#i knew in my gut from the moment i learned of him that i hated him and somehow i was blocked from this knowledge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hhnguyen · 1 year

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little flower

I have become an actual fanatic ever since this movie came out and brought forth all of my old love for the Avatar world. I’ve seen this movie 5 times and Jake Sully as a dad refuses to leave my brain :’)

♢ Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Oldest Daughter!Reader (PLATONIC ya nasties)

♢ Word count: 1.8k

♢ Genre: Family fluff and feels, protective older sister reader

⌲ Description: You are a protective older sister that will always come to the defense of your siblings, even against your dad. And Jake couldn’t even be mad about it.

M A S T E R L I S T

As parents, there was no such thing as having a favorite child.

Humans knew it.

Na’vi knew it.

Jake knew it too.

But that didn’t stop the fact that he did have moments of favoring you over his other children.

How couldn’t he?

You. His first child was born into his new world. His first sign of a fresh, beautiful start. His firstborn. His first little flower.

Eywa must have thought him worthy enough to bless him with a child that was a scarily accurate mix of both him and Neytiri, although there were moments where Jake swore Tommy’s face had shone through. Like how your eyes would shine up at the prospect of learning something new, something hidden. The inner science nerd in you wanting to find out more.

You were also a fighter. One of the more anticipated young warriors of the Omatikaya clan - whispers of the elders following you with praises of being a worthy daughter of Toruk Makto.

And Jaked hated that word. ‘Worthy.’

None of his children had to be worth anything to be considered his own. They were a result of his and Neytiri’s love, and that was all that mattered to them.

Yet being Toruk Makto had put a heavy burden upon his eldest children without him having a say in it. You made sure to take most of the responsibility of being the oldest, yet a lot also fell to Neteyam being the oldest son. Jake tried his damn best to be a fair dad. An equal dad. But when he had been gifted kids such as Lo’ak, Jake was certain it was Eywa’s way to even the odds of calmness and serenity in their growing family.

You and Neteyam had been the dream babies. Calm and demure, who were easy to handle and feed. Kiri had been a little bit fussier when joining the family, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

But Lo’ak?

Damn, he had been the true nightmare for all parents. He came screaming into the world and was now walking through it with the word ‘troublemaker’ ingrained in his DNA.

And Jake wouldn’t change it for the world.

Although you, his oldest baby girl at now sixteen years old, would always have a special place in his heart no matter how many muttered scoldings he had with himself of not having favorites. You were starting to mature a bit too quickly to his liking, shedding away the last layers of your baby fat and awkward limbs, growing into the beginnings of a beautiful, young Na’vi woman.

You reminded him of Neytiri, just a few years younger and more outspoken, mixed with his crude earth humor and language.

Yeah. His mate had not been happy with that development.

Though he had managed to blame Norm and Max the first time you had accidentally let an f-bomb slip at the age of nine.

And then there were times like now, where his anger was boiling over and coiling together with the fearful worry in his gut after seeing his two idiotic sons on the ground of the raid, and not in the sky, where they were supposed to be.

‘Dad, it was my fault. I should have been more alert of their positions.’

They all knew it wasn’t your fault. But that was what you did. Take the blame with your shoulders high, and face unchanging.

‘Y/N, you-’ your name came out in a slightly agitated growl from Jake, but the relentless gaze in your eyes stopped him from taking it further.

“Just go get patched up - you stay,” the last part had been directed at his youngest son, as Lo’ak swallowed nervously. Although Jake could see you hovering behind the others before deciding to ignore his orders and remain only a few feet away.

Fearless, he thought to himself annoyed, just like your mother. That was the difference between you and your younger brother. Where Lo’ak was a troublemaker and reckless out of sheer curiosity and innocent spontaneous decisions, his stubbornness was not intended. Your stubbornness was the opposite, all willful and directed at him with a purpose that tired him out endlessly.

As he finished up scolding and grounding the stupidity incarnate that was his son, Jake didn’t miss as you walked up to him and shared some low whispers enough to make the frown on Lo’ak ease up slightly, tail giving away his better mood as he went on to tend to the ikrans.

You caught up to your dad easily enough, not saying a word and only accompanying him towards the tent of your grandmother despite the simmering anger still apparent in him.

Your younger brothers didn’t fear him, rather their respect for him was so immensely high that it automatically made them want to earn his approval in every single way, including following his orders like perfect soldiers. Or at least Neteyam did. Lo’ak, although holding that same respect was more prone to follow his own spontaneous choices.

There was a difference between you and them.

You respected your father. Of course, you did. But you also refused to become one of his soldiers because you knew better. You were not afraid to speak up against the mighty voice of Toruk Makto when you could see the faults in his choices, an ability that your mother had as well. That included many moments of unfair scoldings towards your brothers.

But he hadn’t always been this way. Your dad was carefree before the sky people came back to Pandora and declared war on your people. He had been affectionate, patient, and funny, even. You had been old enough to understand that by the return of the humans, Jake Sully had been forced to come back into his past military persona, showcasing a side that none of his children had ever been exposed to before - but were forced to adapt to with war right at their feet.

“Dad-”

“I am sick and tired of you taking the blame every time your siblings do something out of their own making!” His outburst was full of anger and frustration, and although his volume wasn’t loud, they were spat with a harshness that would usually send most people cowering away from the Olo'eyktan.

You, however, stood firm in your place. Chin raised and spine straight, waiting for the harsh breaths of your father to subside before putting in your own two cents.

“As the oldest sibling we expect you to be responsible in your choices, and as a good role model that includes knowing who’s at fault and taking the right responsibility.”

His stare was basically penetrating you. The yellow, intense eyes which were smaller than that of true Na’vi’s turned more intimidating when narrowed.

He was waiting, you realized. For you to soak in his words.

“Can I talk now?” You finally spoke, careful yet not meek.

At the incline of his head, you let your own drop slightly before letting out a sigh.

“I am really sorry, dad, ‘Teyam didn’t do anything wrong, he was just trying to stop him. And Lo’ak just wanted to make you proud, even though it was a stupid way of doing it,” you knew the way to soften his heart as his shoulders got less tense by your words. “I know you want them to take responsibility, but as you said; I’m their older sister. Is it that terrible for me to stand for them? If I can’t protect them from the sky demons directly, the least I can do is shield them a bit when they choose to do stupid things.”

Jake’s heart was constricting, memories of a past life flashing before his eyes followed by his feelings of regret and the old grief wanting to claw its way back out.

It was as if Tommy was speaking directly to him. His brother had always been the more caring sibling when they were young. Acting as the older one, despite being twins. Taking the fall for Jake’s younger self's mistakes and being the meditator despite his own harsh words of not needing help being spat in return as a show of gratitude.

The mighty Toruk Makto didn’t know if he was being punished for his past sins, or rewarded by basically getting Tommy’s personality reincarnated in you.

The anger melted away in seconds as Jake found himself simply staring at his oldest baby girl. You had a gift for softening him up in seconds, different from Tuk’s childish innocence and Kiri’s witty comebacks.

“Come here.”

Without hesitation, you stepped into his open arms and sank into his warm embrace as your dad kissed the top of your head affectionately.

“I take it you're not mad anymore?” You mumbled with a slight smile, as you felt him huff.

“Oh, I am still frustrated, flower. But you made a really good case for yourself, so how can I?”

You realized how long it’s been since your dad had actually hugged you like this. All warm, gentle affection. The last year has been hell on earth for your family, snuffing out most of the moments when the family used to cuddle together at night with laughter and sparkling eyes as your parents told stories of their past before Pandora was ruined by the sky people.

As the oldest, you had easily handed over most of the affectionate moments for Tuk to have, being only a child and needing that contact. You had convinced yourself that you were now old enough to not rely on the hugs and kisses of your parents to get through a harsh day.

You had clearly underestimated the hugs of your dad, as you gripped him tighter around the waist and nuzzled your face closer against his chest - not wanting to let go and return to the rest of the family just yet.

Jake noticed this easily. “You okay there, flower?” he murmured softly, not letting go.

“Yeah…” was your muffled reply. “Just…missed this, I guess.” Although honest, the tips of your ears turned slightly red in embarrassment.

“I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve given my oldest baby some cuddles, huh?”

“Daad,” you couldn’t help but whine, glancing up to see his familiar mischievous smirk from when he used to tease you all the time. “I’m way too old for that.”

His narrowed in a mock glare as you let out a startled squeak as his fingers suddenly tickled your sides as you tried to jump away, but he was quicker in holding you back and continuing his attack, prompting peals of laughter to fall from your lips.

The tickle attack didn’t last long fortunately before he was stepping back with a fond smile and looked you over with his larger hands cupping your face and pressing a soft kiss against your forehead.

“I love you, flower.”

“I love you too, dad.”

Jake didn’t have a favorite child.

But sometimes he couldn’t help but cherish you a little more when it was needed.

Can Jake be my dad pls.

#avatar the way of water #avatar #dad jake sully #jake sully imagine #sully family #sully family x reader #jake sully x reader #avatar imagine #jake sully is a good dad I will not hear anything else #sully reader

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freelancearsonist · 3 months

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Whole

Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Rated MA for the most long-winded poetic smut i've ever written jfc 🤦‍♀️ slow burn fluff with a couple sprinkles of angst for flavor, reader uses fem pronouns and is described as having female parts, it's dirty y'all but at least they use protection

7,470 Words

A/N: you all know my mo by now i disappear for a year and then come back and lay down some god damned PORN. this fic is no exception to the rule. @shakespeareanwannabe requested this back in july and she literally just asked for a cute moment between steve and dustin, sorry you got 6k words more than you bargained for 😂 but also thank you for betaing and the constant validation you're the best ily 🖤

Steve’s not sure how it even worked.

He can still remember the look on Robin’s face when you agreed, how she was speechless for almost ten minutes because she couldn’t process what had just happened.

Steve’s reaction was about the same as hers, in all honesty. He’s gotten so used to striking out that asking people out has become something of a game to him. He knows he’ll get a no, and he knows Robin will laugh her ass off at him. But what can he say? He likes putting a smile on his best friend’s face.

Needless to say, you’ve shaken him. In the best possible way. Because your answer was three letters instead of two.

And now, he's a little bit in over his head.

Or, to be more accurate, a lot in over his head.

It seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone on a date, even though it’s only been a few months at most. He feels lost, like he’s completely unlearned everything he ever knew about girls.

He hates it, despises it with every fiber of his own being, but he also knows it’s true; he needs advice. And although he’ll never admit it to the little shithead’s face, there’s no one better he can think of going to than his very own protege. Who better to remind him of his own prowess than the person who learned everything they know from him?

One look at Dustin’s smug little face and Steve almost regrets it. Almost.

“Just can’t stay away, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolls his eyes and gives the younger boy a little shove, camouflaging it with an affectionate pat on the back. “This is strictly business, Henderson.”

“Oh, is it now?” The younger boy’s voice takes on a smug tone as he folds his fingers together and leans back in his chair. “Well then, why don’t you have a seat? Step into my office.”

Steve rolls his eyes and slides into the booth, shooting a smile and a “thank you” to the kind waitress who delivers two milkshakes to their table.

Dustin takes his time and makes a meal of unwrapping his straw, feeding off of Steve’s clear impatience Steve’s fingers tap against the table, reminding himself that patience is necessary when you come to someone for a favor. It’s just that it’s Dustin, and Dustin knows exactly how to get under the older boy’s skin in the most annoying-yet-oddly-endearing fashion.

“So…” Dustin finally says after a lengthy sip of strawberry milkshake. “What brings you so humbly to me?”

“I’ve got a date.”

And Dustin, the little bastard–he laughs. A deep, rumbling belly laugh, so pure and unfiltered that the three other occupied tables in the diner pause their conversations to get a look at the boy clutching his sides.

Steve’s a little embarrassed by the attention, but even more embarrassed that Dustin’s reaction is so genuine. The fact that the idea of him having a date is so laughable is a bit of a punch to the gut. It hasn’t really been that long, has it?

When Dustin’s laughter finally dies down he realizes Steve’s face is completely serious, and it makes him giggle even more.

“Wait, you’re actually serious? Who on earth did you manage to pull?”

Steve’s nearly bashful as he says your name, and even more bashful when Dustin’s jaw visibly drops.

“No fucking way. I’d believe anyone else, but her? She’s like… hotter than Phoebe Cates. There’s no way you wouldn’t strike out with her.”

Steve’s immediately on the defensive. Is it really so hard to believe that he, former king of Hawkins High, could pull the most gorgeous girl in town?

But that’s just it. There’s really no one like you, not in his eyes. He’s admired you since freshman year and never once even tried with you because he knew he wasn’t worthy. You were always in the background–a beautiful, kind, smart, funny girl just out of his reach. Part of the reason he even asked you out was because he was so sure he would strike out. In the end, losing his confidence was exactly what he needed to pull the girl of his dreams.

And that’s why there’s so much riding on this. You’ve always been his biggest “what if”, the girl he wonders about when thinking that maybe not trying has been holding him back. And apparently, it has.

“Look, I don’t even know how it happened, okay? But she said yes, and… and I really don’t want to blow it.”

“Well duh. You’ll have to leave town if you blow it with her, you know that, right? If she doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else in this town ever will again.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of!” Steve groans, slouching down so far in the booth that Dustin can just barely see his poor, overwhelmed face.

“Steve, listen…” Dustin’s voice takes on an almost fatherly quality, an omniscient tone that gives off the illusion of great hidden knowledge. He gets like this sometimes, and Steve’s not always sure that it is just an illusion. “Don’t let this go to your head, but you’re, like, one of the coolest guys I know. If she doesn’t like you… that’s her problem, not yours. Okay?”

Steve straightens in his seat, a little shocked to hear such kind words from a friend that he’s used to being mercilessly teased by.

“No, no, no, it’s going to your head. I take it all back. Forget I said anything.” Dustin’s hearty giggle makes Steve smile as he sets a wad of bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

“You’re not so bad Henderson, you know that?” He gives the younger boy’s full head of curls an affectionate ruffle. “Thanks, kid. I’ll radio later.”

Not that Steve didn’t have total faith in his young protege, but it’s still a relief that the pep talk turned out to be exactly what he needed to hear. Dustin’s right, after all. Steve’s worked hard to become the man he’s always wanted to be. He may not be dripping charisma or sex appeal the way he used to, but he’s much more comfortable in his own skin. That’s what counts, right?

And you really are his dream girl. The opportunity to take you out tonight, even if it ends up being your first and only date together, is an honor. He’s much less focused now on all the ways he could screw up, hyper-fixated on putting the effort in to make this the best night of your life.

That effort comes out in the carefully selected suit jacket he dons over his white button-up, the extra spritz of cologne, the careful touch-up shave to vanquish his five o’clock shadow, the extra ten minutes using the perfect amount of product in his hair so that it stays in place yet is still soft to the touch.

By the time he gets to Enzo’s (half an hour early, mind), he’s practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation. He’s never been much of an overthinker, but he sure is tonight. Is this place too much for the first date? Would you rather do something lowkey, like catch a movie or go for a walk in the park? He has to remind himself a couple of times that you agreed to this, that you wouldn’t have said yes if you weren’t interested in the arrangement.

To say he’s prepared for this is putting it lightly. He’s run through every possible scenario in his mind, gone over conversation starters and questions he wants to ask you over and over again until he knows exactly how he wants to phrase each thing.

And still, nothing could prepare him for when you walk through the door.

He has to physically restrain his jaw from dropping because in the moment he sees you, every well-planned thought and all etiquette is flushed down the proverbial pipes. You’re nothing short of breathtaking in a dress that hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to have him imagining what else there might be to see. Your hair is pinned back out of your face, eyes framed by just the slightest bit of makeup to make the color of your irises pop. He swears he’s never seen a shade quite like them. It’s like you move in slow motion as you approach him–he sees the entrance of the smoking hot love interest in every romantic comedy, complete with smoke and fireworks, as you move towards the table.

And then some sense of decorum returns to his addled brain, and he quickly shoots up so he can pull out your chair for you like a proper gentleman. He catches just the slightest whiff of your perfume, and he’s a goner. He’s ready to sign his life away to you, to yank his own heart out of his chest to offer to your careful hands.

He has to give his head a shake to compose himself before he goes any further off the deep end. No one’s ever thoroughly shaken him the way you have, and it’s been a matter of thirty seconds. It’s almost intimidating, the effect you have on him.

“You look… incredible,” he fumbles as he takes his seat across from you. “I mean, you always do, but… wow.”

The shy giggle you emit tugs at a heartstring he didn’t even know he had.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a genuine smile. “You clean up very well yourself.”

“I do like to put in some effort every once in a while.” He flashes the most charming smile he can muster, and just like that he’s back. His resolve to impress you is reinforced tenfold. You’ve shaken him, and it’s such an unfamiliar feeling that he’s practically bumbling. He wants to shake you just as badly.

The food’s delicious, and the conversation’s even better. He has a track record for taking out a more–for lack of a better term–bimbo-y type, and that’s definitely not you. You’re smart, you’re witty, but you don’t make him feel like an idiot. He’s so taken with you that he doesn’t even notice that three hours have passed until he looks around the room and notices that every table is now empty and bussed.

The waiter delivers the check, and Steve notices you gnawing on your lip.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, trying not to be too prying.

“I don’t want this to be over yet.”

Steve smiles. He’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. He’s never been so sure of anything, and that surprises him. He’s used to dates who are easy to read and even easier to take home, and those aren’t the impressions you’ve been giving him. To know that you’re feeling exactly what he’s feeling is a huge confidence boost.

“I don’t either.”

Your hand is so small compared to his. That’s all he can think about as he strolls next to you, his fingers intertwined with yours. He’s always considered hand-holding to be child’s play, it’s never excited him before the way it does in this moment with you.

It’s pitch black in the park and he can hear the overlapping chirping of summer cicadas and grasshoppers, the perfect background noise now that the conversation has died down. It’s less about getting to know each other at this point and more just basking in each other’s presence, prolonging the inevitable because neither one of you can bear to call it a night when it’s been such a good few hours.

You’re shocked, to say the very least. Steve certainly has a reputation, and it’s not for being a romantic. Yet everything tonight has flown in the face of all the rumors you’ve been hearing since junior high. You figured he’d be a fun fling, and probably only one night at that–you’d made your peace with the idea. To find that he’s kind, considerate, funny, and can match your intellect and quick wit… it’s a very pleasant surprise. And that’s what has you out well past a decent hour, giddy over simply holding his hand like you’re a damned school girl all over again.

“I should probably let you go home,” Steve sighs wistfully. He hates to be the one to bring it up, but you’re on your fifth lap around the park and about to circle back to where your car is parked so now seems the best time.

You’re chewing your lip again, a thoughtful habit that makes his heart pound just a little bit harder.

Here’s the thing: you’re really not the bold type. You act confident, sure, but in practice it’s a lot more difficult for you. So no one’s more surprised than you are when you say, “You could come home with me. If you want.”

Steve’s definitely shocked, too. Less shocked at your proposition and more at the fact that he’s tempted to decline. Because no matter how much he’s been running through the back of his mind what you might look like under that gorgeous dress, he doesn’t want this to end there. For the first time in his life, he wants to find more meaning than sex out of a relationship. He doesn’t want to take you home and never see you again. He wants to take you out again, and again, and again, and again after that. He sees a future, for once, that doesn’t look dim and hopeless. That fact alone scares the shit out of him.

He realizes he’s waited way too long to reply and fumbles for an answer. “Of course I want to. I’d be an idiot not to. But…”

You chew that cursed bottom lip of yours again, and Steve has to focus on the obvious cue you’re giving him rather than the fact that he wants to be the next set of teeth around that lip.

He stops in his tracks, gently pulling on your hand to face him so he can take your other hand in his free one. “It’s not a bad but. I mean, I’m going to go home kicking myself for saying no because I really honestly do want to… well, y’know. But… I want to do this right with you. I want to take you out again. I want to get to know you and see where this goes. I can’t… I don’t want this to end tonight.”

He’s eternally grateful for how dark it is as he feels a flush consume his face. He can’t remember a time he’s been so honest and open, especially on a first date; but the look on your face tells him he’s done something right.

“Okay,” you tell him, squeezing his hands in yours. “You… honestly have no clue how nice it is to hear that.”

“Of course,” he continues, “if you just want me for my body, no hard feelings.”

You laugh at that, genuinely laugh, and Steve thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

“No,” you reassure him. “No, I… I wanna see where this goes, too.”

You’re stopped only a few paces from your car, and Steve knows with a twist of his gut that this is the end of the night. It makes his gut turn with disappointment, but also with anticipation of when he’ll see you next. Already, his mind is flooding with ideas of where he can take you and what you’ll do together.

You drop one of his hands so you can walk but keep a tight grip on the other until you get to your driver’s side door, hesitating outside because you’re still not ready for this to be over. It takes every ounce of restraint he has not to kiss you, unsure of if that would be moving too fast.

Thankfully, you make the call yourself. Leaning up on your toes, hands against his chest for balance, you press your lips against his and he has to summon every mite of strength not to moan. No one’s ever tasted so sweet, molded against him so perfectly. His hands drift from your shoulders down your arms, coming to rest on your waist as he pulls you just a little bit closer. It’s a fight of will not to overstep, to break off the kiss before it can become too heated. His mind is spinning by the time you break away. He’s aching for more, and he hopes you are too.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

Your sweet voice replays in his mind all night, long after you’ve gotten into your car and driven away, long after he’s returned to his own vehicle and pulled the radio out from under the driver’s seat to check in with Dustin, long after he arrives home and soaks in a cold shower for longer than he probably should. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get your voice out of his head, and he couldn’t be any less upset about it.

He practically counts down the minutes until he sees you again. This time, he has a little less restraint. He greets you with a kiss–a sweet peck and a hand on your waist that leaves you aching for even more.

It’s a movie this time, a chance to enjoy each other’s company on a night you’re both too tired from working to engage in heavy conversation and getting to know each other further.

It starts with sharing popcorn, then holding hands, then somewhere along the way the film is completely forgotten in favor of your lips meeting his. His breath grows heavy as his hands hold your face, committing you to memory while resisting the urge to explore further. Your hands, meanwhile, are firmly on his thighs, gripping tightly to keep yourself steady as you do everything you can to keep yourself from crawling into his lap.

He whispers your name, and your grip on him tightens.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, then gives up on the futile attempt at finishing his sentence so that he can pull you even deeper into the kiss as his tongue sweeps across your bottom lip.

It takes everything in him not to moan when your lips eagerly part to accept him.

Needless to say, once the credits start rolling you’re both more than a little hot under the collar.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Steve suggests as he woefully unwinds himself from you. Declining doesn’t even flicker through your mind as a possibility.

It’s not Enzo’s this time, but it doesn’t have to be. He could set a soggy peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of you at this point and you’d still thank him for it. This time around, you’re not really as interested in the cuisine as you are just simply getting through this meal to what’s next. Because what’s next is all you’ve been thinking about since you walked through the doors the night of that very first date and saw Steve Harrington wearing a blazer for you. It’s a level of effort he’s definitely not known for–in fact, he’s built a reputation for putting in so little effort that it nearly made your jaw drop to see him trying. And it certainly made your heart skip a beat.

But then again, the Steve before you carelessly wolfing down his bacon cheeseburger seems very different from the Steve you knew in high school, even if you didn’t know that iteration as intimately as this one. That one was cool, collected, snarky and pompous and maddeningly desirable.

This Steve, your Steve, is nearly an exact foil. Much less cocky, a little less confident but more self-assured in the ways that actually hold meaning, less worried about what the people around him are observing of him than what you’re observing of him. He seems happier, more carefree, more eager to please others than simply himself. He’s grown so much in such a short amount of time, and you feel proud just for having the honor to witness it. Significantly more proud to be on the receiving end of his affections now that they hold the kind of value you’ve always wished they would.

He looks up and notices you staring at him while lost in thought, a small smile spreading across his lips as your eyes quickly dart away.

“What’s on your mind?” He questions as he licks a stray bit of ketchup from his thumb.

“Just… happy I’m here. With you.” It brings heat to your cheeks to admit it, but you don’t want him to go unappreciated in this moment.

It’s the right thing to say, because his smile grows even wider. “I’m happy too,” he admits. “I… I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Could never work up the courage, I guess.”

“Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was intimidated by me?” You say it with a mock gasp, but your shock is more genuine than you give off. Never in a million years would you have thought that he, the man who could have whoever he wanted, would be worried over you saying no to him. It’s almost comical, especially considering the way you practically threw yourself at him on your first date. Of course then, you had no clue how much he’d developed as a person. You’re almost ashamed of your behavior now, as if you might’ve inadvertently been taking advantage of the new and improved Steve who isn’t just into you for a hookup.

He shrugs, nearly bashful at your teasing. “Never figured I was good enough for you. So I didn’t bother to try.”

You’re genuinely curious now, leaning in a little closer and brushing your fingers against his hand resting atop the diner counter. “What made you change your mind?”

“Honestly? I was so sure you’d say no that I asked just to give Robin a chuckle. She loves watching me get shot down.”

That makes you frown, and he’s quick to backtrack. “I wanted to! I just… I’ve had a bad track record lately. And you’re… you’re you. You’re the last person I should be worthy of.”

His eyes are quick to avert from your gaze, bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he contemplates whether he’s said too much.

“Steve…” you properly grab his hand now in the hopes that it’ll bring his eyes back to you, and it works. “You’re the only person I’ve deemed worthy in a long time, honestly.”

Steve Harrington is scaldingly warm. It’s one of many sensations forcing your mind into overdrive as he lays you delicately across the backseat of his beemer, one hand cushioning the back of your head while simultaneously deepening the already heated kiss and the other balancing his weight to lean over you in the cramped space without completely crushing you.

Your fingers tangle themselves into his soft brown locks, tugging ever-so-slightly as his tongue slips between your parted lips. He’s an eager explorer and you’re more than happy to let him take the lead, to show you all the skill you’ve heard so many whispers about.

You let out an involuntary moan as he wedges himself even closer to you, his body heat soaking through all the layers of clothing between the two of you and warming you all the way to your very bones.

You’re practically aching, ready to beg, and he knows it the second you wrap your legs around his waist in an attempt to get him even closer. If there’s one thing Steve Harrington’s good at, it’s assessing your needs. He pulls away just the slightest bit to adjust his position so he can get closer, wedging a knee between your legs to press right against your core, and it makes you jolt back against the car door at the same time his head hits the roof just a bit too hard.

You both pause for a moment, the reality of your situation hitting you simultaneously, and then you’re laughing. It’s light and edged with unresolved want, but it’s enough to fracture the tension of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. This isn’t how I want to do this.”

“No?”

“No. You deserve way better than this old beater,” he chuckles, then leans down to kiss you. This kiss is lighter, no longer edged with tension and lust. He kisses you just to kiss you–there’s no end goal to it this time.

“What could be better than a BMW?” You tease lightly, trying to reassure him that you’re less disappointed than you really feel.

“You know. Something romantic. A proper bed, rose petals, maybe a few candles…”

“I don’t need all that,” you try to tell him.

“I think I do,” he admits. And that’s enough to pull you back, to remind you that you need to be patient and grateful that he values you so much as to want to do this whole thing properly. That his affection is something to be cherished, not taken for granted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to be pushy.”

“Please don’t apologize.” He hesitates to untangle himself from you, even though he knows he needs to. “I want this just as bad. I just… I need it to be right.”

“As long as I have you, it’ll be right,” you reassure. “I hope you know that.”

He presses his lips to yours again, a slow and passionate kiss that he hopes communicates every bit of adoration he feels for you in this moment.

“It’ll be perfect. I swear,” he vows. You’ve never believed anything more whole-heartedly than you do this promise.

~~~

“Wait, you’re telling me that you literally had her under you and you stopped?” Robin’s halfway through chewing a mouthful of popcorn and the absolute carnage inside her agape mouth makes Steve give her a light shove.

“It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full, y’know.”

“It’s not polite to blue-ball either!” She shoots back in utter disbelief.

“How do you think I felt? I was this close,” he holds his thumb and index finger barely millimeters apart, “to sealing the deal.”

She just shakes her head. “You, Steve Harrington, are a genuine, bonafide idiot.”

She’s not telling him anything he doesn’t know. It’s been three days since the aborted fling in the backseat of his car, and he’s barely thought of anything else. Especially since you’ve been away from home both of the past nights when he’s called. He’s starting to worry you’ve gotten the wrong impression, that he’s not interested or that he’s toying with you. It’s the exact opposite. He wants nothing more than to know you in the most intimate way he can know you. But he needs it to be flawless. He needs it to be well thought-out and precisely planned, the most romantic event in the history of copulation. He won’t settle for anything less, not with you. You deserve perfection, and he won’t give you anything less.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he tries to explain. “I want to more than anything. But if you’re gonna go to town on a goddess, you need to do some worshiping, y’know? I don’t feel like I’ve done enough.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear this admission. You weren’t sure what to expect–worried that maybe visiting him at work was an overstep–but hearing him call you a goddess certainly wasn’t on your radar.

“You’ve done more than enough, Steve.”

The sound of your voice makes Steve jump and whirl around, oblivious to Robin’s sly smirk and mumbled excuse of needing to attend to something in the back room.

“H-hey!” He squeaks, then clears his throat in an attempt to get his tone back to its normal octave. “What… what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to pick up a tape,” you tease. “But mostly I came to see you.”

“Me?” He takes a moment to ground himself, loosening his too-tight grip on the counter. “I mean… I tried to call you last night. And the night before?”

Your brow furrows. “Really? I didn’t get your message.”

Because he didn’t leave one. He clears his throat and says, “I just figured you were busy.”

“Oh, well, I volunteer at the animal shelter on Wednesdays, and last night was my friend’s 21st birthday. I’m sorry I missed you, though.”

He can tell that you’re really remorseful, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest a little bit. He plays it off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, it’s fine, it’s… are you free tonight?”

You giggle at the abrupt redirect, but he’s played directly into your hand.

“Yeah, actually. I was hoping maybe you could help me pick out something for us to watch tonight? If you’re free too, that is.”

His dark eyes blink slowly, wondering if you’re aware of the implication behind your completely innocent words. You. Him. A movie. Alone. It’s enough to make his head spin.

“I’ve never been freer.”

Conveniently, you’ve come in close enough to the end of his shift that by the time you’re done combing through Family Video’s vast selection for the perfect film to use as background noise, Steve’s ready to clock out. And since you walked over after finishing your own shift at the local dollar store up the street, it works out perfectly that he can give you a ride straight to his place.

You only glance in the backseat once, but it’s enough to get your mind churning. Remembering the feeling of him, of what could’ve been. Anticipating what will be.

“Parents home?” You ask as he pulls into his driveway and parks, trying to sound casual and utterly failing.

“Nope,” he answers easily. “Took a detour to Cabo on their way home from Hawaii.”

“Sounds glamorous. You opted out?”

“I’d rather be here in Hawkins with you than on a beach alone anyday.”

He must know the effect his words have on you. Surely he can hear the way your heart picks up pace as he looks at you with those dark, affectionate eyes.

“So… this is home.” He waves a hand around the entrance hall like it’s a shabby nightmare, not the grandest house you’ve ever been in.

“I’m starting to understand why they used to call you King Steve.”

He’s almost embarrassed at the mention of that old high school nickname. “Trust me, this isn’t why.”

“Well, a palace does befit you,” you tell him with a smirk.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me blush.” The wink he shoots you makes your gut erupt with butterflies, a sensation that would normally make you a little uncomfortable. With Steve, you’d take the butterflies all day long.

He gives you a cursory and oversimplified tour of the ground floor before leading you upstairs, and suddenly he’s sheepish. It’s been a few moons since he shared his room with a girl, so the nerves are justified. But that’s too simple an explanation. You’re not a girl. You’re his dream, his muse, his–to re-quote himself–goddess. No one he’s ever cared about more has stood where you’re standing, and it terrifies him.

He hides it well, though, busying himself with making a comfortable nest for you in his bed before setting up the television set on the dresser against the far wall. If ever there was a time to regain his confidence, it’s now. He curses whatever god there is that he feels like a fumbling virgin in this moment when nothing is even happening, when just the anticipation is enough to make his hands tremble.

There’s no more stalling once you’re comfortable and the tape is set to play. His heart pounds to the steady and frantic rhythm of one of those heavy rock songs Dustin listens to now as he sits next to you, hands itching to take a hold of you but also eager not to move too fast.

Almost as if you can sense his hesitation, you reach over and take his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

And so he does, and the second his lips slot to yours all the worry and anxiety is gone. He’s Steve Harrington, and he knows what he’s doing. You’re you, and he’s wanted this for so long. After years of being lost, he deserves to finally find the love he’s been looking for. He’s never been so sure of anything as he is, in this moment of initial clarity, that he’s in love with you.

He can’t say it, not yet. He’s sure it’s too soon, and the last thing he wants is to scare you off. But he’s determined to prove it to you, and the only way besides words is action.

He can handle action.

There’s no more restraint or hesitation behind his touch. This is it, this is what you’ve both been waiting for. There’s no way in hell he’s not going to deliver now. He’s desperate for you, and it shows in the heavy way his hands drag along your curves whilst committing you to memory; the way his tongue languidly swipes across your bottom lip; the way he shifts effortlessly to hover over you even while deepening the kiss.

He’s overwhelming every single sense of yours in such a sudden fashion, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Especially not when his hips meet yours in a deliciously slow grind and you finally get your first little taste of what’s to come.

He keens at the little breathless whimpers that leave your mouth, reading every single signal you provide him with and accommodating each. Moaning? He continues what he’s doing, intensifying if deemed necessary. Whining? He adds something, because he knows it’s hard to use your words when you’re wanting so badly. Squirming? He pays attention to the direction of your movement and pulls away or presses closer depending on necessity. It’s down to science for him; he only really cared about extracurriculars in school anyway, and this was certainly his favorite.

But then he comes to his senses–while he doesn’t pull away completely, he needs to clear his mind and he does so by letting up a bit, allowing the kiss to become languid and the heat to extinguish a bit. It only makes you whine more, and Steve curses his damned formula. You shouldn’t be part of an equation. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, and every aspect of your relationship so far has been a new experience for him. He needs this particular activity to be different too. No formulas or calculations. Just you and him and whatever happens naturally.

Clearly you can hear the cogs in his mind turning. You pull away with a concerned look on your face and ask, “what’s on your mind?”

Now’s not the time to hide anything from you, he reasons with himself. He wants to be authentic with you, and part of that means telling the truth, even if it’s not something particularly comfortable.

“I’m… falling into a routine. And I don’t want to,” he admits. He sighs and leans back, one hand dragging through his shaggy and disheveled hair, sure that he’s going to ruin the mood if he carries on like this. But he refuses to back away from the truth now. “This… it’s always been like…. Like a series of checkpoints. Boxes to check, y’know? Kiss you, take your clothes off, make you come, fuck you, say goodnight. And I don’t want… I can’t let it be like that with you. I need this to be… real. Not just some list to cross shit off of. I don’t–”

Steve takes a long, shaky breath before he can ramble on anymore. Never has someone so thoroughly gotten under his skin. He’s never felt so insecure, so unsure. It’s terrifying. The most terrifying part of it all, though, is that he likes it. He loves the feeling of the unfamiliarity, of doing this right. In a way, it’s almost like he’s doing all of this for the first time all over again. You’re his first date, first kiss, first time. All because he’s changed so drastically, because he’s not even remotely the same person he was just a year or two ago.

Your hands are so gentle as you cup his face, tenderly forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Steve… we don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready. I want to be with you, not just for this, but for everything. Everything that comes with you… that’s what I want. There’s no pressure. I would wait a hundred years for you to be ready so long as I could still have you.”

Steve’s breath shakes a little as he comprehends the gravity of your words. There’s nothing he can say that can properly convey the gratitude he holds for your words, so he says nothing at all.

In his silence, you continue. “You’re more than a body, you know that, right? You’re funny, and kind, and smart. Yes, smart, don’t look at me like that. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted to be close to. I just… I want to spend time with you. I want to watch stupid movies and eat diner food until we get sick and laugh at your stupid jokes… and maybe make love with you, sure, but that’s pretty low on the list as long as I just get to be with you.”

He doesn’t notice the tears until it’s too late–by the time you’re wiping them from the apples of his cheeks it’s far too late to take them back or hide them. With anyone else, he would be angry; at himself, for allowing himself to be so vulnerable. For allowing himself to be so emotional. With you, though… with you, his emotions make him feel strong.

For the first time since you walked into his life, he’s not scared of losing you.

“I love you,” he tells you. His voice is firm, as fierce as the kiss he presses to your mouth, as powerful as the waves of emotion vibrating through his very soul. “I love you so much.”

He barely gives you a chance to reply, as keen as he is on physically proving his love to you through myriad passionate kisses that leave you breathless. But when you finally get the chance to use your voice after a barrage of kisses that start to trail down your neck, you whisper, “I love you too.”

Four words, and they’re all he needs to quell every worry or fear he’s had over doing this relationship properly with you. Why should he have to worry, after all, when he’s already succeeded?

“I love you,” he whispers as he trails down your neck and to your chest, leaving tender love bites on the tops of your breasts once he’s properly liberated you from your shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles through sucking a mark a few inches north of your navel.

“I love you,” he murmurs when his lips meet your waistband. His fingers make quick work of your pants as he scatters kisses over your stomach, unable to part his mouth from your skin for even a moment.

“I love you,” he affirms as his mouth meets your hot and waiting core.

There’s no more checklist. Because this isn’t simply sex, as it always has been for him in the past. This is love-making: the kind of sappy shit they talk about in all those Hallmark movies that he rolls his eyes at the sight of. It’s like losing his virginity all over again.

He understands the old adage of “the other half” now. You’ve ripped him to shreds and sewed him back together with strands of yourself. The end result is better than the original ever could’ve even dreamed to be. He’s sure he couldn’t possibly live without you now, that losing you would be like ripping out fresh and unhealed stitches.

You’re not sure how long he camps out between your trembling thighs, but it’s long enough for you to lose count of the number of times he pulls you apart–first with his languid tongue; then his long, curved fingers; then a combination of the two. It’s like he loses himself completely in your pleasure, not a single thought in his head except what he can do to bring you to the edge again, and again, and again.

You’re trembling with oversensitivity by the time his own needs overtakes his desperation to unravel you. So out of it that you feel drunk, like Steve’s laced you with absolute bliss so pure you can barely stand it.

You’re hardly present enough to appreciate the adonis before you when he finally undoes his own jeans, and that’s a damned shame because he’s so damned pretty. Long and thick, flushed at the girthy tip from his hitherto unacknowledged arousal. His lean thighs are pure muscle, and the dark thatch of hair that trails south from his navel makes your mouth water. He’s everything you dreamed he’d be and so much more.

“Steve…” You don’t know what else you can possibly say. All you can do is vainly hope that one whine of his name can convey all of the heat, frustration, tension, and above all longing, swirling through your head in the moment.

He breaks from his lustful reverie for a moment to smile as he leans in for another heated kiss; you think it’s safe to say you’ve gotten your point across.

He slows from his mania for a few moments, lips tender as they explore against yours once more. These kisses are languid, slow, yet no less heated. Even now, he’s trying to prove his love to you. As if you could somehow not believe him after everything that’s happened, every small moment you’ve spent with him witnessing how hard he’s trying for you.

Somewhere in between kisses he manages to wrestle a condom out of his nightstand, miraculously without ever breaking from your lips.

Now is where you cut in, finally fading out of your over-pleasured fugue and back to reality. You take the little foil packet from his hands and tear it open, eager for this small chance to finally get a hand or two on him.

He lets out the most gorgeous noise you’ve ever heard as you roll the rubber down his length; a deep, earthy, diaphragmatic moan just from the simple touch of your hand. You want to touch him even more, to wrest out more of those sounds from him; to see what other undiscovered responses you can pull from him as you pleasure him. But you know that now, he needs to set the pace. He believes he has something to prove, and you’re more than happy to let him prove it. There will be plenty of other opportunities to have him completely at your mercy, anyway.

There’s no way to describe the feeling as he slides into you. It’s more than bliss, more than euphoria, more than earth-shattering toe-curling mind-altering pleasure. It’s nothing more than feeling whole. Of never knowing you were missing a part of yourself until it’s suddenly returned to you. Of never knowing what home felt like until this exact moment.

Maybe it’s overdramatic. Maybe it’s outlandish and outrageous and a million other adjectives to feel something so overpowering and overwhelming from such a seemingly simple physical act. But in this moment, you know you’ve never felt anything as right as being connected to Steve in this way.

His lips hardly leave yours while he rolls his hips against you, easily finding the perfect angle to make your breath hitch and your hands scrabble for purpose.

It admittedly doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t have to. Once you start to tighten and pulse around him, he’s a goner–deep purposeful thrusts turning to hard, arrhythmic plunges in desperate search of release.

You’re still shaking from your high when he slowly pulls out of you. He keeps you close, arms linked around your waist and dragging you to lay on his chest as he flops back against the pillows.

You’re not sure how long you lay like that, with Steve whispering sweet nothings into your hair and pressing absentminded kisses to your face. All you can really focus on is one all-consuming, life-changing fact.

“I love you, Steve Harrington.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back. He kisses you again, just a simple peck on your lips, and you know that he’s telling the truth. It’s an eternal truth: one that can’t be changed or altered in any way. Steve Harrington loves you with every fibre of his being, and he will for the rest of his life–even if you’re both blissfully unaware of it for now.

THE END

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#cece writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

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mzzledmutt · 21 days

Text

first time dad!izuku…

cw: fem!reader, prohero + first time dad!izuku, cutesy fluff, first time parents, pregnancy, NSFW, izuku loves titties, lactation kink

notes: izuku midoriya is 21+

firsttimedad!izuku who sobs joyous tears of pride and love as you announce your first pregnancy. he was giddy and ecstatic, rushing to kiss and hold you close. after years of draining hero work, he was finally ready to settle down.

“you’re pregnant? oh my god! baby, that’s amazing! holy shit…we’re gonna be parents. but, we’re gonna be parents! there’s a baby in there!”

firsttimedad!izuku who adores taking care of you, especially now that you’re pregnant. from the start, he had been there for you. learning how to steer you clear of unhealthy cravings, keeping your hair back as you puke your guts out, massaging your already aching feet and back.

“‘zuku, can i have another bowl of ice cream? baby’s craving more.”

“baby or mama?”

“please izu’?”

“of course, my love.”

firsttimedad!izuku who takes every single moment to read up on being a parent. at his agency before a big meeting? he’s sitting at his desk, feet kicked up and gently swaying in his chair as he reads. cooking dinner for you, his lovely, pregnant wife? his headphones are playing chapter fifteen of a book he saw online.

firsttimedad!izuku who jumps around your bedroom when the baby first kicks. he loud and bouncing, giggles fleeing into the air. he tries everything to get a reaction. from kissing your small bump to gently taps and slightly raising his voice. he knew you were growing a tiny person in there but, seeing it happen right before his eyes was thrilling.

firsttimedad!izuku who’s frantic over the state of the nursery. you were so grateful for him, he practically did it himself. izuku begged you for the opportunity of putting your nursery together. he had you pick everything out and he did all the hard work of painting, putting furniture together and decorating (with some of your help of course). a deep feeling of satisfaction sat in his chest as he and you stood in the center of the room. wide smile in his face, hand secure on your waist, gently caressing your still expanding stomach.

“it only took a month and thousands of dollars but, it’s done.”

“this would be a bad time to say i hate the paint?”

“i’m kidding! don’t crucify me. it’s beautiful! truly, you did a fantastic job, ‘zuku.”

“you’re beautiful, mama.”

“oh, shut up.”

firsttimedad!izuku who’s friends surprise him with a guys night after discovering the news. many friends from his years of being a hero and school attended, congratulating him on his next step in life. as a surprise, the students invited their old teacher, mr. shōta aizawa who kindly attended to bestow some wise words upon the growing hero.

firsttimedad!izuku who stays involved you’re entire pregnancy. who’s there whenever you need him. who’s prepared to do whatever you need him to do even after a rough night. because izuku is a good man. a good hero, husband and he will be a good father.

firsttimedad!izuku who’s fixated by your swollen breast, full of warm, sweet milk. emerald eyes track you with pinpoint accuracy as you change, slipping your black bra over your head. while sunbathing by the pool, he’s hovering by the edge staring at your blossoming figure covered in an almost angelic glow.

“you’re staring again, izuku.”

“you’re just so pretty.”

“you’re just saying that.”

“no, not at all! you’re the most gorgeous woman i have ever had the pleasure of meeting. you are my best friend, my partner in crime, my wife, the mother of my child. you are stunning, my love.”

“i thought katsuki was your best friend?”

“that’s all you have to say after that!?”

firsttimedad!izuku who’s fixation turns into curiosity. is there already milk in your breast, just waiting to be consumed? do they hurt? he often sees you hiss after gentle touches but, it could just be new sensitivity. could he feel the difference in weight in his palms? what would it taste like? is it sweet or bitter? is it thick or thin? can he try it?

firsttimedad!izuku who practically corner you one night after returning from a gruesome day. his hands caress you in all the right ways, his lips brushing against your overly sensitive skin. you keen fast, ending up in your shared bed as he removes your bra. mind focused one his one goal of quenching his thirst.

“izu move, you stink and my back is killing me.”

“just give me a hug.”

“did you not hear me? you stink, take a shower please.”

“we can shower together, baby. mph—fuck, you smell so good, mama.”

“let go over me you dope.”

“no no, wait. i’m not done with you.”

firsttimedad!izuku who’s mouth waters as he squeezes some fresh milk from your breast, leaning down to lap at your wet skin with his tongue. soft moans fill him with a sense of pride as he massages your other tit, pinching at your aching nipple. he finally sucks on your breasts, looking up at you as his tongue circles your nipple. finally, the white liquid is flooding his mouth, causing him to groan as his eyes fluttered shut.

firsttimedad!izuku who’s hips rut into the sheets below him as he’s latched to your tits. alternating between sides when he’s realized he’s not sharing his attention. the taste was overwhelming, better than izuku expected. all he desired was to lap from your breast for hours. your sweet nectar being spared for your unborn child instead of himself felt like a cruel punishment in his lust-fogged mind.

#mzzledmtt!#mzzledbarks!#deku smut #izuku midoryia smut #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #my hero academia #mha x reader #my hero academia smut #tw.pregnancy

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dabislittlemouse · 9 months

Note

“You’ll never be alone again.” + Yandere!Shigaraki please (straight up destroy my sanity)

“𝒀𝒐𝒖’𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏…”

yandere!Shigaraki x reader (MDNI, kidnapping, Shigaraki being a creep)

2K FOLLOWERS EVENT

Everything was blurry as you struggled to open your eyes. Your head felt heavy, making you wince and hiss as your whole body shivered. The room was not entirely warm, goosebumps forming all over your skin. Every inch of your body hurt, your head was pounding. Where am I?, you thought, have I died?

Memories had faded away for a second, you stayed there in silence, trying to move your body forward, deciding to answer the questions in your mind later. Though, you could not move. It didn’t take long for you to realize that your arms were tied behind your back, your body pressed against a cold metal pipe as chains were holding you, wrapped around your waist. You could feel them wrapped so tightly, pressed against your skin. Dread settled deep in your gut as you realised that you were completely tied up, and something heavy rested on your face, blocking your view. Breath hitched on your throat and panic set in, the heavy object in your face not falling down no matter how much you shook your head from left to right.

Your frightened whines and squeals were interrupted by the squeak of a wooden door opening, followed by slow footsteps. You froze, the object in your face not allowing you to see at all , simply increasing the fear inside of you.

“Well, well..” a deep raspy voice echoed through the empty room, footsteps getting closer. “Seems like you’re awake little one..”

You could recognise that voice, the one that had been haunting you for all these months, to the point it appeared in your nightmares. You remembered the famous silver haired villain that you barely escaped from when your campus was under a villain attack. That’s when Tomura Shigaraki noticed you for the first time, struggling to escape, and his breath hitched. You captivated him entirely, it was like he found a new purpose in life when he saw you. He took in your sight, your pretty face that had his cold dead heart suddenly beating. He knew he’d make you his the moment he laid eyes on you.

Just like he’d learned from his Master, destroy everything that you hate, that pisses you off.

And get whatever else you want. It’s all yours.

“W-Where am I?” you said, voice shaking in fear as you felt his presence near you now. Shigaraki reached to remove whatever had covered your face and blocking your sight. Your eyes widened when you noticed what it was: a hand. It was familiar, one of the hands that the villain was easily recognisable and known for, the ones that he kept all over his body and his own face too. And now it was on yours. You felt nauseous, tears falling down your cheeks as you grimaced in disgust.

“Home” he replied, followed by a mischievous grin as he put the heavy hand on his own face. “This is Father by the way, I don’t just give him to anyone..”

You didn’t know what he meant by ‘Father’, nor did you want to know. Maybe for your own sanity it was better to not know too much. Those bloody red eyes of his flared in excitement, something ominous lingering on them too, making you feel small. Your body was naked and exposed in front of him, making you feel weak and defenseless in front of the nightmarish villain. Lowering your gaze over your naked body you noticed another pair of his hands pressed on both of your tits, holding them as if they were a pair of bras that fit you perfectly well. Your eyes widened in terror, you started squirming and hyperventilating, knowing too well where this all could lead to.

“P-please don’t hurt me! Please let me go, I s-swear I haven’t done anything wro-"

“I know you haven’t” he interrupted you, his hand reaching to wipe off your tears. “That’s not what you’re here for.. and don’t worry, you won’t turn to dust unless all my five bare fingers touch you”

Tomura noticed the way you flinched, remembering his terrifying quirk.

“And it’d be a real shame to turn a pretty thing like you into dust anyway” he chuckled. Your vulnerability in this moment made it hard for him to not pounce at you right there and then. The way your glossy eyes full of fear and anxiety stared back at him, the way your naked body and delicate flesh decorated with nothing but sweat, dirt and your natural body odor that made him hungrier. And those perfectly shaped tits that fit so well with the palms he’d put on them, the sight made his pants tighten.

“What do you want from me?” you whispered, feeling extremely uncomfortable with the way he was gazing on your figure.

“What do I want from you?” he repeated the question. “Let’s just say.. everything”

He got closer, placing his cold hands on your knees while you whimpered, then going up and caressing both of your bare thighs.

“I want this.. all of this” he growled, his fingers digging at the plush of your thighs and then reaching for your hips and belly. Your mouth fell open but the scream was caught in your throat, the way he was touching your body with those filthy hands of his made you feel beyond defiled.

“A weak little thing like you, living your boring little life, unaware of the dangers out there. Thinking you’re so safe because the righteous heroes are always there to save you. But where are they now?”

Your lip trembled, more tears flowed as you looked at those crimson eyes that pierced right through your soul. His hand gripped your chin harshly when you weren’t answering.

“Where. Are. They. Now?” he repeated the question slowly, sternly. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“N-Nowhere” you whispered, your forehead already covered in sweat.

“Exactly” Tomura grinned. “Nowhere. At the end of the day, you are always alone, aren’t you? Oh, I have watched you yes, my eyes haven’t left you for once as you continued on with your silly daily tasks. The way you were at risk of getting hurt many times because you just love to walk at night with those short sundresses don’t you? Walking around campus without a care in the world. Not noticing the way those filthy men stare at you, following after you. Not knowing the things they could’ve done to you”

He was now mere inches away from your face, his warm breath hitting you. His mind went back to when he asked for Skeptic’s help to install secret cameras all over your house, your way to work, your way to school, your favorite places to eat, and he’d watch every single move of yours through the computer’s monitors if he wasn’t able to be near you.

“But I did. I noticed all of them filthy bastards who stared too long at what’s mine, and I made sure each of them didn’t live to see the other day. All dust”

At what’s mine.

He grabbed a small wooden object nearby with five of his fingers, immediately disintegrating it to emphasise what he was saying. You listened to him, eyes wide in shock at the realisation that he has killed so many people. That your missing male classmates who never showed up the other day, they were in fact dead, all dust, nothing was left of them.

Tomura grabbed one of the hands that was placed on your tits, bringing it closer between your legs.

“N-No please” you gasped, feeling the coldness of that dead hand reaching towards your folds.

“Don’t you worry sweet thing, now I’m here” he said softly, placing open mouthed kisses on your neck and biting ever so slightly, the hand between your legs pressing against your bare cunt. Some of its fingers teasing your entrance.

“You’ll never be alone again. You’re mine forever”

#2k milestone event #fyowhore #shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura smut #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere x reader #x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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byeoltoyuki · 6 months

Text

my kind of fighter

↳ Pairing: Felix x Reader

❧ Genre : Fluff / friends to lovers / smut

❧ Words : 2k

❧ Summary : “Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

A seminar, a great invention according to your manager, to learn new things, meet new people and spend some quality time with selected colleagues. A great moment to strengthen the bonds between you. It did sound like a great idea, but only theoretically. What if you found yourself among a bunch of arrogant, narcissistic assholes? Not that great anymore, was it?

It wasn’t your first seminar; somehow you always ended on the list and fortunately for you so did Felix, the only reason you hadn’t snapped. Felix with his bright smile, cute freckles and his just too lovable personality; nobody could possibly resist this man and you were definitely not an exception. Despite his rather boyish look, he could be bitchy and incredibly straight forward – just what you needed to appreciate him more. Did you mention that he was also hella good looking? No? He was. Sadly.

Now, unfortunately for you, the two of you weren’t the only one on the list, Mike, your colleague who also happened to be a piece of shit, was on the list. Out of the three of you, he was definitely the one enjoying this seminar the most; after all he had a bunch of new people to impress, to brag about his skills, his projects (that weren’t his in the first place). Your dislike for Mike wasn’t a new thing, you weren’t hiding it and Felix knew the extent of your hatred better than anyone.

“This project got us a big client! Quite frankly I’m impressed with myself.” You heard Mike talking from the corner of the room, frowning at his words. “I’m sure I’ll get a nice bonus and a promotion.”

You scoffed at the audacity of this man and averted your eyes from his disgusting face for the sake of your sanity.

“Relax.” Felix whispered as he leaned closer to you. Maybe to make sure you wouldn’t snap out of nowhere or maybe he just wanted to be close to you and give you some comfort (his presence did help you to relax half of the time). Or maybe both. “It’s Mike, you know how he is.”

You took a deep breath, counted till ten in your head and then looked at Felix. “I know but I still want to punch his face. And maybe break his nose too.”

Felix couldn’t stop himself from imagining the scene and chuckling. What a sight it would be. And a lot of trouble too. “As appealing as it sounds, it’s a no.”

“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” You asked again, trying to do your best puppy eyes (as if it could work on Felix).

“Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

“Y/N.” “Fine! Whatever.” You huffed and turned to look back at the people in the room, avoiding Felix’s eyes on purpose, pouting.

Felix shook his head, quite amused with you. He knew, of course, that if he didn’t object to your wish, you would have done it and damn the consequences. He couldn’t let you do it. “Oh no.” You groaned, noticing that Mike was done bragging and was walking towards you. Even with Felix’s comforting presence, you tensed, knowing that you couldn’t avoid the man and his bullshit.

“Felix! Y/N!” Mike called for you, too cheerful for your liking. “Why are you standing by yourself? Come on! I have some really nice people to introduce you to!”

Whoever considered Mike interesting and believed his bullshit wasn’t worth your time in your opinion, but you forced yourself not to comment.

“We’re fine here.” You finally replied, trying not to sound too annoyed.

Mike cocked a brow at you, clearly unconvinced but it didn’t fazed him that much. He stood by your side and didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist. “Come on, you need to relax, darling.” The nerve, you thought. This was also why you hated Mike with all your guts. He believed he owed everything and everybody; he believed he could touch any woman without consequences. You hated his touch. You hated his scent. And you hated it even more when you felt his hand getting lower, dangerously close to your butt.

“Sorry Mike,” Felix started to attract Mike’s attention on him. If Felix wanted to throttle him, he didn’t show it, but you knew better. He was definitely holding back. “But Y/N and I already have plans. We were about to leave.”

Mike didn’t reply for a moment. He watched Felix, frowning with clear displease but finally let go of you. He stepped back, his eyes going back and forth between you as you neared closer to Felix. “I’ve been wondering for a while but…” He smirked as he stared knowingly at Felix. “Are you guys fucking?”

“None of your fucking business!” You finally snapped, blood boiling, ready to jump at him and finally break his nose. Whether Felix liked it or not.

Before you could do something that would definitely feel good for you but attract even more unwanted attention, Felix grabbed your hand and pulled you against him, holding your hand tightly in hope to calm you down. The gesture only made Mike’s smile grew wider.

“Guess you are.” He commented, “Aren’t you a lucky man.”

Luckily for you or him, you weren’t sure about who was really the lucky one, he left the two of you alone. You pushed Felix away, fuming with rage. You knew, of course, he was right holding you back but in a moment of pure hatred, you couldn’t think straight.

“I can’t believe you stopped me.” You yanked your hand from his gentle yet strong grip.

“He’s not worth the trouble.”

“So I have to deal not only with his bullshits but also with his disgusting behavior?”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t bother. I’m going back to my room.”

*** The moment you got back to your room, you disregarded all your clothes and went straight to the shower, wanting the hot water to wash Mike’s scent from your skin and erase his existence from your mind. It did help. To some extent. But with this shower came also the realization that you hadn’t been very nice to Felix. He was looking out for you and in your anger you didn’t see it. You promised to yourself to apologize later.

Later came sooner than you expected.

You were scrolling through your phone, wearing the oversized t-shirt you brought in your bag, relaxing when someone knocked the door.

You hesitated, wanting to be left alone, yet your curiosity got the best of you.

“Hi.” Felix said, smiling sheepishly at you as you opened the door. But his smile slowly vanished from his face as he noticed what you were wearing. He gulped, trying not to stare, trying to keep his eyes on your face. He cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, instead you moved from his way to let him in. It was your chance to apologize for your behavior but your voice got stuck in your throat as you silently observed him.

“I’m sorry for earlier.” He apologized, taking you completely off guard.

“What?” “I shouldn’t have stopped you. Especially not after he touched you.”

And yet, you knew he was absolutely right stopping you from getting in trouble. You watched him for a moment, watched as he clenched his fists before releasing a long sigh.

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” You finally said as you got closer to him. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”

Felix shook his head and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I should have let you stand up for yourself. Mike will never learn. Not until someone teaches him a lesson.”

You stayed this way for a moment. Felix didn’t let go of your hand, not that you minded, quite the opposite. His gentle touch was more than welcomed and made your heart beat a little faster.

After a moment, Felix took another step closer to you, your bodies so close to each other, you could feel his warmth.

“You know that I would always fight for you, right?” He said, eyes locked with yours. He was looking at you with so much intensity, with so much longing, you could melt right on the spot. You were always close to him. But this? This was new and too overwhelming. You averted your eyes from him face and gulped - Felix was having none of it. Gently, he grabbed your chin and made you look at him. “Y/N?”

Was he trying to kill you? Because, you thought, he was doing a rather good job. “Yes.” You managed somehow to say but didn’t sound as confident as you were supposed to.

Felix hummed, satisfied but didn’t let go of your face, his eyes on your lips. “I really want to kiss you right now.” He admitted

Did you want him to kiss you? The answer was on the tip of your tongue but you held back. Crossing the line was dangerous, you knew it and he had to know it too. And yet, he didn’t seem bothered, so should you?

“Say something, please.” He begged, hopeful.

It was pure madness, there was no other way to describe what you were about to do, but you couldn’t deny your own feelings. Because yes, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted him to hold you in his arms. You wanted to feel his lips, his touches, everything.

“Fuck it.” You cursed under your breath, pulled him by his collar and crashed your mouth against his.

Felix didn’t hesitate, not even for a second; he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you fully against him, lifting you lightly from the floor. Just like you, he wanted to feel all of you, he wanted to know your touch, your taste, everything you were willing to show him, to give him.

“Fucking finally.” He groaned against your lips.

The kiss was just everything you had ever imagined. Needy but sweet. Desperate and yet controlled. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you poured all your feelings, all your needs into the kiss.

Felix lifted you from the floor, wrapping your legs around him as he carried you to your bed, lips never leaving yours. He broke the kiss only to drop you on the bed. He stilled and admired the view before him. Your t-shirt was barely covering your body which made him realize that you wore absolutely nothing underneath. He licked his lips, memorizing every part of your body, every curve, every mole, every little scar. You were perfect and he couldn’t wait to explore you, to make you his.

“It shouldn’t be allowed to look so good.” He whispered and quickly got rid of his shirt, exposing a perfect skin and abs; you couldn’t wait to trace your lips over his body.

“Look who’s talking.” You giggled and wiggled your brows playfully at him.

Felix got on his knees, grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He didn’t hesitate; he kissed your right ankle while having his eyes on you, watching you like a prey, watching as you inhaled sharply. His lips trailed from your ankle to your calf, to your knee, leaving loving kisses here and there. He was so delicate, so sweet, turning you on even more. He was so close yet so far from where you needed him most.

“Felix.” You pleaded

“Hm?” He smiled against your skin.

“Are you going to make me beg?” You asked and regretted almost instantly your question as Felix looked at you (looking too beautiful between your legs) smiling too proudly for your liking. He liked the idea.

He pressed another kiss to your inner thigh. “So tempting.” Yes, it was and you would absolutely beg if it came to that because it was Felix, the sweetest person on earth. Because he was your comfort person. Because you wanted to give him everything he wanted.

“But, as tempting as it sounds,” He started and gave a light lick to your pussy, just to have a taste. He groaned. “I don’t think I can resist your sweet pussy, love.”

Thank god, you thought.

Felix didn’t hesitate any longer and dove in. He licked, he sucked, he feasted on you, already addicted to your taste. How did he manage all this time to resist you was a mystery even to him. Now that he had you, now that he had a taste, Felix knew, there was no way in the world he would let you go. There was no way he would allow another one to touch you.

“Felix.” You moaned and arched your back in pure bliss. But you still needed more, wanted to feel more.

“So sweet.” Felix hummed in satisfaction, memorizing now not only your taste but also your voice, your sweet and lovely moans.

Felix pushed at first a finger inside you, then quickly added a second one, thrusting them in and out, watching how your pretty moans got louder, how you rocked your hips wanting to feel him deeper inside you.

“Fuck, fuck.”

“Look at you, love.” Felix purred, “So eager, so wet. And just for me.”

“Just for you.” You managed to say in your dizzy state. You could barely hear him. You could barely think when he was reaching all the right spots.

His tongue, his fingers were all you needed to fall apart, to come completely undone with one silent scream.

Felix rose from the floor and while staring at you, eyes filled with lust, he licked his fingers, taking his time – you almost came once more with the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“I’ll never get enough.” He admitted

You wanted to taste him too. To mark him. To pleasure him. Before you could do any of that, Felix disregarded the rest of his clothes and joined you, hovering over you, pushing your legs apart a little bit further.

You always knew that Felix was beautiful, but now that you saw him fully naked, his warmth enveloping you, you knew that beautiful wasn’t the right word to describe him. Unable to say anything else, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him for a needy, wet kiss, softly moaning into the kiss as you felt him against you.

Felix slowly eased inside you, inch by inch, stretching you.

“Fuck love, you feel so fucking good.” Felix growled, his voice sounding deeper than ever. He stilled and took a moment to pepper your face with kisses, to kiss your jaw, your neck while giving you a moment to adjust.

Nothing and nobody could compare to Felix, not then and definitely not now. Not when he was gently thrusting into you, setting a slow, loving yet deep rhythm, making you whimper and moan his name, begging for more. The world around you simply ceased to exist as he kissed you, loving you with his every thrust, with his every kiss, with his fingers working their magic on your clit, slowly bringing you to a shattering release you were sure you had never experienced before. Maybe he was that good, or maybe with Felix, everything felt different.

“Can I say it now?” Felix asked, growling as he sought his own release. “I love you.”

Your heart leaped up for joy. You kissed him fiercely, letting him explode inside you as you poured your own feelings into the kiss, hoping he could feel just how much you loved him back.

Felix fell on top of you, head resting on your breast, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. You ran your fingers through his locks.

“I love you too.” You whispered, “In case you doubted.”

Felix lifted his head to look at you. He gifted you with his sweetest and brightest smile you had ever seen. How could you not love him?

***

Despite the few hours you managed to sleep, you felt happier than ever, filled with new energy – enough to face the face and fight the world if needed. Felix, by your side, mirrored your expression as you had breakfast on the terrace of your hotel. The weather was lovely and so was your sight.

“I think, this seminar was useful, for once.” You admitted between two bites. “I can’t even complain anymore.”

Felix chuckled fondly. “I’m sure you’ll find something to complain about.”

Felix was absolutely right. You would.

“Wait-“ Just when you were about to stuff your mouth with your yummy pancake, you spotted Mike getting to a table by the window. You frowned, taken aback. He was alone which was so out of character, but maybe it had everything to do with his swollen nose. You gasped loudly and dropped your fork. “No way!” You pointed an accusing finger at Felix. “His nose was mine to break!”

Felix tried to look guilty but one look at your pouty face and he burst into laughter. “Sorry.”

It was hard to feign being mad at him when he looked at you like that. Who could possibly be strong enough to resist his pretty smile and his eyes? Definitely not you.

“I promise; next time I won’t hold you back.” He swore. “I’ll try not to.” He quickly added.

“Sounds like a plan.”

#stray kids #lee felix #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #felix x reader #felix x smut

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ashiemochi · 6 months

Note

bestie, I ain’t gonna lie - I’m very hungover at work for reasons I’ve already told you

Can I have a comfort drabble of Leon taking care of an icky and hungover reader 😭 I’m dying

You were promoted -- and that was all it took to convince you to invite Leon for a celebratory night out with loads of drinks and snacks. Leon tried to convince you that there was no need for you to take care of the bill, but you were stubborn.

"You always buy drinks for me, so it's my turn!"

You really just wanted a reason to spoil him instead.

One drink turned to two, then to three, then to four, and then more.

You weren't shooting for that many drinks, but Leon kept going as if he didn't have a liver. You knew about his high tolerance for alcohol and his history with drinking, but it seemed like he learned how to not relapse.

And maybe he didn't drink as much as you. Maybe it was him just taking small sips and enjoying the beverage unlike you who was going all out for the weekend. You were calling the shots (and downing them) as Leon casually busied himself with his Brandy and the small cup of peanuts.

You'd ramble about random things that didn't make sense with those red cheeks of yours and those drunken and slurred giggles. Leon was just as happy as you were about the promotion -- though let's be honest, his monthly paycheck was your whole year salary.

And more.

Even when you went to dance with some friends from work, Leon chose to stay by the bar. It wasn't like he hated dancing or mingling with the crowd -- if it's with you, he'd recreate a whole Step-Up scene. If it's with you, then he'd do anything.

But from his spot, Leon sat quietly with a drink in hand, his eyes trained on your swaying form like a hawk. In both lustful and protective ways -- and love.

So, when the night ended and morning came, Leon was still there for you. Though he didn't know how someone like you could vomit that much.

"Fuck me, I'm going to dieeee..."

Leon bit back a snicker as he held your hair back, inwardly cringing at the sounds of you emptying your guts. You didn't even manage to open your eyes before you found yourself rushing to the bathroom with a pounding headache.

For a split second, you even thought you passed out but it was just your legs giving out from the sudden movements of hopping out of bed. And because you were extremely hungover, but that's beside the point.

You were dying.

"No, you're not going to die." Leon rolled his eyes lightheartedly at your dramatic nature, his hand rubbing your back, "You're just hungover. It'll pass."

"You mean... I'll pass away..." You drawled, your voice croaky and still heavy with sleep.

Leon chuckled and that made you straighten up a bit, turning your head slightly to look over at him and he cocked up a brow at the scowl on your face.

"What?"

"You're laughing at me..." You mumbled, "You think this is funny?"

"Absolutely not, baby," Leon laughed and shook his head, "I think it's very cute. You were practically drinking for the both of us last night."

"Ugh... I knew it..." You moaned, dropping your forehead to your arm that was resting on the toilet seat, "You didn't drink shit."

"I did, just not as much as you." Leon pointed out, leaning forward to press a quick kiss on your head, "C'mon. Luckily for you, I know exactly the right things to do in this situation."

"Die?"

"Not even close."

Leon was a gentleman. First things first was to get you some rest to get rid of that headache. He got you some painkillers and water, emphasizing you finish the whole cup. It was one of the few moments where he'd be stern with you.

Only during the times when you wouldn't be taking care of yourself.

Next thing was food. By the time you woke up, it was in the afternoon and you were starving if not still a bit nauseous. So, for something light on the stomach but filling, Leon made some chicken noodle soup.

A banana smoothie too for the hangover to dissipate completely.

Third, a hot shower which Leon turned it into a hot bath instead as you were a bit lightheaded still.

By the end of the night, Leon had you all snuggled up against him on the couch in your comfy clothes with nothing but some ice cream and even more water.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil infinite darkness #leon kennedy #dbd fanfic #resident evil fandom #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy imagines #resident evil memes #dbd memes #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy smut

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hottpinkpenguin · 1 year

Note

Hii, could you do a matthias x reader with the promp "Did I miss the part where you suddenly turned likeable?" where the reader is Grisha and her and matthias HATE, eachother. Like literally loath eachothers existence and they end up jeprodising missions because off it

A/n: loved this idea!!! who doesn't love a good enemies-to-(maybe?) friends story! let me know what you think anon :)

Matthias X Inferni Fem!Reader Word Count: 2,490 Warnings: mentions of disfigurement, burning, cursing, not proofread

The force of the explosion collided with Matthias’ back, throwing him forward like a ragdoll. Heat singed the back of his neck as small shards of rock and glass bit into his skin. He slammed down against the rocky ground, knocking the breath from his chest. Pain and shock kept him immobilized for a few moments as he tried to gasp air into his lungs. His ears rung with a high pitched keening, the world disappearing in a blaze of bright white light for an instant.

When he finally felt his lungs expand with a greedy breath, he opened his eyes to see a pair of leather boots standing in front of him. He looked up at you, your lip curled slightly in a half-snarl, half-smirk.

“Get up, druskelle. I’m not carrying you.” You stood above him, your arms crossed, a look of smug contentment on your face as you watched him struggle to regain his breath and clamber to his hands and knees.

Hatred boiled in his gut as the urge to swipe your ankles out from under you raced through his mind. He knew you were too good a fighter, your reflexes too quick, to actually be caught unawares like that, but the image of you falling to your ass - no matter how unlikely - was so appealing that he couldn’t help himself. He lashed out with his right hand, hoping that a combination of speed and strength might just catch you off your guard.

As he predicted, you were too fast. You lifted one of your feet and slammed it down on his wrist like a cat catching its prey, pinning his wrist against the ground. He grit his teeth against the pain. You’d used just enough force to hurt him without actually injuring him, although he knew that wasn’t for his benefit.

“Saints, you two are going to get us all killed!” Jesper and Kaz strode over from the still smoldering remains of the building you’d blown up. Kaz’s face looked like a thundercloud as he approached you, coming up so close to your face Matthias swore the Bastard of the Barrel was going to spit on you.

“Let him go, Fire Witch.” Kaz’s voice was a low growl, threat laced through every word. Your eyes narrowed in challenge, and Matthias felt your foot grind down a little harder on his wrist before releasing him. You were flicking the shard of flint you used as a fire starter between the fingers of your right hand as you held Kaz’s gaze.

“He shouldn’t be here,” you snarled back. “I don’t work with Grisha killers. He’s lucky I haven’t burned the skin from his bones.” Your eyes were dark and hateful as you watched Matthias rise from the ground. He ignored the threat: however strong your hatred of him, it was returned in kind.

“It’s not your call. Fall in line, or get out of my sight.” Matthias hadn’t known Kaz long, but if there was one thing he’d learned, it was that Kaz Brekker was the leader of every mission. Matthias, for his part, appreciated a strong leader. Kaz’s shrewd if at times shockingly cruel tactics never troubled Matthias, although he’d seen you struggle with taking orders since you’d fallen in with the crew almost a year ago.

So Matthias wasn’t surprised when he saw your hands flit like hummingbirds at your side. He realized now why Kaz was standing so close: it blocked you from being able to use the Small Science. And Kaz knew you well enough to know that you’d never back down from him - literally or figuratively. Matthias made a mental note in his head, although he sincerely doubted if he’d ever tolerate being that close to you. Your and Kaz’s nose were barely a hair’s width from brushing.

“I don’t take orders, either.” Your voice matched Kaz’s in its tone, eagerly rising to the challenge.

Kaz didn’t balk or blink in the slightest. In fact, he smirked smugly at you, like a spider who knows its caught a fly. Jesper stood close to Kaz’s side, his eyes trained on you warily.

“You’ll take orders from me, Witch, or you’ll suffer the consequences. More aptly, you’ll watch someone else suffer the consequences.”

For the first time since Matthias had the misfortune of meeting you, he saw something like real fear in your eyes. Your nostrils flared at Kaz. As the standoff stretched on through a few tense breaths, Matthias realized he never knew how or why you’d come to end up working with Kaz Brekker. He’d never cared enough to wonder. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what Kaz meant by “watching someone else suffer the consequences”, although it clearly struck a chord for you. Whatever Kaz had on you, it was something you didn’t seem willing or able to walk away from.

“You know I won’t do that.” Your chin dropped a half inch, your eyes widening slightly as if to convey to Kaz a sincerity Matthias didn’t know you had.

Sensing victory, Kaz nodded. “I know that. So you’ll fall in line. Stop trying to get the Fjerdan killed.”

You shot Matthias a look of contempt over Kaz’s shoulder. Irritated and emboldened, Kaz thrust the carved crow handle of his cane up under your chin, jerking your head back towards him.

“Fall in line or pay the price.”

Matthias watched as the rest of your headstrong resolve crumbled under whatever Kaz was threatening you with. The tension in the air was so thick Matthias realized he was holding his breath. He shot a quick look over at Jesper, stock still at Kaz’s shoulder with his shooting hand flexed subtly by his holster, as if he thought you might lash out at his boss. Something about Jesper’s defensive posture and Kaz’s overtly bullying behavior was grating on him. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he actually felt like defending you.

“She won’t kill me, Boss.” Three pairs of eyes snapped over to Matthias as he spoke. “She couldn’t if she tried. Fjerdan or not, I’ve gotten under her skin. She likes me, she just doesn’t know it yet.”

Matthias didn’t believe a word he said, but he added just enough smug swagger to his voice that Kaz and Jesper seemed to buy it. The moment broken, Kaz stepped back from you and Jesper’s shooting hand dropped from his holster. Kaz shot you one more warning look before he strode past you, shoving you with his shoulder and leaving you and Matthias alone.

Matthias watched your eyes bore holes in the back of Kaz’s head as he limped over the ridge and out of sight. Finally, you turned back to face him. Usually your eyes were nothing but loathsome pits when you looked at him. Matthias couldn’t be sure if he imagined it, but he swore he saw a flicker of something like gratitude in your face. You opened your mouth and inhaled, ready to speak, but no words came out. Your mouth snapped close, and you looked up at Matthias with a strange flurry of emotion. Then, with a small nod of your head, you turned on your heel and followed Kaz.

It was the first time Matthias could remember that you’d wasted an opportunity to goad him. And the first time you could remember when Matthias had been something other than a thorn in your side.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“What did Brekker mean by ‘someone else will suffer the consequences’?”

You barely looked up from the rabbit you were skinning from across the fire.

“What are you talking about, Druska?” Your new nickname for Matthias. He supposed it was a bit better than druskelle, although you still sounded like you were hexing him every time you spoke.

“A few months ago. After the glass factory job.”

Recognition dawned on your face, but you didn’t respond.

“Kaz told you to step in line or someone else w-”

“I remember,” you interrupted him, an edge of irritation in your voice. “After I threatened to burn the skin off your bones.”

Matthias chuckled. “The very same.”

You still kept silent, studiously avoiding his gaze, although he didn’t miss the violent way you stabbed the skinned rabbit carcass with the spit.

Matthias opened his mouth to press the matter further, but something about the cold glitter in your eyes stopped him. The two of you hadn’t spoken about that day since, although there had been a noticeable change between the two of you. Matthias wouldn’t go so far as to say you were friends. More like non-combative work associates. He figured it was an improvement over borderline murderous adversaries, and he realized he wasn’t willing to risk going back to the way things were.

Befuddled by his own reaction, Matthias shrugged, resolved to drop it.

You spoke so quietly he thought he’d imagined it at first.

“He’s talking about my sister.” Your eyes wide and glassy, the fire dancing in your pupils.

Matthias froze, too shocked to know what to say back. Thankfully, you seemed content to fill the silence.

“Kaz lets her work at the Crow Club in exchange for my services. She’s… she can’t get a lot of jobs. Any jobs, really. On account of the… scars.” You swallowed thickly, tamping down a lump in your throat and swiping away the tears that pooled on your lash line.

Feeling compelled to speak, Matthias blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“What scars?”

For half a moment, he wondered if you would launch yourself at his throat from across the fire. Normally, the two of you didn’t make small talk, even when you were alone on missions - which had been happening a lot, recently. His question stepped over small talk into the realm of personal.

For the second time in as many minutes, he was shocked at your vulnerable response.

“The burns,” you choked out. “We were little… my parents had just figured out I was Grisha. We were playing… she pulled on my hair, yanked some of it out. I just… lost control. I just meant to scare her. Not to hurt her. Just to get her to leave me alone… but… I burned her.”

Matthias could barely breathe, his heart thundering in his chest. He watched as tears slipped loose from your eyes, trailing down your cheeks and dripping off your jaw onto the dirt.

You ignored them, the words falling out of your mouth like water bursting through a dam.

“The burns are… extensive. All over her face, neck. Her arms. There’s nothing wrong with her, she can still do everything you and I can. Her eyesight’s a little worse, but for the most part. She’s OK. It’s just… people look at her and they don’t know what to do. They think she’s a monster. We were banished from our village. Our neighbors said she was marked by demons. Some of them figured out it was me. That I burned her. So they called me a demon. My parents… they did their best, but they didn’t know anything about Grisha. They’d never left Fjerda before.”

Matthias sucked in a breath, his chest tight like a winch.

“You’re Fjerdan?”

You looked up at him like you were coming out of a daze. As if he were seeing you for the first time, he noticed the proud way you held your chin. Your fearlessness. The streak of loyalty you had, the duty to protect those around you, even the ones you hated. How he had not seen it before?

“Yes. I am.”

Your words hung in the air like smoke. Matthias felt his feelings for you turn upside down, a strange and unwelcome feeling of affection blossoming in his chest. Eager to bat it away, he scrambled for something to say, anything.

“I never knew that.”

You chuckled darkly, rolling your eyes.

“I know, Druska. I wanted it that way. Fjerda was… not kind to me.”

Matthias nodded, unable to find a suitable response. He’d been raised to hate Grisha, to hunt them like the dogs he’d been told they were. He’d never stopped to consider the person behind the Small Science.

“So… your sister and you, are you close?”

You shook your head, that coldness flaring to life in your eyes again.

“No. She hates me. Disowned me as soon as she was old enough to live on her own. My parents weren’t too far behind her. They never forgave me for what I did to her.”

You trailed off, only the crackling fire filling the silence for a few breaths. Matthias waited, watching you thoughtfully as you turned the roasting rabbit on its spit.

“I look after her. From a distance. I traded my service as an Inferni with Brekker for her employment. So she wouldn’t have to resort to… other professions, to make a living for herself. It’s the least I can do.”

Matthias felt a second surge of affinity towards you. The pieces began to fit together for him: the reason you resented him so vehemently; the reason Kaz was able to blackmail you so easily; the way you fought with the kind of recklessness that only comes from not truly minding if you live or die.

“Sounds like she is lucky to have you,” he offered.

You quirked one corner of your lips at him in a sarcastic smirk. “Lucky? Luck has nothing to do with it. One of the first things you learn as a Grisha.”

Matthias snorted, shaking his head. You narrowed your eyes at him in question. “That’s not a Grisha lesson, Firedrake,” he told you, using the nickname he’d given you in exchange for ‘Druska’. “That’s a Fjerdan lesson. Only the strong survive. And the strongest save us all. Your sister, she sounds strong. She survived. But you? You have saved her. That makes you the strongest.”

You looked at him across the fire, deep in thought as he watched you take in his words. He could tell you wanted to argue, but for some reason you didn’t. After a few moments, you tipped your head back and laughed. It broke the tension, and Matthias found himself laughing alongside you. For the first time since he’d met you, Matthias wondered if the two of you might actually grow to be friends.

“Druska, did I miss the part where you suddenly turned so likeable?”

He felt a warm flush spread across his cheeks. Grateful for the dim light, he ducked his head down, both of you still chortling.

“Funny what happens when you stop threatening to burn the skin from my bones, isn’t it?”

You smiled, showing your teeth for once. Matthias returned the grin, his heart doing an unfamiliar twirl in his chest. That’s new, he thought to himself.

“I guess it is, Druska. I guess it is…”

For the first time since the two of you had met, neither of you slept uneasily that night…

#matthias helvar #matthias helvar x you #matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar x y/n #matthias helvar imagine #matthias helvar requests #shadow and bone #shadow and bone requests #shadow and bone imagine #calahan skogman

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multifandomthoughts · 16 days

Text

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“You what?”

Kid’s eyes were nearly bulging from his sockets in anger and disbelief. His fists were clenched, fuming. He doesn’t understand why you would say such a thing, and doesn’t like it one bit. Not the type of man to cry, he could feel his eyes well up with tears.

“Why not? You’ve fucking always loved me, haven’t you? If this is about the comment I’m sorry, and I truly mean it! I’m just trying to make sure that my reputation as one of the worst generation stays the same. If anyone finds out that I’m lovey dovey behind closed doors, they won’t fear me!

And there it was. You had loved him, truly. But lately he had been an asshole towards you and towards his crewmates. Kid could be in a bad mood sometimes, but this just isn’t like him. Constantly making underhanded comments to others that he’s the toughest and even attacking other ships in the means of conquering them.

The two of you had been in a relationship for a long time; you had grown used to his antics. His dirty comments, his light teasing towards his crew mates and even rough housing was usually expected from him. But when the lighthearted horse play started to turn into secretive jabs towards you, ones that actually stung, you knew it was time to move on.

Kid wasn’t going to stand for it, not one bit. Everytime he knew you were going to be somewhere, he’d try to apologize and attempt to make up for what he’d done. And always days later he’d be back to his old ways. The next time he approach you, you’d escape his clutches to truly prove you’ve moved on without him.

Coming up from the hold, you can see him trying to corner you, most likely trying to plead for your forgiveness and coax you back to him. Stepping back, you run and jump up the steps, sliding underneath him. You make a bee-line for killer, who you’ve been confiding in a lot recently.

“He’s doing it again Killer, trying to convince me that he’ll change. He can barely change his own underwear, let alone aspects of his personality.” Killer grows silent, clearly struggling to hold back his hated laugh. Clearing his throat, he speaks softly. “If you continue to show him you’re not interested, he’ll get the point. And if he doesn’t, I’ll make sure that he has to deal with me. Nodding, you can feel a faint blush begin to rise to your cheeks. Kid had never offered to protect you before.

Weeks go by, and you find yourself spending more and more time with Killer. You find yourself appreciating his more quiet and timid nature as opposed to Kid’s loud and oppressive one. You learn more about him, finding out that with those blades, he makes a fantastic cook. After you spend enough time with him, you get to hear his unique laugh.

You can definitely see that he has a softer and sweeter side than you knew a guy with spinning blades at his wrists could. A few weeks go by, and you’re closer than ever. You spend almost every waking moment together, attached at the hip. Never before have you felt so safe, so comfortable, so respected around another person. You have a gut feeling that this is going to blossom into a beautiful relationship.

So you wait. And wait. And wait. At this point, you’re fed up. You could’ve sworn that he would’ve confessed to you by now. He tells you everything that’s on his mind, surely this is something that’s bothering him. You figure you might as well confront him, and see what his reaction is.

Heading up to the bow of the ship, your feet clatter against the wooden boards. It was your designated spot that you met up in, and sure enough, there he is, sitting quietly. Gruffly, you speak. “Hey Killer. We need to talk.” Squatting down next to him, you sigh as you lean your head against the railing. “Of course, what’s bothering you?” You take a moment to ponder your next words carefully, as it could make or break this.

“We’ve been spending lots of time together, and I was just wondering…if you maybe like me in a romantic sense.” Before you can even finish your sentence, you hear Killer’s quiet signature laugh. You think that you know the answer, now.

“Yes, I do like you. Very much.” Stunned beyond belief, all you can do is stare. Why did he laugh then? Sputtering, you try to speak up, but no words come out. You keep trying until you finally get the words out. “But why didn’t you confess to me earlier? I would’ve thought if you liked me that much you would’ve tried to start a relationship earlier.…”

Killer nods, reaching out and holding your hand in a soft grip. “That is true, but I wanted you to be comfortable enough to make the first move. I want you to have as much agency in this relationship as I do.” Falling from your squat to a seated position you lean against his shoulder as his thumb rubs your palm softly. “Well, in that case…I really like you too, Killer. Will you go out with me?”

“Of course. May I have a kiss then?” You nod aggressively, tentatively lifting his helmet. “I would like nothing more.” Leaning his head towards yours, your lips meet in a supple yet gentle kiss. The kiss feels like forever, yet you pull away only after about a minute.

“I love you Killer.”

On the other side of the ship, silent eyes have been watching, unbeknownst to you. Kid has caught every second of your new romantic encounter, and he’s not pleased. His ex-girlfriend and his first mate? There’s a couple ways that this could end, and very few of them are pleasant.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagines #killer x reader #killer #one piece killer #eustass kid #kid

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 9 months

Text

Part 5 - dare not preach

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

Masterlist Part 4

"And If I had the answers I'd have written them out so I could tell you what to do and what this thing is about. But all I've ever learned comes second-hand and I dare not preach what I don't understand." -Make A Move by Icon For Hire

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Content warning: briefly implied child abuse (Vlad is not a good guy by any definition),

Time was lost in between bouts of consciousness, flashes of pretty eyes and fire hair, soft muttering and gentle caresses against his skin soothing his aches.

Jason was caught between heaven and hell, wracked with agony behind his ribs one moment and healed with persistent warmth the next, a never ending cycle.

He wanted to scream.

One bout of semi-clarity was of some citrus concoction on his tongue, gentle murmurs of a woman by his ear before she kissed him again, forced something down his throat again.

He both loved and hated that woman. She felt familiar in a way that made his bat-honed paranoia rear its ugly head, the instinct to survive in his gut a heavy weight, but she brought him peace in the same moment she could damn him.

He caught his name once, his real name, spoken by her as he swallowed dutifully, a spike of want in his heart almost a welcome change from the pain by that point.

————————————————

Jazz spoke with the Lady frequently as the Red Hood, Jason, healed in her bed.

The elder spirit, regal in mannerisms and aura, demanded the Regent to aid this one vigilante, this one knight and Jazz had finally figured out why.

It was so obvious when she had all the puzzle pieces, the depth of occult knowledge both in her brain and at her disposal should have been her first resource used to dig deeper, but she’d allowed Danny and Frostbite to assume (and let her assume) that the Red Hood was an awakened Liminal who was recovering from corrupted Ecto in his system.

The Red Hood had been Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin- bright light of Gotham- and he’d been murdered by the Joker.

Unburied in my soil.

Jazz groaned in self-contempt as she paced the graveyard of Gotham’s Crime Alley. It was decrepit and uncared for, not like the higher class cemetery of Gotham proper where the Rich and powerful are buried. She what’s spent the better part of three days researching her new bedmate roommate once he’d been stabilized enough to be on a consistent schedule for ecto-infusion. He’d be unlikely to regain full consciousness for another month or so, but he would recover fully.

That was, if he understood what he had become in his near-fatal collapse.

(Thanks to Jazz and her rash actions.)

The Lady had been cryptic when speaking of Red Hood at first, but with his recovery and development of a strong proto-core Lady Gotham was eager to aid the Regent in making her once Robin adjust to a world-changing consequence once again.

(At least this time he would have support.)

Not only was Jason a Liminal with an indisputable death-claim, he had been a- a Revenant whose continued existence was a mind boggling happenstance of circumstance that was one in a infinite chance of ever happening again.

The Lady claimed him. The Lady gave a bit of herself to resurrect her bright Light, the one who shouldn’t have died so young, not while he deserved happiness for the hope he brought to so many.

(Damn it all.)

He clawed himself out of his own casket, to be found by Talia Al Ghul of all people… then survive the Lazarus Pits in body, with only Pit Madness to show for it?

(It was a callous way to think about it, but Jazz knew that it had also given him his freedom in many ways, that Jason wouldn’t have if he was still just a Revenant.)

(Did the Al Ghul know what she had found that night in dreary Gotham?)

(Was she aware she had given Jason Todd a third chance at life- however much of one being death-claimed by Lady Gotham could be called a life.)

The Lady, wistful once assured in the Regent’s anger having passed, swore an oath that Jason would never be forced to be a Knight again.

(Jazz reveled in the understanding that Batman, Bruce Wayne, was destined to be Gotham Knight for his mortal lifetime- possibly beyond.)

(Had he sworn his fealty by accident in his grief? Or had his donning that ridiculous gimmick been enough of a bind to tie his soul to the Lady?)

(Regardless, for his inaction, Jazz privately reveled in the satisfaction of the true consequences of his choices.)

Jazz, who’d been pacing a strict line in the uneven row of headstones, came to a rest at the grave of the once-Revenant who now lay in her bed.

Jason Todd

He’d been only a year older than her little brother when he’d been murdered by the Joker, buried under a name that was half-complete. He was a Wayne in life, but not in death? How hypocritical of the old bat, to not give him the courtesy of giving him the hyphenated last name if he wasn’t going to bury him in the Wayne cemetery.

What would it have been like if Danny had a grave, complete with a stone and inscription?

(The portal was his grave. He’d died there and the house was his graveyard.)

Would it have been up to Jazz to choose the words to describe her little light, the brightest star in the galaxy, the one reason she had for getting up in the morning… or would her parents have cremated him and put him on a shelf to prevent a corpse from ‘piloting’ his corpse?

(Jazz still had nightmares about Danny’s death scream. The portal ripping him apart in the same moment it fused him back together.)

(Into something different, something more.)

(He was her little brother, the same one who she spent her birthday money on to get those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars.)

(They’d spent hours forming constellations on his ceiling.)

How does one paraphrase a life?

Would Jazz start with his name, his preferred name, or with his date of birth?

Would she put down ‘dearest brother’ or ‘missed’, ‘Be at peace’?

No. Jazz knew she’d give the most important pieces of what made her little brother the brightest star in the sky-

Danny, per aspera ad Astra.

Danny had an unconventional memorial tucked away in the remnants of the Fenton lab, underneath the debris of what was once a strange machine to a world unseen.

The portal was built into the wall with ample access space in the rear for intended maintenance, though it was not required once the portal was completed and functional.

Jazz left flowers for Danny in that maintenance space three days after she first saw his transformation, yellow tulips, though she didn’t know the impact the action would have later in life.

Once a month, Jazz would return to replace the dried flowers, dust away the cobwebs, close the door, rinse and repeat.

Christmas was particularly complicated in the Fenton household, but the first year of Danny’s half-life was the worst Jazz could recall up to that point.

It wasn’t the eerie lack of ghost attacks (thanks to her not knowing of the Truce then), or the winter storm being harsher than any other Amity Park had faced in previous years… No, it was that Danny had died, while nothing and everything changed.

Jack and Maddie still screamed their arguments about Santa Claus, loud and proud for the world to be privy to.

Jazz had extra tutoring to take up for Christmas presents.

Danny… Danny still had to fight a ghost.

Ghostwriter wasn’t a malicious ghost in nature, far from it in fact, but he was never a fan of her little brother.

Jazz overheard Danny tell his friends about his ‘storybook adventure’ and she had to sleep in the access space for the night, just so she didn’t wake anyone with her crying.

It wasn’t right.

That thought repeated on a never-ending loop in her head as she tucked her growing limbs into the cramped space, eyes shut tight and the darkness shrouding her in safety.

(That had been the first nightmare of her own death to come, fingers frantically searching for a pulse as she woke in the dark.)

Perhaps she should have never left that darkness.

Because then the anger that had been building inside of her would never have been unshackled after the release of the tyrant king.

Jazz had been a patient girl her entire life. It was a necessary evil when raised by scientists to follow in their footsteps, though she had no intention to make her life into any imitation of her negligent parents, she learned those lessons at the knee of Maddie Fenton, who had given her life to the pursuit of ecto-science.

(Built a very strange machine to a world unseen.)

When Jazz failed to achieve something, she observed and struck when the opportunity presented it. That’s how she’d survived ghost attacks for so long, escpecially when it was her own dinner- that and the ingrained knowledge to strike hard and quick when it was required. A paradox of a hunter and a hunted, but that was Jasmine Fenton’s upbringing in a nutshell.

Jasmine knew Vladimir Masters was a bigger predator than she was capable of hunting as a young girl.

(Jazz was just a little girl when Vlad became obsessed with her and her mom.)

(Only the dead truly knew what an older man could do to someone so much smaller.)

It was a waiting game that morphed as she grew, bones sturdy and teeth sharper as Ecto-contamination finally settled into her molecules- Death-claimed, Liminality. Vlad was a false halfa, just as he was a false friend to her parents and a false business man, but as long as he stayed out of her way in caring for her little brother than she would not destroy him.

(She was a patient hunter.)

Pariah Dark was the final crack.

(It needed somewhere to go, all that anger, all that rage.)

Jazz had been patrolling the outer limits of the ghost shield now that Amity was returned to the Living Realm, anxiety in her gut as Danny had yet to show from his battle against the tyrant king.

He had obviously won if they were all safe, right? The mech suit would boost him enough, but could it really kill what was already dead?

Hidden in the embrace of familiar shadows, Jazz witnessed Plasmius carrying an unconscious Danny over his shoulder and a…crown in his right hand.

Not only had the bastard released the King for the Crown of Fire, he’d damned them all for the same item he’d stolen in the aftermath.

Jazz’s next actions weren’t borne from Vengeance, they were unfiltered rage.

Vlad had died that night, Jazz believed wholeheartedly, he died before she locked him in his casket- a since soldered shut Fenton Thermos.

Thing was, Jazz didn’t recall what happened between them- all she could really remember when thinking of that time frame was a green haze that was so similar in color to the damned portal.

One moment, Plasmius had Danny and the Crown. The next, he was a beaten man in his human form with no rise and fall of his chest to convince Jazz he was alive.

Was it concerning? Of course. Jazz never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not in a blackout rage state.

(How times have changed.)

Would she ever mourn Vlad? No. He deserved a far worse fate than a second death.

(His sins were numerous.)

If his casket would later be given to Pandora, the trusted Mentor of the Boy King’s Regent…. Well, where better to keep a body hidden than with a Matriarch who understands the sins of man?

(Pandora had always believed in Jazz, the Regent’s soul was far too bright to be snuffed out without a war.)

Within the Infinite Realms, the Regent was called many things- titles that held little meaning to the one in question, but offered weight to her authority.

The Lady of the Acropolis, for her mentorship with Pandora and position of respect among the populace.

First Knight of the Star King, would be granted once her Regency was over and Danny was crowned. His epithet as ‘Star King’ was a beautiful homage of a lost dream.

Death-Claimed Champion.

It made the Regent grit her teeth when addressed as such, especially when she lived in Gotham presently- the city of Lady Gotham’s Knights… her Champions.

Jazz had survived to adulthood as a highly contaminated Liminal, no patron to claim as her- Not even Pandora counted even though they shared a teacher/student relationship.

Would Jason, Red Hood of the Alley, be able to handle managing his territory without the backing of a patron claim? The Lady did swear that the once-Revenant was no longer bound to her service, which meant he could pack up his gear forever if he wanted to.

Though that was highly doubtful.

Jason was a strong willed man to lay claim to his haunt so quickly and hold fast for so long. Jazz shared her haunt with Danny, but that was only because he was the powerful Halfa and future King. His Haunt would never be challenged by a competent opponent, not in Gotham at least.

Perhaps Jason would be willing to unite their haunts?

It was a common tradition for older ghosts to allow weaker ones to share their haunt for protection, but that didn’t translate well to the Death-Claimed.

(Jazz had a hunch that Jason was so in tune with his haunt that he instinctively knew when she or Danny stepped foot across his boundary.)

(They tried not to linger, out of respect of another’s haunt of course.)

Then again, Jason was the Baby Liminal between the two of them. Danny and Jazz should be offering him to share a haunt for protection.

(Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what Jason looked like as a child.)

(She would bet almost anything that he was an adorable kid.)

(Would their kids be so cute?)

There was a slight lilt of sadness that lingered over the daytime hero, Signal, that Danny almost choked on his Death Wish.

The coffee, that is.

Little late on the literal bit.

Gotham (city, not the Lady) was an ever-gloomy fruit basket full of ghastly vibes. You see it and you know you’re in for a bad time, but that’s typically at night.

So what was up with Sunshine Child?

Yeah, he was clearly human and allowed to have off days, duh, but for it to hang like a shroud of storm clouds over Sunny? Yeah, no. That shit needs to be gone, like yesterday.

“Hey, Sunshine!” Danny called out with a false cheer. It was too damn early in the morning for real cheer, are you mad, but Signal didn’t seem to notice as he approached the lawn chair the Halfa had decided would be his new throne.

(At least Jazz would find it funny.)

“Hi Danny. Can I help you with something?”

Danny took a loud sip of his coffee before he went straight for the throat, “You’re doom and gloom this morning, Sunny. Whose bones do I need ‘ta steal?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just…” the meta Hero trailed off, voice tired as he let himself relax for a moment in Danny’s presence.

(That’s right, Danny’s just a friendly civilian teenager with anger issues, right?)

(Oh he would be cackling at that lie when he had a moment to himself again.)

“My brother is missing.”

Danny blinked.

“Your brother? One of the birdies?” He tried very hard not to pull out any of his jokes about traffic lights and Stabby Robin, but at least he didn’t sound condescending?

“Sorta. Red Hood… he went off grid about a week and a half ago.”

(Yeah this isn’t something Danny should be privy to.)

(Like at all.)

(It’s not like he was housing the guy in his home right?)

(Oh wait.)

“Yikes, Sunny. That sucks, ‘m sorry.”

Signal sighed, “Yeah, thanks Danny.” He paused again, studying the canonical adoption bait that was Danny Fenton before he dropped a bombshell.

“Batman thinks he’s dead.”

(Danny almost cackled in manic glee at that statement.)

(Overshot the mark there, Bats. Yikes.)

Danny happily waved goodbye to his meta friend, a dorky salute with his coffee cup in commersiation of a shitty hour of the day to be awake, before he leaned back in his lawn chair and yawned.

“Oh, what drama. Jazz is gonna kill me all the way if she finds out.” He said out loud to no one in particular. The occasional shade that kept him company didn’t bother to move at the sound of his voice now that Signal had left, but it did let out a mournful trill that made Dannny chuckle.

“Yeah, yep, you’re right- when, when, Jazz finds out.” Danny laughed again, “Worth it.”

A/N:

Yeah, I wasn't expecting so much angst either, but apparently, that's my jam, because I literally cannot write anything else. Well, anything that doesn't sound like two robots trying to mimic humans at least.

This was supposed to be a more upbeat entry and look how epically I failed. I had to put a content warning up top because I wrote/heavily implied that Jazz was abused by Vlad due to his obsession with Maddie.

In other news, I have a playlist now for what songs I listen to while writing this. It's called 'Guns & Sword: Jazz on' 'cause 2am me thinks she's clever.

#dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #regent!jazz #jazz fenton #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #ooh angst #*points at Jazz* this badass can hold so much angst #some character building for Jazz #I swear I try writing dialogue and I choke.#How did i never learn to write dialogue properly?

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justmeinatree · 2 months

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Extra - Saturdays Take The Pain Away

Summary : an Extra to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome (nestled between part 4 & 5)

*note - i made this chapter an extra because there’s no smut. i know that a lot of people following this story are just here for the smut, and that’s totally cool ! but this idea of feelings has been in my mind for a long time and i just needed to get it out there. if you’re not here for feelings, and only here for smut, you can skip right over this part and not feel like you’ve miss anything !

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

Word Count : 5.3k

A/N : i’m sorry. i made some promises, but this was plaguing my brain and then it just sort of ended up on my screen and well now it’s on yours. enjoy ! ✌️

GIFs : unknown - msg for credit

you were not looking forward to this dinner. not one fucking bit.

it had been months since the gang had gotten together, and in theory, you should be ecstatic to see everyone again. and yet, here you were, sitting in the passenger’s seat of niall’s car, resenting the fact that he essentially bribed you to come. fuck him, and fuck him for knowing how to get you to do things you don’t want to do.

you trudged behind him into the restaurant, following along until you almost bump into him, noticing that you’d made it to the large table in the back of the establishment.

and as if this night couldn’t get any worse, you were the last two to arrive, forced to sit in the last two seats at the table, right in front of louis and his new girlfriend.

it was a dinner where everyone would finally meet her, the lady that stole his attention clean away from you, for the last few months. and damn it all, she was actually really pretty. like really, really pretty. fuck, you’d actually consider making a move on her had the circumstances been different, and if you didn’t already absolutely hate her guts.

niall notes your sudden pause, your eyes clearly fixated on the end of the table where you’d be forced to sit, making him give your shoulder a comforting squeeze, murmuring against your ear, “be civil. we’re doing this for louis.”

so you sigh, put on a smile, surely the fakest smile that all of your friends will most likely see right through, and sit in the god forsaken chair you were condemned to for the next few hours.

you couldn’t keep your eyes away from them. the way his fucking hand rests on her thigh, incredibly unsubtly, under the table. the way she fucking leans into him, all lovey eyes, as if she’d just learned that he hung the moon in the sky. something you’ve known for years now. the way his fucking nose bumps into her temple when he whispers something in her ear. the fucking blush that rises to her cheeks when he obviously says something a little too sexual.

but it was also the little crinkle by his eyes when he smiled, the glint in his irises when he laughed, the little bit of stubble starting to grow on his jaw, the bob in his throat when he swallowed, the grasp of his fingers around his liquor glass, and the fact that she was allowed to cuddle and touch and all of a sudden you weren’t.

you were fucking fuming.

and niall, bless niall, knew you were having a hard time, his hand always perched against you, be it your knee or your shoulder, even giving a little scratch to the back of your neck in comfort. you had to remember to thank him later. because he was helping, really was, you were just a little too worked up at the moment to really take notice.

the only thing that seemed to help was the constant flow of liquor, always a bottle somewhere on the table, something you were reaching for more than you typically ever do. by now, you’d long forgotten how many times you refilled your cup, the concoction having turned absolutely rancid halfway through. you were notorious for leaving a few sips at the bottom of the cup, always refilling with something new, the current mix becoming more and more sour, and more and more potent.

niall was letting it slide, for now, seeing as he knew you needed it. and again, bless niall, taking one for the team, and pacing his drinking in order to keep a watchful eye on you.

but as time went on, louis had taken notice as well, “going a little hard tonight there, love.”

and you were fuming all over again, the liquor clearly running rampant through your system, “don’t pretend like you care now,” you mutter, eyebrows furrowing, gaze flicked down, because you could not stand to even look at him anymore. especially now that her hand was perched on his chest, as she talked over him to oli.

louis instantly looks over at niall, a questioning glance, worry etched on his features. he wasn’t blind, he wasn’t naive, he knew very well that you weren’t taking this easily. but it’s when he catches the little shake of niall’s head, a silent plea to just let it go for now, a message received loud and clear, making louis sigh, hand tugging on his roots quickly.

so he waits. knows you well enough that he’s just going to be patient, wait it out until the moment comes where you inevitably have to pee. and with niall now distracted, and louis’ girlfriend happily chatting with oli’s lady, he quietly excuses himself, waiting in the hallway next to the one bathroom that’s occupied.

you’re startled as you step out of the toilet, not expecting someone to be right there. expecting louis even less. fuck.

“will you tell me what’s going on ?” louis asks softly, wanting to keep you calm, genuinely worried for you, his bestest friend.

but he’s met with a sigh, a shoulder shrug, and a quiet, “don’t want to talk to about it with you,” as you attempt to sidestep him and head back to the comfort of niall.

louis is quicker though, having less alcohol inebriating him, hand gripping into your upper arm, pulling you back into the bathroom along with him, closing and locking the door.

you use the wall for support, the world spinning a bit thanks to the absurd mix of liquor. your eyes were fixated on both your shoes, louis’ getting closer and closer and closer, until they were right up, toe to toe, against yours.

“please talk to me, love,” he breathes, making you look up, noting how close he’s gotten. so fucking close. you could feel his tiny breaths hitting your nose, his fingers almost touching yours, and you were spinning, spiralling into a never-ending swirl of louis.

you’re not even sure how it happened, but your lips were mingling with his, your hands gripping into his shirt. and everything seemed to melt away, float off into nothingness as all that mattered in that moment was louis.

but just as quickly as it happened, his mouth was briskly pulled away, and the invading sense of him had disappeared, instantly replaced with a large hand wrapped around your neck, holding you in place. “the fuck are you doing ?” louis snaps.

he hadn’t even realized what he was doing. that is, until he caught the look that flashed through your eyes. a mix of submission, of excitement, of calm relaxation, of lust, and fuck, even more than all of that, trust.

slowly, his hand falls from it’s hold on your throat, his breathing laboured as his mind absolutely reels. louis never meant to do that, not for a second. he’s not even sure what took over him, but it’s making him crumble, as if his insides were so confused they were running around like headless chickens, bumping into everything in their path.

so he focuses on the moment that brought all of this on, the moment you lunged into him for a deeply passionate kiss. and then his simply confused insides shift to confused anger, “have you gone fuckin mad ? you know the rules and this is straight up fuckin cheating. and you’re roping me into it too,” he adds sternly, finger poking into your chest, on the verge of shouting, because fuck, really ? “don’t ever fuckin make me cheat on someone again, i don’t do that shit.”

heavy. your chest was heavy. the water in your eyes was even heavier, tears falling down your cheeks, unable to stop no matter how hard you willed them to. it felt like you were breaking all over again, feeling the weight of the loss of louis all over again. you didn’t handle it well the first time, and you were clearly not handling it well the second time.

“i miss you,” you whisper quietly, a stark contrast to louis’ shouting, shame filling your entire demeanour.

louis knows what you meant, doesn’t need you to explain further, and as heart wrenching as it is to look at you in such a state, he’s still filled with the same bout of confused anger, “we knew this was going to happen, darling. christ, what the fuck did you expect ? that i’d just sit around waiting for you and niall to want to fuck ? never have someone to call my own, ever again ? be your god damn lap dog for the rest of eternity ? you’re not that fuckin naive,” he shakes his head, turning away from you and leaving the bathroom entirely. he couldn’t deal with this. not right now. not with his girlfriend surely wondering where he’s gone for so long.

he heads back to the dinning area, taking the path that forces him to walk behind niall’s chair. he crouches once he reaches niall, hand falling into a pat on his friend’s shoulder as he whispers against his ear, “should go check on your girlfriend. she’s in the bathroom.”

and as quickly as he’d arrived, louis was gone, back to his spot next to his girlfriend, offering her a smooth smile and a soft peck on the cheek.

niall however, is left utterly confused, eyebrows furrowed as he looks over louis, trying to get any other hint out of him, wanting to be prepared for whatever he was about to walk in on. but with louis too engrossed in whatever conversation he’s just joined, and niall not wanting to leave you if you were really in need, he decides to simply head in blind.

when louis had left, you felt your knees give out, your back gliding down the wall until your bum hit the floor. your elbows rested on your knees, hands supporting your forehead.

it didn’t take long for the telltale knock that was surely niall checking up on you, a sigh leaving your lips before you speak out, “s’unlocked.”

niall walks in quietly, shutting the door behind himself and locking it, looking down at you with empathetic sadness in his eyes. he extends his hand for you to grasp, helping you come to a stand, landing his hands on your hips, walking you backwards to the counter, and hoisting you onto it. niall stands between your legs, hands soothingly rubbing patterns into your thighs, “what happened, petal ?”

you look up into niall’s eyes, shame and sadness and nervousness pouring out of you, as you murmur, “i kissed louis.”

niall breathes, shaking his head softly, before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you in for a tight hug, “you miss him don’t you ?”

you nod against niall’s chest, face pressed against him, breathing him in. something about niall has always brought you so much comfort, you couldn’t quite describe it, but in moments like these, his calmness was everything. “it doesn’t change how i feel about you, you know that right ?” you needed to be sure, because it was true. so far, if anything, it felt like the addition of louis was somehow making your connection with niall stronger.

“of course i know that, petal,” niall murmurs, giving you a reassuring squeeze, and a lingering kiss to the head, “i know because i feel it too,” he adds.

you nod, it was something you kind of figured, both niall and louis were complete shite at hiding any sort of feelings. “how are you handling it so well ?”

“m’not sure,” niall sighs, shrugging. “i don’t think i’m handling it well, i think i’m just really good at shoving it aside and not thinking about it.”

“s’not healthy,” you murmur against his chest, playfully scolding him, lifting your head for the first time, looking up at niall. the easy, soothing, understanding conversation seemed to regulate your emotions so well, it’s something niall caught on to quickly in your relationship, something he’s happy to use as a secret weapon whenever it was needed.

“i guess it just hurts,” you sigh softly, “we were building something so strong, so good. and so fast. maybe too fast even,” you ramble on, your thoughts a bit jumbled, coming out as they piece themselves together. “but then he just found someone else. it’s like, i could understand if it wasn’t feeling as good anymore, or if we were growing apart for some reason. but it happened when things were just getting better. i wish i could understand,” you nod, finally figuring out what you were trying to say all along.

“we may never understand, pet,” niall hums, nodding. “i wish i knew as well, i really do, but we can’t dwell on answers. truth is, he met someone that he obviously has been enjoying enough to give it a go with. i’m sure he didn’t plan on it. last i knew he wasn’t even looking. sometimes these things just happen,” niall shrugs. “i know it doesn’t make it any easier, but that might just be it.”

“feels like you’re saying that she’s better than us,” you look at him, face smooshed in a mix of disbelief, of jealousy, of disgust, with a slight tinge of are you fuckin kidding me.

niall laughs, hands landing on your cheeks, thumbs smoothing out the crinkles in your skin, “m’not saying that. i don’t believe for a second that she has anything on you.”

you smile, knowing that he’s just being silly to make you feel better. but the gesture feels amazing none the less.

“what do you say we ditch this place and go home, have a cuddle on the couch with some shite food and one of those awful movies you like so much ?” niall smiles wide, wanting you to feel better, wanting to make you smile for real, wanting to make you laugh. wanting to make you enjoy a moment without the invading thought of louis.

and honestly, nothing would feel better. so you nod, shooting niall a smile, one that screams thank you for being you, a look niall is privy to more than anyone else you know. christ, you really loved him.

“c’mon,” niall hums, taking your hand and helping you hop off the countertop, arm wrapping around your shoulders, leading you back to get your things from the table.

“leaving already ?” louis asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he noticed you both gathering your things.

“yeah,” niall nods, “s’an emergency cuddles kinda night,” he adds, noting the way louis deflates a bit at the thought. so niall turns to you, handing you the car keys, “go ahead petal, m’just gonna pay and meet you at the car.”

once you were out of ear shot, niall turns to louis, taking the opportunity to speak to him quickly while his girlfriend was getting drinks with a few others. but louis jumps in first, “emergency cuddles ? s’everything alright ?”

niall looks at him, confused with why he’s asking, “uh, not really,” he chuckles, “s’kind of the point of emergency cuddles.”

“she wasn’t supposed to hate me,” louis sighs quietly, elbows landing hard on the table, forehead resting in his hands as he thinks. contemplates every single decision he’s ever made that have led to him this point.

making his way around the table, niall comes to a stand next to louis, patting his shoulder, “she doesn’t hate you louis. s’quite the opposite really, that’s what’s making this so fuckin hard for us.”

louis’ head snaps up to meet niall’s, his girlfriend now back and standing right behind him, patiently waiting for access to her chair. but louis’ mind couldn’t quite focus on her yet, because what did niall say ? no one’s ever told louis anything of the sort. what does he mean by the opposite ? what does -

“look, i gotta get back to her mate, have a good night yeah ?” niall hums, mustering up the best smile he could, ruffling louis’ hair and patting his girlfriend’s arm, offering a small, “good to meet ya,” before turning his back on the table and heading off.

louis felt like he couldn’t breathe, felt like his chest was constricting, felt like every ounce of power in his body had shot to his brain, trying to detangle the mess he put himself in. he’d never considered for a minute that you would have any sort of feelings for him that were more than friendly. never considered niall being so nonchalant about his girlfriend of over a decade having feelings for- “he said us,” louis murmurs, feeling the world he’s known crash around him.

he can hear his girlfriend asking a question, but he’s too focused staring into nothingness, eyes locked in the direction that niall left in, now long gone.

it had gotten late, like two whole movies after a late dinner kind of late. but you were so cozy, curled up on the couch in niall’s arms, head tucked into his neck and shoulder, his fingertips gliding up and down your arm, the gentle squeezes he’d give you in soothing comfort. the evening of emergency cuddles and shite movies had done wonders, with the distraction and the time to simmer down from the earlier shenanigans, you were back to your normal, calm self.

you were aimlessly flicking for another movie, hovering over legally blonde, ignoring niall’s mutters of “christ, this one again ? just fuckin watched it a couple weeks ago,” when you hear niall’s front door open and shut, then locking, louis rounding the corner and trudging up to the living room, “glad you’re still up-“

“make yourself at home, mate,” niall cuts him off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, following his path to stand in front of both of you.

you were both shooting confused glances, watching louis pace the living room floor back and forth a few times, before finally breaking his pattern, stopping and staring at niall, “what did you mean earlier ?”

niall’s eyebrows shoot up, unsure what he said that put louis in such a state “uh- what ?” niall shakes his head, utterly unsure of what louis was referring to. “what are you doing here mate ? s’like 3am.”

“m’i not welcomed at 3am anymore ?” louis asks quietly, shyly. he looks small, looks almost like a petrified animal, something that doesn’t go unnoticed to either you nor niall. and you both hated it, torn up inside because fuck, it was louis. he was never a small petrified animal, he was usually a loud rambunctious one.

“no, that’s not- what ?” niall sighs, shaking his head. “y’always welcome here, louis, you know that,” he offers softly, gaze fixated on his to convey that he really means that. thankfully louis visibly deflates when the words hit his brain, a little ounce of comfort in knowing that. “but, help us understand, please. shouldn’t you be with your lady ? not barging in on us in the middle of the night ?”

louis takes a deep breath, eyes flicking across the room as his brain pieces together exactly what he wants to ask. he was so jumbled up, it wasn’t easy to form one coherent thought without 8 other notions intruding. he sits himself on the coffee table, facing you both, wrangling the one thought that was plaguing him most, “i need to know what you meant before you left. when you said it was the opposite,” louis murmurs shyly, eyes flicking to yours when he said the word opposite. and just as quickly, he looks back at niall, adding, “and you said us. said it was hard for us,” he emphasizes.

niall chuckles breathily, shaking his head, “this couldn’t wait til morning huh ?”

“no !” louis all but shouts, niall’s eyes going wide, as he starts to understand that this entire thing is getting way bigger than he ever had imagined.

“okay, okay,” niall hums softly, hoping that a calm conversation works just the same on louis as it does on you. “sorry louis, m’sorry. just a little caught off guard by this.”

“so am i,” louis groans, scrubbing his face with his palms, willing to do anything to slow his mind and just be able to think properly.

“alright,” niall nods, shuffling a bit so he’s seated more on the edge of the couch, his hand extending to land on louis’ knee, giving a comforting squeeze, his thumb fluttering into a little soothing rub. “just tell us what’s going on, we want to help, mate.”

louis takes a breath, gaze fixated on niall’s, “just please tell me, please. i need to know what you meant. it’s driving me mental.”

“what am i missing ?” you pipe in quietly, shuffling yourself to the edge of the couch as well, wanting nothing more than to be closer to both of them. a feeling you hadn’t been able to soak in for months.

“when i asked you to go wait in the car,” niall explains, looking over at you, “lou said that he didn’t want you to hate him-“

“you think i hate you ?” you interrupt, your face snapping to stare at louis, sadness washing over your features.

“no, it’s not- i don’t-“ louis stutters, because really, he knows you don’t hate him, it’s just he never thought-

“fuck, i don’t hate you louis, i love you,” you blurt out, “why on earth do you think i hate you ? what did i do to make you believe that ?”

louis just stares at you, mouth slightly parted, ears ringing loudly, breath caught in his throat. did he hear that right ? did you just- but niall- niall. fuck. his best friend. louis’ gaze snaps to him, worry and panic etched into his features, still too frozen to process properly and form a coherent sentence.

“what ?” niall asks softly, breathing a laugh, “think i didn’t know that ? she hasn’t exactly been hiding it.”

“but- but how-“ louis groans loudly, looking back at you for a moment before landing his head back into his hands. this was too much, there was too much happening at once and his brain was imploding.

“louis,” you murmur soothingly, tracing his bird tattoo to get his attention, his face lifting from his hands, eyes filled with a desperate need to understand. “do you want to know why niall and i work so well together ?”

he nods, eyes flicking between the both of you, as you turn a bit to face niall better, smile taking over your features, something you couldn’t quite control whenever you looked at the man you loved so much. “we love each other, unconditionally. we don’t get angry with each other, we empathize, sympathize, understand.”

niall smiles back at you, eyes shining with pure adoration, as he adds on, “we don’t keep secrets, we just talk things out, ask questions, be there for each other. it’s done nothing but make us stronger, make our love stronger,” he hums, your forehead coming to rest against his, allowing yourself a small moment to take him in.

louis watches, biting hard on his lip, because this is exactly what he was afraid of. exactly what made him go find a girlfriend in the first place. he was jealous, mother fucking jealous, and he didn’t know how to handle it. still doesn’t. so he gets up, making a quiet exit towards the hall.

“hey,” you look over, “where are you going ?” you ask quickly, shooting up and grabbing at louis’ arm, forcing him to turn around, facing the couch again.

“s’that,” louis sighs, hand waving in the general direction of niall, the couch, and where you just were, sucked into your little world of niall.

“what’s that ?” you ask, leading him back into the living room.

“the two of you, fuck, i- i don’t know. jealousy ?” he murmurs, his shoulders deflating as he talks about it for the first time. “m’never gonna have the connection you two have.”

“christ, louis,” niall shakes his head, “‘course you wont. especially not if you keep running off to find a girlfriend every time. doesn’t happen overnight, gotta build it with us.”

louis sits back down on the coffee table, enjoying the ability to face the both of you while being in close proximity. it seemed to make this whole thing easier, just the fact that you could all feel each other, feed off of everyone’s calm demeanour. “there you go with that us again.”

“d’you honestly think he doesn’t want you here ?” you ask softly, utterly confused, because really, niall wasn’t all that great at hiding the way he’s been feeling about louis.

“i don’t know what to think,” louis mutters exasperatedly. “up until a matter of hours ago, i just assumed this was all for good sex.”

“daft at reading people, you,” niall sighs, shaking his head. “guess that’s my fault though. i know that about you, should have been more honest from the start.”

“me too,” you nod, agreeing. “we all could have been more honest, i think,” you smile softly.

“i’ll start,” louis hums, desperate for some clarity, eyes locked on your hand that had fallen onto his knee, fingertips rubbing his inner thigh over his pants. it was easier to keep his gaze down, scared of your facial reactions as he pours his heart out. the idea of empathetic understanding, no matter what, was still a very new concept. one that would take some practice, to gain the confidence, he assumes. “last time we were all together, we shared a moment, you and i,” he explains, eyes flicking to yours before falling back down to your hand. “it fuckin scared the piss outta me,” he breathes a nervous chuckle.

“why did it scare you ?” you ask quietly, hand squeezing his thigh, as a silent confirmation that he’s safe to speak his mind.

“because i was just going to wind up hurting myself,” louis goes on. “i couldn’t have you the way i wanted you. m’not gonna be your fuckin lap dog,” he chuckles softly, referencing earlier, pulling a little giggle out of you.

“now where’d you go and get an idea like that ?” niall laughs, shaking his head.

“because she’s your fuckin girlfriend,” louis groans. “christ, i want my best mate’s girlfriend,” he sighs, his head tipping back to look up at the ceiling, because this was really happening. “i want my best mate’s girlfriend,” he repeats, “and i want-“ he cuts himself off, eyes squeezing shut. fuck. this is not what he had planned out for his life. this is not what he expected when you asked him to join the two of you that fateful first time.

“i want you too,” niall fills in, hand reaching to grasp louis’, making him look down to both of you, trying to decipher your faces.

“what’s this mean then ?” louis mutters quietly, a bit too scared to say it loudly, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

“i don’t know,” niall answers honestly. “and we don’t have to figure it all out right now. this was a lot, tonight. but now with our real feelings out in the open, we can think about it clearly. think about what we want. talk about it openly.”

niall, thank fuck for niall, always the level headed one. you truly dont know what you would do without him.

“it’s nice that we’re all on the same page,” you pipe up, smiling at both of them, turning a bit towards louis with a smirk.

“what’s that look for ?” louis laughs, his chest feeling so much lighter all of a sudden. the weight he’d been carrying for months finally vanished.

“well, i’d like to kiss you right now, but, you know, don’t wanna make you a cheater,” you giggle, referencing his little outburst from earlier.

“speaking of which,” niall jumps in, playfully scolding louis, “i hear you’re going around choking our girl in random bathrooms.”

louis presses his fingertips into his eyes, trying to stifle a laugh. our girl. christ, how much he loves hearing that. and it all just seems so ridiculous now. especially with how easy the two of you made this talk. “no fuckin clue what got into me. s’like i just knew it would make her stop. fuck, i really don’t know, my mind was going wild,” he answers niall, as best as he could, before turning to you, “wouldn’t be cheating,” he hums with a smirky smile, “after we left the restaurant, i brought her back home. told her i couldn’t see her anymore.”

you bite your lip, eyes locked on louis’, as you can hear niall’s chuckle in the background, “now why would you go and do a thing like that ?”

louis’ gaze flicks to niall’s, a knowingly playful look in his eyes, “because she wasn’t you two,” he hums, fingertips gliding down your cheek to your chin, then up your jaw to cup your neck, “she was nothing like you,” he murmurs.

“told you,” niall smacks your arm playfully, watching the blinding smile take over your features, slight blush rising to your cheeks.

“careful, m’gonna get an ego,” you joke quietly, your heart beating rapidly, because this was fucking finally happening.

“you’ve earned it,” louis whispers, his lips coming up to yours, so close, ghosting breath against your skin, “fuck, i love you,” he murmurs before closing his mouth onto the plushness of your bottom lip.

a soft moan works its way from your chest, fingers instantly reaching up to tangle into louis’ hair. louis’ softest hair. fuck you missed him.

louis pulls away, faster than you would have liked, resting his forehead against yours, catching his breath momentarily. it really didn’t take much for you to render him breathless, something he’d almost forgotten.

the tiny whine doesn’t go unnoticed though, feeling the puff of louis’ breathy giggle against your lips, “just have one little thing i want to do before getting too lost in you.”

your eyebrows furrow, pulling away from him just enough to get a good look at his face, slightly confused, because what else could there be ?

but his gaze turns to niall’s, shuffling himself to be a bit closer to him, leaning in for a kiss.

niall takes no time falling into it, feeling louis’ fist tighten itself in his shirt, right over niall’s chest, muttering into the kiss, “i love you too.”

niall nods as a silent form of acknowledgment, a silent me too, their mouths still attached, too busy revelling into each other. niall’s hand comes up to glide through louis’ hair, gripping at the nape of his neck.

louis pulls away a moment later, looking at the both of you, taking this in. a lot had happened tonight. a lot of the weight he’d been feeling, lifted. a lot of the confusion and stress and panic and overflow of thoughts and emotions, just wiped away. and all of a sudden, he’s tired. feels like the moment after a large comforting meal, when you feel full in the best way, wanting nothing more than to get cozy and have a good sleep.

“look tired, tommo,” niall hums, fingertips gliding over the bags under his eyes, hands falling from his face to pat his thigh, “c’mon, lets get some sleep. think we all need it after tonight.”

“i’ll even let you take the middle,” you smile wide, leading them both up to the bedroom. you really wanted to lay down, you hadn’t noticed the toll this had taken on you until your adrenaline dropped, leaving you downright exhausted.

“i’m fuckin honoured,” louis laughs, lunging right in the middle of niall’s bed, shuffling himself comfortably under the blankets. with his eyes closed, he can feel you sliding in on his left, niall on his right. he can feel himself be saturated in calm happiness, giddy for whatever this new situation holds. excited for what he’ll be waking up to with his two favourite people.

Part 5

……

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tags : @cc-horan28 @acesofspadess @slutforcoffein @blondedmgc @daphnesutton

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 6 months

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Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 26

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 11/13/2023

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: "I don't want to do this."

I lost track of how much time passed as I watched Dieter sleep. My mind was racing through so many thoughts that it overwhelmed me, making it impossible to process anything at all. It was hard to pull myself away from him, but I felt like I needed a few minutes to myself to just…feel. I was relieved when the nurse walked in to check on him, feeling like that was my out. I let her know that we would be in the waiting room if he asked for us. When she turned her attention back to her checklist, I excused myself from the room.

As I walked down the hallway, I took a moment to observe my surroundings. Seeing patients through open doors in various states of critical care was making me feel anxious. The sounds of beeping machines dredging up old memories that I thought I had packed away for good. The pungent smells of antiseptic and fragrances of chemical based cleaners caused my stomach to churn. I hated hospitals and I hated that Dieter was having to go through this experience. I truly hoped that it would at least have a positive outcome so that he could finally get the proper help he needed.

I ducked into a single-user bathroom to have a minute to myself, knowing it would be my only opportunity. After locking the door behind me, I walked over to the sink and gave myself a once over in the mirror. I looked like hell. My air-dried curly hair was now a frizzy mess from my fingers incessantly pulling at it. My eyes were circled in darkness from the lack of sleep, red and swollen from crying. The t-shirt I had quickly thrown on before leaving the house was wrinkled and had a stain on it. No wonder the ER doctor didn’t take my word for it when I said I was fine. I wouldn’t have believed me either.

I tried to smooth my hair down but didn’t get anywhere with it. Luckily, I had a hair tie on my wrist so I could pull it back into a messy bun. I took a minute to splash some warm water over my face. My skin felt sensitive and raw from the salty tears that had fallen, no matter how much I willed them not to. I switched over to cold water for a little shock to my system to try and wake up some. After splashing a few handfuls of the cold water, I stood watching it pool in my cupped hands, allowing it to spill over the sides. I could feel myself disassociating, until the flashes of memories started to break through.

Images of Dieter lying on the floor, his eyes opening briefly as I tried to wake him before they rolled back and closed again. The way he looked lifeless in my lap on the drive to the hospital, with a weakened pulse. The sight of him being pulled from my embrace and loaded onto a gurney surrounded by nurses and doctors as they worked to stabilize him. It was too much, and it was all crashing down on me at once. I had almost lost him because I was too fucking selfish to take the risk and reach out to him when I knew in my gut that something was wrong. I completely ignored it all and focused on being angry at him, just to make myself feel better about the whole situation. Now, I only felt anger toward myself.

I snapped back to the present, letting the water spill from my hands before reaching to turn off the faucet. I placed my wet hands on the back of my neck for a moment, allowing the coldness to soothe the heat radiating through my body. I closed my eyes and took a few measured breaths. Then, I reached for paper towels to dry my hands and face before throwing them in the trash. I placed both palms on the sink, leaning against it with my head down. I closed my eyes again, still taking deep breaths to try and center myself.

When I raised my head and opened my eyes, meeting my reflection in the mirror, I hated the person that I saw. My biggest fear had been losing myself again. I had allowed it to happen without even realizing how the darkness was slowly consuming what little was left of me. The harder I worked to keep it away from me the easier it was for the darkness to stealthily pull me into its numbing embrace. The sad part is, I welcomed it with open arms under the guise that I was doing what I needed to do to move forward and be happy.

For the first time since Dieter ended things, I realized I was slowly turning back into the person I was before him. The person I was when I was with Justin. The scared girl who pretended everything was fine and hid her feelings away out of fear that someone would see how bad things were. I had been conditioned to behave this way to protect Justin and all his wrong doings. I had been conditioned to hide my feelings away so that I wouldn’t realize how unhappy I really was. I could feel the walls starting to crumble down again and I found myself craving a drink but knew I couldn’t go down that road. I knew I needed to get back on track and handle things the correct way, for the sake of myself. I wasn’t going to be able to be there for Dieter unless I finally got my shit together. For real this time. I needed to find better ways to cope and actually process my feelings, rather than lock them away. If I didn’t do this, I knew I would be lost to the darkness forever.

I was drawn away from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I took one last deep breath and moved to leave the bathroom. As I continued my trudge down the hallway, I somehow managed to focus my mind back on the current situation that needed attention, trying to think through the next steps. I wasn’t even sure what those needed to be since I had never dealt with anything like this. This was definitely going to be a team effort.

When I entered the waiting room, I was met with more activity than I expected. Everyone was working to check out various inpatient treatment centers for Dieter. Alex was reaching out to his contacts for feedback while Lauren and Gabby did research on their phones. I immediately joined in. We were determined to find something away from LA that wasn’t one of the upscale places celebrities usually went to that catered to them. He needed to be somewhere that would not treat him any differently than other patients and really focus on helping him get better.

We finally settled on a facility in Tucson, Arizona called Sanctuary Hills that appeared to be promising. It was away from paparazzi central, making it less likely that anything would leak about Dieter being there. It also came highly recommended by Dr. Wilson and several other individuals that Alex spoke with. It would be a long drive, but more than worth it if the place was as good as everyone made it out to be. Once the decision was made, Gabby called to get more information and to get the admission process started.

We did not want to give Dieter the opportunity to change his mind, so Gabby and I planned to drive him directly to the facility once he was discharged from the hospital. Sanctuary Hills was kind enough to send us a list of things that Dieter could and could not bring with him, so I offered to go pack a bag for him on my way home to nap and freshen up. Gabby planned to do the same while Lauren and Alex stayed behind to spend some time with Dieter once he woke up.

When the Uber driver pulled into the driveway of Dieter’s house, I could feel my chest tighten as anxiety set in. Being there after what had happened the previous evening felt odd, almost sort of eerie. It seemed like there was bad energy emitting from the once happy place that I had considered my second home.

As I used Gabby’s key to unlock the front door, I suddenly felt a wave of emotion sweep over me. I could already feel a lump forming in my throat. When I stepped inside and really took in the space for the first time, I realized how much of a mess it was. I had noticed it the night before but didn’t register the severity because I had been focused on helping him. Dieter’s comforter and a pillow, my pillow, were haphazardly laying on the couch. There were old takeout containers randomly sitting around the living room and kitchen, some still containing food that looked like it had hardly been touched. I assumed that was the cause of the questionable smell permeating throughout the house. The TV was laying on its back on the floor with a busted screen. There were empty and broken liquor bottles of all shapes and sizes laying everywhere. Most of the broken bottles were concentrated on the floor under the painting I had left for him, like they had been thrown at the wall. The painting appeared to be untouched, which was oddly comforting to see.

It was difficult to see the physical evidence of how bad he had been hurting. There was no way that I could look at the sight before me and not feel anything. I simply could not pack this away somewhere in my mind and not deal with it. It was too much, but I needed the raw emotional confrontation. This is what finally caused my walls to crumble down, forcing me to feel everything at once. The sadness, betrayal, hurt, pain, anger…all of it. I couldn’t hold back the flood of tears any longer. My vision blurred momentarily before the tears started to fall incessantly. I didn’t even bother to wipe them away as I made my way toward Dieter’s bedroom to start packing a bag for him.

If I thought the living room and kitchen were bad, his bedroom was even worse. The bed was completely torn apart, and the frame broken. The nightstands were turned on their sides and the lamps that once set atop them laid in pieces on the floor. The mirror on the dresser was shattered and the drawers and clothes were thrown across the room. There was a hole in the drywall where the headboard used to be and another beside the bathroom door. It felt like I was having an out of body experience, the scene around me looking like it had been pulled straight from a movie.

I stood there for a time; both of my hands placed over my mouth in shock as I looked around the room. I had a hard time reconciling the thoughts of Dieter causing such destruction. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t a violent person. This was the culmination of his pain finally breaking him. My legs suddenly felt weak at that realization. I sank to the floor, continuing to take it all in as the tears fell freely down my cheeks. It was hard to see a space that held so many wonderful memories of us reduced to a pile of rubble. Maybe it had been even harder for him to be reminded of those memories while it was still intact, a caricature of how things used to be.

I don’t know how much time passed before I finally pulled myself up off the floor. I needed to take a breather. I walked back to the living room, where I noticed Dieter's phone still laying on the floor from where he had dropped it. My car keys were on the floor nearby, where I had apparently dropped them in the midst of my rush to get to him. I leaned down to pick up the keys and phone. I figured Gabby may need some of the contact information from his phone to deal with his work stuff, so I didn’t want to forget it. I walked over and plopped down on the couch before setting the two items down on the coffee table next to one another.

The lock screen of the phone lit up, catching my attention. I picked it up for a closer look, realizing the wallpaper was the infamous picture of us that he had posted on Instagram. Except this was the unedited original. It was in color, uncropped, and not blurred with filters. I had never seen this version of it. It almost broke me to see how happy and content we both looked. Even though Dieter’s head was turned slightly, I could still see the rare spark of happiness in his eyes. The crease that he often had between his brows was smooth. It was hard to remember that for a short time we had been blissfully happy. It seemed so long ago now. I realized that I would give anything to go back to that. We both needed the good times, to experience those rare moments of joy, when things didn’t feel like an uphill battle.

I grabbed the comforter that was halfway hanging onto the floor and wrapped it around me as I laid down onto the couch, phone still clutched in my hand. The scent of Dieter’s cologne surrounded me in a comforting embrace as I continued to examine the picture. A low battery alert appeared on screen. I chuckled to myself, thinking how my battery felt low too. I eventually set his phone back down on the table and drifted off to sleep.

I was jolted awake by my cell phone ringing in my back pocket. When I sat up, I realized it was now dark outside. I had been asleep for longer than I had planned to be. It took me a few seconds to work out where I was as I wiped the sleep from my eyes. I quickly stood and fished the phone out of my pocket to see that it was Gabby calling me. She wanted to check in and see how I was doing and if I needed help with any of Dieter’s things. I didn’t, of course. That was something I wanted to deal with on my own, but I appreciated her offer, nevertheless. It felt good to know that I was not alone in all of this, that this time around there were other people close to Dieter and me who understood what was going on.

Gabby went on to share that Alex had called to say the hospital would be releasing Dieter the following morning. She was planning for us to make the seven-and-a-half-hour drive immediately after picking him up. Then she and I would take a flight back to Los Angeles. It was going to be a long day, but it was worth it if it meant he was going to get the help he needed. We made plans for her to pick me up in a rental car and be ready to go first thing in the morning.

Once Gabby and I hung up, I realized I had a text from Aubrey. I had only just realized that I never called into work that today, so I was surprised I had not heard from her sooner.

Aubrey: Lauren called me last night to let me know what was going on. I hope everything is ok. Please take all the time you need, for the both of you. Keep me updated and let me know if you need anything.

I sighed heavily. I seriously did not deserve her or Lauren. They gave me more grace than I deserved sometimes. I fired off a quick update to Aubrey to let her know that both Dieter and I were doing ok and that I would need a couple of days off. She responded immediately to let me know that would be fine.

Since that was off the “to do” list, I decided to pack Dieter’s bag. I pulled up the list that Gabby had sent to me. He was basically limited to three days’ worth of comfortable clothes and nothing else until they considered him to be fully stable. He couldn’t even have his glasses or contacts, something he was definitely not going to be happy about.

I sent a quick text to Gabby reminding her that Dieter would need a phone list since he couldn’t have his phone. I figured she might have a better idea of who needed to be listed on that and that she would probably have most of their numbers. Then, I made my way to his closet, ignoring the mess in the bedroom as best I could. I found that his closet was completely untouched and still somewhat organized. I noticed that half of it was now empty, which reminded me of the conversation we had about making space to keep some of my things there. He had clearly held up to his word on that and never bothered to change it back. I could feel the lump forming in my throat with that thought. I shook my head, dismissing the memory so I could focus on the task at hand.

I quickly grabbed a pair of his gray workout shorts and two pairs of striped pajama pants (that did not have drawstrings) and three plain t-shirts from the shelves. I found his bright green robe and removed the waist belt before adding it to my stack. I had to dig around to find slip on closed toe shoes that didn’t have any metal or laces on them. At the bottom of his shoe pile, I found a pair of black croc clogs that I had never seen him wear, but it’s what he was getting because it was the only pair I could find that met the requirements. After grabbing some of his boxers and socks, I started looking around for a bag. I eventually came across an extra-large tote bag that could barely hold everything. He wasn’t allowed to bring his own toiletries, so I didn’t have to worry about any of that. I quickly ran through the list again making sure I didn’t miss anything. I made a mental note to double check on the phone list with Gabby and get his medications back from the hospital. Other than that, he couldn’t have anything else.

Before I left Dieter’s house, I collected all the food containers and took out the trash. That was something that needed immediate attention due to the smell alone. The rest would have to wait until I had more time. I wanted to make sure to get everything cleaned up before he came home, whenever that would be. The mess was the last thing he needed to deal with, and he most definitely did not need any reminders of what happened to him.

I collected the tote bag, my phone and Dieter’s, and my car keys before walking out to my car and heading back to my house. After I got home, I gathered a few things I would need for our quick trip, set my alarm, then immediately went to bed. Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for sleep to take me. I was physically and mentally exhausted and I could feel every bit of it.

The morning alarm came quickly. I felt like I had only just dozed off as I sat up in bed, stretching. My head was throbbing, and I could feel that my eyes were still swollen and stinging from all the crying I had done the past two days. I hoped a hot shower would help alleviate the tightness I could feel from the inflammation and ease my aching body. I drug myself up out of bed and took a very long shower. I mostly stood under the hot spray, unmoving, as I stared at the floor. I felt like I needed to mentally prepare myself for whatever the day would bring. I didn’t know what to expect, which left me anticipating all possible outcomes, including the worst-case scenarios. My only hope was that Dieter stayed calm throughout the trip and didn’t change his mind about accepting help before we got him there.

I spent longer than I should have in the shower, causing me to rush around to get ready. Not that I had planned to put a lot of effort into it anyway because it was definitely a messy bun and sunglasses kind of day. I was glad that I had gotten things ready the night before or else I know that I would have ended up forgetting something. Before I knew it, Gabby was pulling into my driveway. When I got into the car, she handed Dieter’s phone list over to me so she would not forget about it. I added it to his bag before I handed over his cell phone to her.

I could tell she was just as anxious as I was from her tight grip on the steering wheel and tense posture. We hardly said a word to each other during the drive to the hospital. Both of us were clearly deep in thought. The way I felt was almost indescribable. I was anxious and my chest felt tight, but in a different way than before. My head was buzzing as the thoughts raced uncontrollably. I felt hopeful, sad, and angry all at the same time. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around how it had actually come to this. It almost didn’t seem real. I was starting to feel disconnected, like I was watching everything from the outside. I knew that probably wasn’t a good thing, but also felt like it might be the only way I could get through today. I would just have to deal with the consequences of it later.

When we arrived at the hospital, we found that Alex was already pushing the discharge process along as best he could. He had spent the night with Dieter so he wouldn’t have to be alone. Alex had to be exhausted since he had been at the hospital the entire time. He had the least amount of sleep out of all of us in the past forty-eight hours, so I knew he was ready to crash. Lauren arrived soon after Gabby and me so that she could take Alex home. She had stopped to get us all coffee and breakfast too, which was very much appreciated by all.

Dr. Wilson briefly met with Gabby and I to give us Dieter’s bag full of medication and to go over paperwork. He gave us copies of everything that Sanctuary Hills would need but indicated they had sent electronic copies as well. He let us know that they gave Dieter a sedative thirty-minutes prior because he was still being uncooperative with staff and exhibiting high levels of anxiety. He noted that it should last about eight hours but included another dose with Dieter’s medication in case it was needed. That was not the news that Gabby and I wanted to hear, but we were appreciative that Dieter was given something to calm him down during the trip. We were hopeful that being with us would help him relax some too.

When we were finally able to make our way to Dieter’s room, we found him sitting on the bed picking at the food Lauren had brought for him. It didn’t look like he had eaten much of it. He seemed a little dazed as he sat in silence staring around the room at nothing. Lauren and Alex gave Gabby and I an apprehensive look as our eyes darted between them and Dieter. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting but I don’t think this was it. I assumed his behavior was like this because the sedative was kicking in, making him feel out of it while dulling the anxiety.

I walked over to stand next to the bed, reaching out to push Dieter’s hair back out of his eyes, which caused him to focus his attention on me for the first time. He knitted his brows together as he stared at me in silence for a moment. Then he reached up to lightly tug on my shirt, pulling me to sit down beside him. I wrapped my right arm around him as I moved to sit closer to him, then reached up to rub the curls at the nap of his neck. He immediately melted into my side and laid his head on my shoulder, his arms tightening around me. I took a stuttered breath as I fought back the tears that were threatening to fall. He was so fucking pitiful, and it was breaking my heart to see him like that.

After several minutes passed and when I eventually felt like I had my emotions under control, I asked Dieter if he wanted to change clothes and get ready to leave. He nodded slowly against my shoulder. Gabby handed him a set of clothes and the crocs I had gotten from his house as he got up to go toward the bathroom. While we waited for him, a nurse came in with the last bit of paperwork for Gabby to sign off on. By the time he came back out, we were ready to go. Gabby went out ahead of us to get the rental SUV and pull it up to the door. The rest of us made our way downstairs, accompanied by two patient care assistants. They kept a close eye on Dieter the whole way, which made me question what he had been doing to the staff that was so “uncooperative”. I felt like they were expecting him to run off or something.

Once Gabby pulled up, we gave Alex and Dieter some space to say their goodbyes. Alex had placed one of his hands around the back of Dieter’s neck, pulling their foreheads close together as he talked quietly to his older brother. Something about the sight caused Gabby, Lauren, and I to immediately tear up. The intense emotional look that passed between the two of them said so much. Dieter tightly nodded along to whatever his brother was saying before they pulled each other into a warm embrace. After a quick hug from Lauren, Dieter crawled into the back seat of the SUV. He stared at me wide-eyed and unblinking with his sad puppy dog eyes, seeming to be asking a question without words. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile before climbing in to sit next to him as he scooted to the other side.

Dieter sat wringing his hands and staring down at the floor as we waited for Gabby to finish filling Alex in on our plans for the day. I reached over to grab his left hand and he visibly relaxed some. He glanced over at me with a tight smile before turning to stare out the window. He still looked paler than normal. Seeing him in his own clothes made it more apparent that he had lost some weight, which added to his frail appearance. I knew the current sight of him would haunt my dreams for weeks to come.

Soon after we got on the road, I noticed Dieter was having a hard time keeping his eyes open as he leaned his head against the window.

I gave his hand a small squeeze as I eyed him, “You ok?”

“Those fucking drugs they gave me are making it hard to stay awake,” he said flatly without looking my way.

I started rubbing small circles on his hand with my thumb, “Do you wanna lay down?”

His eyes locked with mine in an intense stare, like he was surprised at my words. I moved to grab a small blanket and pillow from behind the seat that Gabby had brought for him. I handed him the blanket and placed the pillow in my lap as he watched me intently. I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt like I was dealing with a scared feral animal from the look he was giving me. I didn’t want to spook him, but I also wanted to make sure I was there for him in the ways he needed. I reached toward him and motioned with my hand for him to lay down. He moved to get comfortable the best he could in the small space, folding his body to fit and putting his head in my lap. He sighed deeply, eyes closing as he tried to make himself comfortable. Once he was situated, I started running my fingers through his hair and lightly scratching at his scalp. It wasn’t long before his breathing changed to deep steady breaths as he fell asleep.

The drive was long and quiet. I could occasionally feel Gabby’s eyes on me in the rearview mirror as I watched Dieter sleep. My thoughts were still quickly cycling through every second of our time together, trying to figure out when things started to get so bad. I had a feeling Gabby could see everything I was feeling written on my face during that drive. She never questioned it though. There were times that I glanced her way and she seemed to be just as deep in thought as I was.

About four hours into the trip, Gabby asked if we should stop for food. Since Dieter was still sleeping, we decided to push through the drive without stopping. I got the feeling that she wanted to get this whole process over with as soon as possible, leaving little room for interruptions or complications. I couldn’t blame her since I was feeling the same way, along with the nagging feeling that the worst part was still to come.

It turns out, I was right. By the time we reached Sanctuary Hills, the sedative was wearing off. Dieter had woken up about twenty minutes before we got to the facility, and I could tell his anxiety was ramping up. It started with his fingers twitching, and the restless moving of his legs, until he eventually sat up in his seat. His eyes began to drift across everything he could see in the car. Eventually the outside caught his attention as he started to fidget more and wring his hands together again. He refused to take the other pill that Dr. Wilson had sent with us because he was tired of sleeping and how the drug was making him feel.

As we pulled into the parking lot, Dieter’s eyes fixated on the building while he roughly scratched at his chin. I grabbed his hand to make him stop in hopes it would calm him down some. Gabby and I exchanged worried glances in the rearview mirror as she unbuckled her seatbelt. Gabby and I got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Gabby pulled Dieter’s door open. He sat staring at me, wide-eyed. He looked terrified. I gave him a tight smile as I reached out my hand for his. He finally relented and took it as he got out. He shuffled slowly behind me as we walked toward the entrance. Gabby grabbed his bag out of the back and quickly caught up to us.

Once we entered the facility, Dieter stood closely at my side with a tight grip on my left hand as he chewed on the thumbnail of his free hand. His head was down, but his eyes were scanning over everything in sight. I tried my best to sooth him and keep him calm while Gabby worked to complete the check in process, occasionally asking him questions for the paperwork she was filling out. He answered quietly, in a barely audible voice, never removing his thumb from his mouth to speak.

One of the ladies helping with the check in process started to go through Dieter’s bag to check for “contraband” and ensure all of the items were in compliance with the regulations. As she was checking everything, she asked him if he had any jewelry or a cell phone that he needed to turn over to us before Gabby and I left. I felt Dieter tense beside me as his energy changed, from anxious to almost hostile. When I turned to look at him, I could see the panic and anger flashing in his eyes. The inevitable meltdown was finally happening.

“My phone? You mean I don’t get to keep my fucking phone? No. I didn’t agree to that.”

He started shaking his head frantically from side to side as he backed away from me. I calmly walked over to him and placed both of my hands on his face, softly stroking his patchy beard, in an attempt to calm him as he continued to ramble on.

“How am I supposed to call you without my phone? What if I need you? This place is like a fucking prison. I don’t want to do this.”

“Dieter, listen to me.”

He finally paused his movements as he stared directly into my eyes. What I saw there made me feel like someone was carving my heart out of my chest with a rusted spoon. I have no idea how I managed to hold it together, but I did.

“You can’t have your phone, but you can use theirs. You have a set phone time to call us. They want you to focus on getting better, so you can’t keep it with you.”

“A set phone time? I only have your number memorized. Not the others.”

I was momentarily taken off guard by his admission, feeling more emotional than I already had been if that were possible. He obviously wasn’t thinking rationally right now. This wouldn’t be an issue for most people, but Dieter was used to always having his phone to stay connected with those he cared about. It was understandable the absence of that connection would upset him.

“Gabby made you a list of phone numbers so you can call us. It’s in your bag.”

This answer didn’t seem to dampen his anxiety in the slightest, “But I can only call during certain times? What if you don’t answer and I can’t call back?”

“I’ll answer. I promise… and if you need anything between calls, your case worker can call for you if it isn’t something that can wait.”

I could see the tears brimming in his eyes as he continued to stare at me, a pleading expression on his face - either about the phone, his stay, or something else entirely. I was not sure. I tried to keep my face neutral for his sake, but I knew I was failing. My brows drew down together without my permission as my vision blurred slightly from my own tears. He lowered his head and turned away from me, his shoulders shaking slightly from his shallow breathing. He started to clench and unclench his hands at his sides as he moved further away. I quickly wiped at my eyes and glanced over at Gabby and the ladies behind the front desk. They were all staring at the two of us with worry and concern in their eyes. I took a deep breath before walking over to Dieter, pulling him away from the onlookers and enveloping him into a tight hug. I could feel his fingers knotting in the back of my shirt as he spoke through his tears into my neck. “I’m so fucking terrified to do this and I don’t want you to leave me.” I could feel his grip tighten further as he quietly added, “We didn’t get any time to fix things.”

I gently ran my fingers through the back of his hair, “Don’t worry about that, I’ll be right here when you’re done. We can talk about it later. I want you to focus on yourself right now. When you’re better, you’re coming home to me, ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

He slowly pulled back to meet my eyes. He seemed determined now as he searched my face.

“I don’t want to spend another night away from you after this.”

I gave him a genuine smile before leaning my forehead against his and closing my eyes to savor the feeling of him, trying to memorize every little bit of him that I could. I felt a tentative hand cupping my cheek as I opened my eyes to look up at him again. I leaned into his gentle touch, for the first time in months. I had missed it so much more than I realized. I couldn’t help myself. I reached up and entwined my fingers with his hand on my cheek before pulling them to rest between us. I used my other hand to pull him toward me and gently placed a kiss on his lips.

The way his face lit up as a few more tears slid down his cheeks made my heart clench. He didn’t hesitate to reach up with both hands and pull me in for a second and third kiss before briefly resting his forehead against mine, the physical intimacy that we had to do without for months seeming to ground him a little. He took a deep steady breath as he backed away. “Alright, let’s get this shit over with.”

Dieter’s mood shift was surprising and also a relief. He seemed to be having a moment of clarity, which I took full advantage of as I pulled him over toward Gabby so that he could help her finish with his paperwork. Things went much faster after that than I expected. Before we knew it, we were saying our goodbyes. He didn’t let go of my hand until he absolutely had to. He still looked sad, but seemed in better spirits than he was when he arrived. I was thankful for that since it made it more bearable for everyone involved.

Gabby and I had to hurry to catch our flight. We had just enough time to turn in the rental and grab a small snack as we rushed through the airport. We didn’t talk much on our way home. The topic of her brother seemed to be off limits for the both of us, as an unspoken agreement. We were both so drained from the events of the last few days that we needed a break from it. I could tell she was appreciative of having me there though. It was obvious in the small smiles and gentle hand squeeze she would randomly give me during our journey.

By the time I finally made it back to my house, I was running on empty. It was late and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed, but I somehow mustered up the energy to take a quick shower to wash the day of travel away. After that, it didn’t take long before I was out.

In the days that followed, I spent my time cleaning up the disaster that was Dieter’s house. I ended up having his bedroom furniture hauled off since several pieces were broken. It wasn’t worth the effort to try and fix them. Once that project was done, I didn’t have much else to do besides work and I did that from home. I did make an effort to spend time with Gabby and Lauren when I felt up to it. I felt it was important to work on my relationship with them since I had been so absent recently, and I didn’t want to risk isolating myself again as I was trying to cope with things.

After a week had passed, nothing could take my mind off the fact that Dieter hadn’t called me. I was worried that he was starting to realize how badly I had handled this whole situation on my end. He was the one that ended things, but I had made zero effort to fight for us. I had let him go like it was nothing. I would expect him to be hurt by that. Gabby assured me that he hadn’t called because he was having a hard time coming off of his medication and wasn’t feeling up to much phone time. What little he had called to speak with her was to get things sorted out for work and those conversations only lasted a few minutes. She said it was obvious by the way he sounded that he wasn’t feeling well. The case worker told Gabby that he was having some withdrawal symptoms after the first few days of decreasing his medication dosages and he was having a hard time with it. I knew that was most likely the case, but that still didn’t keep the doubts from creeping in, imagining worst case scenarios.

It was nearly two weeks after we had dropped Dieter off at Sanctuary Hills when I got a surprise visit from Alex. He awkwardly greeted me as he walked through the doorway carrying a very large parcel wrapped in brown paper. I eyed it quizzically as he maneuvered it into the living room.

“What is this?”

“Dieter asked me to bring this to you that night I stayed with him at the hospital. I’m sorry, I’m just now getting around to it. He sent a not so polite reminder through Gabby about it yesterday.”

“I take it you haven’t talked to him either then?”

Alex sighed as he shook his head, “No, not yet. Gab said he’s still kind of a mess right now because of the medication changes. She mostly talks to his case worker, I think.”

I nodded in understanding. Knowing that he hadn’t reached out to Alex either did offer some reassurances that it wasn’t just me. It hurt me beyond words to know that he was having such a hard time with the medication changes. I hoped, for his sake, that it did not last much longer.

Alex moved to hand me the large parcel he was holding. I took it as I gave him a questioning look. I noticed his eyes lit up slightly before he gave me a smirk.

“It’s the painting from the art fundraiser.”

I knitted my brows together as I took it from him, ripping the front of the paper to reveal the painting that had turned me into an emotional mess that night. Once I had it completely unwrapped, I set it against the wall and stepped back to look at it. I realized there was something very familiar about the two figures.

More after the image

I turned to Alex, who still had the same smirk on his face, “I don’t understand. How did he know about the painting?”

His smirk slowly turned into a wide smile, “He painted it. He wanted to surprise you with it that night, but obviously that didn’t work out…”

I put my hand to my mouth, gasping audibly. Now I understood the reason I felt drawn to it that night. The two figures were us. I could feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, threatening to make their escape.

“I don’t understand, when did he have time to do this? We were together constantly before he left for Canada.”

Alex moved to stand next to me, “He started it right after he got back from New York. He took a break when he went to film that movie in Mallorca but picked it up again when he got back…before he found you again.”

I chuckled in disbelief, “Well this certainly adds a whole other layer of feelings that I wasn’t expecting.”

“I know he did a lot of it at night, when he couldn’t sleep. He told me he couldn’t get you out of his head. I’m pretty sure he fell in love with you that first night you spilled your drink all over him. He wouldn’t stop talking about you, so I encouraged him to look you up. I don’t think I’ve ever in my life seen him so nervous to do something,” Alex let out a small laugh at the memory.

I didn’t even try to hold the tears back after that. How could I? It said so much about Dieter’s feelings. Alex glanced over at me, realizing my emotional state. He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in for a gentle side hug.

“This is the first painting he’s done in years…just so you know. You definitely woke up something inside of him. We could all see it. I really hope you two can make it work once he gets out of that place. I think you’re good for each other.”

I was taken aback by Alex’s candor regarding his brother. His words were so unexpected given how quiet and shy he always was around me. I appreciated the fact that he felt comfortable enough to open up to me some.

“I’m not sure how much I’m supposed to tell you, but fuck it, you should know. The nickname he gave you, and that phrase… la estrella del norte, la luz en la oscuridad…that’s something our mother used to say to our father. So, to me and Gabby, it’s a big deal that he used that. We’ve never heard him say it to anyone before.”

I couldn’t help the way my face scrunched up at his words. I was one hundred percent about to ugly cry. I put my hand over my eyes to hide it as Alex pulled me in for a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said into the top of my hair.

“No, I’m not upset. This is a happy cry. It’s just…touching, I guess. I didn’t know that. This is a lot of information to take in and process. Thank you for telling me. I really needed this right now.”

Alex backed away and gave both of my shoulders a gentle squeeze and offered a small smile.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Let Lauren know when you're free and feeling up to it and we can grab some dinner, yeah?”

I nodded and gave him a small smile as I walked him to the door.

After Alex left, I sat down on the floor in front of the painting, taking in every paint stroke. To the casual observer, it was probably just a nice painting of a couple in an embrace under the night sky. I, however, understood the subtle symbolism of the fog and darkness that surrounded the man, but not the woman and the bright star placed just above the woman in the background. The fact that something so simple could say so much was amazing to me. It had me feeling every emotion all at once.

I could not believe the origin of the nickname he had given me, or that he had started working on the painting well before he found me again. I always felt like there was more to the name, but I was not expecting that. He obviously had strong feelings toward me from the start. Looking back, I could no longer justify my reasoning for not being with him from the beginning. I hated that we had missed out on all of that time together.

I had a lot of thoughts swirling through my head that evening. I spent more time than I probably should have staring at that painting, but it was forcing me to process things that I had been avoiding. By the time I finally pulled myself up from the floor, I was mentally and physically exhausted. I went to bed after that and suffered through a night of restless sleep.

Sixty days after Dieter entered Sanctuary Hills, Gabby received a call from him, after mostly only communicating with his case worker over the past two months. He asked her to attend an in-person family counseling session there at the facility. She immediately agreed and got it scheduled. The day it happened; I was an anxious mess while I awaited news about the visit. He still hadn’t called me, or anyone else for that matter. We didn’t really understand why, but his case worker assured us that he was making progress and doing well. He was trying hard to focus on getting better and working through things a little at a time. He was very focused on his healing journey and doing everything that was asked of him. It was hard for me to understand it, being so far away and consumed by worries, but I was proud of him just the same. I was excited to know he was finally requesting to see his family and was hopeful that was a positive sign.

As it got later into the evening, I was beginning to get concerned since I hadn’t heard from Gabby yet. She had promised to call when she left Sanctuary Hills. I sent her a few texts but did not get a response. I was about to try giving her a call when I heard a knock at the door. I was surprised to see that it was Gabby. The look on her face made my stomach drop. The fact that she hadn’t called and was now showing up with this look on her face couldn’t be a good sign. There was no greeting. She jumped right to the point, “Talia, I’m sorry to just show up, but can we talk? I don’t know who else to talk about this with and I need to talk about it.”

“Yeah, come in.”

We both walked over and sat on the couch. My hands were already fidgeting as the nerves and anticipation quickly built up. Every scenario running through my mind was scary and I wasn’t sure I could handle whatever it was she was about to say. Gabby immediately burst out into sobs. I pulled her into a hug as I tried to suppress my own panic.

“Gabby, I need for you to tell me what’s going on before I have a fucking stroke over here,” I said into her hair. She sighed heavily before pulling away to look at me.

“Dieter told me what happened that night, with mom. I wasn’t prepared for it. I can’t believe he kept that to himself all these years and it fucking kills me that I didn’t do more to support him in dealing with it. I didn’t know he was the one who found her. I always thought it was one of the workers.”

Her sobs continued as I digested her words. I felt instant relief that it wasn’t something worse, something I didn’t know of yet, but at the same time my heart broke for her. I know it had to be hard for her to hear. Hell, it was hard for me to hear.

“I’m sorry, no one else knows about it. I didn’t know who else I could talk to about it. He told me that you knew… I just needed a minute to fall apart and process it before I go home.”

“Hey, take all the time you need. I know it’s a lot to digest,” I said as I rubbed gentle circles on her back.

“I just wished he would have opened up sooner and shared that burden with me. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten so bad if he had. I should have tried harder to make him talk to me about it.”

“Gabby, I don’t think it would have mattered what you said to him. He wasn’t gonna talk until he was ready.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I just feel terrible that I didn’t know. I don’t think anyone did. I bet dad didn’t even know.”

After a few minutes of silence, she seemed to pull herself together. She reached over to grab my free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as she smiled up at me.

“He looks so good though…healthy and alert. I really think the treatment is helping. He’s expressing his feelings so well…I - I’m honestly not sure I’ve ever heard him talk that much about how he feels.”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face as happy tears slid down my cheeks.

“He said he’s gonna call you soon. He’s nervous to talk to you for some reason and embarrassed about this whole thing. I told him he didn’t need to be, but you know how he is. He misses you though, I could tell. I lost track of how many times he asked about you.”

I reached up with both hands to wipe the tears from my face. It was comforting to know that he was thinking about me. I knew it was selfish of me to think that way because he should be focusing on himself, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel better about things.

Gabby didn’t share much more of what they had talked about. Some of it was things he wanted to talk to me about himself, so I didn’t want to push for more details. Once she finally felt composed, she left for home. She had had a long day of travel and was exhausted.

She and I had gotten so close in the last two months. We had been spending a lot of our free time together, along with Lauren and Alex. It truly felt like I was part of a family with them. I loved that she was now comfortable enough with me to share her feelings openly. It was something we had all been doing since Dieter had been away. Even Alex had opened up more. Even though what had happened to Dieter was devastating, there was a silver lining in it. It had brought us all closer together. We were stronger for it and ready to welcome him home to all the support he could possibly need.

The next morning, I had just finished making a quick breakfast when my cell phone started ringing. When I glanced over at the illuminated screen, I saw it was a Tucson, Arizona number. I had waited two months to see this number appear on the screen. My breath immediately caught in my throat as my eyes teared up. I briefly hesitated to answer as the nerves took hold. After a deep breath I hit the answer button and raised the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Talia?”

A/N: Y'all still with me? How are you feeling after that one? Progress? Maybe? As I have said before, digital art is not one of my strengths, but hopefully what I attempted to do gives you an idea of what I see in my head for Dieter's painting. Again, this one looks better in my head too. LOL! Wasn't that a sweet moment between Talia and Alex though? Also, that moment between Dieter and Alex hit me in the feels too. Then of course, the whole of the Dieter and Talia interactions in this chapter. Poor Gabby... now she knows everything. So many feels in this one! Aaaahhh!😭 Next chapter our dear Dieter and Talia will be reunited in a controlled setting to work through their issues together. It will probably be another rough one. We will get Dieter's official diagnosis and with that you will get a Deconstructing Dieter Bravo post. We will get some details on Talia's past which will also include a Today's Musings post for supplemental reading. So, you will get all sorts of goodies with the next chapter. 😉 In case you missed it, I have included the mood board for this chapter below. Last but not least, a huge thank you to my wonderful beta, @for-a-longlongtime. Seriously, it wouldn't be as good without her feedback. As always, please share your thoughts and theories. You know I'm a sucker for them. 💜

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#dieter bravo #dieter x ofc #dieter bravo fic #Destiny & Deliverance Series #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x ofc #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro Pascal Fanfic #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo fluff #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction

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storiesofleftoverghosts · 4 months

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I Remember Everything || Leon Kennedy

pairings: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

warnings: hurt/no comfort, breaking up, alcoholism, semi-toxic relationship, Leon hates himself, reader has alcoholic father, no y/n is used.

word count: 2182

requested: nope!

a/n: i'm a yapper so this is gonna be long LMFAO. honestly i didn't have any specific leon in mind when i wrote this so... anyway i recently gave y'all fluff but i think it's time for angst. this is very heavily inspired by "I Remember Everything" by Zach Bryan and Kacey Musgraves. even if you don't like country, i'd recommend listening to it while reading this.

Sitting in a dive bar on a Wednesday night had become Leon's sense of normal over the years. It didn’t matter the day actually. If he wasn't on some life threatening mission for the government who didn't care about his well-being, he was at the bar. It was pathetic. He knew that better than anybody. Men his age were married and drinking with their friends. Some had at least two kids by now. He couldn't help but think of how he could have had that with you.

If only he didn't ruin everything he fucking touched. Maybe you both would be happy right now if he hadn't crossed paths with you.

Nursing his whiskey glass, he sipped on the caramel colored liquid. Rot gut whiskey usually helped ease his mind on nights like this. He didn’t enjoy how awful it tasted, but it was his choice of poison. It’s what he deserved, right? The cheap liquor burnt going down, and the aftertaste made him want to gag. Reality had seemed to be the thing he had trouble swallowing the most in the moment.

Memories of you had begun to trickle back into his mind as he continued to drink. Was it too much to ask the universe to cut him some slack for one god damn night? He thought about you enough as it is when he was sober.

He was specifically thinking about one of the first dates you both had gone on. Driving home in your old pick up truck from the beach with the windows down. Sitting in the passenger seat gave him the best view. The summer breeze danced with your hair as the sun seemed to highlight all of his favorite features on you. Your smile somehow was brighter than the sun as you sang along to some cheesy pop song on the radio. Beautiful wasn’t even a word that could cover how he thought of you in the moment. Emotions he thought he would never feel again overwhelmed him, and before he knew it, warm tears had begun to form in the corner of his eyes.

“Are you crying babe?” You had asked while turning down the radio. Concern was written all over your features. Sometimes you gave him a run for his money with how observant you were. His piercing blue eyes were glossed over before he turned his attention to whatever was passing outside the window. Quickly he cleared his throat as heat creeped up the back of his neck.

“Yeah. You still got sand in your hair and it blew into my eyes.” Both of you knew it was an excuse, but you didn’t pry any deeper into the subject. You had learned your lesson about trying to make Leon communicate his emotions with you. Besides, he had the mentality that grown men don’t cry. How could he explain that he was crying out of joy and in awe of your beauty? Thinking of explaining that had made him cringe at the time.

God he used to give you so much shit about that truck. It was on the older side, and he had offered multiple times to get you a new one. But you were too stubborn and would shoot the offer down. That truck was your pride and joy. Now he would give anything to drive around with you in that pick up truck one more time.

Another memory seemed to taunt him and rub salt into his open wound. Late night talks sitting on your beatdown basement couch together, your head in his lap as he played with your hair. You’d tell him stories about your family, like when your mother had run off from your father and pawned her wedding ring. Something about how she couldn’t take your fathers drinking anymore. His soothing fingers running through your hair would comfort you, and he swore to you that he’d never turn out like that.

It tore him up to think how he wouldn’t be the man that he always swore to you he would be.

Glass clinking snapped him out of his pity party. Another whiskey glass was in front of him. The bartender gave him a small nod before focusing his attention on another patron. Leon bit the inside of his lip once he realized the man hadn't even had to ask Leon if he wanted another one. He had grown used to Leon's company in that same damn barstool he sat in every time. Knowing that only made Leon sink deeper into his self hatred. His eyes flicked down to the drink before lifting it to his lips, and took another drink.

The bitter taste of the alcohol paired with a cheesy pop song in the background, the same one you blasted all the time, brought one final bitter memory to him. When he broke up with you, or more like when you broke up with him. Funny enough, it happened right here at the same bar, at the same barstool. He might have been wasted when it happened, but he remembered everything about that night.

You had come into the bar looking for him one night. The bar was almost closed so when he heard the door open, it had caught his attention. The moment his eyes laid eyes on you, he knew he was in deep shit. You were constantly telling him how you refused to step foot in a bar. Going as far to say you’d rather eat glass than be around the smell of alcohol and alcoholics. Normally he’d remind you that not everyone who went to a bar was an alcoholic, but here he was, proving your point. There was practically a trailblaze of fire behind you as you stomped your way toward him. Steam was leaving your ears and he began to mentally prepare himself for what was about to happen.

“What the hell Leon?!” Glaring at him, you crossed your arms. Anger was practically dripping off your tone. Empty glasses were sitting around him. He couldn’t meet your gaze which only pissed you off more. You hadn’t heard from him in days. Three fucking days to be exact. You knew he hadn’t been sent off to do a mission. He would always give you a kiss goodbye and promise he’d make it back to you. Now you were questioning if his promises meant anything.

“Don’t do this here. Just let me finish this drink, and we can go do this.. somewhere else.” His disinterested voice slurred as he traced the rim of his glass. You felt your blood begin to boil. A teensy tiny part of you felt bad for him. Leon had seen horrific things, not that he would give you the full picture of things. It didn’t take a genius to know that Leon was a broken man. But you didn't care about that.

For the past couple of months, he had been acting cold towards you. Less and less would he tell you how much he loved you. His fuse was shorter with you, and most of the time you guys were arguing about stupid things. It felt like you were constantly walking on eggshells around him. No matter how much you tried to talk to him about the issues in your relationship, he ignored you. Ignorance was bliss was his mindset about things like this. Not to mention, you had noticed he had been drinking more heavily. Stumbling to your place late at night, too drunk to even stand correctly had become something that happened at least three times a week. You couldn’t stand alcohol and he knew it. Not answering you for three days was the final straw for you.

“No, fuck that! We’re gonna do this here,” You slammed your hands down on the bar. For a moment that seemed to have gotten his attention before he returned back to his unbothered facade. Your hands were stinging from how hard you had slammed down.

“You’re drinking everything in sight to ease your mind, but just when the hell are you gonna help ease mine? Do you know how fucking worried I’ve been?!” You yelled at him, clenching your jaw.. Leon rolled his eyes and shook his head. Luckily there was only one person at the bar, the bartender. The bartender took it as a sign to go get more stock.

“Did ya think that maybe you’re the reason I’m drinkin’? All you do is bitch at me all the time. It’s…It’s like nails on a chalkboard every time I hear you talk.” He waved a finger at you. His pupils were dilated, and you could smell the alcohol coming off of him. His drunken words stung, and there was a flash of hurt written on your face. Even when you two were arguing, he never talked to you like this. Guess strange words come out of a grown man’s mouth when his mind’s broken.

“Are you being serious right now?” Your voice broke towards the end of your sentence. He didn’t respond, and only stared at you like you were an idiot. The audacity he had to say that astounded you. Drunk words were a sober man’s thoughts or however the saying went. You were reminded of the way your father would talk to your mom, and a feeling of disgust washed over you. The man you loved was starting to become like the man you hated. Your anger dissipated as tranquility took its place. You knew what you had to do.

“You know what? I’m done.” You had sounded so unbothered as you removed your hands from the bar. Like if you were talking about the state of the weather and not ending your relationship. Leon raised an eyebrow. Did he hear you right? Were you doing what he thought you were doing?

“I love you and I understand you have your issues. But I have enough self respect for myself to realize I deserve better than being treated like garbage.” Hearing your words seemed to sober him up. He quickly got off the barstool, stumbling a little as he did. You watched him with a strange look in your eyes. Looking back at it now, he realized that it was a look of pity.

“Baby. You don’t mean that.” He chuckled before searching your face for any signs that you were joking. Much to his dismay, your lips were pressed in a thin line. He reached out to try and grab your hands but you had pulled them away. Your eyes were devoid of that warmth you usually had whenever he looked into them. That’s when it hit him that he had fucked up for the last time.

“Do me a favor and call yourself a cab. Seems like the bars’ closing soon.” A disappointed sigh managed to escape from you as you turned away. Part of you wanted to personally drive him home but that would only hurt you in the long run. These were the consequences of his actions. That’s what you had to tell yourself as he began to plead you to stay.

“Please don’t do this. Can’t you just stay? Please love, don’t leave me.” He called out to you. He would have begged you to stay till the sun rose, you knew that. You’ve never heard someone sounding so desperate, let alone Leon sounding so desperate. Maybe it was how much alcohol he had consumed. Maybe it was the fact that he knew he was losing you. It made you hesitate for a moment but you continued to walk.

Deep down you knew if you stayed, you wouldn’t be able to leave. It would be a never ending restless cycle of Leon getting drunk and saying hurtful shit, you wanting to leave, him begging you not to, etc. You weren’t going to be like your mother. Desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as you finally stepped out of the bar, disappearing into the night and his life.

“Time to go home. Bar’s closed.” The bartender told him which snapped him out of his thoughts once last time. It didn’t feel like that much time had passed since he was given another drink, but the time on his watch proved him wrong. When it came to you he always lost track of time. Every time he sat down on this barstool he thought about you. Why he had kept coming back here, he didn’t know. Mostly it was a way of punishing himself. For letting you walk away and being too much of a coward to not change for you.

He paid his tab and left a tip for the bartender. Mumbling a good night, he made his way out the door. The cool night air felt nice against his flushed skin, yet it only made him miss you more. Cursing out his brain for the painful reminder, he called a cab before waiting for it to come.

God he wished he didn’t but he did remember every moment (the good and the bad) on those summer nights with you.

#leon kennedy x reader #re leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #reader insert #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy angst #angst fic #elliessodashop

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year

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You Drew Stars Around My Scars | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi. This is some heavy shit, so please proceed with caution. Do not read this fic if you are made uncomfortable by any of the warnings.

Thanks <3

❌Warnings❌ Scars, blood, depression, anxiety, self-harm, suicidal ideation / attempt

“And what about this one?” Bucky asked, dragging his lips across one of your scars. It rested along your ribcage, drawing a sharp line into your skin. It wasn’t sensitive anymore, didn’t hurt like it used to. But Bucky’s lips assuaged any lingering discomfort.

You ran a finger over the raised tissue and let out a laugh. “Oh, that was a huge misunderstanding, actually. Have you ever met that guy in the red suit? With the katanas?”

Bucky’s gaze left your scar and drifted up to your face. “Katanas? As in more than one katana?”

“Yeah! His name’s Wade… something,” you paused, struggling for the eccentric stranger’s name. “Wade Williams… or something like that. Anyway, yeah, he got me with one of his multiple katanas. But it was really just a communication issue- Hill sent me after him. SHIELD had basically no intel on the guy and it was assumed that he was a threat- but he’s on our side.”

Over the course of his life, Bucky had seen some strange things. Red Skull. Infinity Stones. A talking raccoon. But never a guy running around with a couple of katanas and bright red suit. “So, katana guy is a friend of ours?”

“Yeah! And he’s actually pretty cool. A little weird. Very funny. Kind of a sarcastic asshole,” you laughed. “I think you’d like him.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and brushed his lips over your scar once more. “I don’t know about that- he stabbed my best girl-”

“He didn’t stab me, per se…”

Bucky made a mental note to look into this Wade guy, see if he could be trusted.

“Okay," you said, "it's your turn…” Another round of the game began.

For almost an hour, the two of you had laid in bed, asking about the other’s scars. You never dared ask Bucky about his scars or how he got them; their origins were too terrible to describe. If he decided to open up about them one day, that was his business. And you were more than happy to give him all the time and space he needed.

But it was Bucky who started the game. After you both came down from your post-sex euphoria, you decided to stay in bed. Kissing. Touching. Talking. Bucky ran his hand along a scar near your shoulder, the one he always noticed but knew nothing about. And though he didn’t want to hear tales of you getting hurt, he still held a curiosity about your life before him. He wanted every detail, every story. And so, he’d asked about the scar. And to his relief, it didn’t come from a knife or a gun- just a childhood game of tag that got out of hand.

But his question opened the door. He promised he didn’t mind speaking about his scars- not to you. He argued that it was only fair. He asked you about yours- why shouldn’t you be allowed to ask about his? He wanted to share every detail of his life with you. The details he could remember, anyway. And so, the two of you went back and forth, asking the other for the stories behind your scars.

Bucky learned more about you, and you him. But you didn’t bring up the massive ridge of twisted tissue on Bucky’s left side- you knew that story. And hearing it again would’ve gutted you.

“Hmm…" your eyes drifted over Bucky's body, "how about…”

There were too many to choose from. You hated how many options lay scattered across Bucky’s skin; each reminder of his past life spelled trauma, pain, abuse. But a new light seemed to flash in Bucky’s eyes each time he told you a story. He’d never let anyone tour his body like this. Had never opened up about all the vile things Hydra did to him. Each story unburdened him a bit more, helped him release the pain he’d been holding on to for so long. And you were more than happy to help shoulder the weight.

Your fingers ghosted along a jagged scar near his hip, “Okay, how about this one?”

“That one- that one is…” Bucky thought for a long, quiet moment. The holes in his memory acted like a sieve, draining most of his past life from his mind. You watched as he struggled, fought to remember this exact wound. His brow furrowed as he searched through the catalogue of his trauma. He flipped through page after mental page, reliving every instant of pain. And then, the light returned to his eyes.

“Oh- I remember now. I got shot- and one of my handlers cut the bullet out while I was still in the field. Sewed it up- albeit, poorly.” He ran a finger along the uneven line of scar tissue, “And then they sent me after my target again. If I remember right, which I probably don’t…” He gave a sad laugh, “I’m pretty sure the stitches ripped almost instantly. I mean, maybe sixty seconds after he finished. So I just kinda bled until I took down my mark.”

“Jesus, baby…” Every story he told pulled you closer to his side. You wanted to cover him, to protect him from things that already happened. Things you couldn’t help or prevent. Every mention of his misery, every recollection of the abuse made you wish you’d met him sooner. Maybe you could’ve helped. Maybe you could’ve saved him.

You rested your head against his chest, willing the thoughts of Bucky’s pain to dissipate. But they refused to comply. And Bucky, always more concerned about your pain than his, took notice.

“Hey, I’m okay now,” Bucky curled a finger under your chin and tilted your face up toward his. “Don’t get sad on me, alright?” He shot you his biggest smile, ‘I’m just fine. And I’m here- with you.”

You gave him a solemn nod. “No, I know. I’m just… you didn’t deserve it, Buck. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He took your face in his hands and gazed into your big, sad eyes. He never thought he’d find someone like you- never thought he’d find someone, period. But you had a big heart, and you loved him with everything you had. You showed him how much you cared. Made him feel like he mattered.

“I know that now. You helped me with that.”

A small smile pricked at the corners of your lips. You wanted to fix everything for him. Take away his pain, remedy his problems, shoulder the weight of his nightmarish past. But you couldn’t. And the helplessness it planted in you made your chest ache. But knowing you’d at least helped Bucky see himself differently eased a fraction of the pain.

“Alright, my turn!” Before you had a chance to think, Bucky was on top of you. He tickled and poked at your sides, shunning the sadness from your eyes. And when he was satisfied with your improved mood, he rested a hand on your thigh. The scar he selected rested above your knee, its border faded. “This one?”

“That’s from a burn,” you told him. “Explosion at a Hydra base- I got a lot of burns that day, actually.” As the memory of that day resurfaced, you ran a hand over where the searing pain used smolder under your skin, “All the others healed, this is the only one that scarred.”

Bucky swept his thumb over it a few times, as though trying to ease your past pain.

You sat up, coming face to face with Bucky. The scar you had your eye on was something you wondered about often. And now that you had permission to ask, you ran you lips over the mark. “What about this one?” The long scar ran along the side of his neck, beginning a few inches above his clavicle. It traveled horizontally, nearly reaching the back of his neck. “And this one?” And identical scar rested just on the other side, the two marks mirror images of one another.

After so many rounds of this game, Bucky didn’t seem to mind telling these stories. But when your attention landed on these particular scars, he didn’t want to play anymore. He wanted you to know everything about him- just not this. But what choice did he have? He could lie to you. He could make up a story. He could refuse to tell you the truth. But whatever he decided, he knew he’d regret it.

It wasn’t fair to keep things from you. Bucky swore from day one to always be honest with you- and you did the same. But this truth only served to hurt you. The pain in your eyes when he told you about his gunshot wound and the resulting torn stitches cut him deep. But that story was nothing compared to the source of the scars on his neck. He knew how crushed you’d be when he gave you the real story. And though he never wanted to lie to you, he found himself pulling an explanation out of thin air.

“They’re from, um…” he cleared his throat, already regretting his lie. “They’re from restraints. They put me in this, I don’t know what you’d call it- I guess a… collar-type thing. Made of metal. Really tight. It dug into my skin. They used it to, uh, to chain me to a wall.” Part of Bucky believed his own lie. He thought for a silent moment- did this really happen? Was his attempt at a fabricated story actually a buried memory? For Hydra, such a punishment sounded plausible. But after several seconds, he determined it false.

Your mind went blank, only to suddenly overflow with images of Bucky in chains. Sharp metal cutting into his skin. His blood pouring down his body and pooling on the floor. The sound of rattling chains mixed with his screams and echoed inside your skull.

“I don’t wanna play this game anymore…” was all you could manage to say through the sudden tears and tightness in your chest. You hid your face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, your breath fanning the very scar about which you regretted inquiring.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you in an instant, pulling you as close as he could. Your shallow, shaky breaths rattled against his hand as he smoothed it along the length of your back. He saw the effect his lie had on you, the way it ripped chunks out of your heart. But the real story was worse- far worse- and as he held your shaking form against his chest, he swore to never tell you the truth.

“Just breathe for me, doll. Big deep breaths, okay?” He soothed you, helped free you from the crushing sadness. But when it cleared, a wave of guilt took you out at the knees. This wasn’t right.

“Wait, no-” you pulled your face from his neck. “This is so fucked up, oh my god. I’m so sorry, Buck. You shouldn’t be comforting me- it should be the other way around. I didn’t mean to-”

How did Bucky ever find someone like you? Someone who cared for him so deeply, loved him more than he ever thought possible? He hated that he’d upset you, that he’d started this stupid game. But part of him liked knowing how much you cared.

“Sweetheart, please don’t apologize. You’re just... you're reacting to new information. That memory is something I’ve gotten used to, it’s part of my past, so… it doesn’t bother me anymore.” Bucky knew damn well it didn’t bother him because it simply wasn’t true. The real source of his scar bit at him every day. But you didn’t have to know that. “Hey, you love me- which is unbelievable, by the way- and so hearing stories like that upsets you. Being sad about it is totally normal.”

You wiped at your eyes with the backs of your hands, “feels selfish.”

“It’s not.” A sudden laugh rumbled out of his chest, “if you weren’t upset, I think we’d have more to worry about.”

His joke was met with an eye roll and a small laugh. He wasn’t wrong. You cared so deeply for him that even imagining his past pain brought you to tears. Never had you loved someone the way you loved him. And though you dealt with your own pain and traumatic memories, you wanted more than anything to take all of Bucky’s. You wanted to steal any ounce of residual pain and every nightmare inducing memory, leaving him only with peace.

“I love you a lot,” you said. “And I’m so- I’m so sorry for everything you went through. You never should’ve suffered like that.”

Bucky’s forehead met yours in a moment of quiet. No one ever acknowledged his pain, his trauma. They talked about his kills, the blood on his hands. They talked about his pardon- the pardon that, according to you, he “never should’ve needed”. Because nothing he did as the Winter Soldier was by choice. He was a victim, a prisoner of war. But everyone conveniently left that part out. They regarded him as either “the winter soldier” or the “pardoned war criminal”, never the hero, the abused, the broken.

“Thank you,” he whispered. And he meant it.

The two of you sat there for a few long moments, reveling in the other’s presence. But Bucky’s growling stomach broke the silence. He locked eyes with you in an apologetic glance that quickly devolved into a storm of laughter.

“I’m guessing you want dinner?”

“You could say that…” Bucky shrugged. “But I made you cry, so I want you to pick.”

“Buuuuck-”

He crossed his arms over his chest and refused to listen to your protests. “From this moment on, the rule in this house is: whoever who caused the other to cry must let the crier choose dinner, and must deal with the cuisine consequences.”

“Cuisine consequences? Did you just make that up?”

Bucky gave a proud nod, “yup”. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and grabbed your laptop from the nightstand, offering it to you. “Pick a place, doll. Whatever you want.”

Nearly an hour later, the two of you sat camped out on the couch. A spread of take-out lay strewn across the coffee table, half demolished. And while it was Bucky whose hunger signaled dinner, he didn’t eat much. You’d decided on take out from your favorite barbecue place, knowing Bucky loved their brisket almost as much as he loved you. But his mood seemed to deflate as he pushed his food around his plate.

He wasn’t devouring his brisket like usual. And his side dishes went almost untouched.

“Hey, is something wrong?” You paused the tv and turned to Bucky, “You’ve been quiet- you barely touched your food. Is everything alright?”

Bucky gave a small nod.

Guilt grabbed you by the throat. He wasn’t okay- and you knew it stemmed from the memory he recalled for you. The restraints, the collar. The thought of it made you shudder.

“Buck, if this is about earlier- about the story you told me- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, babe. I didn’t know where the scars came from, I never would’ve asked if I…” you took a deep breath, easing the shaky quality in your voice. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no-” he set his plate on the table and turned to you, “it’s not like that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

It was just like Bucky to swear you were perfect, that you never did anything wrong. But you knew better. You knew he’d been forced to dig up some deep, soul-crushing trauma when you asked about the scars on his neck. You knew he was hurting- and it was your fault.

“Buck, if I upset you, you can tell me-”

“You didn’t. I swear.” He took your hands in his and dropped his gaze. “But I lied to you. About the scars on my neck. And I feel really bad about it.”

It certainly wasn’t what you expected. “Oh… okay.”

In a panic, Bucky dragged his eyes back to yours, “I know that we always tell each other everything, but I just didn’t-”

“Buck, that’s not a rule. You aren’t required to tell me every single thing that’s ever happened to you or every thought you’ve ever had. You’re entitled to your privacy." You gave his hand a squeeze, "I just want you to know that you can tell me everything- nothing’s off limits- but you don’t have to. I know you’ve been through a lot of really dark shit. And if you wanna tell me every detail, I’m all ears. But if you’re not ready, that’s more than okay. It’s okay if you’re never ready- you don't ever have to tell me if you don't want to. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Oh…” Bucky took a moment to think about what you said. He liked the way you phrased it, the way you were open to everything he had to say without demanding he say anything at all. If he wanted to talk, you’d listen. And if he didn’t, you’d be there, regardless.

“Whatever happened- however you got those scars- you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s all your choice.”

He considered skipping out on the entire venture. He could tell you the collar was a lie without giving you the real story, and everything would be fine. You’d respect his boundaries- he knew that. But the source of those scars was such a turning point in his life, such a defining moment. And to skip out on sharing it with you felt wrong. It was a pivotal time in his life that changed his path- and inadvertently led him to you.

“I want to tell you…” he said after a long, quiet moment. “It’s a pretty significant part of my story, and I want you to know everything about me, you know? I just- I don’t want to upset you again.”

“Buck, it’s okay-”

Bucky gave a sad shake of his head. “I made you cry earlier, doll. And that story wasn’t that bad, it wasn't even true-”

You took his face in your hands, silencing him. “If you wanna tell me, I wanna listen. I mean, I obviously hate that these things happened to you- that you suffered so much. But if it’s part of your story, I wanna know.”

Bucky let his eyes fall shut as he thought it over. Memories of the darkest time in his life rushed forward, nearly drowning him. But your touch kept him afloat. It kept him safe, warm. With you by his side, he found the strength to wade back into the depths of his memory.

“It was after I escaped…” he finally said. He took your hands from his face and held them tight, anchoring himself to the present. “I didn’t know what to do, you know? I didn’t know who or where I was. I was lost.” A faraway look left his eyes hollow, lifeless. “I had to figure out how to reclaim my mind and my body. I spent days holed up, hiding, reading about the things I’d done. And it made me sick.” He shifted in his seat. A familiar sense of dread and nausea sat like a rock in his stomach.

“I was disgusted. I hated the serum. I hated the Winter Soldier- I hated myself. I didn’t wanna be this anymore, you know? I was given the same serum as Steve, but I wasn’t good Like Steve. I turned into a monster.” He paused. It took far too much effort to pull air into his lungs. He knew the suffocating sensation well, the feeling of choking on his own agony.

“And for a while I thought it corrupted me, that it changed who I was. I blamed the serum. But then I had this epiphany one day…” He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the ground. He couldn’t look at you. “The serum just amplifies who and what you are, you know? They gave it to Steve because he was a good person, because he had a good heart. And he became a hero. But I…”

The shame threatened to eat him alive. He’d worked so hard to change the way he viewed himself. And with your help, he no longer saw a monster in the mirror. But taking a trip down memory lane reminded him of his capacity for evil. “I became a killer. And it made me think- maybe I always had that darkness in me. Maybe my soul wasn’t pure enough.”

You curled a finger under his chin and lifted his head, bringing his eyes to yours. “Baby, you were brainwashed. Tortured. They wiped your mind- all your memories. They took away your sense of self and rebuilt you in their image. The things you did weren’t because of an impure soul or deep-seeded evil. And they had nothing to do with the the serum. If the roles were reversed, Steve just as easily could’ve become the Winter Soldier.”

That sounded almost blasphemous to Bucky.

“You’re a product of circumstance, Buck.”

He wasn’t sure he could digest your words. Only a few hours ago, he would’ve known without a doubt that you were right. He would’ve agreed and easily shrugged himself out of the darkness. But sinking back into the headspace from the days after his escape left him shaken.

He pulled his eyes down to the floor once again, unblinking. Unfocused. And though he felt lost in a different time, he refused to submit to the pain. He traced the same pattern on the back of your hand over and over, searched for peace in the sound of your breathing. Anything to keep him anchored in the present.

A deep need to diffuse the situation rattled inside you. You wanted to tell him that he could stop, that the two of you could return to this conversation after he ate. Or after a good night’s sleep. Or that he could abandon the story all together and never speak about it again. But just as you decided to speak up, words tumbled out of his mouth.

“I wanted the serum out of my body.” He finally met your gaze. Something in his eyes semmed frantic, helpless. “I thought that getting rid of it would turn me back to my old self- I know that’s stupid. But I was desperate. So, I started, um…”

He couldn’t believe he was telling you this story. It was dark, shameful. Revealing his lowest moment to the person he cared about most- the person whose opinion mattered more than anyone else’s- suddenly seemed like terrible idea. It felt like a surefire way to scare you away, to convince you that he was far more damaged than you could ever repair.

But didn’t you deserve the truth? Didn’t you deserve to know who you slept next to at night, who you committed your life to? Bucky respected you more than anyone. And keeping secrets didn’t feel right. He needed to give you his authentic self, offer himself to you without hiding his darkness. Only then could he know that you loved all of him.

He screwed his eyes shut and yanked his shoulders up to his ears as though bracing for impact. And then, he set the truth free. “I started making myself bleed- I thought I could bleed the serum out of my body.” The admission lifted a weight from his chest he didn’t know he was carrying. Air rushed into his lungs and granted him his first deep breath of the evening.

He opened his eyes slowly, fearing your reaction. But you simply nodded and allowed him to continue. You provided him with a safe place to land as he jumped off the proverbial cliff. “I started making cuts into my skin every day, but the serum was…” he sighed, “the serum healed them too quickly- they’d always vanish.”

He eyed you again, waiting for a look of disgust or disapproval. But no such look came. You just stroked your fingers over his knuckles. Gave his hand a squeeze. You gave him the time and the space he needed to breathe. To think.

“And one day- I don’t know, I got fed up. The desperation and the anxiety and the fear- it was too much. It all got to me at once. And I wanted the serum out.” His grip on your hand tightened as the flashbacks pulled him under. “I dug my knife into my neck. I ripped the skin open on both sides- I wanted to sever every blood vessel I could. I figured that the more blood I lost, the faster the serum would leave my body. The sooner I'd return to who I was before.”

You nodded. An almost violent sadness vibrated in your chest, but you wouldn’t dare set it free. Not yet anyway. You kept it caged, allowing it to tear and thrash and bite at your insides. Bucky was sure to clam up if he saw just how gutted you were. How heartbroken. And so, you kept your composure. You remained calm. This was his time.

And when he'd said everything he needed to say and purged every dark memory of those scars, you’d let yourself fall apart. But only then.

“And then things got all fuzzy. Hazy. From the blood loss. And I collapsed. I laid on the floor, watching the red pool around me. And I realized…” He took a deep breath. Why was this so hard to admit? Why did he hesitate? He knew you wouldn’t perceive him as weak or cowardly. Would never see him as pathetic. He knew he could trust you with his heart. But showing just how much he’d struggled ripped off yet another layer of protection. It left him raw. Open. His breathing hitched.

“Realized what, baby?” you spoke as softly as you could manage, easing his words out of hiding.

“I um, I realized it was never about the serum.” He stared at you expectantly, like he wanted you to connect the dots. Wanted you to save him from saying the words. But after a long moment, he forced them out.

“I wanted to die- I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

You knew he survived. You knew that he was okay. Still, his words gutted you. A burning sensation tingled inside your nose- but you refused to allow the tears to form. You swallowed every ounce of emotion. Forbade your heartbreak from making an appearance. But Bucky clocked your shaking hand. The slight tremors and twitches vibrated against his vibranium palm.

Sure, you could fight the tears and keep yourself composed- but you couldn’t force your hands to steady.

He let a sad smile pull his lips upward, “Did you know that everyone who’s attempted suicide off the Golden Gate Bridge and survived immediately regretted jumping? The instant they began falling, they realized they didn’t actually want to die…” A deep breath filled his chest, “And that’s exactly what happened to me.”

A strange relief eased through your body, coating your rigid muscles. Somehow, knowing he instantly regretted his attempt made you feel better- made you feel as though the urge didn’t still lurk in the back of his mind.

“I knew my life was fucked. I was lost, alone, confused. I was homeless. Scared.” A particular darkness overshadowed him as he reflected. He remembered the fear. The isolation. The constant, overwhelming sense of impending doom. He lived in a never-ending state of fight or flight back then, his body always prepared for death.

But a sudden light banished the sadness, “And then I realized that I had a second chance at life, you know? I was free- from the military, from Hydra. And I told myself that if I survived, I’d figure my shit out. That I’d try to make something of my life- that I owed it to myself to make this work.”

You nodded. It didn't feel like enough of a response. You wanted to tell him you were proud of him, that you loved him. But your mind was blank, save for the image of Bucky bleeding out by his own hand.

“And I’m so glad I made it through, cause- I never imagined I’d find happiness like this. I look back on that time every now and then, and it’s… I mean, it’s horrible. It’s scary. And it’s sad. And I wish I’d never experienced any of it.” A warm, genuine smile broke out across his face. It lifted his features and cleared the storm clouds from his eyes. He stared at you like you were his salvation, “But then I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could tell myself that it gets better. That I won’t be alone forever. That one day, someone will actually care about me.”

The two of you sat in silence, staring at each other. Bucky couldn’t get the look of adoration off his face. When you entered his life, it was like he swallowed the sun. You warmed him from the inside out, filled his life with light. He looked at you, convinced you were heaven-sent.

The dam holding your tears wouldn’t last much longer- you knew it would collapse any second. But you fought to reinforce it. What if Bucky had more to say? What if he needed more time to purge the details of his darkest days? You weren’t going to let your emotions rob him of that- you couldn’t. So, you remained quiet, waiting.

“Anyway…” Bucky said when he finally spoke again. “That’s um, that's where the scars came from. Thank you for listening- I know that was probably hard to hear. And that it wasn’t what you were expecting. But I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. Do you-”

With a guttural sob, you scrambled into his lap. You flung your arms around his neck and secured your body to his- desperate to hold him. To assure yourself that he was real. That he was there. Everything you felt over course of his story came flooding forward, destroying your hard-built dam. The heartbreak and the pain and the utter despair drained from your body in streams of tears.

But Bucky expected this. He knew how much you loved him, how deeply you cared- not that he ever expected anyone to feel such things for him. He knew his story ripped your heart out. Hearing something so soul crushing about the love of your life- something so dark and painful and scary- broke you. It cut you open and left you bleeding. He knew he’d react the same way if the situation were reversed.

And so, he simply held you tight and let you cry. He smoothed a hand up and down your back. Left kisses against your cheek. Whispered assurances and soothing words. He whispered your name over and over again to convince you he was alive. He was patient and sweet, giving you the time you needed to process what he’d said. He knew exactly what you needed.

“I love you…” you finally whispered against his neck.

A quiet, contented hum left Bucky’s chest. “And I love you. I just thought you should know… But now that I’m thinking about it, maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe it was too much." The longer you cried, the more regret pooled in Bucky’s chest. It solidified and turned to concrete, sitting heavy on his heart. “I’m sorry for upsetting you-"

You pulled your tear-stained face from the crook of his neck and stared at him with a nearly frightening intensity. “No, don’t apologize. This is your life we’re talking about…” You paused for a moment, only to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“Everything that’s happened to you- all the good and all the bad- made you who you are. That moment-” Flashes of Bucky, bleeding and alone, swarmed your brain. The images robbed you of air and sent fresh tears trailing down your face. Bucky gave you as much time as you needed to compose yourself, to remember how to breathe.

“That moment is important. It’s part of your story. A big part. And it’s awful- it's really fucking sad. And it wasn’t easy to hear…” You forced a deep inhale and steadied your voice, “but it’s important. You chose to live. To stay. You made yourself a promise, and you’ve kept it. And I’m really- I'm so proud of you.”

Bucky pulled you back into his body. He basked in your love, in your support and your understanding. And he silently thanked the version of himself who fought to survive. He didn’t choose life all those years ago because he hoped one day he’d find love- but it certainly made his decision far more worth while.

Muffled words vibrated against Bucky’s neck, and he let out a soft laugh. “Can you say that again doll?”

With a dramatic groan, you once again pulled your head from Bucky’s neck. “I’m said… I’m glad- for a lot of reasons- that you took advantage of your second chance. The world would be a much shittier place without you in it.” You untangled your arms from around his neck and rested your palms against his stubbled cheeks. “And if I’m being selfish, I’m glad that you stuck around… cause I can’t imagine my life without you. That whole thing- all that dark shit- it brought you to me.”

Bucky’s lips met yours in an instant. He poured every ounce of his love for you into the kiss. All his devotion. He couldn’t find the words to describe how much you meant to him. How special you were. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to express feelings that strong.

The two of you laid on the couch, enveloped in one another. You held Bucky tight enough to ensure he wouldn’t spontaneously disappear. His head rested on your sternum; your hands tangled in his hair. You breathed together like one being, no seams or sutures to be found.

“I’m glad I finally told you,” he said after a while. “I wanted to get it off my chest, but I just didn’t know how. And the longer I waited, the guiltier I felt for keeping it from you.”

“You don’t have to feel guilty, baby. Not with me.”

Things quieted again. It was so peaceful and calm that you thought Bucky might’ve fallen asleep. You couldn’t imagine the emotional toll it took to recount his darkest days- hell, you were exhausted from just listening to his story. If he needed to sleep off the turmoil, then so be it.

But a familiar sound broke the silence. Bucky’s stomach rumbled, once again disrupting a peaceful moment.

“Hungry?” you asked with a laugh.

Bucky nodded emphatically against your chest.

“I bet. You barely touched your food.” You removed your hands from his hair, freeing him, “Go heat up some leftovers, Babe.”

He hesitated. His eyes drifted from the containers of brisket, macaroni and cheese, and cornbread before returning to your face. He feared leaving your side, like he thought maybe you’d fall apart if he left you alone. You had to be fragile, still reeling from the awful things he’d said. And he needed to be there for you- his hunger could wait.

But you read his mind. “Buck, I’m okay,” you laughed, “I swear. You can make a trip to the microwave- I’ll be alright.”

With a deep kiss, Bucky leapt into action he snagged his plate off the table and piled it high with everything in sight. It was such a sharp contrast to the old days, the time he spent lost and alone without even a sliver of hope. Some days, he felt like he still sat in square one. Like he hadn’t made much progress or done enough work on himself. But it was moments like these that proved to him- and to you- just how far he’d come. Never again would he wish for death or seek to end his pain forever. He had to live- he wanted to live. For himself. For you.

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