remember, don’t hate her too much if you don’t want to end up falling for her. Well that was what old people used to say, I think.” Aubrey teased Lizzie while giving her a goodbye hug.

“Aubrey stop! That won’t happen. See you soon. Thanks for the help.” Lizzie hugs her goodbye. Lizzie then got into her car and pulled her phone out.

“Hey Y/n, this is Elizabeth Olsen. On friday, we are supposed to drive together to my photoshoot location. Meet me at the office at 6 AM. We’ll take your car from there. Oh, don’t forget my coffee. The one I like. It’s on the list.” Lizzie texted Y/n with no signs of compromise in text.

“Hi. Ms. Olsen, I thought the schedule was at 8 AM but okay, I will meet you there at 6 AM on Friday, with your coffee.” Agreeing is all y/n can do. It’s the first day of work anyway, what’s the worst could happen.

Ch. 6

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fluff #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x reader #lizzie olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen fluff #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fluff #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #leigh shaw #elizabeth olsen x you #lizzie olsen x you #elizabeth olsen imagine #lizzie olsen imagine

[bimsha]

How They Propose You

Sano Manjiro /Mikey:

When Mikey took you to a grand restaurant instead of your usual street filled with street food, you were suspicious. You knew something must be up, but with Mikey, you never realized until it was the last minute. But the whole thing was fancy for both of you. Your eyes kept darting around all the beautifully dressed customers and the elegant waiters taking orders and rushing around. When the dessert came, you had let go of all your initial suspicions. The dessert was so good that you cleared the plate in mere seconds ignoring the very existence of your boyfriend. You looked up at him to compliment him for the grand dinner when you noticed the horrified expression of the blonde.

“Y/n, you ate the whole thing?”

“Yeah?” You answered, frowning. What’s the big deal?

“Oh my god” He said, now looking petrified for some reason. That expression was a first. He got up from his seat and rounded the table to get a clear look at your plate. At this point, you were being embarrassed. He crouched next to you, looking worried. “Do you feel weird or sick? Do you want to throw up? Should we go to a hospital?”

You sighed, "Mikey." You leaned closer to his ear so that the high class people wouldn't hear your beautiful language. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Y/n” He whispered back, “There was a ring in the dessert. I asked the waiter to put it in there.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “What?” You blurted out. You could care less about manners now. “You fed me a ring? Wait, I didn’t even know? I didn’t feel any different?”

“I was trying to propose!” Mikey countered, looking awfully sad. “I didn’t know you’d eat the ring too”

They had drawn a lot of attention. “Well, if there was a ring I should’ve felt it. I didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t there?” After a beat of silence you added, “Right?” But a corner of your mind was telling you there's actually a chance. You were a sucker for all those chocolate desserts. But a ring? No way… right?

Now you both were looking at each other with hopeless expressions thinking maybe Mikey would’ve killed you in the process of propsing and the murmurs were growing loud around you when a waiter walked in. They stopped right by their table, “Sir, I’m here to apologize. Our chef has mistakenly and forgot to put the ring on your dessert” He handed a surprised Mikey the ring, bowing deeply.

“Oh my god” Mikey sighed in relief, “I didn’t kill my girlfriend trying to propose her”

You sighed in relief, “I didn’t eat that thing. Thank god” When you started laughing, finding the whole thing funny, Mikey actually knelt on one knee. The whole restaurant was silent as he asked,

“Y/n, the love of my life, do you want to marry me?”

“Say yes” One of the guys screamed, “He didn’t feed you the ring. That man is worth it”

You flushed but offered your hand with a matching smile, “This is the best proposal ever”

Mikey rolled his eyes. “There goes my romantic dinner and proposal. But A for trying.”

You couldn’t tell anything otherwise else, because he deserved an A for trying.

Kazutora Hanemiya:

It was a cold winter morning and your boyfriend Kazu asked you to come to the park for an emergency. And there you were, rubbing your hands together trying to get rid of the coldness while waiting for your boyfriend to give him a good ass kicking for leaving you in the snow. You waited for a while, and instead of Kazutora, a little boy around seven appeared from the entrance and ran straight towards you. Something glistened in his hands. Then, he frowned, looking at you from head to toe. That’s when you realize he was actually holding onto a ring. Where did he get that? “Miss, would you like to marry me?” The youngster asked with so much determination that you almost laughed.

You were about to answer, when a familiar figure ran up to them. Kazutora didn’t pay any attention that you were there. He launched at the boy, trying to get the ring in his hand. “You little prick, I told you not to touch that! And she’s my girlfriend, back off”

You stared at them as they wrestled in the snow. Kazutora caught the little guy in a headlock and fished the ring out of his hands. “Got it!” He cheered.

“Uh Kazu? What’s going on here?”

He looked at you with an exasperated sigh. “This brat ruined everything. I had something to ask you.” He looked flustered, “But he stole-” He groaned, “Go back home.” He said to the boy. “I swear I’m going to buy you that whatever the shit you like”

The boy looked uncertain for a moment. He reached out his pinky, “Promise?”

Kazutora sighed, and sent the boy off. He stood up and dusted off the snow from his pants. You waited patiently when he went, “That’s my little cousin. He thought it would be funny to propose you.”

You laughed, “And why is that?”

Kazutora shrugged, fidgeting with the ring and looking at you. “Because I may or may not have been staring at your photo and practicing everything” He averted his gaze, abashed. “I had this all planned out. I’m going to ruin that brat!”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m still here”

He looked at you earnestly and took a step close. “We’ve been through a lot together. I may not have been the best boyfriend to you but I really love you Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you. Want to share your life with me for the rest of our lives?”

You offered your hand as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Of course” He slipped the ring to your finger with his own eyes sparkling with tears. You scowled.

“You’re not the one who’s supposed to cry!”

He grinned, leaning in and pecking your lips. “I’m just so happy you said yes” He said, picking you up and twirling you around. Both of you fell back to the snow, thinking about a lifetime of memories together.

Mitsuya Takashi:

You were casually sitting inside his work place, watching him designing another costume. Other times, you asked questions, but this time, you remained silent watching him work. There was a way Mitsuya worked when he was in here. He was graceful and confident. It was a sight to see. “Y/n” He called, taking your attention. “Can you come here for a sec?”

You frowned, but did as you were asked. When you reached him, he immediately started taking your measures, jotting down each. It was normal for him to make clothes for you but this was the first time he was doing it without asking about the design or showing you a picture. “What’s it?”

Mitsuya gestures at the mess of white cloth beside him. “An order came asking me to make a wedding dress, I took the measures for future use” He grinned, pulling out something from his pocket. You stared at the velvet box as he opened it. A ring glistening inside. “Y/n” His voice was smooth. He took a step closer.

You just watched him, surprised as he knelt on one knee. “I’ve always wanted a life with you. I’ve dreamed about it many times. Would you let my dreams come true and be my soulmate for the rest of my life?”

You said yes and watched as he slipped the gold band to your finger. “You literally took the measurement to my future wedding dress before asking? I’m gonna remember that Takashi?”

He stood up and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “Just had to set up the vibe.” He said, looking at the white cloth draped along the counter. “You’re going to look beautiful in a wedding dress. I should start working on it”

Baji Keisuke:

One thing you liked about Baji was that he said the weirdest shit sometimes. Like right now. Both of you had your own respected soda cans in your hands while he suddenly uttered, “You know, marrying is weird”

You huffed, “And that is because?”

“Like listen. Two people are like, okay we love each other. Let’s get the whole government involved and make it official so we can actually make babies and spend time together.” He scowled, taking a sip. “That’s just fucked up”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Now that you’ve said it, it does sound fucked up”

He put the soda can away and pulled out a silver band, looking at him with his serious look. “Should we get the government involved too?”

You looked at the ring, back at his face but decided to play along. “We should totally get the government involved in all our shit” When you offered your hand, he easily slipped the ring in. He reached down and kissed it, looking at you adoringly. “That was the most funniest, and the ridiculous proposal I have ever heard.”

Baji shrugged, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder. “That was the best proposal, I know you think so too”

“Ridiculous doesn’t mean I don’t like it. You’re right, that’s the best proposal”

Bonus:

The two of you decided to announce your engagement to the rest of the gang. Baji confidently stood in front of them, your hand in his, holding onto tightly when he announced. “We’re going to get the government involved”

You cracked up, looking at the other’s expressions, they had no clue what was going on. Chifuyu actually looked like he understood. “Congratulations!” The younger said, beaming. "When is the wedding?”

The realization dawned upon them and soon they were all gasping for their breaths, calling out for water and literally dying on the floor.

Chifuyu Matsuno:

When Chifuyu asked whether you wanted to hang out at his place, it didn’t strike you as anything odd. You two often hung out at each other’s places when your parents were away. He usually kept the door unlocked and you walked in. It was the same that Sunday morning but after you walked in you realized that actually it was pretty weird. Your boyfriend was there, kneeling in front of his refrigerator. Hold up, was that a ring? Is he proposing the fridge? He looked really serious as he took a long breath, opening the box as if he was in a movie. You watched quietly, the moment was too golden to interrupt. He picked the gold band carefully out of the box and held it in front of the fridge. “Y/n, you’re amazing. You’re the best person I have ever met in my life” He was saying to the fridge, “It’s a miracle I found you. Do you want to be mine? Marry me, please?”

The fridge didn’t answer. OF COURSE. The problem would be if it actually answered. He looked satisfied with the practice. That’s when you decided to break it to him and actually clear your throat. The poor guy jumped out of his skin and stared at you horrified. His gaze shifting between the fridge and you. “Are you cheating on me? With that thing?”

He flushed, his ears going pink. “Y/n! Did you- I mean when did-” He groaned, flopping to the floor like a kicked puppy. “Everything’s ruined”

“I’m sorry” You tried, trying to suppress your laughter. “Let’s try again. We go back in time.”

He looked at you to see whether you’re joking and solemnly nodded. “You should be in the character”

You nodded, and closed the door. And this time, you knocked on the door. Your heart was pumping with excitement. Despite the fact you were supposed to act like you don’t know what's going to happen, you were thrilled. Chifuyu opened the door. Despite his defeated look earlier, he seemed to have gained back some of his courage. He didn’t wait until he let you in. He just knelt right there, holding up the ring. He looked a little bit too excited to get the whole speech out as he just blurted, “Please marry me?”

You laughed, “Of course!” He slipped the ring into your finger and stood. Before you could comment, he connected your lips, kissing you right there, with your hands stopped in mid air in surprise. He pulled back with a cocky grin.

“I added an extra surprise element”

You scoffed, “Never going to get over the fact your proposal speech to the fridge was better”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

You grinned, “Never! I’m going to tell our grandchildren that his grandfather proposed to a fridge. The story must go on!”

He groaned, “You’re just mean” He pulled you in, closing the door behind you. “But I love you.”

You hummed with a smile, “I love you too, you big dork”

I don't know why I did this but I did this so get it. I might do some more later. This is fun (":

#propose #tr #tokyo revengers #Mikey #Sano Manjiro #Bimsha writes #Drabbles #oneshot #mitsuya hcs #Kazutora #Baji #Chifuyu #Kinda Crack #x you #xy/n #drabbles

[middleearthpixie]

Damaged Goods ~ Chapter Forty-Three

Author's Note: Just a reminder that this story takes place following the events of the miniseries Stay Close and will contain spoilers.

Title: Damaged Goods

Fandom: Stay Close

Pairings: Ray Levine x OC female Theodora (Theo) Bailey

Summary: Following the events of Stay Close, Ray Levine has come to the US to begin a new life and is staying with Theo Bailey, the friend of a friend, who is quickly becoming his best friend and Ray is starting to wonder if there isn’t something more there between them.

Like Ray, Theo has her own demons and although she wonders the same thing about Ray, fear of repeating past mistakes keep her from moving forward. Or do they? Somehow, these two damaged people will come together and discover that maybe—just maybe—second chances are worth the risk.

Ray is faced with the decision of whether or not to accept the position with the AP…

Warnings: Oral sex (m/f receiving) intercourse, some fluff as well

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,851

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being @shalinizhara @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here and AO3

It was well after dark by the time Ray was pulling into the parking lot (carpark, as he called it) across the street from his building and Theo was just about done in. Blackpool was much like Seaside Heights, Seaside Park, and Point Pleasant all rolled into one. The foods were a little different, but they were equally delicious and she sighed as she climbed out of the Mercedes. “I feel like a bear getting ready for hibernation.”

He came around the nose of the car. “But did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did.” She nodded, sliding her arm about his waist. “It was a great day, thank you.”

“Thanking me? For spending a day in the sun, on the beach, and riding roller coasters? Love, anytime you want to do those things, I’m your man.”

He pulled away from her to flip through his keys and unlocked the front door, then reached in to flip the lights on, and gestured for her to step in. She slipped out of her light jacket to hang on the hook just inside the doorway. “It really was a wonderful day, but I feel a little sticky.”

“Go on up and shower,” Ray said as his phone rang. He dug it from his pocket. “It’s Adam Grant.”

“Really? You should probably take this, then.”

He nodded, moving toward the kitchen as he answered it. “Ray Levine.”

She paused at the foot of the staircase and watched for a moment as Ray slightly bowed his head and said, “I did, yes. And I—sure… let me just go down into my studio. Hold on a moment.”

He lowered the phone and smiled at her. “He wants to see my portfolio.”

“I’m perfectly capable of showering on my own, Mr. Levine.” She winked. “Go.”

He winked back and moved toward the stairs while she headed above. The bathroom was smaller than the one in her old apartment, with a narrow shower stall instead of a tub, a sink with separate hot and cold taps and a stopper in place of a drain, and a small toilet.

The shower taps squeaked as she opened them and the spray was needle sharp. But, there was plenty of hot water and she sighed as it pounded against her skin. She conditioned and shampooed her hair, then picked up the small bar of English soap, which was half the size of its American counterparts and scented far more softly, with hints of lavender and rose. Still, it lathered beautifully and didn't dry out her skin, so if she ever had to go back to the States, she’d have to make sure to bring as much of it into the country as she could carry.

When she finished, she dried off with a fluffy towel and stepped out onto the bathmat, then padded across the hall to Ray’s bedroom. She dressed in cozy sweats, squeezed most of the water from her hair and combed it out to let it air dry the rest of the way. As she went back below, it was to find the main floor empty. He must have still been on the phone with Adam Grant.

She moved as noiselessly as she could down the narrow staircase and at the foot, turned to see Ray at his desk, his phone facedown on it, his elbow braced on the arm of his chair and his chin resting on his hand.

“Is everything all right?” she asked softly, not wanting to startle him.

He jumped anyway. “What? No… everything is fine, love.” He smiled over his shoulder at her. “He offered me the job.”

“Did he?” She smiled even as her gut kinked slightly. “That’s wonderful! What did you tell him?”

“That I had to talk it over with my wife first.”

It still sounded strange to hear him refer to her that way, but it was strange in a nice way, one that made warmth ripple through her. She crossed over to him. “We’ve already talked about it, though.”

He slowly swung about to face her. “We did, but we were speaking in hypotheticals. Now, it’s a real, concrete offer.”

“Well, what are the details?”

“It’ll pay more than my working for Fester and running my classes combined. It would be enough for you to not have to work if you’d rather not.” He reached for her hands, catching them to tug her down across his lap. “But…”

She knew what that meant. She drew in a deep breath, letting her fingers trace through the silver strands at his temples. “How much traveling is there?”

“I don’t know. He couldn’t say.” He slid an arm about her waist, leaning his head back against the leather. “And he said they’d try to keep me in England, or at least in the UK, but he couldn’t rule out my having to go outside the UK as well.”

“For how long?”

He shook his head. “Couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say.”

“Do you want to take this job, Ray? Be completely honest with me and with yourself—do you want it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ray.”

“I don’t. On one hand, it’s an opportunity I may not ever see again. But on the other, I don’t know I want to live that life again.”

“Why?”

The look he shot her suggested she was crazy for asking. “You know why.”

“Pretend I don’t and you have to convince me.” She eased off his lap to stand before him. “Do you want this job?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, slowly turning from left to right and back again. “As I said, it’s a fantastic opportunity. But, I don’t have just me to consider any longer.”

“So then you do want to take it?”

“I don’t know!” Exasperation wove into his voice. “I can’t pretend you don’t know the reasons why and I’m not about to try. The fact is, if I take it, I’ll probably be sent around the world again. And you’d be left here. Alone. And that’s a hell of a way to start off a marriage and do you really want that now?”

“I’d make do, you know. It’s not like I’ve never lived alone.” She shook her head. “And don’t use me as a reason, either because if you really want this job and you don’t take it, you’ll only resent me at some point as the one who held you back from it.”

He sighed softly, closing his eyes. “I know. And if I take it, you’ll end up resenting me at some point. I’m damned no matter which way I decide.”

“Ray,” she moved back toward him, leaning over to catch the chair by the armrests to still him, “you have to do what you think is best for you.”

“No. I have to do what is best for us.”

“I’ve already told you how I feel about it. If you want it, go for it. I’ve said that since the beginning.”

“In the beginning, you were my roommate and I was the guy who slept on your couch.”

“Ray.”

“Theo.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t use me as your excuse. You used Cassie as one for seventeen years and look where it got you. Don’t make the same fucking mistake!”

His eyes narrowed. “It got me you, so—”

“Okay. Fine. You know what? Do whatever you want. Just don’t use me as the excuse when you regret not doing this.” She stepped back from the chair. “You spent over a year in Iraq, Ray. And survived it. Why are you so scared now?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Sure you are. You want to stay right here and teach photography not necessarily because you love doing it, but because it’s safe.”

Leather squeaked as he got to his feet. His eyes were bright with fury as he growled, “I left all of this behind to come to America and start over again, Theo. Not exactly something a coward does, is it?”

“And you ran right back here after three months.” She shook her head, folding her arms and leveling him with the same look. “The same man who won a Pulitzer for the photos he took in a fucking war zone is now afraid to take the chance he’s been praying he’d be offered. And that is something I never thought I’d see.”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he said, “I’ve got a great track record of making terrible decisions, Theo. Decisions that hurt people. Decisions that cost me people I cared about.”

Her irritation slipped from her gut. With a heavy sigh, she said, “It won’t cost you me, Ray. I promise you it won’t.” She closed the space between them, slipping her arms about his waist. “Trust your instincts. If your gut tells you to take this job, then take it.”

“And if I get sent into another war zone?”

“We’ll deal with it if and when it happens. Maybe you’ll be assigned to some foreign bureau and I can go with you. Maybe you’ll end up back in the States. Who knows? But you should try. You know you should.”

His eyes softened, his hands coming up to curve against her her cheeks and heat swept through her as his thumbs grazed her cheekbones. He tilted her face to his and his lips came down softly against hers.

His kiss came soft and slow and deep and teasing and her blood warmed by degrees as his tongue slid between her lips to caress hers. She caught the bottom of his dark blue tee shirt and slid her hands beneath it to skim up toward his shoulder blades, then teasingly dragged her fingernails down to the waist of his jeans.

He shivered against her, whispering, “Let’s go upstairs, love.”

He pressed her down into the mattress, and she parted her legs to accommodate his hips, sighing into his mouth as he arched hard against her, the firm ridge of his cock pressing oh-so-nicely into the growing ache between her thighs. She hooked her legs about his waist, pulling him hard against her as she did so, and the shiver rippling through her was spicy and sweet at the same time.

Ray moved down over her chin, his lips hot and teasing along her neck, up toward her ear, then down once more into the slope of her shoulder. He shoved her sweatshirt up, pulling back to tug it from her, to just toss aside as he devoured her, smoking hot kisses along her collarbone, over the rise of her left breast. He slid a hand beneath her, gave a flick of his wrist, and her bra strap gave, and with that same hand, he pulled it free, let it join her sweatshirt in a ball at the foot of the bed.

Her back arched as he seized her nipple between teasing lips, as he swirled his tongue around it, slid over it, sucked hard at it. She bit down hard on her bottom lip as embers of desire glowed to life, sparking, igniting, to send heat billowing through her. Her hips moved of their own as he continued teasing her nipple, rocking hard up against him. Sensual tension wound through her, twisted deep inside her, melting her core to send it pooling between her thighs. Each roll brought some relief, but not nearly enough.

He gave one last flick of his tongue, then moved down over her belly. He caught the waist of her sweats, shoved them past her hips, and they, too, ended up in a ball, only this time on the floor.

His lips swept along sensitive skin just above the scalloped lace edge of the pale blue thong she wore. His fingers brushed the outside of her thighs, which made her shiver almost as much as each hot kiss did. She slid her fingers into his hair, her heavy-lidded eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into the blue lace triangle covering her. A breathless sigh leaked through her teeth when he hooked his fingers into the thong’s sides and teasingly drew them down, his fingers sweeping along her outer thighs, along her calves, and when she forced her eyes open once more, it was to see him offering up a wolfish smile as he gazed upon her.

“You are so beautiful, do you know that?” he whispered, bending over to press a kiss into where her thigh sloped. He kissed higher, his nose just brushing her curls.

He shifted, his breath hot against her aching, damp flesh and when he lifted his head, his eyes were nearly cobalt with desire, his voice a low purr as he murmured, “You’re already wet for me, love… So sinfully wet for me, indeed…”

A delicious shiver rippled through her as he bent to her and with just the tip of his tongue, teased her with a slow, soft caress from her entrance to her clit. She couldn’t hold back her moan as the heat became smoke, and smoke became fire and with every teasing pass—around her clit, down to her opening, back up and over her clit—the knots tightened a little more, sweet and aggravatingly hot and no amount of moving again him eased the tension.

He moved slowly. Deliberately. His tongue came flat against her, the roughness sending fire ribboning through her as those knots began to come undone, as she began to come undone. Her fingers twisted in his hair, guided him to where the pleasure came the sweetest, where it had her hips moving of their own, rolling to meet him. Each teasing pass brought forth a new and more delectable sensation than the last, drove her closer to the edge of madness.

She arched to meet him, desperate for the release of orgasm. Sensual tension tightened every sinew, every fiber, left her breathless and pleading, “Ray…. oh… God… yes…” as she twisted her fingers tighter in his hair to hold him exactly where he was. She was so close… so… fucking… close.

“Ray!” She shattered, coming in a fiery flash that had her hips bolting to meet him, had her writhing beneath him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her, driving all rational thought from her mind. He was no longer slow and gentle, but relentless, holding her down as he thoroughly destroyed her with his tongue alone.

She sank into the mattress, her entire body spasming from the single most powerful orgasm she’d ever had. She fought to breath, going limp beneath him, and as his mouth found hers, she flattened both hands against his chest and shoved to topple him onto his back.

He smiled up at her, his eyes glittering sapphire as she swept his tee shirt up and he tugged it over his head. She straddled him, then bent over and pressed a kiss into his chest, smiling as his fingers slipped into her hair. He gathered it in both hands, lifting it away from her face as she trailed kisses over his belly, down to the waist of his jeans.

She pulled free of his grasp, sitting back to smile as she slowly eased his belt from the loops on his jeans, then unbuckled it. A hint of a teasing smile played at his lips while he tucked his hands back behind his head and winked. Heat swirled through her at that wink, and she returned his smile, held his gaze, as she slipped the button on his jeans through its hole, then slid down the zipper.

The bed shifted as she moved to wrestle denim from his legs, and as her gaze went back to the black boxer briefs he wore, she held back a sigh at the sight of him tenting the cotton. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine a time when the sight of him aroused wouldn’t twist her belly so delightfully. Just knowing she had that effect on him without really even touching him yet was beyond heady.

His eyelids started to slide shut as she curved her fingers about the rough waistband of his briefs, but they rose against when she teasingly drew the soft cotton away from him. He sprang free from the confines, a low, “Ohhhh…” rising from him like a mist when she bent over and closed her lips about him.

She moved as slowly as he had with her, just explored every hot, veined inch of his cock with first the tip of her tongue, then the flat of it. He drew one hand from behind his head to bury it in her hair, gathered it once more to hold it away from her face and when she peered up at him, it was to see him watching her intently, his eyes almost black with desire now.

Heat spiked through her at the lust in his eyes, and she held his stare easily, drawing back enough to trace his length with just the tip of her tongue.

A muscle danced in his jaw, his hips rose to meet her, his voice husky and raw as he purred, “Oh, good girl… just like that…”

She moved slower now, licking down along his shaft to the nest of coarse dark curls at his base, then back up, to the bubble of fluid at his tip. She took him deep, caressed him lightly, closed her lips about him to pull, which made his fingers tighten in her hair and his voice even growlier as he gritted, “Holy… shit… don’t stop… please, do not stop…”

He thrust to meet her, shuddering beneath her. She felt the tension swirling through him, heard it in his increasingly plaintive sighs and moans. He tugged the handful of hair he held, and finally growled, “I want you… Jesus Christ, I just want you, Theo…”

She let her lips glide along him as she slowly eased him from her mouth. “And if I say no?��

He smiled up at her. “You won’t.”

“I might.”

She moved to bend over him once more, but he pulled away and a moment later, she found herself beneath him, and he rocked toward her, his cock dipping into the slick heat between her thighs. He carefully fit himself inside her and offered up a slow thrust that had her tightening about him at once.

He arched one eyebrow. “Still want to say no?”

She couldn’t hold back her smile. “I might.”

A low laugh rumbled across his lips. “Liar.”

He had her. She didn't want to say no at all. How could she, when he just felt so amazing when they were skin to skin? The sensations he sent singing through her were beyond delicious and each teasing thrust was enough to make her clench him, to hold him tighter and pull him deeper as she tingled all around him.

He offered up slow, leisurely thrusts, and she met him with each one. But, each one also had her tightening about him, greedy in her need to feel all of him as deeply as she could.

“Easy, love,” he whispered, going still. “You feel too good and if we aren’t careful, I’m going to come any moment…”

As he spoke, he reached for the drawer pull on his nightstand. The movement was enough to make her gasp and squeeze him, which made him moan in return. Still, he managed to fish out a condom, and she bit back a sigh of disappointment as he pulled free of her to put it on.

But then he was back and this time, there was no stopping him as he surged into her, his thrusts hard and fast and powerful and deep. She pressed her knees hard into his sides as he moved faster now. Her head spun from the pleasure eddying through her, each deep thrust bringing her closer to the edge once more.

He rose onto his forearms, his thrusts fast and furious now, and she melted around him as he shuddered, as he tensed, and with a low, “Theo!” he surrendered the moment and she joined him, wrapping her legs tight about his waist, digging her fingernails deep into his shoulders, and clinging to him as they shared in the sensual delight of a mutual climax.

Ray sank against her, his head coming to rest in the curve of her shoulder, his breath short, hot blasts against her skin. “Theo… oh… god… baby…”

Wrapping her arms about him, she nuzzled him and murmured back, “Mmmmm…”

His lips grazed the side of her neck. “I love you.”

“I love you back.”

He reached between them and she bit back a sigh as he carefully pulled free of her and then shifted to flop onto his back. His eyes were closed, his breathing almost back to normal, and the silence that stretched between them was a comfortable one.

“Ray?”

“Yeah, love?”

“I’m sorry for what I said in your studio, about you being afraid. I really didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t apologize. I don’t think you were wrong. I am afraid of taking that job. I’m afraid it’ll come between us.”

“Me, too,” she admitted softly, rising onto one elbow to peer down through the darkness at him. “But, I’m more afraid of what would happen if you regret not taking it.”

She didn't see him move, but then his hand was at her nape, his fingers slipping through her hair as his hand came up to cradle the back of her head. “Theo, you know you’re the love of my life, right? I mean, I know I haven’t said it, but you are. And the last thing I want is to fuck this up.”

He said it so softly, it was barely a whisper, but she felt it as if it was an actual blow that took her breath away. “Ray…”

“What?”

Her throat tightened, a lump rising to block her voice. How did she even begin to explain to him how she felt about him? Her own feelings frightened her at times because they just seemed so overpowering and so powerful. She’d never felt about any man the way she did about him and that scared her.

But, she certainly couldn’t say that.

The sheets rustled softly and the hand on her head pressed her toward him. Their lips met in a soft kiss, the sheets rustling again as he rolled to pin her beneath him. Braced on his forearms, he held himself above her and she could just make out his features, the way his hair fell about his face. Her eyes stung with unexpected tears and the most she could do was murmur, “I love you.”

“I love you back, Theo.” He bent to her, nuzzling her as he added, “You are everything to me. Never doubt that.”

“Same,” she whispered back. It was the only word she could force past that lump. A moment later, it didn't matter as Ray’s mouth found hers and she tried to say with her kiss what she couldn’t quite put into words. Somehow, she had the feeling he understood. He got her.

#richard armitage #stay close #stay close fanfic #fanfic #ray levine #ray levine x oc #romance #friends to lovers #damaged people #healing #love story #some smut

[jasonsthots]

Almost hiding the darkness within

I have no clue how to post this properly but here we go-

Big thanks to @jaybirdsdarling like without her I definitely couldn't have made this or even posted it so thanks babes 😘

Warnings- smut- lots of it, yandere peoples, slight noncon to dubcon? Violence, slight gun play, voyeurism, cuckolding--- basically bring your holy water (there might be more but not sure 😚)

It all started with the landing. Ya' know the one. That superhero landing. The one that looks like it really hurts the knees. When that, a brown leather jacket, red helmet wearing man landed like that in front of her like a human shield. Those that had been trying to mug her, knew it was over before it had started. Before they had a chance to run, he was on them. Limps, noses, all broken when he was done.

When he was done, he just simply stood up and turned to her. She was smiling dumbly, she knew that. Her cheeks hurt, dried tears stained her cheeks, nose stuffed from running and she was sure her hair was a mess from the tugging the men had done. But she didn't care, her savor was right there-

"Miss, always put your money away inside when it's given, not when you're outside. Honestly. I thought this was common knowledge." His mechanical voice rang through the alley as he passed by, his back now to her as he looked over one last time. "And especially not in an alleyway with 100 different kinds of graffiti." And with that, he grappled away.

Y/n's pout was deep as she looked on. Giving a swift kick to one of the robbers that laid on the pavement. "Maybe next time..."

_______

It was like she had planned it. He had to start watching her. He had to. She was like a magnet for trouble. It was almost a nightly thing. Like she would purposely find the most dangerous part in Gotham to go and act like a ditz. She wasn't though. She knew better. He'd seen it. The simple smacks she gave to guys at the diner who got too handsy. She wasn't defenseless. Yeah those were small slaps to the hands, but they were a sign that she definitely could handle herself enough to know not to go into that damn alley. And there she went. In the damn alley. So like he had for the past few weeks, he swung down.

He should know better. He has bigger problems. Like that big fuckin' mafia guy who's selling drugs, weapons and people for gods sake. But there he was. Once again, kicking ass for the same girl, night after night. The simple finger point doing nothing as this time, she walked up- and grabbed it. Bringing his hand close to her face and resting it on her cheek. An unfamiliar touch that had his heart swelling and any bit of anger he held to her disappear in an instant.

She looked up to where his white covered eyes were and smiled, the grime on her face and wrecked hair not taking from the beauty she possessed. Her eyes twinkled under the dim Gotham lights, her smile twisted, breathtaking. "You always seem to be here just in time huh?"

A groan was heard from the men at their feet, earning a kick from her.

Jason's eyebrow tweaked at her action, a small smile creeping to his lips.

"Seems like it, you should be more careful, doll."

A nickname that came so easily. Her heart accepted it with open arms as she pushed her body closer to his, craning her neck back to look at him properly. "But then, how else would I see you Red?"

The man smirked under his helmet, a low chuckle coming out almost like static from the voice changer. Him too taking a step forward. "So, you admit you do this on purpose?"

A low groan erupted from the men again, this time Red kicking them to silence. Y/n hummed and rested her other hand on his waist, their chest pressed gently to each other. "Is that bad? I didn't really know how to work a signal in the sky, so I settled."

"On getting mugged?" The black haired man asked amused, the girl shrugging in response with a small giggle. Jason couldn't hold the smile that spread across his cheeks as he finally snapped the helmet off, the domino mask coming as a disappointment to the shorter girl. Still, she appreciated having something more than an off putting helmet to get off to from now on.

"It worked didn't it?" She spoke softly as she caressed his now exposed cheek.

"There were safer ways." He spoke back, barely above a whisper as their faces neared. Jason felt like his heart would pound out of his chest. Did she really do that for just a chance to see him? She... put her life on the line- for the possibility to see him? That-

That was the nicest thing anyone had done for him.

"Worth it."

Just like that, those last few inches were gone, their lips finally meeting in a soft, heart warming kiss.

Cough. Cough. "Fuckin'-- psychopaths- uggh-" Kick.

_________

Weekly visits became nightly, nightly became daily, and before they knew it, they lived together. Suddenly it became as easy as breathing, being together. Y/n's dumb plans didn't need to happen to get his attention, he was already there. She had his number. She had him in her bed. She had him. Jason knew this. And he was thrilled. He was worried at first. Was he moving too fast? Slow? No. She reassured him. It was just the right pace. She felt the same. They felt like all the pieces to each other's puzzles were finally falling into place.

Until the day happened.

Y/n, was, to put it lightly, odd. The girl had intentionally gotten robbed multiple times just to talk to the guy for god's sake. This, of course, led to her developing a certain set of.....skills.

See, to the common eye it would have looked like she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But she always knew when to go. She knew when he was watching her and when there was something....more important than her that needed help. So when she felt a new set of eyes on her. She knew something was up. It wasn't the other Batfamily members. They honestly....had a hard time wrapping their heads around her and deemed her tolerable at best. No. These were prying eyes.

These eyes didn't leave her. No, no. They stayed. For weeks. She felt them. They were learning. Listening to everything she said, everything she did, seeing everywhere she went. They picked it all up. They were picking up any information from when she got off work to how long she took showers.

And she liked it.

She felt guilty. She felt dirty. She didn't know why she didn't tell Jason. He was her everything after all, and boy would he be furious if he were to learn such things were taking place.....yes....furious.

Boy would she not want that.

So there she was, her wrist tied to a cold metal chair. Her struggles are no longer a problem, her shit talking too due to the gag they placed after the hundredth "when my boyfriend finds out" shtick. Her blindfold long removed as the man responsible sat in front of her, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at every detail of her exposed skin. Her dress shredded into pieces from the whole ordeal. Y/n held back the smile that tried to spread as she saw him shuffling uncomfortably as his eyes raked over her lower half, her thighs that were spread wider from being tied to opposite legs. Her lower region on display.

The man cleared his throat as he scooted closer, his legs wedging in between her spread ones. The light shone perfectly to every curve of his dark covered face. The only seen color being his eyes and the tips of his cheeks. "So. Shackin' up with Red huh? It must be fun. I imagine you play his therapist a lot? Heard he has alotta daddy issues."

The tied girl let out a huff as she turned her head. How dare he speak like that. He has no idea what Jason has been through. To put it so lightly.

The man tilted to the side to meet her gaze that had turned cold. He laughed. "Oh what? Did I hurt your feelings? Suddenly you feelin' tough or somethin'?" He leaned forward. And that's when she finally gasped. The gag of course muffled it, adding to the already hard to breathe problem she was having. "Yeah. Don't be. Ain't in any position to be acting all high and mighty."

When his hand raised on to her shoulder, his thumb brushing against her pluses before wrapping his hand around her neck to face him, her mind couldn't care less about the man getting physical. The only thing she could think of was what she was looking at. How....she knew how. There was a man who looked like a human but was actually an alien flying around, anything was possible.

So this was the man. She had of course heard of him. Not only from her significant other, but she did use to live in a not so friendly neighborhood. Even then, if you didn't know who this was, well, welcome to Gotham, where there's a Bat running around and a man whose face is literally a black skull. Yes. Black mask.

She mumbled.

The man sighed heavily and took the gag out. "If you say one more thing about the fuckin' Redhood- I will say fuck this whole plan and just send your head instead."

"Just wanted to say I didn't know death took vacations."

The nicely suited man barked a laugh as he stood and straightened his jacket. Y/n's smirk fell as he lowered his face to level with her, his hand resting next to her head dangerously close. "It's going to be fun breaking you."

____________

Jason was losing it. He had pretty much torn the house brick by brick searching for her. His love. His doll. His darling. She wasn't here. She hadn't been for days. Weeks? God what was he kidding. He knew exactly how long. He felt it. When she was taken. Like a sixth sense. He knew something was up. And sure enough, when he got home- she was gone.

He should have put the tracker in. He had talked to her about it, and she agreed to do it. It was safer. But he just...never got around to actually doing it. He had thought about performing some light surgery on her arm, nothing major, just putting it in her arm. That was a bit much. He had thought about putting it into a needle and doing it that way. Decided he didn't want to hurt her. Wanted to put it in her food. Didn't want her to choke. Thought about in a small box! Didn't want her to freak out and think he was proposing. So- here he was. Panicking because he had no idea where she was, if she was alive, and why she was even gone in the first place.

Jason tried to keep his mind from going to a dark place. The place that wondered if it was on purpose. She'd done it before. Stressed him out by putting her life on the line. He thought it was cute almost. "It's not cute anymore." He spoke to no one. The house was in ruins. His fists were bloodied and bruised from all the ass he'd been beating. There were no leads for weeks. Every stone was turned but nothing made sense. Friends couldn't get a word in, Jason created this whole new world where it was just him. "It's not fuckin'- cute- any- more-!" Each scream coming with a new hit, objects and people blending together. He was getting to that place.

What if she actually left? Not a game she played. Not some weird attention seeking act. She.....left.

It wasn't looking good, and it just kept getting worse.

__________

Her h/c sweat covered hair was swooped to the side, her fight dying down. There was no use, it was going to happen either way. "C'mon, don't pretend you don't like it, doll."

She winched. "What? Isn't that what he called you? Doll? Nothing special about it, you are a fucktoy after all." A laugh ripped from Roman's bare chest at his own twisted joke.

Yeah. There he was. Proud of the almost broken woman in front of him, naked and in charge of the situation. The blinking light at the end of the bed was a reminder of how fucked she really was. Both figuratively and literally. His fingers were gilding through her folds with an ease she was ashamed of. The sounds made making her stomach turn. She didn't like this. She wasn't turned on. She didn't want him......

These were the things she used to tell herself.

She was ashamed at how quickly she had felt herself give in. Was that what she always wanted? To be used as some fucktoy for some scumbag that hurt and used her and others however he wanted?

God no. She couldn't have.

She wanted Jason.

Then why....

Why did she spread her legs wider?

They spread as far as she could get them, her soaked core on full display for the camera to see, the man behind it zooming in as they themselves got closer. Getting a quiet growl like warning from Roman not to get too close.

The moans that followed were nothing short of pornographic. Her back was arched off the bed as her legs shook, those wrist restraints keeping her from getting a hold on the man who was putting her through euphoric torture. "Roman..." Her whimper sent a shock straight to the man's cock.

On full attention it stood, bobbing up and down as he moved to unhook her, repositioning her to face the camera on all fours. Her face was.....sinful. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth gaping opening, her hair tousled. Her body was even still shaking from her previous orgasms leading to her almost falling as Roman began his painfully fast and hard thrust. Her moans rippled straight from her chest out of her throat. His hand wrapped around her hair and yanked it back, her chest heaving and back painfully arched. Sweat dripped off their bodies from what seemed like hours long of pure fucking. His other hand came to her front to rub at her clit in fast motions that had her hips bucky in an unruly way as they couldn't find out to get away or push back. Opting for the latter.

She met his thrust hungrily every time as best she could, the room filled with moans and the sound of skin slapping together at harsh speeds. Roman's pace was unforgiving, it didn't let up after the next orgasms hit her.

"Where should I do it now, huh? You want me to cum in your tight hole again? You can't waste it like you did last time though. If you do, you won't be getting my cock for a long time. And a whore needs their masters cock now don't they?"

Y/n's mouth formed wide Os as she tried to form some words to satisfy him. "Fuck- yes Roman- fuck I promise-" Her moans ripped through. "T-to no-not waste any-of- ohh~"

This seemed to be enough because the next thing she knew, she felt it. His cock twitched violently as his hips lost rhythm, his cum spilling inside of her, filling her once more. His grip on her scalp burned, but she didn't stop from that twisted and sinister smile to spread on her face as she grinded her hips back. A sharp slap being delivered to her ass cheeks as Roman barked out at her, "Stop being such a cock whore." This threatening tone dropped almost immediately as he soon laughed, grappling her chin and tilting her back to kissing her, a sloppy wet heat filled kiss. "Now that video's a keeper."

_____________

Jason finally lost it. Be felt dumb. He felt hurt. He felt utterly betrayed. His sweet, poor darling- the actual fucking cumslut. For Roman. Sionis. He had been hunting her down for months. And there she was. Accepting- no asking- no- begging for Black masks cock. For his cum. The things she did for Jason, she was now doing for that scum. He was pissed. How fucking dare she? After all he's done for her? No- he couldn't think that way. There was no way. It was his darling. His doll. She loved him too much for that. No. It was all an act. It had to be. She would never do that to him.

This is what he wanted to believe as he watched the hour long videos that kept making their way to him. Her lips wrapped hungerly around another man's cock. Being pulled away just for her to stick her tongue out to get another taste, receiving a slap to her cheek. "Don't be such a greedy slut." Was Romans words.

Videos on videos of Roman fucking Jason's girl. Cum filling up every hole the scum could want, all eagerly accepted from the girl he swore would be crying to be saved, instead relishing in the fuck fest she was dealt.

His fist clenched around his cock, furiously stroking away. God he missed her.

Her face was covered in the white ropes, her mouth taking in as much as it could as Roman pumped himself in her face. Jason fucking hated it. But god did she look fucking hot. He hated it. He hated him. He hated her. But that didn't stop him from unloading on his computer screen. His brow furrowed as pure rage coursed through his blood. He was getting her back. And she would see who she fuckin' really belonged too.

______________

Y/n knew it wouldn't be long. She played with herself, her fingers dancing across her wet slit showing just how wet she was. Her moans gentle as she spread her legs wider for the camera. "C'mon closer, get nice and in there." Her voice coaxed, of course Roman shouting orders for the camera man not to move. Her pout aimed towards the angered man. "Well if you won't let him touch me will you at least? You know I can't do it myself, you ruined me Roman~" She cooed.

The man in question groaned out and walked over, his cock next to her face as he claimed to a kneeling position on the bed. "Well, warm me up first, doll."

"Yes sir~" Her free hand came up to stroke the semi next to her. Her smile was anything but sweet and innocent like she feigned. Her tongue poking out to taste the precum that had been building up from the show. "But it looks like you're already good to go." The wink that came after did something different to Roman. God. When had he become so fuckin' turned on by watching her? When did he get so hard by her just existing? When did he want to see her asking- begging for him and it not being about fuckin' with the hood?

He wasn't sure. But he didn't hate the feeling. Especially when he buried his cock deep inside her. Her legs were spread and the angle was perfect, her back to him and front to the camera. Was this guy a director or what? Surely this would make the hood pissed off. Even if not- damn was she a good fucktoy.

_________

It wasn't the middle of the night. No. It was broad daylight when he broke in. It had taken him way too long for his liking. He had gotten a dozen more videos before he had finally found Black masks place. It's not like he could have asked for backup, they wouldn't understand. Not like they cared for her anyway. No, he had to do it on his own. And damn was that a good idea.

'Cause there he was. Bullets flying everywhere. It didn't matter who, how many. Each one had a special bullet for them in his head. Each one of these fuckers responsible for her kidnapping. Her torture. Torture. That's what it was. She didn't like it. She hated- she hated it. Yeah. She hated it. Was ridiculous how many times he had to remind himself of that. Yeah the videos were convincing. But he knew her better than those videos. He knew she wouldn't actually be begging for scum like that.

"You ruined me, Roman~"

Kept replaying in his head. That same line.

"I'll fucking show you ruined."

_______________

There they were. Two guns. One trained on a man in a designer italian suit. The other trained to an all to calm on the inside girl. "Now now. You wouldn't want to waste your time just by having me kill her would you?" Roman threatened, the gun he held pushing further into the girls head, the same gun Jason had seen her sucking on in multiple videos.

The Y/n's head was throbbing. Not just from the gun in her head but because she was- so excited.

She really played the long game, huh?

Jason clenched the gun tighter. His mask was doing a great job of keeping it together, because he certainly wasn't. "How 'bout you just make this easier for both of us and. Let. Her. Go. Like you said- I don't want to waste my time." Whether you were on the receiving end or not- it sent chills down their spines and a certain tingle down below for the h/c haired girl.

Roman clenched his jaw tight. His arm that's as wrapped around her tighter as he backed up. And backed up. And backed up. "Now now Sionis. I've never taken you for someone who'd rather kill themselves then hand someone over. Must have really gotten desperate." His last words a growl as his eyes flicked to the girl in his arms.

Roman looked down, his arms more....slack as they fell more into a hug from behind. His eyes softened. "You have no idea..." The girl met his eyes with the same fondness.

Red. No not Jason's helmet. The color he saw. Pure rage rippled through him as he pulled the trigger. Not once. Not twice. Over and over and over again, unloading a clip that not only undoubtedly killed Roman ten times over, but regrettably, knocking both out of the large window that laid behind them. As fast as the rage was there it disappeared, leaving only panic as Jason launched out of the window without a thought other than, "God- no!"

Was it?

Worth it? That's what she was thinking. Y/n. As the smirk crept to her face, placing one last kiss on her now corpse kidnapper and lover, she pushed him further, a subtle pay back for his words and treatment to her for the last months she had spent with him. Her arms wide open as he hit the ground first. Her eyes slowly closing, the wind whipping by.

"Worth it."

___________

She was an odd one. The Batfamily deemed her actually crazy. Jason never listened. Why would he? She had such a good heart. She supported him in his vigilante ways. She had even said she might join him. She understood what it took to get what you want. Maybe that's why he wasn't so pissed at her. Because he finally understood as he watched her naked sleeping form on their bed. Right where it belonged. She wanted all of this. He should have seen it. The very first smile that almost hid the darkness within. Twisted, yet so sweet. Like cyanide in candy. He knew from the beginning she wasn't a normal girl.

But then again, he wasn't a normal guy.

But there was still punishment to be dealt.

Y/n awoke with a harsh yank to her ankle, her ass suddenly on the edge of the bed. Forcibly sat up, her eyes level with the stomach of the man she had been missing. Her eyes met the storm that raged through Jason's eyes and he grabbed her chin to look at him. Even out of her peripheral vision she could see he was fully nude, her bottom lip finding a place in between her teeth as a smile took over. "Hey Jay." She cooed.

He was ashamed at how eager his cock was the moment his name left her mouth. His eyes glared daggers at her as his grip tightened. "Don't act like that." She opened her mouth, spewing bullshit like always. But he wouldn't let her. Not this time. "Like you're this innocent sweet heart. No. You're not that are you? You haven't been for a long time, if ever."

She let out a mock offended gasp. "Jay....he did bad things, that has to count for something. He made me do so many bad things to him." She pouted, her puppy dog eyes that would normally get him having no effect- at least not the kind she was hoping for.

His palm slipped from her chin to her neck, lifting her slightly with the force as he bent at the waist. "Baby, I got all the videos. The only forcing I saw was him trying to fit his cock into your tight pussy. But you still begged him for it. Because you wanted it."

He was shocked to see her eyes hood at the memory, her lust filled look deepening. His stomach turning from it. "It did feel pretty good to be stretched out again. It had been so long." Fire burned through him as he practically threw her on the ground to her knees. He didn't let her settle before he had her by the hair, forcing her mouth to open as he shoved his fully ready to go dick down her throat. The action making her gag and fling her hands to his thighs. He caught her hands and held them with one hand while the other dragged her head back and further on his length.

"How fucking dare you?" He spat with venom. "Do you know how fucking worried I was? Huh? Just to find out you're just being a whore----- to that fucking low life!?" Y/n couldn't answer, her throat being abused by his unpleasantly harsh thrust that was gonna make it hard to talk later. Her breathing was already none existent.

"So many fucking weeks." He groaned out, his eyes finally looking down. Her eyes already meeting his stormy blue ones, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her mouth stretched painfully full. But she never made a move to leave. No. She was taking this punishment like a champ. "So many months of me searching for you. Then I see uggh--" Her tongue ran along the under part of his shaft, clearly he wasn't deep enough. So he pushed further. Her breathing became hard with each thrust. "Then he sends those fucking videos. You begged for his cum princess. You fuckin' cried for it. You wanted it all. Inside you. On you. You wanted to taste it mixed with yours. Well don't worry doll." Her lips moved, unable to smile properly around him, her heart swelling. She missed him.

His grip tightened as he leaned down slightly, his cock going impossibly further down, her lips touching the base, breathing no longer an option as he smirked down. "You'll finally get daddy's cum, the cum you really needed. And maybe if you're good, I'll let you cum too, so you can suck it off me again." And with that, he stood up straight, let her catch some of her breath, then fucked her mouth until he felt that much needed relief spill down her throat. Coating the back in white liquid with a loud throaty groan.

He released her head which she immediately swung back, hand to her chest as she greedily gulped down air. But not for a moment longer than needed. She was back in front of him stroking him, her eyes leaking tears as her legs became soaked with the flood that was her arousal. "Thank you sir." She smiled.

Why was he so pissed off at her smile? Because. It was the same smile- the same mouth Roman had used. He needed to make her his all over again. She was his. He picked her up by her arm and tossed her to the bed. "You're not done yet." He gruffed out as he pushed her chest to the bed and pulled her ass up. "How many times?" He asked running his two fingers along her slit collecting all the juices that poured out.

She poked her head around. "I'm....not sure?"

He scoffed. "You let him cum so much in you, you don't even remember?" Her head nodded slowly. He whistled lowly. "Well. I cause that just means we have a long night don't we?"

The excitement- genuine excitement that she radiated was almost enough to make him no longer pissed off. Almost. "But remember." He leaned forward, his hands going to her hips as he massaged them. Placing gentle kisses down her spine and along her shoulder. The more than welcomed touch considering the past few months spent with pure hate fucking and all around rough sex. "You still get punishment for being such a cock whore." Too soon.

His soft touches left almost immediately followed by harsh smacks to the ass. Before she knew it her ass was almost the same red as his helmet, only occasionally palming it to slightly sooth the pain. But this wasn't a pleasant punishment ment to make you more turned on. No. It was harsh and real. She knew she did wrong. She knew she needed to be punished. But boy did it fucking hurt. By the time he was done, she was a sobbing mess. Her ass would be sore for sure. But it was all worth it as the tip of his cock pushed past her puffy folds into her tight heat. A long vulgar moan was realized from both parties as he sat for a moment, relishing in the feeling he missed so much.

His hands gripped her tightly as he pumped every last inch of himself he could. The movement so painfully slow but so necessary. They needed each other. She didn't realize how hard it was being without him. But she was so fuckin' happy when he came to her. She held out and here they were. One again. She loved him, and he loved her. It was fucked up. But- they did.

His veins dragged deliciously inside her tight walls, the tip of his dick hitting that one spot just right. "I- ohhh- missed you Jay-" She moaned out softly.

Jason's pace was slow and gentle, just enjoying the feeling of being inside her. Fuck did he miss her too. "You better have." But it wasn't anymore. The speed picked up along with the force and before she knew it, she was a sobbing blubbering mess. Her only thought- Jason's cock ruining her. "Now. I'm going to ask a question." He reached down and wrapped a hand around her throat, bringing her back up to his chest. The angle made her cry out. "And you better answer the right way." His speed picked up as he guided her back into his thrusts. Each word emphasized with a harsh thrust. "Who do you belong to?"

It was a simple question. One they both knew. One she should have never made him question. One that from day one, they both knew the answer. There was never an option. There would never be an option.

"You." She breathed out, her stomach making a familiar feeling. Her walls clenching and unclenching with every harsh thrust of Jason's ruthless hips.

His grip tightened before flipping her over to her back, her legs immediately being upped to his shoulders, the new position making her scream out in pure pleasure. "Not good enough, doll." He growled, his lips latching onto her neck and shoulder. Marking the answer down...

She gripped the bedsheets as her back arched into him. "I'm yours Jason! Only yours I fuckin' swear it!" And with that, Jason smiled. His hand reached between to rub her clit and a matching pace.

"Good girl. You're mine." He leans down to her ear, pecking behind it. "and I'm yours." One final kiss to her lips and she melted. Her walls squeezed and her eyes rolled back. Her orgasm washed over her like no other as her legs threatened to capture and never let go of Jason. His high soon followed and he let himself go freely in her. Every last drop would stay there. Because she was his. And he was hers.

________

"We're not done yet princess."

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