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#i need a therapist…. spare change
columbusswift · a month ago
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beelicious-barnes · a month ago
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Locked (B.B)
A/N: this was requested by @harrysthiccthighss and @redneckstrash it's some Bucky with enemies to lovers (ish). I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Beta read by the lovely @tuiccim, thank you so much for this!
Happy Reading!
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There was almost an uncomfortable silence in the room as Bucky and you sat on the chairs with Steve opposite you. He looked pissed and you knew he'd had enough of the bickering and hate between Bucky and you. He drew the line at this rivalry affecting work and today was your reckoning for this antipathy -
"You're both going to sit in this room and talk. There's water and snacks enough to last you days, if need be, so I don't care how long this takes, you won't leave until whatever this is over between you two." Steve made this little announcement as he picked the keys up and walked towards the door.
You jogged to him, letting out a nervous laugh, he had to be joking, right? You put your hand on the door and looked at Steve, "you can't just leave us here, Steve."
"Oh, but I am. I've had enough of both of you being at each other's throats when you're both very capable of doing well. This is the only solution," He moved your hand and gave you a look, asking you to get out of his way.
You stepped aside with a sigh as you looked at Bucky, "you're not going to say anything? This is when you decide to shut up?"
Bucky simply shrugs and decides to go back to looking at his phone, scrolling away mindlessly. The truth was, he was incredibly nervous. Everything you did made him nervous and now, being locked in a room with you, he felt like he was going to combust. There was only so much a man could take.
Steve shrugged as he opened the door, "I'll see you... whenever, I guess. Have fun!"
Before you could protest, he walked out of the door, and locked it from outside. This was it. You couldn't leave until you had an actual conversation with Bucky Barnes. You were going to be stuck here forever.
--
An hour had passed by and neither of you said a word. The silence was long and uncomfortable, it made you shift in your seat multiple times.
You couldn't help but glance at Bucky as he frustratedly tapped on his phone, "You know with your super-soldier strength, you might just break it."
Bucky's nostrils flared but he didn't look at you, "He keeps falling off - the running man."
You raised an eyebrow at him, "what?"
He sighs as he shows you his phone - Temple Run. Bucky Barnes was playing Temple Run and you couldn't help but chuckle. You stood up and grabbed a chair, dragging it next to him as you sat down.
"Why are you playing temple run, Barnes?"
Bucky shrugged, "my therapist said playing games would help calm my nerves but this is just really frustrating."
You take the phone in your hand, your fingers brushing against his, "well it's because you aren't doing it right. You're supposed to move your phone." You demonstrated the game for a few seconds and then paused it, "like that. Would you like to try again?"
He nods softly, an embarrassed blush on his cheeks as he takes his phone back and tries again. A smile spread on his face once he got the hang of it, "thanks. This spares me the trouble of asking Sam about it."
"It's alright." You looked away from him and cleared your throat, unsure of what to do next as you played with your fingers, "so are you nervous right now?"
"What?"
"You said playing would help calm your nerves, so I was just wondering." You shrugged a little and put your feet up on the table, getting comfortable.
Bucky looked at your feet and then at you, "Steve doesn't like feet on his table."
You noticed how quickly he changed the subject but you didn't want to press. Instead, you smirked and looked at him, "you going to tell me on me, Barnes? Hmm?"
There was that blush again. He shook his head no as he tried to focus on the game; a little fist bump followed as he crossed his previous high score.
You were getting bored and impatient; you left your phone in your room and there were only so many scenarios you could daydream of until you got too distracted to do it again.
You bumped your knee against him, "I'm bored. Can we play something?"
Bucky sighs as he pauses the game and puts his phone away, "well, what do you want to play?"
You thought for a second and turned your chair to face him properly, "I'll say a word and you respond with the first thing that comes to your mind, alright? Don't think twice."
He nods as he turns his chair, both of you facing each other, your knees touching, "All alright, let's do this."
--
Bucky and you had played a few rounds so far, some funny, some embarrassing and it was his turn again and you knew exactly what to ask,
"Me."
Bucky's eyes widened a little, "what?"
"Don't think twice - me."
He looked down at his thighs, opposite yours, "uh gorgeous."
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. This wasn't what you were expecting. Maybe cocky? Arrogant? Annoying? Definitely not gorgeous.
"Oh, thank you," you look down as well, "why don't you like me? I mean, I know we just never got along but I never understood why."
Bucky sighs as he leans back a little, "Well you were talking to Nat when you first joined, and you told her you were scared of the Winter Soldier. I - I'm not that person anymore, you know?"
"Oh my god."
"I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, but you were pretty loud."
You let out a sigh of relief as you chuckled, "Bucky I wasn't talking about you. Do you know those new video games released with the Avengers? Nat and I were testing it out and I was Captain America and Nat was the Winter Soldier, that's what I was scared of because I was losing the game."
Bucky's eyes widen as he looks at you, "what?"
"I'm not scared of you! You were brainwashed, you went through hell and back and now you're healing, I admire you, and I'm definitely not scared of you." You moved a little closer as you put your hand over his, "I'm so sorry."
He held your hand in his, almost too delicately, scared that he was going to break you, "no, I'm sorry. I should have spoken to you about it instead of being a jerk all these months."
"I don't blame you. I probably would have assumed the same." You squeeze his hand and offer him a small smile, "right, back to the game. Your turn."
"Me."
You couldn't help but smile widely, "extremely gorgeous." You wink at him, letting go of his hand when you hear the door open.
Bucky and you both move away from each other as Steve walks in.
"You both have been here 4 hours; I'm hoping there was progress?"
You nod softly and exchange a look with Bucky, who nods as well. You push your chair back and stand up, “are we allowed to leave now? Please? I’m starving.” You turn around and look at Bucky, “we talked and we’re okay now, aren’t we?”
Bucky nods and stands up, walking over next to you, “it was just a misunderstanding, and we’re more than okay now.”
Steve opens the door as Bucky and you walk outside, both going opposite directions while looking back one last time and smiling at each other with a little wave. You head back to your room, trying your best to wipe the smile off your face when your phone dings with a text from Bucky –
Barnes: I’ve reached a new high score on temple run, thanks to you.
You chuckle softly as you lie down on your bed and wonder what you should type back. Should you text him this soon? Ah, fuck it.
Y/N: Glad I could teach you something new, grandpa ;)
You waited patiently, ten minutes had passed by and Bucky hadn’t responded yet. Did you upset him with the grandpa comment? Surely not –
Barnes: How about you let me take you out for dinner sometimes?
Your eyes widened and another text came through,
Barnes: only if you want to, of course.
You definitely weren’t expecting this but you were pleasantly surprised. You got up from your bed and walked to his room, knocking on his door. It didn’t take long for a wide-eyed Bucky to open the door,
“Oh hey – uh sorry I wasn’t expecting you; the room is a mess.”
You shook your head as you leaned in and pressed a kiss against his cheek, “dinner sounds perfect. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Bucky stood there with a blush and a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you walk away. He made a mental note to thank Steve later for agreeing to lock you both in together.
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csuitebitches · 6 months ago
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The 7 Day #IChooseMe Challenge
The next seven days, choose YOU.
Choose yourself.
Prioritise yourself.
Take care of yourself.
If you’ve been feeling lost lately, or life has been off track - this challenge is great to bring you back on track.
It helps you have some structure in your life, while allowing you to have fun and plenty of spare time.
I am not a therapist or a doctor. Take this advice as you would from a friend.
With this challenge, you’ll feel a little more fulfilled, happier, and you’ll have a set routine.
You only have to accomplish 6 small goals a day for 7 days to finish this challenge.
Download the tracker PDF to tick mark the goals you accomplish everyday! Download it from my google drive. https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1Nswwr87sQrFwWvcbexPrsJF5w0F-WyLk?usp=sharing
_______________________________________________
The Night Before Day 1
- Get in bed by 11:30 pm, even if you’re not tired.
- Try to finish all your work.
- Set your phone away from you.
- Download the PDF tracker.
_______________________________________________
Day 1
- wake up at 7 am or 2.5 hours before work/ school.
- Make a to-do list for the day. Groceries, laundry, assignments due, appointments - make it a habit to note it down around 20 minutes after you wake up.
- Start your day with 10 minute stretch. Do this before you eat.
https://youtu.be/T41mYCmtWls
- Read 2 news articles.
- Write down 3 things you’re grateful for today.
- Eat at least 1 fruit of your choice.
_______________________________________________
Day 2
- wake up at 7 am or 2.5 hours before work/ school.
- Make a to-do list for the day. Groceries, laundry, assignments due, appointments - make it a habit to note it down around 20 minutes after you wake up.
- Start your day with a 6 minute, deep breathing meditation. Sit cross legged as you face south east, close your eyes and focus on breathing deeply.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0Yf5SYwqjw&feature=emb_title
- choose a healthy option for lunch. Salads, soups, healthy wraps, a light rice bowl - eat something with lots of nutrients.
- Compliment someone at work/ school today!
- Clean your room.
_______________________________________________
Day 3
- wake up at 7 am or 2.5 hours before work/ school.
- Make a to-do list for the day. Groceries, laundry, assignments due, appointments - make it a habit to note it down around 20 minutes after you wake up.
- Start your day by telling yourself any 3 affirmations. Look at yourself in the mirror and speak out loud. This could be something like …”Today is going to be a good day. I’m capable of accomplishing and handling everything sent my way. I am a positive, healthy person and I genuinely love the person I am, or I am becoming.”
- Drink 2 litres of water today. Add a piece of lemon or mint if that helps!
- Read 5 pages of any book of your choice. If you don’t like reading, then listen to this podcast (start at 1 minute to skip the intro) :
https://href.li/?https://podcasts.apple.com/in/podcast/2048-3-exercises-for-flowing-your-fear-by-rachel-shanken/id1067688314?i=1000529438605
- write down a list of qualities you think you need to work on. It could be things like being on time, working on your anger, etc.
_______________________________________________
Day 4
- wake up at 7 am or 2.5 hours before work/ school.
- Make a to-do list for the day. Groceries, laundry, assignments due, appointments - make it a habit to note it down around 20 minutes after you wake up.
- Start your day with a lymphatic drainage massage! This is a 10 minute video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MCezvvbm_A&feature=emb_title
- Write down 3 things you’re grateful for today.
- Do a 20 minute workout.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCG4zlvuUok
- Change your bedsheets and covers. If you have some lavender mist lying around, spray it under your pillow for a good night’s rest.
__________________________________
Day 5
- wake up at 7 am or 2.5 hours before work/ school.
- Make a to-do list for the day. Groceries, laundry, assignments due, appointments - make it a habit to note it down around 20 minutes after you wake up.
- Start your day with a 6 minute, deep breathing meditation. Sit cross legged as you face south east, close your eyes and focus on breathing deeply.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0Yf5SYwqjw&feature=emb_title
- Eat a fruit of your choice.
- Read 2 news articles.
- Drink 2 litres of water today. Add a piece of lemon or mint if that helps!
_______________________________________________
Day 6
- wake up at 7 am or 2.5 hours before work/ school.
- Make a to-do list for the day. Groceries, laundry, assignments due, appointments - make it a habit to note it down around 20 minutes after you wake up.
- Start your day with a 10 minute stretch. Do this before you eat.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T41mYCmtWls
- Write down 3 things you’re grateful for.
- Tell yourself any 3 affirmations. Look at yourself in the mirror and speak out loud. This could be something like …”today is going to be a good day. I’m capable of accomplishing and handling everything sent my way. I am a positive, healthy person and I genuinely love the person I am, or I am becoming.”
- Call up your mum, family member, friends and have a chat with them. Find out how they’re doing.
_______________________________________________
Day 7
- Sleep in till 9 am today if you like! But if you have work or school, get up at 7 am / 2.5 hours before you have to go.
- Make a to-do list for the day. Groceries, laundry, assignments due, appointments - make it a habit to note it down around 20 minutes after you wake up.
- Put on a face mask of your choice.
- Eat a healthy, filling breakfast. If you can’t eat in the mornings, then have a glass or two of water.
- If you can step outside, go for a 30 minute walk. If you’re unable to, then do some stretching at home.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssaMwhZlIeE&t=3s
- Write down how you felt this whole week. Did you feel better? Was there some structure in your life?
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devilyn · a year ago
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is that too much to ask? | tsukishima kei
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— alexa, play: love somebody by lauv
I don't wanna be the one to say
That we gotta have a conversation
I don't wanna watch the tears roll down your face
Know, I hurt you, and I, I'm sorry
All I wanted was to love somebody
— synopsis: tsukishima avoids physical affection with you as often as he can, and you wonder what it is that you’re doing wrong in your relationship.
— genre: angst, happy endings, & the product of my writer’s block
— word count: 2.6k
You knew Tsukishima wasn’t the affectionate type--you knew that when you asked him out in your second year of high school. You knew that if you hugged him in front of his volleyball teammates, he’d stiffen and cringe away from your touch. It was natural for you to start reaching your arms out towards him before stopping yourself and resorting to a proud pat on the arm and a bright smile. It was to the point where even Hinata once commented that he’d never even see the two of you hug.
Now that the two of you were in university, and almost three years into your relationship, you started wondering what exactly it was about physical affection with you that Tsukishima hated so much. You started to experiment--slipping your hand into his when you walked back to your shared apartment together after his long volleyball practices, or tossing your arms around his neck in excitement after he wins a tough match. Each time, he’d react the same way. He would pull his hand from yours, or he’d put his hands on your shoulders and put some distance between the two of you.
At first, you believed it to be embarrassment. He didn’t like PDA--you could understand that. Even you had a limit to how much you could flaunt your relationship status in public. But even when the two of you were in the comfort of your apartment, you wondered why he never initiated any physical affection.
“Kei,” you whispered his name softly, and he looked up from his phone to meet your eyes. “Do you...not love me?”
He blinked, raising both brows in genuine surprise and slowly lowering his spoonful of cereal back into his bowl. 
“...Are you dumb?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes and tightening your grip on your keys.
“It’s whatever,” you murmured, pulling the front door open and not bothering to spare him a glance over your shoulder. “I’ll see you.”
You left quickly to not have to deal with the aftermath of your sudden question, the door shutting firmly behind you.
Was it selfish of you to want more proof of his love for you? Sure, there were small things. Things like how he always helped you study for your exams if he could, or how he’d make you a cup of coffee before you left because he knew you struggled with staying awake during your morning classes. You knew he loved you because of these things.
But there was always a small voice in the back of your head asking if he only did those things to drag your stagnant relationship on. For a year now, it felt as if every day was the same with him. Actions were repetitive, dates were infrequent and only occurred when you asked, and at times, each day with him felt like a clone of the previous. Which is why you started wanting to hold his hand, and melt into his warm embrace.
Your fingers tightened on your tumbler, holding the contents of your boyfriend’s love--the coffee he made you this morning. 
Even at home, he would merely pet your head when you cuddled into his side on the couch. Kisses were rare unless you initiated, and he’d always tease you whenever you whined about wanting him to kiss you first. It’s not like you two never had sex either, so what was so wrong about your relationship that left you wanting more?
Your phone buzzed in your other hand, and you glanced at it briefly.
u ok?
You tucked your phone back into your pocket without replying. You never should’ve asked. Now you’ve disrupted the peace you had in your stagnant relationship.
Though, maybe it was okay to want more.
“Is it really a problem?” Kuroo sipped his drink through his straw, raising a brow in your direction. “You’ve been dating for three years. I’m more surprised that you didn’t bring this up to him earlier.”
Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the half empty tumbler, teeth gnawing anxiously at your lower lip.
“...I think I was too scared in the beginning,” you murmured.
“Mm,” your friend hummed softly in agreement. “You’ve changed. You were always affectionate before.”
You blinked, raising your gaze from the table between the two of you to meet Kuroo’s grin.
“How’d you know that? We just became friends in uni--”
“Tsukki told me,” he cut you off, and your fingers stopped tapping against your drink. “And it’s not like I don’t notice that you hug me more than you hug your boyfriend.”
“First of all, don’t say things that can be so easily misunderstood,” you tossed a crumpled up napkin at the former captain, and he quickly dodged it with a short laugh. “Second, what do you mean Kei told you? He said I used to be more--affectionate?”
This was news to you. You never thought that he would notice how you changed to make him feel more comfortable with your relationship.
It was true that towards the beginning of your relationship, you were always scared of upsetting him, so you did everything you could to change to his needs. You held back words you knew he wouldn’t want to hear, and only ever spoke up if something truly bothered you. It worked up until the end of your first year before you started opening up to him slowly. But something you could never seem to breach was Tsukishima’s habit of avoiding physical affection. 
“You know how he is,” Kuroo waved his hand dismissively, “Your boyfriend’s terrible with emotions. I tell him all the time that I’m surprised you lasted so long--”
“Don’t talk badly about him like that,” you scolded your friend with a scowl, to which he snickered quietly.
“Well, you can’t deny it, can you? He sucks, but he has his good points. That’s why you’re still dating him, right?”
It was true that you couldn’t deny it. Tsukishima had many faults, and his lack of desire for physical affection was only one of them. Still, you were just as much at fault for not communicating with him out of fear that he’d leave you.
“He’s just scared, y’know,” Kuroo rested his chin in his upturned palm. “Just like you. Even after three years, he’s not used to affection. Why don’t you just talk to him instead of sulking about it to me? I feel like I might as well be the third person in your relationship with how often you two come to me about each other.”
You were quiet for a bit, swirling the now cold coffee around as you processed the thought of confronting the issues you’ve been burying for so long.
“...he’d never date you,” you finally murmured, turning your gaze out the window.
“Ah, and you would?”
You didn’t need to look up to see Kuroo’s smug smirk.
“You wish.”
But no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, there was some truth in Kuroo’s words. You had used him as a therapist far too many times, when your issues could easily be solved by confronting your fears and sitting down to talk with the man you lived with.
If only speaking to Tsukishima about your problems was as easy as it sounded.
By the time you finally gathered up the courage to even speak his name, your boyfriend was standing from the dinner table to grab your plates and heading towards the sink where his dishwashing responsibilities awaited him. The sight of his broad back seemed to glue your lips shut. 
You couldn’t get the words out.
“Do you hate being touched by me?” was the first thing you wanted to ask.
“Is it wrong for me to ask for you to tell me you love me sometimes?” would probably be the second, paired with, “Can you just kiss me once in a while without complaining about it?”
It all felt so childish, even before the words left your lips. So instead, you sat frozen in your chair, gazing at your boyfriend’s back that you longed to embrace.
Slowly, you stood. Before your brain could tell you how stupid of an idea this was, your feet moved forward until you were standing just a step away from Tsukishima’s much taller form.
Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and you could feel the way he jolted in surprise as you rested your cheek against his warm back.
“I’m washing--”
“Do you hate me?”
Silence.
Well, that question didn’t come out as expected, though it’s not like you didn’t wonder that too.
“Don’t turn around,” you pleaded quietly over the running water. To someone else, you must’ve looked like a fool, clinging onto your boyfriend like your life depended on it while he soaped up your dirty dishes.
He granted your wish, and didn’t whirl around to pull away from your touch. Instead, he continued scrubbing at your dinner plates.
“You have until I finish washing the dishes to explain yourself,” he stated calmly, and your arms tightened around his waist. It was a demand.
“I heard...from Kuroo that you said I used to be more affectionate before we started dating,” you stammered out quickly, “If you knew that, then why do you get so stiff and push me away when I try to initiate physical affection even after we’ve been dating for three years? Do you hate being touched by me so much?”
The kitchen was quiet, now that your boyfriend was drying the dishes. His hand stopped moving robotically over the wet plates, and he slowly set them down on the counter instead. You could tell he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how. So you continued.
“I do know that you love me, Kei,” you murmured weakly, voice muffling against his shirt as you shifted to rest your forehead against his broad back instead. “I do. I know you’re always thinking of me, and I love that about you. But when you push me away, I can’t help but think that you’re just pretending to love me for the sake of convenience.”
“If I wanted convenience, I wouldn’t date you,” he mumbled under his breath, and the words stung to the point that your arms dropped from around the middle blocker’s waist.
No longer confined by your embrace, Tsukishima spun around and grabbed your shoulders, his eyes wide with panic.
“Y/N wait--I didn’t mean it that--”
“You’re such an ass,” you averted your gaze from his, trying to blink away the tears that began to blur your vision.
“Listen--” his voice was frantic, but you didn’t let him continue. You were scared to hear what would come next if you did.
“I guess I was wrong, and the voice in my head is right,” you cut him off, voice trembling. “So I’ll just tell you everything that I held back since it’s all going to fall apart anyway.”
It took all your courage to turn your teary gaze back to his deceivingly sorrowful golden eyes.
“Is there something so disgusting about me that you don’t even want to hold me? Even after this many years?” you began, fully prepared to spill every one of your fears from the past three years. “Am I asking for too much when I ask you to kiss me every once in a while? Is it wrong for me to want you to just tell me you love me sometimes? Am I a bad person for thinking our relationship has become so boring because neither of us want to make the first step to try and change because we’re both scared of scaring each other away?”
You rubbed your arm against your eyes, trying to pretend like you weren’t sobbing into your sleeve. Though you’re sure you weren’t a very good actor, with the way you hiccuped and took shaky breaths between your questions.
“Did I make a mistake trying to change myself to fit your standards? Should I have never confessed to you back--”
Your voice was suddenly muffled into your boyfriend’s chest, and you gasped at the suddenness of his hug.
“Please don’t regret it,” he requested weakly, his voice trembling just as much as yours.
Those simple words were all it took for your sobs to come out freely, your shaky hands clawing upwards to grip onto Tsukishima’s t-shirt, clinging onto him as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded. It was a hug you’d been craving for ages--one he initiated. You hated that it took you throwing your heart at him for it to happen, but what were you to do?
He allowed you to cry as he continued.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he murmured into your hair. “There’s nothing wrong with what you want. I was...just scared, like you said.”
“Of what?” was what you wanted to ask. And like he read your mind, Tsukishima elaborated.
“The more I hug you, and the more kisses we share, the more I fall for you,” he whispered, as if fearful of the words he was admitting to you. “The deeper I fall, the more scared I get that you’ll leave me when you remember how bad of a boyfriend I am. I want to give you 100% of me, but at the same time, I’m too scared to do exactly that.”
Your cries were quieting down, and you took shaky breaths, inhaling his familiar scent each time. Just his embrace managed to soothe your frantic sobs.
“So I avoided anything that would make me fall too much in love with you, but it’s already too late,” he laughed bitterly, pulling back slightly so he could cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing at the wet streaks staining your skin. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “I already love you too much to let go of you, and you know it.”
“...you’re really, really not allowed to be cute right now,” you grumbled, and he laughed.
“Yeah, I could say the same to you,” he joked, leaning forward so his lips could brush over your forehead.
“...can you kiss me now?” you murmured shyly, and his grin morphed into a weak smile before his hands tilted your jaw up towards him. His lips met yours softly, and though this wasn’t your first kiss, it was the first time you’d felt this way with Tsukishima in three years.
When he pulled away, you were crying again.
“Stop crying,” he cursed, “If someone saw you right now, they’d think I was bullying you.”
You babbled something incoherent through your tears of joy, and your boyfriend’s expression softened in a way you hadn’t witnessed in what felt like years.
“You have to take responsibility, you know,” his palms cupped your jaw, pulling your teary gaze back up to his as his thumb brushed over your lower lip. “For making me fall so deeply in love with you again.”
You laughed, tears dripping down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around Tsukishima’s neck to pull him down into another love-filled kiss.
“Until when?” you grinned when you pulled away, his eyes closed as he sighed happily and rested his forehead against yours.
“Until I make up for the three years I put you through,” he mumbled, and you smiled softly as your lips grazed over his lightly. As you pulled back, he leaned forward and peppered kisses across your face.
“So, until forever?” you teased with a quiet giggle.
“Until forever,” he whispered, lips meeting yours once more.
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rein4r1 · 5 months ago
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I’m Getting You Out
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Warning/s: Familial Abuse, Implied Depression, Sex, Not proofread
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Pairing: [MODERN AU] Eren x F!Reader
AN: I’m still practicing on writing smut I promise. English isn’y my first language so...
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Eren promises to get you out of that f*cking hellhole
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Statistics are numerical figures resulting from research. And statistics show that one in seven children are exposed to abuse at home.
To become a part of a whole is to be subjected in a fractional value in a case of one of many. Just another victim. Just another unfortunate case.
You have wished for nothing more but to be treated as a person, a human being. Society should have spared people like you from becoming into something inanimate. When at home, you are nothing but an object of captivity, breed to become an investment in a capitalistic dystopia.
You grew up feeling nothing but a bruised porcelain doll. They used you, in many ways you couldn’t even count. From being treated as their personal punching bag, to an insurance that is meant to project the contradicting state inside of your home whenever you face your parents’ friends.
Every moment you make is monitored by invisible cameras. That’s why they say the walls have ears, and the ceiling have eyes. Do you even get to decide for yourself? Everything you do has been regulated to their ideals. “It’s because we love you.”
You are nothing but a dumbed down version of a golden child. Used as a puppet, nothing more and nothing less. They do it because they love you. And you believe it.
You have never prayed for anything, God is nothing but a being who abandoned you. But for once in your life, you have never wished for something, and its in a form of a young handsome boy named Eren Jaeger.
The irony of wishing someone you once hated. You hated him at some point, but only because you know what he said about your family is true. That “your family is nothing but leeching bastards who even sucked their child dry.”
Deep down, Eren’s straightforward comment haunted you. And hearing it from someone so transparent, made you anxious. You needed to hear it, but the creeping anxiety says otherwise.
And because you blame yourself for being like this, you hated Eren Jaeger.
Eren was wrong, for saying it straight of the bat. He even got Armin to hit him for saying something overwhelming.
He was wrong for saying it right out of the blue, but what he said is nothing but the unequivocal truth.
He knows your parents, leechers of society. Leeching of his wealthy father. He hated them, but not as much as you do.
He saw you in the winter of his sophomore year in university. There you stood like a statue, with restrained movements. He wanted to hate you too, but seeing that you’re your parents worst victim. Made him see them as devils.
He didn’t pity you, Eren and freedom are one. He believed that you should be free of the cage that reduced you into your parents’ slave. He knows you have your wings, and you can fly. You just need help.
He talked to his therapist once, about a bird with their claws tied. He knows that the only way for the bird to fly is if they used its wings, but he wants to help it destroy its cage.
So he did, the moment Eren decides to become your friend, you felt there was something wrong. Something wrong in the status quo. Like a change in the grand scheme of things. It wasn’t sudden per say, but there is a shift. And you don’t mind it.
Having Eren is like finding comfort in a state of distress, it felt like breathing fresh air in an area saturated with pollution. For you once in your life, you get to feel what freedom is all about. That you get to be unorthodox in a way your parents wouldn’t imagine.
And maybe that’s how you fell in love with him. As much as you believe that God should beg for your forgiveness, you begged him to let you be with the person you love.
The attraction wasn’t one-sided. That the more Eren spent time with you, he gets to be with the you that the universe failed to see. The you who made the mundane things in life enjoyable. The you who’s eyes light up in watching every studio ghibli film. The you who is Eren’s girl. His girl.
You have sought his heart and he is willingly giving you every piece of vulnerability. Because you are the girl that the Eren Jaeger loves.
And now he gets to say it, confessing your love under an oak tree in campus. And he gets to say it to you, whisper it to you in the secluded corner of the library where you get to share kisses in secret.
And he gets to say it out of the blue, when you order your coffee and you ask for his. “Baby, I love you so much.” And every letter and every word never fails to trigger the butterflies.
And he gets to say it with you at night, whenever he sneaks into your room. His touch claiming every piece of your skin. His kisses traveling all over your body. And when he’s deep inside you, he whispers his love to you.
“I love you baby, God I- Fucking love you. Feel so good around me.”
“You’re so- so good to me baby f-fuck.”
And you’re beautiful like this, getting lost in the pleasure he gives you. “Baby please cum for me- baby please.” And you do, he fills you of him straight after, marking you as his with his cum.
You’re his, and he’s yours. Such simplicity in complexity.
Eren is no good person, he knows he would kill for you, set the world in flames for you. But as much as he wants to fall into his instinct, he respects you so much, that he has become your loyal servant. Ready to go to war for you.
That’s why every time he consoles your crying figuring, reasons of what they had done to you, again. Everything turned red, the word “fight” repeating in his head again and again until you begged him to just take you into his arms, and fuck you until you forget the horrors of in the form of the people who gave birth to you.
But on this particular moment, something was off. Seeing the bruises on your skin has completely set him off. God forbids he sees your parents, because he will become a criminal you’ll hate.
But you don’t want him to kill for you, because killing means he’ll be dragged away into some worn down prison, and you fear for him. But you fear for losing him the most.
He place his hands on your cheeks wiling away the tears that continue to betray your godly eyes.
“I promise to get you out of there baby fuck- I PROMISE” And he embraced you once more, because this time he’ll forcefully open the cages to your prison.
He kept his promise, because two days after that, you left everything behind. Destroyed all your photos that tells of your life in this hell. They don’t get to remember who you are. They don’t deserve that.
And from that day, the bird flew with its wings. Claiming back its freedom and happiness. Now with the person you love.
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228 notes · View notes
byunmyeon · 9 months ago
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Metanoia
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↳ pairing: lee suho x reader
↳ synopsis: this is the sequel to philophobia. the world of red strings is one you haven’t been able to see for a long time, and now that you’ve found your unwilling soulmate, you have no interest in regaining that sight.
↳ warnings: language, angst, angst, and more angst, mentions of depression, mentions of death
— note: due to popular demand, here’s part two!
Something was wrong.
There wasn’t some pivotal event or action that made Suho conscious of the shift, he just knew. This premonition could’ve been assessed as an erroneous inkling that emanated from the vast rift between you two, but you hadn’t given any indication that the lack of recognition from your soulmate was the cause. In fact, you seemed perfectly content with disregarding Suho’s existence.
An entire month had gone by since you confronted him, and the entire situation had passed without further incident. Neither one of you had spoken since that ill-fated day.
However, it was impossible not to notice the drastic change in your character. The way you smiled was different in a way that seemed off, and there was also a certain enervation constantly embracing you. But the biggest difference was your lack of interest in just about anything. Suho might’ve thought it had everything to do with him, but again, there was no clear indication of that.
Nonetheless, ignoring you didn’t make him unaware of the unnamed sensation that had latched itself onto him since then.
It’s not like Suho wanted to notice the contrast in your behavior, but it was something he couldn’t help. Every time you came within a ten meter radius, his eyes would compulsively find their way over to you. Suho was always careful to not get caught staring, although it hardly mattered. It’s not like you looked in his general direction anymore. And even when you did happen to meet his gaze, it was for a fleeting moment that passed by so quickly that it couldn’t even be considered a full second.
Your uncharacteristic disposition made him worry. Not for you, but for him. Suho was deeply concerned that you might expose your shared secret in an abrupt moment of anger and hurt. That’s all it was. Nothing more, nothing less.
To his relief, that moment never came.
Even in the face of all the hurtful things he had said and done, you didn’t mention to Jugyeong that Suho was your soulmate. It was a development he hadn’t expected. Sure, you had told him, no, promised him that you would keep silent about the string that bounded you two together, but he was convinced that you could easily change your mind whenever you felt like it. You hadn’t.
Truthfully, your selfless act made him develop a fondness for you. Suho hadn’t expected you to be so understanding and considerate since it seemed like you were genuinely hurt that he didn’t care to acknowledge the bond between you two. That was the part he still couldn’t wrap his head around. You ignored the red string that tied you two together since the day you transferred without any qualm. Your actions convinced him that you wanted nothing to do with the soulmate bond, with him.
“What’s up with Y/N?” Taehoon wondered one day as he set his lunch tray beside Suho’s. “She isn’t looking so good these days.”
The rest of the group agreed.
“Maybe we did something to upset her.” Jugyeong said with a worried frown. Her pretty eyes drifted over to the lonely girl who was currently picking at her food. “She hasn’t wanted to hang out with us since we finished our exams.”
Suho let his own gaze fall over to you. It was true that you had kept your distance since before he officially asked Jugyeong out, but he didn’t think his girlfriend would care too much since you two weren’t that close to begin with. Seeing her so upset didn’t sit well with him.
Maybe he could convince you to start hanging out with Jugyeong and the rest of the group more often. Yes, that’s exactly what he would do. After all, doing him one more favor wouldn’t kill you.
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Most people would say that you made a mistake for letting Suho go. Among those people would be your very own mother. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if she came to find out that you gave up your soulmate without putting up a fight. It wasn’t something you were necessarily proud of, but you weren’t ashamed of your decision. Okay, so maybe refusing to acknowledge your other half wasn’t right or even sane, but you felt comfortable with your decision.
Well, that wasn’t exactly right.
The reality of your soulmate easily ignoring the string he could see was heart-wrenching. More often than not, seeing him and Jugyeong together would cause a stabbing pain in your chest. It would last no more than a second, but it was agonizing enough to have you regretting your righteous choice.
As time when on, the pain worsened and would prolong itself to the point where it became difficult to breathe. There were even instances where black dots would cloud your vision and had you feeling extremely lightheaded. Those times, however, were nothing compared to the occasions when you came close to fainting. Deep down you knew it was because there was a severe imbalance weaved in the depths of your bond.
But you couldn’t be bothered to truly acknowledge it.
Who needed a soulmate anyway?
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There had always been an indescribable tension when you were around Suho. Before, you had wrote it off as nerves from being around someone who was as prickly as he was attractive. That was before you knew the truth, of course. You two had never been close, and after finding out that he was the one on the other end of your red string, you were sure you never would be.
Which is exactly why you couldn’t figure out the reason he suddenly came up to you while you were sitting outside on one of the lone benches. He didn’t hesitate to sit next to you, the action coming naturally like it was something he did everyday.
“Jugyeong says you haven’t hung out with her in a while.” Suho said in a slow drawl. “Is it because of me?”
You wished you could’ve scoffed and told him that the world didn’t revolve around him, but you couldn’t. Because even if the world didn’t, yours did.
“I haven’t been feeling well lately.”
It was the truth. Your chest pains were only getting worse as the days went on. It was hard enough to hide it from your mother, you didn’t need the pressure of also hiding it from your classmates.
Suho didn’t seem the least bit concerned for your not-so-well-being, and it had a familiar ache nipping at your heart. You longed to see his face change with even the tiniest bit of emotion. Just so you could feel, even for a fleeting moment, that the bond wasn’t one-sided. After seeing the indifference he looked at you with, you decided to look straight ahead to spare yourself any further heartache.
“Being alone won’t make you feel any better.”
It couldn’t make you feel any worse.
Suho frowned when he saw your unchanging expression. He could never get used to the blank nothingness of it. Not when your joyful expressions had once lit up an entire room.
“I thought you’d be happy that I’m staying away from Jugyeong.” You finally said, still unwilling to look at him.
It made him happier than he cared to admit, but it didn’t make her happy. The entire point of talking to you was to bring Jugyeong the same amount of happiness she’d brought him. If it meant having to swallow his pride and ask you for yet another favor, then so be it.
“She thinks she did something to upset you.” Suho explained. “So I came to ask you to start talking to her again—as a favor.”
His impassive attitude made you feel crestfallen. You knew he couldn’t care less about the bond, about you, but it still hurt to see that he didn’t care to spare your feelings at all. It took everything in you to respond in a strong, calm tone.
“And you’re okay with me talking to her again?”
“I’m fine as long as you stick to our agreement.”
You nodded slowly, pensively. If it would make Suho happy, then you would do it.
“Okay.”
That was his cue to leave, but he found himself unwilling to do so. Immediately, Suho assumed it was because your souls were intertwined with one another which, in turn, fueled the natural instinct to be close to you. That had to be it.
Suho cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll see you around.”
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Sitting across a psychiatrist was something you never thought you would have to do again. And yet, you found yourself sitting across from the infamous Dr. Kwon. The aforementioned doctor was known worldwide for his trailblazing research on the enigmatic soulmate bond. His fame soared when he revealed that he had successfully treated people who were rejected by their soulmates. For an entire year, it was all anyone could talk about.
And like a moth to a flame, your mother was quick to reach out to his office and make an appointment for a consultation. There was a five month waiting list for this, and now it was finally your turn to meet with the prestigious psychiatrist, much to your dismay.
“There’s no need to feel nervous,” he said kindly when he noticed your uncomfortable posture. “Anything you tell me will stay between the two of us.”
You had heard the same thing countless times, but the words always seemed disingenuous no matter who they came from. Even if Dr. Kwon had treated people who had soulmate problems, you were sure that he’d never met someone like you. His eyes were kind, but you didn’t know whether you could trust him. Plenty of the other specialists had also been kind at first until they realized that treating you like a lab rat would lead to a life of fame and fortune.
“Your mother tells me that you were unofficially diagnosed with philophobia. She believes the cause of your condition is due to the fact that you are unable to see your string of fate.”
You weren’t surprised that your mom had told him everything about you already. She had made the same mistake with all the other doctors and therapists. You could deny it, but you figured if you were to become a lab rat, you couldn’t be in better hands.
“She also mentioned that you haven’t been yourself lately.”
Shit. You hadn’t thought that your mom had caught onto your behavior. The simple thought of her finding out the secret you were desperately trying to keep hidden made your stomach twist with panic.
Your shrug was uncommitted as you fought to control your expression. “She’s thought that since I told her I couldn’t see my string anymore.”
Dr. Kwon hummed. “Your mother is convinced that a severe trauma led you to lose the sight of your string. Would you mind telling me about that?”
You clutched the sleeves of your uniform as a way of comfort. Talking about that was something you never wanted to do. Somehow, spending an entire year repeating the story to countless specialists never helped you get over it. Despite that, you knew your mother wouldn’t forgive you if you didn’t make the effort to “get better.”
“Around the time I turned eleven, I found out that my parents were getting a divorce.” You began. There was a harsh edge to your words that you couldn’t control. “They were soulmates, but my dad said that he didn’t love my mom anymore.”
Dr. Kwon nodded, encouraging you to go on.
“This one day, he decided to drive me to school instead of letting me take the bus. On the way there he told me about this woman he’d met like I’d actually be happy for him or something. I got so angry that I just– I just snapped.”
It was silent for a moment before you continued.
“I told him that I hated him. That I would never forgive him for hurting my mom.” You swallowed thickly. “That was the last thing I said to him before we got into a car accident. He died on the way to the hospital.”
You didn’t realize that the moisture in your eyes was dripping down your face until Dr. Kwon handed you a tissue. He didn’t say anything for a while, and it surprised you. Most of the specialists you had seen couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves after hearing your story.
“It’s not your fault.” Dr. Kwon said. “You feel an extreme guilt, but you shouldn’t. We all say things we don’t mean, and parents know that better than anyone.”
His words were comforting, but his kind expression was marred when he started speaking like a doctor. You only half-listened to Dr. Kwon, not interested in his spiel about how making an attempt to picture your string might help. If only he knew that over the better part of your early adolescence, visualizing that stupid red string was all you did.
You hadn’t realized that your time with him was nearly over until he started writing on his clipboard. It made you feel relieved, in a way. But there was still one thing you needed. You couldn’t leave without asking him about the one thing that had been weighing on your mind.
“Doctor,” your voice was hesitant. “You’ve treated patients whose soulmates rejected the bond, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Has… Has anyone ever died from being rejected?”
Dr. Kwon shook his head. “Most of them complained about chronic chest pains, but they faded over time after they got used to being away from their soulmate.”
You swallowed thickly. That’s not what you were hoping to hear.
“So, if someone were to constantly be around the person who rejected them… it could be fatal?”
This time, you caught the subtle narrowing of his eyes. Shit. He was onto you. “Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”
“I’m just curious. You’re the only doctor who’s come close to figuring out the real effects of rejecting the bond.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but answered you anyway. “It’s possible, but I can’t be certain since I haven’t had a patient who was willing to be around their soulmate after being rejected.”
You nodded, not liking the ugly feeling in your chest.
“I’m willing to keep working with you.” He said, seemingly not interested in the motives behind your questions. “Hopefully, we can reverse your condition.”
“I have no intention of seeing the string again.”
Dr. Kwon was taken aback. “Y-You don’t? Why?”
Because I already found my soulmate and he loves someone else. The truth was on the tip of your tongue, but you knew you couldn’t tell him.
“I just don’t.”
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The first time you went an entire day without experiencing the chest pains was the same day you spent an entire lunch period with Suho.
Since the back of the school was now tainted with horrible memories, you could no longer go back there to find solace. Now your new designated safe space was the school’s rooftop. You were content with listening to music and feeling the warm breeze on your skin. It was also extremely private, which meant that if you did experience the chest pains, no one would see.
Your eyes were closed in blissful peace when you suddenly felt a presence beside you. Unaccustomed to the sudden company, you jumped with shocked fear. Once you saw that it was Suho who was sitting next to you, your heart was racing for an entirely different reason. He hadn’t said much. Unexpectedly, he asked you what you were listening to.
That’s how you found out you shared the same taste in music.
The second time you went an entire day without feeling the chest pains was the day you stumbled on a crying Suho.
He was completely overcome with grief that he didn’t seem to care that he was in the middle of the hallway. You quietly took him to the roof where he collapsed on you. The way he clutched onto you reminded you of an inconsolable child—fearful and in need of comfort. You listened to him as he told you about his late friend and his battle with depression.
Your heart ached with every word he told you, but if countless hours of therapy had taught you anything it was that venting could do wonders for the soul. Eventually, his sobs turned into sniffles. He hadn’t let go of you and vice versa.
After that, Suho didn’t say anything and neither did you. Unbeknownst to the either of you, the connection between you two had gotten stronger. There was an inexplicable congruity between you now, one that allowed you to understand and empathize with each other’s feelings.
You two never mentioned it again, but something shifted after that day.
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It had been a month since you last felt the scathing pain. Now it was only a tolerable discomfort that you grew used to. You and Suho weren’t close, he still had his girlfriend, but now there were these moments that you experienced every so often. Ones that seemed more intimate than any relationship you could ever have. Those times were the happiest you’d felt in years.
“Things are pretty serious between Suho and Jugyeong.” Soo-ah said when you two entered the lunch room. “He wants her to study abroad with him after graduation.”
This was news to you, and that familiar discomfort soon settled on the left side of your chest. In spite of knowing that nothing had changed, you still felt like a complete fool. How could you be so delusional? Suho had only been kind to you a handful of times, and you were sure it had only been out of pure instinct. It had been because the link between you two had pushed him to do it.
Suddenly, the discomfort grew into that familiar, unwelcome stabbing pain, one greater than all the others you had felt so far. You let out a loud cry, the high-pitched noise sounding horrifying even to your own ears. The dizziness never came this quickly, but now it was clouding your senses within seconds. It had you stumbling into Soo-ah, and you grabbed ahold of her sleeve to try to steady yourself. You could see her mouth moving, but her words were muted. Oh no.
The pounding in your head and the sharp pains in your chest came in waves. It didn’t take long for the dark spots to appear. Fuck.
The last thing you remembered was seeing Soo-ah and a gathering crowd above you before darkness overcame you.
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“Y/N.”
The distant sound of your name being called was enough to have you slowly opening your eyes. Your vision was blurry and unfocused. All you could make out was being in a brightly lit place that had you wincing. Where were you?
In the next second, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you. The familiar scent of your mom’s perfume made you relax.
“How are you feeling?”
It was a man’s voice who asked the question, and you nearly choked on your own spit when you saw Dr. Kwon standing beside the hospital bed. His presence shocked you since you had only met him once and weren’t officially his patient. However, you managed to assure him that you felt fine.
For a second, you thought everything would be fine. After all, there was no technology that was capable of determining that your collapse was related to your fractured soulmate bond. That is, until Dr. Kwon decided to speak up.
“You’ve met your soulmate, haven’t you?”
It wasn’t really a question. Your panicked eyes fell over to your mom. The look she gave you had you wincing. Fuck.
“What!? Y/N—”
“Mom,” you said, panicked. “It’s not– I don’t—”
“I’ve spoken with the doctor who treated you. She said that there’s been an enormous strain on your heart.” His voice had an underlying hardness that tipped you off on the anger he was feeling. “That’s why you asked me about my patients the other day, isn’t it?”
You remained silent, and it gave him his answer.
“You know who your soulmate is. They rejected the bond, but you haven’t. That’s why your chest pains have gotten worse.”
Before you could try to refute any of his claims, your mother went crazy.
“Who is it!?” She yelled. “Tell me right now so I can tell him to stop hurting my daughter!”
You attempted to calm her down, but your attempt was in vain. There was no possible way to settle her emotions. Not when her worst fear had been realized. You tried to ease her mind by reassuring her that you would go away in order to receive treatment from Dr. Kwon, not realizing that Suho was standing outside the room and heard everything.
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Dr. Kwon managed to calm your mother down and convinced her to take a walk with him. It was late in the evening now, and you felt extremely relieved to finally be left alone with your thoughts. You got all of two seconds of contemplation because in the next second, Suho pulled the door open and walked into your room.
He didn’t say anything at first, but his face was the picture of tortured. You furrowed your eyebrows, unable to understand why he seemed so distraught.
“You’re dying.” Suho’s voice trembled. “Because of me.”
The fact that he somehow found out went over your head. You wished you could say no. No it’s not because of you. But you couldn’t. Trying to reassure him would’ve been futile. He knew. You both did. The urge to cling onto the severed bond would be fatal if you didn’t get help. Despite knowing all that, you wished to ease his pain. You could’ve laughed at your own foolishness because right now it was you who was laying in the hospital bed.
“I won’t die.” You told him feebly. “I’ll leave. Once I get used to being away from you, I’ll be okay. We can both live normal lives.”
Suho wanted to tell you that he didn’t want you to leave. That his life hadn’t ever been normal, and he was fine with that as long as you could be part of it.
“You didn’t reject the bond. Why?”
You looked up at the white ceiling. The tears were pooling in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. There was no point in hiding it anymore. Not when you were hospitalized because of him.
“I can’t see my string.”
Your confession hung in the air like a dark cloud. It was silent before you decided to continue with your revelation.
“I haven’t been able to see it since I was thirteen.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “That’s why I didn’t acknowledge you when we first saw each other. I didn’t know.”
The candor of your words had Suho staggering back. It felt like someone shoved a blade straight through his heart. Finally, everything made sense. It’s not that you weren’t interested in your soulmate, it’s that you hadn’t known he was right in front of you. He couldn’t stop the tears from gathering in his eyes. What had he done?
“I’ve always wanted to meet my soulmate.” You confessed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Even after I found out that it was you and you didn’t feel the same way, I never wished that I hadn’t met you. I never wished that the bond didn’t exist.”
You knew he couldn’t say the same since the evidence of just how much he didn’t want the bond was displayed in your current physical state.
“You should leave,” you told him even though the words pained you greatly. “My mom will get suspicious if she sees you.”
Only a small piece of your heart broke when he listened to you.
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When Jugyeong and Suho broke up, it was the talk of the entire school. You yourself couldn’t make sense of the sudden separation, but you told yourself that it didn’t matter because it wasn’t any of your business.
You only said goodbye to a handful of people when the last day at Saebom High came around. Your short stay at the school didn’t give you an opportunity to make many friends, and it’s not like you truly wanted to remember your experience at the school.
Before you could walk through the front gates toward your new life, you were stopped by the sound of your name being called.
“Y/N!”
You turned, feeling your eyes widen when you were suddenly wrapped up in your soulmate’s warm embrace. His sudden change in attitude shocked you so much that you weren’t sure how to react.
“Don’t leave me. Please.”
For the first time since you’d met Suho, you felt no need to placate him. After everything that happened, you couldn’t go back on the promise you made to your mother. You needed to get better. Not for Suho, but for yourself.
“I’m sorry.” You were sincere. “This time, I’m leaving you behind.”
He pulled back. The pain in his eyes was another strike to your chest, but you knew you couldn’t give in.
“Goodbye, Lee Suho.”
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cockslut-padalecki · 8 months ago
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All The Good Girls Go To Hell (Epilogue)
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Summary: When Sam marries into Y/N’s family he naively believes she’s a little princess incapable of putting a step wrong. But once he comes face to face with evidence that proves she’s far from angelic which also implicates his own brother in her misdeeds, Sam finds himself battling against his own moral judgement.
Characters: Step Dad!Sam x Step Daughter!Reader, Uncle!Dean x Niece!Reader.
Words: 1160.
Warnings: stepfather/stepdaughter relationship, step uncle/step niece relationship, oral sex (male and female receiving), sexting, rough sex, major degradation, dirty talk, female masturbation, daddy kink, size kink, cheesy double entendres, Dean’s filthy whore mouth, consensual amateur pornography, thigh riding, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, threesomes, face/throat fucking, overstimulation, dom/sub themes, Sammy being an absolute deviant, cream pies, sloppy seconds, cum eating, spit-roasting, a little angst, mentions of grooming, mentions of rape. Assume all tags will apply to every chapter and warnings may differ/alter as story progresses.
A/N: I’m so much happier with where I’m leaving this story this time around, and while I’m sad to say goodbye to these characters, it is time to put them to bed now. All of your comments and love have meant everything to me. Beta: @deanwanddamons but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Masterlists can be found in my pinned post. Subscribe to Patreon and get access to fics, just like this one, two weeks before Tumblr for as little as $3.
SERIES MASTERLIST
Six Years Later
“Good morning Sandra,” Sam chirps happily, flashing his secretary a courteous smile. The older lady had a kind face and an even kinder soul, but there was a side to her that terrified most people who didn’t know her that well. Nobody ever wanted to rub Sandra up the wrong way, and if they did, god help them. It also helped that she was fiercely protective of Sam, and would never divulge any information that crossed her desk— confidential or not to anyone, not even her husband. 
Lawyers required discretion, and Sandra had been the perfect choice from the moment Sam interviewed her regardless of the fact she had already come highly recommended from his parents. 
“Good morning Samuel,” she replies sweetly, “I trust you had a good weekend?” 
“I did, thank you.” He can’t help but smirk— reminded of the flexible yoga-loving brunette from the bar he met late Friday evening, spending all of Saturday between her legs, and Sunday indulging in a lazy brunch with her, before sharing the afternoon with Dean, dissecting the game over a couple of beers. 
“How was yours?” he asks. 
“Oh, just the usual,” Sandra comments, and Sam slowly nods as if he knows exactly what ‘the usual’ entails, but as always, she remains ever the professional. In all the years she has worked for him, he hadn’t even come to know her husband’s name. 
“Here’s your bagel.” She hands him a small, brown paper bag, folded over neatly at the top and Sam quickly thanks her. “And you should probably know that your new intern is in your office.” 
“Already? It’s not even nine am.” He casts a glance down at his watch, noticing the second hand has only just passed a quarter to the hour. Normally with any of the other interns he’d had in the past, they mostly had a poor concept of time, blustering through the door with only a minute to spare to get themselves into order, but usually were too flustered by their nerves to properly do so. 
However, to know that his newest student is already here, waiting for Sam to arrive, puts him a little on edge. 
Sandra shrugs, “She must know you really dislike latecomers.” 
Sam scoffs at his secretary’s comment, knowing it to be true. He really did hate people who had no concept of being on time, which is why whenever he made plans with Dean, he would always tell his older brother to meet him an hour earlier than they needed to— saving the younger Winchester from tearing his hair out while he waited for him to eventually show up. 
“What college is she joining us from? Jim did mention it to me before he left for vacation, but I’ve forgotten.”
“I think she’s in her first year of grad school. I have the information somewhere in here.” She begins rummaging through her diary in search of the details. “Would you like me to let you know once I do find it?” 
“That won’t be necessary,” he reassures. “I can just ask her myself.” 
“Of course, I understand.”
“Thank you. Could you hold my calls until I’m done here?” he asks, cocking his head towards the door. 
“Even if Mr. Crowley makes contact?” 
“Mr. Crowley is barely human before lunchtime, so I think we’re safe,” Sam chuckles and she smiles softly at his light joke. He takes the natural end to their conversation as a means to leave her to work through the messages and emails left for him, while he edges towards his office door, pushing it open as quietly as possible. 
His eyes fall immediately on the girl sitting rigid in her seat, a small, compact bag placed on the floor next to her heeled feet. She doesn’t turn when he enters, instead her gaze remains on the award-filled wall behind his desk. He slowly strides over, placing the bakery bag down as he lets his briefcase drop to the floor next to his fancy leather swivel chair. 
“So,” he starts, mindlessly shuffling through the pile of paperwork he had left on his desk last night before sitting down, and finally takes the moment to casually glance up at the young woman. 
His breath instantly catches in his throat. 
“Y/N?!”
“Surprise,” she smiles wide and Sam feels warmth start to roll in the pit of his stomach. She still has the same beautiful radiance that made him fall in love with her in the first place, but there’s a new edge to her now— a strange sort of maturity that she lacked before. Womanhood and five years of serious law-focused education had clearly moulded her into the ethereal presence sitting before him.
His eyes dart around the room, almost like he’s waiting for someone else to pop out from the small, discreet bathroom situated to his left, laughing at the joke they’ve played on him, but the door remains closed. Nobody’s hiding behind the floor length curtains at the windows, and the space beneath his desk is empty. This is not a joke. 
“You’re my new intern?” 
“Were you expecting someone else?” 
“Well, yeah,” he stammers, “you were the last person on my mind, I mean, you’re always on my mind but not like this, I just— I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you, like, ever again. I’m a little out of sorts.”
She fidgets in her chair, pulling at the hem of her skirt nervously, “I’ve been terrified since I got the position, scared you’d find out and tell me to go elsewhere.”
“I’d never do that.”
“But I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
Sam beams. “It’s just so good to see you, Y/N.” 
He honestly thought after all this time away from her, he’d feel differently, but the feelings he tried to quash with meaningless sex with yoga instructors and nutritional therapists are stronger than ever. 
She returns his smile, and Sam changes the subject quickly— deciding they’re heading into dangerous territory if they let the tension he can feel prickling at his skin stew between them any longer. He starts off by asking a few questions about her degree and grad school before they enter into a discussion about the internship and what he would expect of her while she worked for him. She took all of the information in her stride, not once blanching at the workload that would be coming up in the next couple of weeks when his new case began. She genuinely seemed interested in helping and Sam can only admire her determination to get started.
“So, do you have any questions for me?” he eventually queries as the formalities come to an end.
She nods almost tentatively. “Just the one.” There’s a pause as she gathers herself. “But I fear it may be a little… unorthodox in our current situation.”
Sam merely shrugs. “Shoot.”
“Would you prefer it if I called you Mr. Winchester or Daddy?”
***
Please note I have tagged you if you showed interest in the story so far. If you’d like to be taken off, please let me know.
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lux-i-fer · 4 months ago
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On Why Dan Could Have Replaced Rory's Character:
Someone tell me why we had to get Angsty Emo Teen Upset at Her Father For Something He Hasn't Done Yet instead of a genuine discussion between Dan and Lucifer about the real reason behind Lucifer refusing to bring him to Earth to exist as a ghost. Like you're kidding right? Lucifer explaining to Dan that having to watch your loved ones suffer without being able to comfort them not being something that he wants for his friend to experience is ten times more powerful than listening to Lucifer profess his undying love for a random time traveling daughter who absolutely despises him.
If the showrunners really wanted to show that Lucifer was finding his calling why not do it with Dan? Dan has been the butt of Lucifer's jokes for so long and it's only been recently that they've become friends, especially with Dan's betrayal in s5. Lucifer showing genuine sympathy for Dan's situation and sitting down with him to explain how torturous it will be to exist on Earth as a ghost would be a much more realistic approach to the Lucifer discovering that he doesn't want to become God storyline.
Lucifer opening up to Dan and using his past experiences with immortality (ie. watching people you love grow old/move on and not be able to do anything about it) would have been such a touching scene.
Instead of hiding the truth about escaping Hell from Dan, Lucifer should have sat him down and gave him the option to choose. For the sake of maintaining plot consistency, Dan would have still chosen to go to Earth as a ghost. Then, when he does become a ghost, Dan quickly realizes that Lucifer was right. He demands that Lucifer fix this situation, but Lucifer insists that he can't change Dan's situation since he has yet to assume the celestial throne. However, he tells Dan, in order to maintain the balance of the universe, he wouldn't be allowed to save Dan, even if he was God. This discussion would set up the dominos for Dan to start looking for ways to ascend to Heaven and allow Lucifer to double down on his doubts about becoming God.
That simple plot fix would eliminate the need for Rory and spare us a confusing new character introduction in the last season. Not to mention that it would change literally nothing about the rest of the "Lucifer becomes the Hell Therapist" arc.
I feel like it would have given so much more purpose to Dan's ghost arc and would have given Lucifer a jumping off point to start reexamining why he wants to be God.
Tldr: Rory is a pointless character. The writers should have just used the characters that they'd already spent six seasons developing instead of jamming someone's oc in at the eleventh hour.
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melwilson · 10 months ago
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lonely people | b.b.
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
rating: fluff
warnings: slow burn. kinda long.
a/n: i’m not dead. i just had zero inspiration. here’s to me kinda getting my groove back. it took me way too long to finish this, but i think y’all will like it. it’s one of my faves.
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People were...people.
And people were complicated.
That’s all you could really say to describe your relationships, or lack thereof. You could blame it on your social anxiety or undeveloped communication skills or just the sole fact that you strongly despised the human race. In fact, you could spend the rest of your life alone in your apartment and you’d be fine, but your therapist mentioned that loneliness was damaging. No one deserves to be alone, she had said. Maybe she was right, you just shrugged it off. You had been alone most of your life. It wasn’t something that you shut the door on like a nosy neighbor. You welcomed the solace being alone provided. A comfort and a calm that couldn’t be interrupted. However, the words of your therapist seemed to etch themselves permanently in the back of your mind. You could hear her calm, almost motherly, voice as you carried on with your week.
You need friends, Y/n. You need people that you can relate to and depend on. I’m the only human contact you get every week and yes, you can depend on me, but you need someone else. Anyone else.
You sighed, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to rid your mind of her voice. Making friends was something children did. You were a grown ass adult who still panicked when it was your turn to pay in the grocery line. Getting to know someone required putting yourself out there. Being vulnerable, but before that you just actually had to talk...to another human. Which you weren’t good at. But maybe, just maybe, Dr. Smith’s voice would go away if you gave it a shot.
So, you got up and got dressed in your favorite hoodie and jeans and topped it off with a pair of hightop converse. You weren’t exactly sure where you were going to go, but the coffee shop down the street was always your first stop before you went anywhere. It was apart of the routine. No, it didn’t inspire change. It was small and quiet, the people were nice, and the coffee was five star. It was the perfect place for you to pop in every now and then and gain that sense of familiarity. You ordered the same thing every time; vanilla sweet cream cold brew. The first time you walked in, it’s the what the barista recommended. You figured that he knew best, so you went with it. Now, every time you grace the coffee shop with your presence, you don’t even make it up to the counter before they start on your order.
“How’ve you been, Y/n?” Your favorite barista, Donnie, wore a kind smile as you leaned against the counter. He was a tall redhead who always seemed to be working the same days you went in. It was comforting and regular.
“Good,” you said honestly, “Sorry, I haven’t come down to see you. I bought the Keurig you recommended. It works wonders for an introverted individual.”
Donnie chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re saying it’s my fault?”
“Precisely,” You hummed as he slid you your daily dose of caffeine. “You’re the best, Don.” You slid him a ten and he just glanced up at you. “On the house...I know,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “It’s a tip.” Before he could protest, you were half way out the door and stepping out onto the busy Brooklyn streets. Immediately, you shoved your left hand in your hoodie pocket, making your body as small as possible. Trying to walk through downtown Brooklyn would have been impossible for you a year ago. It was too crowded, too many bodies, too much noise. It was overwhelming. Even now, it still overwhelmed you, but your sessions with Dr. Smith had made controlling your anxiety easier.
Taking a hard right, you cut through an empty alley that was a shortcut to your apartment. You had gotten out of your house today. That was enough for you. Tomorrow, you had a session with Dr. Smith.
The office building that Dr. Smith worked in was nice. Really nice. The whole building was reinforced glass, whites, grays, and blacks bringing to the modern feel. It was a great contrast to the red, brick buildings that bore the history of the city. Today, the sun radiated throughout the whole building bringing it’s warmth and a multitude of people with it. There were different businesses in the building, a dentist on floor eight and an insurance company on floor ten, so, naturally there were always people in and out of the elevator. Today, though, there was a lot of people. You had managed to squeeze your way to the back, your shoulders brushing over the ones next to you. You fingers meddled with the gold rings that you rarely took off, eyes casted at the floor. Your breathing was quick and shallow and the small child who couldn’t seem to take their eyes off of you only made it worse.
When the elevator dinged and a bright red ‘NINE’ ran across the screen, you shoved your way out of the steal box and tumbled into the waiting room. You were almost gasping for air as you approached the front desk.
“Too many people?”
You nodded meeting a pair of green eyes. Cynthia was probably the nicest lady you had ever met. She was nearing 40 and married with a couple of a kiddos that you seen running around the offices. She wore a kind smile and had a soothing voice that you could listen to all day. “You changed you hair color?” Her usual brown hair, was now blonde with brown highlights. It was pretty, but it was different.
“Yeah,” Cynthia sighed, running a hand through her long locks, “Ready for a change, I suppose.”
You nodded, signing your name on the check-in sheet.
Change. Even the thought made you wanna puke. Brooklyn, New York had been your home all of the 25 years you had been alive. You knew the streets like the back of your hand. You knew what diners were the best, how to get from one place to another without getting stuck in traffic, the best and worst places to live, the names of the all the older men and women whose businesses were still kicking. Brooklyn was all you had ever known. It’s all you wanted to know. You didn’t want different. You didn’t want something you would have to get used to, something you would have to learn. You had discovered that even the smallest inconveniences were hard for you deal with. Like right now, two teenagers were in your seat. The black leather couch that you had grown accustomed to was taken. You stopped, your breath hitching ever-so slightly. The only available spot was next to a man with cropped brown hair and a brooding appearance that made you want to settle for the tile floors.
Get over yourself, L/n, you said to yourself. The man only glanced at you when you sat down next to him. He shuffled over to give you more space and that’s when you noticed his gloved hands. It was 60 degrees out and sunny. Why this man was wearing gloves, you weren’t going to ask. You just shrunk further into your seat, your knee bouncing with every second that ticked by. A few minutes passed and you could feel the man’s eyes on you. You caught a glimpse of his steel blue eyes before he looked away.
“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath.
You shook your head. “Uh, don’t worry about it.”
Minutes of uncomfortable silence seemed to go on forever until your name was called. You stood up wiping the imaginary dust off your jeans, not sparing the unknown man a glance before disappearing down the hallway.
“Make any friends this week?” Dr. Smith asked. Her glasses were perched atop of her nose, her brown eyes already searching for a lie.
“I went to see Donnie.”
She rolled her eyes, clicking her pen twice. “Did you make any new friends?”
You sighed, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. “I talked to a guy in the lobby before today’s session.”
Dr. Smith hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get this guys name or number?”
“No, but he wore gloves. Who wears gloves in the middle of spring?” You asked, more to yourself than to the shrink.
“That’s James,” Dr. Smith revealed. Her first name was Marlinda, most called her Mar. “War vet. He doesn’t get out much either. You two might be good for each other. I want you to talk to him.”
You groaned. “Mar-“
“Y/n. You are 25 years and have no friends. No one to talk to. You. Are. Alone. And I know that’s hard for you to hear and you may not understand nor realize it. I want you to have a life, Y/n. I want you experience things without being crippled by your anxiety. But it’s going to take work. Work that you have to do. There are mountains you’ll have to go over and valleys you’ll need to travel through. But I will not allow you to let your anxiety control you.”
You swallowed thickly, Dr. Smith’s words hitting you like a ton of bricks. Her words were genuine. She wanted to see you be free, but they were stern. You met her eyes before glancing out the window. “I’m trying, Mar. I just don’t know how to do it.”
“Start by getting James’ number. I expect good news next week.” You nodded, standing to your feet. You stuffed your hands into the pocket of your hoodie as you trudged over to the door. “And Y/n?” 
You turned around raising an eyebrow. 
“You’re more than your anxiety.” Mar’s voice was soft and didn’t have the edge to it like it usually did. You could only send her half a smile before grabbing the door handle and walking out of the office. 
It rained for three days straight after your session with Mar. You spent those three days moping in your apartment. Most of time, the rain didn’t bother you. You loved the rain. You loved the cozy atmosphere and the peace those gray, rumbling clouds brought. You would always turn on a good movie or pick out a book to read. You sighed as you read the same line for nearly the tenth time. Your mind was elsewhere. It was cluttered. Dr. Smith’s words rolling around in your head like a bowling ball. You’re more than your anxiety. 
“For goodness sake,” you muttered under your breath. You stood up from your couch and made your way into your room. “This’ll have to do.” You were in a pair of light wash jeans, a plain back tee, windbreaker on top, and the same pair of converse from a few days ago. You grabbed your phone, keys, and wallet before heading out the door. The rain had slowed down just enough for you to reach Brooklyn Roasting Company. As soon as you stepped in the door, the floodgates opened and thunder rumbled in the sky. You shrugged off your jacket as you approached the counter, catching the sight of the familiar mop of red hair. 
“I get to see you twice in a week,” Donnie said catching your gaze. “Someone’s getting adventurous.” 
You scoffed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I’ll grab your cold brew, but I hope that you didn’t plan on sitting in your usual seat.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows following Donnie’s gaze to the man sitting in your seat..the one next to the window. You recognized the cropped brown hair, sharp jawline, and gloved hands. 
“You think you could bring that cold brew to my table?” 
“Yeah, give me a couple of minutes.” 
You muttered thanks. 
Start by getting James’ number...
You’re more than your anxiety. 
You sucked in a sharp breath, your feet carrying you over to the table James was sitting at. You cleared your throat when he didn’t notice you at first. His eyes ran over your frame, a hint of confusion mixing in with the ocean blue. 
“H-hi,” your voice was soft and you smiled, nervousness laced in your eyes. “Do you, uh, mind if I sit here?” 
James’ eyes looked at the empty tables behind you and then to the seat across from him. “No. It’s all yours.” An awkward silence fell between the two of you, your eyes focused on the rain drops rolling down the windows. 
“Vanilla sweet cream cold brew for the pretty lady,” Donnie said, interrupting the silence. 
“Thanks, Don,” you said with a small smile. He nodded mouthing, ‘good luck,’ before sending you a wink and heading back into the kitchen. 
“You’re the girl from the therapists office?” James’ voice was deep and smooth. 
You nodded taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m Y/n.” 
“Bucky.” 
“Bucky,” you repeated, his name falling effortlessly from your lips. You both liked the way it rolled off your tongue so easily. You glanced out the window and then back at Bucky. He looked tired, dark circles starting to form under his eyes, but that didn’t take away from his striking features. There was a light stubble lining his jawline almost up to his high cheek bones. His blue eyes stuck out against his pail skin, long eyelashes grazing his skin when he blinked. He wore the same black jacket he had adorned at therapy, black jeans, and black combat boots. You could see a dark blue shirt poking out at the top, dog tags hanging loosely around his neck. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”
“The pleasure is mine, Y/n.”
Bucky couldn’t get his knee to stop moving. Up and down, up and down. Faster and faster. He was waiting. Waiting for you. You ended up spending nearly an hour at the coffee shop together. Few words were exchanged, but neither of you really desired to talk. It was the presence of another person that both of you were content with. Bucky glanced at the clock, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth. He had ten minutes before his session and he really wanted to see you. Another minute passed and soon enough you were stepping out of the elevator. At just the sight of you, Bucky’s knee came to slow, his shoulders relaxing.
“Hi,” you said softly. You sounded almost out of breath, your chest rising and falling quicker than normal.
Bucky sent you a small tug of his lips as you sat down next to him. “Hey.” No other words were exchanged.
The following week, you were late and missed getting a chance to see Bucky before your session.
“I made a friend...I think,” you told Mar.
“James?” Mar questioned.
“Bucky,” you corrected sitting back in your seat.
A small but proud smile graced Mar’s lips. You didn’t realize it, but there was an ever so small light in your eyes that she saw. A light that she had been trying to dig out of you since your first session. “And did you get Bucky’s number?”
You shook your head. “I talked to him though. I took the first step and asked if I could sit at his table. I sit next to him in the waiting room before sessions. He’s- he’s nice.”
“There was a time when I thought your smile would never reach your eyes,” Mar said honestly. “I’m glad to see you’ve changed my mind.”
The next week, you got there before Bucky. You were half and hour early. Why?
You wanted to spend time with a friend.
Ten minutes later, Bucky stepped out of the elevator his eyes searching the room until they landed on you.
“You didn’t come last week.”
You slid over so the brunette could sit. “I didn’t miss. I was late.” Bucky hummed. “You miss me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, L/n,” the man scoffed.
“You can admit it. Besides, it’s nice to know someone enjoys having me around. I like having you around too.”
Cynthia called your name before Bucky got a chance to respond. You stood up, sending him a smile before disappearing down the hallway.
“Leaving so soon?”
You jumped, your hand flying to your chest, heart beating wildly. You turned to face Bucky who was leaning against the glass building, a smug smile playing on his lips.
“What the hell, Barnes?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Bucky said pushing himself off the wall. The sunlight only seemed to illuminate Bucky’s features further.
“Yes, you did,” you deadpanned.
“You’re right,” Bucky shrugged, “I did.”
You rolled your eyes continuing down the street. Bucky caught up with you quickly, his stride matching yours. “What do you want, Buck?”
“I wanna...hang.”
You stopped in your tracks, your eyes narrowing. “You want to...hang?”
“Um, yeah. If-if that’s okay with you.” Bucky seemed nervous as you guys moved out of the way of those trying to avoid you.
Your eyes softened. “That’s more than okay with me, Bucky. You got anywhere in mind?”
“You’re place?”
Bucky was in your space. Your space. If someone didn’t out right tell what they were really like, their home definitely did.
It smells good in here, Bucky thought to himself. Your apartment was exactly how Bucky pictured it to be. Simple, yet organized. The living room held a gray couch and two plush chairs, a TV mounted on the wall. A glass coffee table sat in the middle, a few books and a half consumed coffee cup on top. You dropped your jacket over the back of the couch, noticing how Bucky was still standing by your door.
“Can I get you anything?” You offered.
Bucky shifted his weight into his right leg. “I’ll take a water.”
As you reached into the refrigerator, you could hear Bucky’s footsteps against the hardwood floors. When you looked up, he had taken a seat at the countertop, his jacket and gloves still on. You tossed him the water which he caught with ease.
“What?” Bucky asked. Your arms were crossed over your chest, that look of curiosity that he had grown to recognize on your face.
“You gonna take your jacket off?”
“I’m comfortable,” Bucky shrugged.
“I’ve known you for a month, James.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed at the use of first name. “What could be so bad that you have to hide it from me?”
Bucky was quiet for a moment and when he looked at you there was a sadness laced in his eyes. “A lot.”
You pushed yourself off the counter moving to sit next to the larger man. “We’re both messed up, Buck. If I can’t handle your flaws, then I shouldn’t call myself your friend. Look, you don’t have to tell me or show me, but you’re kinda all I got so I’m always gonna be here.”
“I just need some time,” Bucky said softly.
You nodded placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” you gestured towards the tv, “You said you wanted to hang.”
This hang out continued. Every week, Bucky would come and spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with you after therapy. He slowly started to loosen up around you and you around him.
“So, he’s your best friend?” Mar asked.
“Um, yeah,” you nodded, “You could put it like that.”
Mar stared at you for a moment, her eyes studying your face. You shifted in your seat, your knee bouncing slightly. Her stare made you uncomfortable. She knew you better than anyone so whatever she was going to say was going to hit you deep. “You like him.”
You choked on air, your eyes wide. “I- what?”
Mar rolled her eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Y/n. You’ve fallen for him.”
“Mar-“
“Y/n, it’s okay,” she said noticing the scared look laced in your eyes. “You’re allowed to feel again. You know, when you walked into this office you only spoke...maybe ten words to me. You hated it. You hated me. You didn’t want to trust anyone because you lost someone.”
“...I lost everyone,” you said softly.
“I know,” Mar agreed, “but you allowed yourself to let Bucky in and you’ve only known him for two months. He’s special to you-“
“He’s all that I have, Mar.”
“So why not give him all that you have?”
There were tears threatening to spill. “Because everyone that I’ve ever loved, I’ve lost.”
“But it wasn’t your fault. What happened to your dad came with the job, okay? And we both know that it’s better that your mom was not in your life. And your grandparents? They hung on until you were legally an adult. Loss is apart of life, Y/n. It’s not something you can run from and hope never happens.”
“But it hurts,” your voice was barely above a whisper, but the pain was there.
“It’s supposed to because you cared. I know that you’re scared, but you and James both deserve someone who cares and loves unconditionally.”
The next day, there was a knock on your door.
“It’s open!” you called from the couch. You knew Bucky was planning to come over. He had texted you a few hours before asking what you wanted from the coffee shop. You heard the door slam shut and Bucky’s shuffling from behind the couch.
“Hey,” he said. He extended his arm to hand you your cold brew except in front of you was metal. Your eyes raked up the metal arm until you met Bucky’s blue eyes. His bottom lip was tugged between his teeth, jacket and gloves discarded. He was waiting for your reaction. Waiting for you to kick him out and tell him that you never wanted to see him again in account of what he had done. But that didn’t happen.
“I knew it,” you muttered softly.
Bucky was tense as he sat down next to you. “You knew what?”
“I’m not an idiot, Bucky. I started to piece things together. The gloves, the jacket, your overall hatred for humanity..”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”
“Because I knew that you’d tell me when you were comfortable,” you shrugged. You sank down in your seat taking a drink of your coffee.
You could see from your peripheral, Bucky setting his coffee on the table, his body moving closer to yours, knees touching. He took your hand in his metal one squeezing it gently. “Thank you.”
You responded by bring the black and gold metal to your lips. The gesture caused both you and Bucky to freeze. Neither of you were used to displays of affection, giving or receiving. It wasn’t hard to tell that both of you were touch deprived and longing for something gentle and real. Even though Bucky couldn’t really feel your kiss, the gesture was enough for him to realize how special you were. His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he craved more. He wanted to feel every inch of you, not just your body, but your heart, and your soul. He wanted to know you, all of you. He wanted to know how you liked your eggs cooked, your favorite song, what books you were reading, what made you laugh, what made you cry, your favorite places to eat, your favorite movies. Bucky wanted you.
“I’m sorry,” you said, the heat crawling up your neck. “I- it felt right. Everything with you feels right.” Bucky could sense that there was more you wanted to say, so he stayed silent, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. “When I met you, I wasn’t looking for anything. I actually was against relationships as a whole. But then I met you. And that was...it just happened, I guess. I found myself wanting to spend time with you. And then I found myself falling for you. It was simple and easy. I was comfortable. I think that’s how the best relationships start. You’re not looking and then there’s something. Someone. You’re my someone.”
Bucky’s heart swelled at your confession. God, I don’t deserve her, he thought to himself. He didn’t think that it was possible to have someone feel that way about him, nor did you think it was possible to feel the way you felt about Bucky.
“This whole relationship thing...I don’t really know how to do it,” Bucky said, his voice low and laced with a kind of disappointment. “I’m not sure I remember how to love or what it’s like to be loved, but I’m will to try for you. You’re all I got and you’re all I want, Y/n L/n.”
You sent him a sweet smile, a smile that reached your eyes and was filled with warmth. Suddenly, the distance between you was slim to none, your breaths mingling together. Bucky’s hands had found themselves gripping at your waist pulling you impossibly close. You were hoping he couldn’t hear your thundering heartbeat, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth. Before you lost the courage, you pressed your lips softly against Bucky’s. It was as if time stopped for this moment. The kiss was sweet, the feeling strange and foreign but you welcomed the change. Your lips seemed to fit together perfectly as Bucky took the lead, clearly more experienced. When you pulled away, Bucky grunted chasing your lips hungry for more.
“Damn,” you muttered, chest heaving. “That was...nice?”
“Nice?” Bucky laughed. It was probably the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. “You’re an angel, ya know that?”
A shy smile tugged at your cheeks as you placed your head on Bucky’s shoulder. You two had a lot to learn about yourselves, about each other, about relationships. And you were scared....terrified. But as you sat there, a warm feeling turning in your stomach, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, you decided that the risk was worth it. And the man next to you was worth everything.
tag list: @hellishseaqueen
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specialagentsergio · a year ago
Text
baby kiss it better
summary: When D.C. implements a lockdown order, you and Spencer decide to quarantine together. There’s just one problem—he’s working from home, and his coworkers don’t know about you.
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
category: fluff
content warnings: a few swear words, but otherwise it’s just fluff
a/n: ahh, the secret partner trope. how i love it. this is set in 2020, but with the season 5 cast! i was feeling particularly self-indulgent, so i made reader a night shift worker. this is for you, fellow night owls. stay safe out there everyone, and wear a mask!
a/n 2: i don’t actually know what a doctor or physical therapist would recommend for spencer’s knee injury. this is just going on my basic understanding of anatomy (i took a class in it this fall!) and what i've seen on grey’s anatomy lol.
word count: 2.2k
masterlist
Spencer tries not to grimace as he shifts in his chair. Working from home during the lockdown had initially seemed like it came at a great time, starting just a month after his knee injury. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about having to do almost everything digitally, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being mobile.
Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a downside. Tethered to his seat by headphones, he hasn’t been able to get up and stretch his leg properly, and as a result, is experiencing more pain.
It’s only 8:30, but he can already feel it flaring up. It’s been happening earlier every day, likely due to the existing irritation from the day before. Today is Thursday, and he’s miserable—he dreads to think of what tomorrow will be like.
He’s wondering if there’s some way he could get out of work tomorrow when he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked. He looks up to see you pushing the door open with your shoulder, carrying far too many grocery bags than is reasonable.
“Be careful!” he exclaims, watching as you teeter to the side a little. You just wave him off and close the door with your heel.
Working from home may not have been the positive he was expecting it to be, but you’ve more than made up for it. The two of you had decided to quarantine together, and he’s really loved having you around. Granted, you’ve only been here since Sunday, but he’s starting to think that this is going to end with him asking you to move in with him for good.
He hears a thunk as you dump all the groceries on the kitchen table. Then you’re back in the living room, taking off your mask as you walk by so you can blow him a kiss. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to hide his smile.
Usually you give him a proper cheek or forehead kiss when you get home, but the team doesn’t know about you yet. It’s not that he’s necessarily keeping you a secret, he just... likes having you to himself, and he doesn’t really want it to change just yet.
He’s also not looking forward to the pitch Garcia’s voice is going to hit when she finds out he’s been dating someone for over a year without telling her.
“Are you listening, Reid?” Hotch’s voice makes Spencer focus back in on the screen.
“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking that this choice of rope to bind the victims is interesting.” He doles out a few facts about it, which seems to do an adequate job of convincing everyone that he’s paying attention.
They take a break when the main briefing is over—Jack needs something from Hotch and Sergio has apparently knocked something breakable off of Emily’s kitchen counter. He slides his headphones off and mutes his mic. Apparently that’s a cue you’ve been waiting for, because only a few moments later you’re placing a mug of tea on his desk.
“Green tea,” you say. “Might help reduce the inflammation in your knee.” Then you’re lifting his foot off the small stool it’s resting on and sliding another pillow under it so his leg is more elevated.
“Wh—“ he starts, but you’re already hurrying back into the kitchen. You come back with a baggie of ice wrapped in a dishtowel in your hands, which you place it gently on top of his knee.
“Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off,” you say. “Then repeat with heat instead, like your physical therapist said. I’ll get the heating pad from the bedroom.”
“Hey, wait.” Spencer snags your wrists before you can walk away again. “How’d you know it was hurting?”
“Oh, I always know,” you reply. “You should have realized that by now.”
He thinks on that as you leave to get the heating pad, sipping his tea. You do always seem to just know, whether he’s in physical pain, a bad case is bothering him, or even if he’s just in a bad mood and doesn’t know why himself.
Not a day goes by where he doesn’t feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.
“I’m leaving it by this outlet behind you. Have you been doing your stretches?”
He bites his lip, hesitating because he knows you won’t like the answer. But he doesn’t have to say it; you can tell from his expression.
“Spencer. You know you need to be doing them.”
“I know, I do,” he insists. “I just... can’t really get up and do them with these headphones.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so take them off. Your laptop has speakers.”
“But I don’t want to disturb you,” he protests. Since you work the night shift, you sleep during the day, usually heading to bed around 11 AM. He doesn’t want the noise from the Zoom calls to keep you up. Much like the bullpen in the FBI building, the calls can get rowdy.
“You won’t,” you assure. “I’ll just shut the bedroom door.”
“I guess that works,” he relents. “But I feel weird getting up and stretching in front of everyone. Like, wouldn’t that be disruptive?”
You sigh. “Spencer, I understand it’ll make you self-conscious, but you want full mobility in your knee again, right?”
“Yeah, I do, I get it,” he says sullenly, looking down into his mug. “I need to do the stretches if I want it to heal well.”
“Hey.” You take one of his hands and squeeze it. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just want you to get better and be in less pain. I don’t like to see you hurting.”
“You’re not annoying me. I guess I’m just... not really used to being taken care of,” he admits quietly.
“Well, I’m gonna fix that.”
The confidence in your voice makes him unable to hold back a smile. “Alright.”
You smile back. “Is there anything else I can do?”
Spencer’s about to tell you that you’ve done plenty when an idea strikes him. He tilts his head to the side. “Well, there is something.”
“Yes?”
“There’s some research—nothing too substantial, but still some—that says kisses can help relieve pain,” he says.
You laugh, but it’s not unkind. “Oh, so you want me to kiss it better?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing away shyly.
“Okay, then.” You tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his forehead. “Better?” you ask softly.
He hums. “Better.”
“Good.” You stand back up and stretch. “Well, I’ll be awake for a few more hours, so let me know if you need anything.”
“I will.”
Spencer puts his headphones back on—he wants to wait to unplug them until you go to bed to spare you from hearing anything gruesome—and looks back at the screen to find Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Garcia staring him down. Rather hesitantly, he unmutes his mic and asks, “What?”
Emily is grinning—she looks the more awake than she has all morning. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?” she asks.
“Yeah, Spence,” JJ chimes in, “any new developments in your life?”
“I don’t—” he starts, then it hits him like a truck. He remembered to mute his mic, but the camera was still on. Clearly, they all saw you kiss his forehead. He barely stops himself from hitting his head against the table; he covers his face with his hands instead and groans.
“Isn’t the whole point of all this that we stay away from other people?” Morgan asks, and Spencer doesn’t have to look up to know that Derek has a shit-eating grin on his face.
“People outside of your household,” he corrects without thinking.
“Oh my god!” Garcia shrieks and he winces, pulling the headphones off out of instinct. He’s not the only one—JJ jumps and yanks her earbuds out, and Derek lifts one side of his headphones away from his ear. Spencer hesitantly copies him, putting one half of his headphones back on.
“Jesus, Pen, you scared the shit out of Sergio,” Emily’s saying.
“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says, then turns her attention completely to Spencer. “Boy wonder. You’re living with someone and I’m just now hearing about it?”
“I mean, you never asked,” he points out.
“Well, I didn’t think I’d have to!” she huffs. “You usually tell your friends if you’re seeing someone new, let alone living with them!”
“You do, maybe. Emily and I don’t,” he says.
Emily herself shrugs. “Good point. Fair enough, Reid.”
“Besides, we’re not living together,” he continues, “We’re quarantining together.”
“Right, because that’s such a big difference,” JJ teases. He glares at her in return.
Rossi returns to his desk before Penelope can start bombarding Spencer with questions. But there’s no reprieve for him—the man takes one look around and knows something’s up. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks.
“We just found out pretty boy has a partner,” Morgan sing-songs before Spencer can say anything.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah.”
“And he didn’t tell any of us!” Garcia adds.
Spencer groans again and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything,” he mutters.
A knocking sound draws his attention away from the call. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You okay?” you ask. “I just heard you groan.”
Spencer mutes his mic again and then leans over so he’s out of the camera’s frame. “They found out,” he sighs.
“Found out what?”
“Found out about... you.”
Realization crosses your face. “They saw me kissing you better?”
“Yeah. I forgot the camera was still on,” he says sheepishly.
“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You make your way over to him and take the ice off his knee. “It’s been twenty minutes, by the way.”
“Thanks. So, um...” He picks up the fidget toy you bought him when he was going stir-crazy in the hospital and starts messing with it. “What do you wanna do about this?”
“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” you reply immediately.
“Okay, good answer,” he says. “But I actually want to know how you feel about this.”
“Well, I’m fine with meeting them, even if it’s just over Zoom. But if you’d rather wait, I’m fine with that, too. Really,” you add when he raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, well.” Spencer looks back at the screen. Hotch has returned now, and even though he can’t hear anything, it’s clear they’re all waiting on him. Best to just do this now, he thinks, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it all day. “How would you feel about meeting them right now?”
You blink. “Um, okay. So long as you don’t mind me looking like I was up all night, because, you know... I was.”
“You look fine,” he reassures. “Uh, just stay put for a second. Let me ask if this is okay.”
He readjusts to sit in his chair properly. He starts to put his headphones back on, but you unplug them so you can hear what’s happening.
“You ready to continue, Reid?” Hotch asks. It’s business as usual with him—if he was told what happened earlier, Spencer can’t tell.
“Well, actually,” he starts, and nervousness bubbles up in his chest. He glances up and you give him a reassuring smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could introduce you guys to someone first?”
Garcia squeals. “Ooh, sir, please say yes!”
“Just keep it quick,” Hotch says. He didn’t even hesitate—they totally told him.
Spencer takes a deep breath, then gestures for you to come over. You seem a little nervous as well, but you handle it well, walking around the desk and into the frame. “Oh, we should have gotten you something to sit on,” he laments when you lean over the back of his chair.
“It’s fine.” You drape your arms around his shoulders and adjust so your head is on the same level as his. It’s silent for a moment, then you say, “Well, introduce me, silly.”
“Oh!” He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. “Um, this is (Y/N). My... my partner.”
The call explodes with greetings, everyone talking over each other. “Slow down, slow down,” Spencer pleads. This is all overwhelming enough—he doesn’t need any excess stimuli.
Once it settles, everyone takes their turn introducing themselves (you already know who they all are, though, as he’s told you so much about them). Then you field a few questions—what you do for work, how you met, what your favorite food is (that was Rossi—Spencer suspects that he wants to know for the first dinner party he can hold after quarantine is over).
It’s going well. Everyone seems to like you, and you’re getting by just fine. Until Garcia asks her question, that is.
“So, (Y/N), how long has boy wonder been keeping you a secret from us?”
Both of you tense. “Uh, you know what, I’ll let him answer that,” you say quickly. “It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”
“Wha—no. No, it’s not. It’s just barley past nine,” Spencer protests.
“Yeah, I’m really tired. I’m gonna try and get some extra sleep today.” You give a little wave. “It was nice meeting you all.”
“Don’t leave me,” he whispers desperately. “Not with that question.”
You feign a yawn. “Sorry, I’m just too tired.”
He watches you go back to the bedroom with a pout.
“Well?” Garcia insists when he looks back at her.
Spencer cringes and preemptively lowers his computer volume.
---------------
tell me what you thought here!
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cupidsbarnes · 11 months ago
Text
Fine Line
Summary: There’s a fine line between love and hate and you’re not too sure which side you’re on with Harry anymore. Part Two to What Kind of Man 
Words: 5.0k
Warnings: I said this in the first part & will repeat it. This is purely fictional. This in no way reflects how I feel Harry would handle this situation in reality. I’m really using Harry as a character. DO NOT READ THIS if you feel the situation of cheating and staying together will impact you strongly or offend you. That is not what I want when reading my story. 
Notes: I urge those uncomfortable with cheating to avoid this. I also urge those who dislike this kind of writing to avoid. I came up with this story at a point in my life where my parents were divorcing, I was going through a break up and was lost. I’ve decided to finish this story because I put so much effort into it for it to end unfinished feels wrong. I can’t speak for anybody and how they would handle this situation. 
Thank you for 1000 followers. That is crazy! 
-
You’ve got my devotion. 
But man, I can hate you sometimes.
...
You sunshine, you temptress.
My hands at risk I fold.
-
April. 
The first two sessions had gone by in relative silence. You weren’t sure what to say to answer the therapists questions. You weren’t sure you even wanted to talk at all. 
“Y/N.” You look up startled out of your thoughts. “Do you feel like talking today?” Her eyes are kind and understanding. Her degrees hang behind her head and you zone in on them. Dr. Walsh had been the only therapist who could take you on in April. Any others that you called had informed you their next opening for new patients wasn’t until the end of May. 
You supposed it could have been worse. So far, Dr. Walsh had come across as kind and understanding of your hesitance. She had never forced you to talk and had only tried to get you involved on your own accord. 
“What would we talk about?” You ask instead of ignoring in silence like you had the past two sessions. You can see Harry turn his head to look at you out of the corner of your eye, but you remained focused on the two degrees hanging behind Dr. Walsh’s head. 
UCLA. “What year did you graduate?” You ask before she can answer your original question. “From UCLA.” 
“We can talk about whatever you want. How you two met. Your kids.” You raise an eyebrow and she smiles. “1996.” 
“I thought we were supposed to talk about our issues. Why would we talk about our kids or how we met?” You answer her question. You can tell Harry’s eyes are moving back and forth between the two of you, like he’s unsure if he should get involved in the conversation. 
Dr. Walsh shakes her head. “Sometimes the best place to start is with what makes you two happy. You’re here to work on your relationship, right?” 
The two of you nod. “Then I’m not worried about starting with the most painful part of your relationship. I want to learn about it. If I can learn about your relationship then I have more knowledge on how to help you repair it, if that’s what you want.” 
“Okay.” You agree. You feel some of your tenseness fade away. You were here for a reason. “We went to UCLA too.” 
She nods. “You did? Were you studying the same thing? Is that how you two met?” 
You look down at your fidgeting hands and let out a laugh. “Not quite. I was a creative writing major and Harry was political science. We met in a World History course our sophomore. It was a general requirement class.” 
“Yeah.” Harry nods as if the memory is coming back to him. “Professor Ward.” 
“Mind if I sit here?” You look up and your breath hitches. He was handsome. That was your first thought. Bright eyes and a sweet smile that could take anyone’s breath away. 
You nod hastily. “Yeah. It’s all yours.” You move your notebook over so he has a bit more room on his half of the table.
“Thanks.” He drops his books on the table and flops down into the chair. “Harry.” He reaches a hand towards you and you meet him halfway. 
You offer your name up easily and his smile brightens. “What brings you into a World history course?” He asks quietly as the last bit of students rush into the few seats left up front. 
You smile. “Creative writing majors have to take one broad history course before focusing on any history of writing courses. Ward’s class was the only one with openings that didn’t start at eight.” 
“Creative writing. That’s cool.” Harry’s spinning the pen in between his fingers. “You want to be a writer?” 
You smile nervously and nod. “That’s the goal. What brings you to Ward’s World History?” 
Harry laughs softly. “I’m a political science major, this is just a required gen ed.” 
“Political science. What’s your plan with that? Am I sitting next to a future senator?” You give him a teasing smile. 
“Lawyer.” 
You shrug, “Senators have to start somewhere.” The professor comes in and that halts the conversation from going anywhere else. As Professor Ward goes over the syllabus you see a piece of paper slide across the table towards you. You look over at Harry, but he’s looking ahead with a smirk on his face. 
You unfold the paper and there is a number written in messy handwriting taking up the small page. 
“Bold.” You whisper to him and he shrugs. “I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.” He whispers back. 
“So you both liked each other right away?” You look up as you're dragged out of the memory of meeting Harry. 
“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I think so.” 
“Definitely.” Harry agrees. “I’m lucky I was running late that day. The seat next to her was the only good seat left. Plus, she helped edit all my essays. I was a shit writer before her.” 
You smile softly at the memory. “Y/N?”  You look up and Dr. Walsh is watching you closely. 
“That class sucked.” You can’t help but let out a laugh. “We had so many essays. He’s right, he was a shit writer before me.” 
You finally spare a look over at Harry and he’s watching you with soft eyes. “That was our first semester of sophomore year. We were attached at the hip after that.” You look back down at your hands. 
“Did you guys start dating right away?” She asks.
“Pretty much. We started dating right before winter break.”  Harry answers for the both of you. 
She nods as she eyes the clock on the wall. “Does that memory still make you happy?”
You nod. Your memories hadn’t been ruined. But that didn’t really mean anything when you could barely be in the same room as Harry now. “Of course. But… Things are different. We’re not twenty-somethings with no responsibility. We’re parents. Partners. We’re supposed to have each other’s back. And now it feels like we don’t.” 
Harry looks over at Dr. Walsh as she studies you. She was obviously taking in your words and processing a response to them. “I think the biggest question you need to find the answer to is, do you want to fix this marriage?” She finally says looking pointedly at the distance between you two. 
You pause and mull over her question. “Can we fix it?” You ask quietly. 
She shrugs. “I can’t answer that for you. It’s my job to help you find the answer, not give it to you. What I can tell you is; Sometimes people walk out of this with a new appreciation and love. Sometimes people realize it can’t be fixed. Nothing is wrong with either, it’s just up to you two to figure out which one it is.” 
You look over at Harry and find him watching you with hopeful eyes. You knew he wanted to and felt like you both could fix this. 
But you weren’t sure. “I don’t know.” 
-
The drive home is silent for the most part. Music playing softly from the radio as you stare out the passenger side window. 
“I don’t know what to say.” Harry says as he pulls the car into the driveway. He puts it into park but doesn’t turn it off so the music is still playing as he turns to look at you. 
Gemma’s car was parked behind your own. You see the curtain move slightly which is a telltale sign that a child was peeking out the window. It quickly falls back into place when your eye catches Serena’s. 
You shake your head and look back down at your lap. “What is there to say?” 
Harry shuts his eyes and you see his grip on the steering wheel tighten. “I want to fix this. I’m trying. Do you want to fix this?” 
You let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t try and guilt me, Harry. I didn’t cheat, you did. This… This mess isn’t my fault and it shouldn’t be my job to fix it.” 
“I’m not trying to guilt-“ He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. “That was a shitty thing to say. I know. I just want to know if we’re gonna make it through this. If you think we have a chance.” 
You look over at him with watery eyes. “I don’t know. All I can think about is you fucking another woman while I was home with our kids. Telling them that you were just busy. That we would have dinner tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.” 
Harry flinches like you’ve hit him. You turn away but don’t stop talking. “I know a month may not seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things. We’ve been together for seventeen years, so what’s a month?” You laugh humorlessly. “But how long have we been distant? How long have you been staying late and missing dinners?” 
“I don’t know.” Harry whispers and you see him clench his eyes in an attempt to stop tears from falling.
“It’s been months, Harry.” You look around the yard. Your and Persephone’s plants needed maintenance. “We had Jack and then everything changed. We stopped date nights. Family game nights faded from existence. We stopped having sex. I… I don’t know what happened.” 
Harry doesn’t say anything so you sigh. “I’m trying, Harry. It may not seem like it to you, but I’m trying.” You unbuckle yourself and move to get out of the car. 
Harry reaches out and wraps his hand gently around your wrist. “I know.” He stresses the word. “I know you are.” 
You nod and the two of you just watch each other for a moment. You break away from him first. “I’m sure the kids are peeking out the window. We’ve been out here long enough.” 
The both of you climb out of the car silently. The door flies open by the time you reach the second step of your front porch. 
“Mama!” Oliver comes flying out towards you. “Mama. Never leave us again. Baby Jack is crazy.” He grips you tight and you laugh, the tension immediately leaving your body as you hug him back. 
Gemma comes to stand in the entrance with Jack on her hip. She gives you a weak smile and you smile back. “Come on, I’m sure Aunt Gem is dying to go home after watching you crazy lot for two hours.” 
Gemma leaves quickly handing Jack off to Harry and giving you and Harry both kisses on the cheek. “Let me know about spring break, Y/N!” She calls as she rushes out your front door. 
“Spring break?” Harry asks as he bounces Jack in his arms. 
“We’ll talk about it later.” You say sparing a glance down to Oliver, who’s still attached to your leg. Harry nods before moving towards the living room. Oliver follows behind him and you’re left in the front hall alone. 
You take a deep breath before following them. 
-
Harry sleeps in the guest room. You can’t bring yourself to allow him back into the room you two shared. 
His clothes remain in his half of the closet though and his toiletries had remained in place on the bathroom counter, so you saw him every night before going to sleep. 
Dr. Walsh had suggested the two of you used this time to try and reconnect. “You don’t have to sleep in the same bed yet. It’s completely normal for you to need time apart, Y/N. But I do want you two to talk before bed every night, I know you have four kids and it may be your only true alone time to reconnect emotionally before you ever do anything physically, even just sleep.” She had offered at the end of your session after you had admitted you weren’t sure how you felt about Harry and your relationship now. “This is a good way to figure out if you can still see yourself together.” 
You loved him. You didn’t need her to help you answer that question. He was the father of your children. You had over a decade of amazing times together. But you couldn’t look at him without your chest aching. 
“What was Gemma talking about spring break?” Harry sits on the lounge chair you two had placed in the corner of your room. Jack’s bassinet used to be next to it, but he had recently moved into his own room. 
You sit on the end of your bed with your arms crossed over your chest. “Olly has been asking if we could go to Disney World. I was talking to her about maybe surprising him and Serena for their birthday since it falls during the kids break this year.” 
“That sounds really nice.” Harry smiles and you nod. “I’m sure the four of them would love it. I can put in for the week tomorrow. I have a bunch of paid time off I need to use up.” 
You look up at him with wide eyes. “You want to go? We haven’t been on vacation since the beach trip before Jack was born.”
Harry’s face turns stoic. “Of course I want to go. I told you I was going to spend more time with guys.” He walks towards the dresser you have pushed against the wall. “Here, pull your laptop out, let's book this now so we can get a good room.” 
You gape at him. It had only been an idea you were considering for the twins birthday. Although, it was coming up and you were running out of time to make a decision. 
“Are you sure you can get the time off?” You ask instead of listening to his direction. 
Harry nods resolutely. “Can I?” He points next to you and you nod. You lean over to your nightstand, where you had left the computer the night before while writing. 
You push it open. “I’m gonna go get Persephone.” You stand up and hand the laptop to Harry. “She can help plan some stuff with us, so we know what these young kids want.” You give Harry a weak smile and he nods. 
You shake your hands out as you make your way down the hall towards your eldest daughter’s room. You knock softly on the door, “Seph?” 
“Come in.” She calls and you push the door open. She’s got her show paused and is curled into her comforter. “What’s up, mom?” 
“Can you help your dad and I with something?” You ask hesitantly. “I know it’s late, it’ll be quick.” 
Persephone gives you the same dimpled smile Harry has, “Of course. I was gonna be up binge watching this show anyways.” She unwraps herself from the blanket and grabs her phone before following you back to your bedroom. 
“Hey, lovebug.” Harry gives her your favorite smile. One he’s somehow reserved solely for you children. Soft and bright while his eyes shine proudly. 
“Hi, daddy.” She plops herself down next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to her forehead and the smile that spreads across Persephone’s face is contagious. 
You take a seat next to her, so she is squished in between the two of you. “You know how Olly has been asking about Disney?” You ask quietly. You and Harry had put the twins down an hour ago, but Oliver was known to sneak away from his room for a cuddle with you. 
She nods instead of verbally answering and Harry pulls up the booking website. “Your mom had the great idea to surprise the twins for their birthday.” 
“Really?” Seph asks excitedly. Your family trips usually consisted of beaches or visiting grandparents. The last time you had been to Disney was when it was just the three of you. You weren’t sure she could even remember most of the trip. 
You bump her shoulder softly with an excited grin. “Really. Jack is old enough that he can get probably through a day there without screaming his head off. Aunt Gem said that she could come to help watch him so you three can have fun.” 
“That sounds awesome!” She lifts her head from Harry’s shoulder and looks at you happily. “What did you need my help with?” 
“Picking out where to stay. You guys are the focus of the trip so we want you to stay where you want to, not us.” You gently take the laptop from Harry and place it in her hands. “So tell us your top three and then dad and I will pick from there so you still get to enjoy some of the surprise aspect.” 
She scrolls through the website for a few minutes while the three of you sit there quietly. You glance over at Harry hesitantly. He’s looking down at your daughter with bright eyes. 
You quickly look away when his eyes move up to meet yours. “Okay. I added the three I liked the most to your favorites! Did you guys need anything else?” 
You both shake your head. “Just keep this a secret. It’s going to be a surprise.” You smile excitedly at your eldest. She had grown so much, but seeing the childlike shine of excitement in her eyes brought you a bounty of joy. She was still your baby. 
Persephone nods before handing the laptop back over to Harry. She presses a kiss to both your and his cheeks before hopping up and making her way towards your door. 
You give her a confused smile when she pauses and turns back around to face you again. She takes in a nervous breath before speaking. 
“It’s really good to be all together again.” The words are quiet and fearful. “Um. I love you guys. Goodnight.” She turns on her heel and bolts out the room and back down the hall. 
You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and look down at your lap. “I’m sorry.” Harry whispers. His tone is similar to her’s. Quiet and full of fear. “I love you all. I know I hurt you, but you are all my world. Those kids are what I’m most proudest of.” 
“I know.” You look over at his lap. His hands curled tightly around the laptop still open in his lap. “I never doubted how much they meant to you Harry. I know how much you love those kids.” 
You want to reach out and pull his hand into yours. Something you usually did when Harry was scared or nervous. But you kept your hand firmly planted in your lap, unable to give him that forgiveness. 
“I was never afraid of you not loving them. I was-“ You stop unsure of what to say. What were you afraid of? “I was afraid that I had given so much and you still wouldn’t have chosen me.” 
Harry looks over at you with sad eyes and you let out a humorless laugh. “Harry, I’ve never regretted having Persephone so young. I’ve never regretted being home. But, I just want you to show that… that you appreciate me.” 
“I do appreciate you.” Harry says quietly. “I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel like I don’t.” He places the laptop in the empty space in between you. You watch as he works through what to say, his tension clear in his eyes. 
“But…” He trails off like he’s still unsure of what to say. “I’m here. I want to be here. I want to show you that I appreciate you.” Harry takes a deep breath and places a hesitant hand on your back. “As long as you’ll have me.” 
You take a deep breath. “Let’s focus on this... I want the twins to have a great birthday and for Seph to have a great spring break. Things have been tough for them too. We can figure the other stuff out later.” 
Harry doesn’t say anything, just nods and pulls the laptop back towards him. You can tell he wants to though. That he wants to talk this out and get in deep.
You just can’t bring yourself to do it. 
-
“A family vacation can be very cathartic for couples struggling.” Dr. Walsh gives the two of you a kind smile after you reveal what you had planned for your kids. “But, it can also bring about stress at being in such a small space for such a long time. Especially when you’re still struggling to communicate.” 
“I’m really trying.” You say quietly, on edge at the idea of you and Harry bringing about any stress on a trip meant to be for your kids. “We both are. I think.” 
“I know.” She gives you an understanding look. “You guys do your homework. You said it yourself, your nightly conversations aren’t painful anymore. But talking about small things is only the beginning of strengthening your communication.” 
“So you want us to talk about the affair?” You ask. “The big thing.” 
She shakes her head. “Eventually. Sweeping it under the rug or ignoring it can only cause more tension. But there are other things I’m sure you want to talk about as well.” 
“Like what?” Harry asks. He glances over at you before looking back at Dr. Walsh. 
“Anything either of you felt was an issue.” She explains. “Big or small. Anything you think contributed to your distance. Try to remember, you’re not placing blame.”
“Not even for the affair?” Harry sighs and you shut your eyes. “How can I not place blame? That’s not my fault.” 
“No.” She agrees. “I’ve never agreed with placing blame for something like that on the victim. Do you want to start with talking about it?” 
“No.” You shake your head. “I just wanted to make sure we’re not finding all these so-called small issues so we can then excuse the cheating. I won’t do that.” You say disdainfully. 
“We don’t expect you to.” She glances over at Harry. He looks pained but he nods in agreement. “Of course not.” He says quietly. 
You take a deep breath in before nodding. “Okay, then where do we start?” 
“A lot of times, affairs feel like they come out of nowhere. They do.” She gives you an assuaging look. “But it’s also important to remember that there were issues before it and they’re still there to be worked through. We want to work through the big problem, but oftentimes couples work through that but not other things and end up separating.” 
You nod and take a deep breath trying to think through issues. Things had felt perfect during your pregnancy with Jack. 
You were excited, a fourth child and it was a boy, you and Harry had been hoping for another boy. Harry had even planned the small family vacation to the beach so you could enjoy time together as a family of five before it became six. 
“We argued.” You say quietly. The family vacation slips from your mind as your exhausted tears come to your memory. “Um. I had Jack and I was exhausted and we argued. It was barely even an argument.” 
“He still won’t eat?” Harry asks, coming into the bedroom. He was still in his suit from court and you feel angry heat flush through you at how put together he looked. How well rested and up he looked. 
You shake your head silently. Harry seems to not notice your tense jaw as he pushes his way into the closet to find clothes for the night. You turn to look down at Jack laying restlessly in your arms. Tears rush to your eyes as you stand and place Jack in his bassinet and finally get a look at yourself in the mirror hanging next to the closet door. 
You hadn’t showered since Persephone had left earlier the previous day and after running around to get the twins settled with Gemma and taking care of the baby all day you felt tense and gross. 
Harry comes out and smiles kindly as he watches you step towards the ensuite. “Can you watch him for a moment? I need a shower. I feel gross and it’ll help me relax. My nurse said getting tense makes it harder to breastfeed.” 
Harry looks down at his watch. “Something more important?” You ask before he can get a word out. “No. Just- I was supposed to hop on a conference call with Jeff, I’ll reschedule.” Harry tries to change the tone of the conversation, but you’ve already seen red. “Y/N, go shower.” 
“I’m sorry.” You say instead of moving. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you with your child for half an hour.” You know you don’t mean the harsh words and that you’ll probably regret them all after you’ve taken a break but- “I’m home all day with him, but fuck if I ask you to watch him so I can shower.” 
Harry’s eyes widen at the cold tone. He crosses his arms defensively across his chest as he takes a step back from you, even though he was already several feet away. “I never said I was inconvenienced. You asked a question and I answered honestly. I don’t have a problem spending time with my own child, Y/N.” 
Your turn on your heel and stock into the ensuite and slam the door shut behind you. You hear Jack begin to fuss more and Harry’s whispers as he presumably picks the baby up. There wasn’t a time in the fifteen years you’ve had children that you’ve ever thought Harry didn’t want to spend time with his kids. You still didn’t. But the exhaustion and stress that you felt with Jack was unlike anything you’d felt before and Harry hadn’t seemed to notice. 
“It felt like you weren’t paying attention.” You say quietly. “It felt like you had no idea what was going on.” Dr. Walsh trains her eyes on you as Harry’s eyes flick around trying to figure out what argument you were talking about. 
“I’m sorry.” You say quietly. Jack is curled in your arms as he eats and a weight has been lifted off your shoulder. You feel shameful at the words that had slipped out in an attempt to make Harry notice how upset you were. “I know you’re not inconvenienced by our kids.” 
Harry turns his head to look at you. He had been silently typing out emails as you fed Jack, upset but refusing to leave your side. “What’s wrong?” He asks as he slams the laptop shut. 
You want to tell him. How stressed and anxious you felt. How much tougher being with Jack was than any of your other children. How insecure it made you feel. You should tell him.
But. 
“How could I tell you all that and not sound like I’m angry at our child? Not sound like an awful mother?” You choke on the words. 
Harry stares at you with what looks like pity and you turn away. You didn’t want pity. You wanted help. You wanted him to understand. “You don’t sound like a horrible mother. You sound tired.” 
“What stopped you from telling him this?” Dr. Walsh prompts gently as you and Harry fall into silence. Her eyes flicker to Harry as he watches you with the same sad eyes. 
You shrug. “I just wanted him to notice. I wanted to feel like he still noticed me.” You let out a breath. “We love Jack, but Jack wasn’t exactly planned. We weren’t sure if we wanted a fourth and had only just begun talking about it. When I found out I was pregnant and figured out how excited I felt, I knew I wanted to keep him.” You explain to the therapist carefully. “We decided that we wanted him, but he would be our last one.”
You think of the doctors appointments and heavy warnings that a fourth pregnancy could wreck havoc on your body. 
“But I’m not twenty-three anymore and the pregnancy was really tough on me. And Harry knew. So he took care of the kids when I couldn’t and he planned vacations for me before I gave birth and it-” You breath catches. “It felt like you didn’t care anymore once I had him because I wasn’t in danger anymore. But Jack is stubborn and I was struggling.” 
Harry takes in a shaky breath and reaches out to steady your trembling hands. 
It’s a start. You guess. 
-
“I didn’t realize how tough Jack was on you.” Harry says quietly that night. You had been dreading sitting in the awkward silence. 
You shrug. “Babies are tough. Persephone was tough because we were so young. Serena and Oliver were tough because they were twins.” Your baby monitor makes a sound and you glance over to see Jack stretching his arms. 
You sigh and stand up. “Jack was… Jack was tough in a way I wasn’t expecting. Maybe it was because I had four kids all of the sudden or because you started working more. I was exhausted all the time.” 
You leave before he can say anything in response, but you know he’ll follow you to Jack’s room. You push the door open quietly and hear Jack’s soft giggles. 
“Hello, handsome.” You whisper as he looks up at you. “What’s got you awake?” 
You pick him up gently and bring him over to the rocking chair placed in the corner of the room. Harry leans against the door jam. 
You rock back and forth with Jack in your arms and Harry watched with gentle eyes. You look up as Harry begins to speak quietly. “I wish I could take everything back. Just… Redo this past year.” 
You look down at Jack and run a gentle finger over his cheek. “You can’t. You don’t get redos in real life.” 
The room is silent as you rock your baby back to sleep and Harry watches. 
-
We’ll be a fine line.
-
Notes: Title song Fine Line. This is really a filler for the next piece, I needed April to get to May :/
A few things; I have them staying together written. While this has been my plan since I begun writing this part & the next, if it’s something people wanted, I could do two different endings.
Like I said, I wrote this at a low place for me and had always imagined it as some type of closure that I never got from my parents situation or from my ex. Cheaters suck. But, some people do work through it. Some people can’t. That’s the beauty of our autonomy, we decide. I got a lot (and I mean a lot) of messages urging me to be mindful of impressionable people who may read this piece & with that I want to say; Your situation is not this one. Some cheaters will always be cheaters. This is not in anyway trying to convince you that a toxic relationship is okay. Or that cheating is okay. Please remember this is fiction and not meant to do anything other than entertain you! This is a piece I wrote & a piece whose ending I choose. Thank you for reading. I love every single person who read What Kind of Man and thought, I want more of this person’s writing.
(please do not be mean to me, I write for fun & am very emotional thank u)
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multi-stann · 8 months ago
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Too many thoughts- B.B.(repost from old acct)
DON’T STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY STUFF!!!!
a/n-Please like, comment, and reblog!! It means a lot to me that i know anyone who reads my stuff, likes my work! Don’t be afraid to send me asks as well. I’m not currently taking requests(i’ll occasionally ask for ideas though!), but i’m always open to talk to new ppl:)
Summary: Bucky’s thoughts overload him after a therapy session and he needs you to help him calm down.
Warnings n stuff: takes place around ep1/ep2 of tfatws(some spoilers ig), fluff, slight panic attack, PTSD, Bucky needing comfort & just being scared(?)
Bucky’s new life is shared with you and he’d have it no other way. Being in Brooklyn, living in a smaller apartment together, sharing the littlest things with one another. It’s nice, you both find enjoyment(most of the time) amidst the chaos that the new Cap has brought into the world: Bucky’s world and of course yours. Pushing that aside, it’s nice in Brooklyn. The apartment you two share is cozy, and is just spacious enough for the both of you. Bucky let you fix it up however you wanted with the money you guys spare at the time, and seeing as you’re way more caught up on modern living, modern tech, and modern ways than he is. You’ve taught him the little things that he’s needed to know, or that he’s wanted to know. He learns something new from you everyday, and that… he is forever grateful for.
With that being said, Bucky is attending therapy. As apart of his pardon, he has mandatory therapy sessions and he’s not too fond of the whole ‘sitting down and spilling my long-lived life full of trauma to a stranger’ deal. You don’t think you would be too fond of it either if the grouch that sits in front of him pried you of your business as well, he’s trying his best, but you also know it’s her job as well so there’s nothing much you can do. Bucky talks more to you than he ever will anyone else, especially now that Steve isn’t around, and Bucky relies on you for a lot of things. Not saying that he’s not independent(he most definitely is), but he relies on you to be home when he comes back from a session, or when he needs to talk, or when he needs to understand some modern things, or perhaps when he’s lacking your warmth while sprawled out on the living room floor where he often sleeps at night, even though his heart aches at the sight of your sleepy figure stumbling through the hallway to come sleep with him, he still relents and lets you do as you please; and he can’t complain. He relies on you to be there, and you don’t mind it at all.
As Bucky walks home from therapy, his mind races. She had poked into his business yet again (as always), but this time a bit more forceful, making Bucky’s mind race with dread, guilt, and his body ache out of timidness. The therapy office isn’t that far from your shared apartment, he knows you’ll be there when he gets back, you always are, he just needs to hold on a little bit longer to let everything out.
As he continues to walk, passing glances are urging him to walk a bit quicker; something he normally doesn’t do unless he’s in a hurry or he needs to, but right now he feels as if people can see right through him. Everything is becoming a bit too much, but the only thing he can do is pick up his pace a tad bit. The sounds of car horns, car alarms, people talking over others, car doors shutting, loud music, construction going on a block or so away….they’re all adding in to the pressure that’s building up in his head. He can’t seem to focus on anything else but the fact that he feels as if he’s going to explode in a matter of seconds, but he can’t here. He can’t break down in the middle of the sidewalk, in public, he thinks he’ll be seen as ‘weak’ by others…especially if they know who he is. What would people think if they saw the ‘Winter Soldier’ having a panic attack or breakdown in the middle of the opening?
Bucky’s strides become longer as he closes the distance between him and the building quickly in which your shared apartment is located in. He’s maintaining his breathing as best as he can as he finishes the few steps to the small set of dirty, cement stairs he has to go up. His gloved hands are stuffed into his pockets, but he manages to drag one out to open the door so he can walk into the complex. Once he’s finally in, he closes his eyes and takes a brief minute to calm down a bit. His breathing a bit heavy, his eye sight a bit blurry with tears wanting to pour out, his body feels like a heavy weight and he has to drag it along the floor just to get anywhere.
He manages to drag himself up the stairs to the second floor, which is where your apartment is. He doesn’t get his key out, expecting you to have the door unlocked, but when he arrives to the door and goes to turn the knob; it doesn’t open. He knocks, “Doll, you in there??” Bucky asks loudly, but not exactly yelling because of the neighbors.
When he doesn’t get an answer, panic rises in him even worse. What if something bad happened to her? What if she’s sick? What if someone took her? What if she just left me? All he wants to do is walk in there and see you. See you watching tv, or cooking, maybe taking a bath, or maybe just cuddled up in bed waiting for him. But no, he’s pretty sure you’re not even home right now, or worse….something has happened to you. All of these bad thoughts rush through his head and he wants to slam his head against the door to get them to stop. He just hopes he doesn’t walk in and find you laying on the floor passed out. He quickly digs the key out of his pocket, and rushes to unlock the door with a slightly shaky hand. He walks in, shutting but not locking the door behind him. He then thoroughly checks the rooms to make sure you’re not anywhere in the apartment, and to no avail, you’re not here. He pulls off his gloves, shoes, and jacket before walking over and sitting down on the sofa. He sighs, out of relief but worry as well, once he sits. His leg begins to bounce out of anxiousness. As if he didn’t have enough on his mind, now he’s worried about you. He doesn’t like not knowing where you’re going, he knows you can defend yourself, but he still likes to know where you go…just incase.
Bucky places his head in the palms of his hands as he rests the elbows of them on his lower thighs. He can’t seem to get all of the bad thoughts out of his head, and the noises from outside start coming back, the thoughts of something happening to you flood in, the words of his therapist barge in next; invading his privacy, his peace that he should have: gone. Too many thoughts crowd his mind, poking and prying at him, trying to get him to break and he can’t take it. He’s starting to breathe rapidly, he can’t seem to get his mind to focus on better things or at least something else, anything else, and he’s panicking. Panicking because he’s not sure where you are or what’s going on and you didn’t tell him where you were going or if anything happened and now he’s thinking about Sam giving up the shield and now there’s this new asshole running around playing dress up and acting like Captain America, aka his best friend Steve and-
The door pops open alerting Bucky and momentarily removing all of his thoughts from his mind. His head snaps up and he sees you. You see him; teary eyed, leg bouncing, body shaking, chest heaving. Your heart aches immediately. Your arms are full of bags from grocery shopping. You hadn’t thought to text Bucky because you figured you’d be home before he was, but you can see you were totally wrong. It took a bit longer than you anticipated, but you’re here now. “Hey, Bucky. Baby….” You shut the door lightly, and rush to the counters to put the groceries down. You immediately run back into the living space and sit down gently on the couch. Bucky instantly leans towards your body, knowing that you never touch him when he’s like this without his consent or his doing. You then wait for him to wrap his arms around you, and when he does, you do the exact same to him. One hand going to his head, the other finding his back.
His breathing instantly gets better as you run soothing circles on his clothed back with your hand, your other hand running through his hair as you whisper “i’m here love. it’s okay. i’m here.” over and over again. Bucky takes in your scent, the smell of lavender and vanilla hitting his nose. The all too familiar scent he loves, the smell that calms him down the most. “I’m sorry Buck….i thought i’d have been back before you. I’m so sorry.” You whisper before kissing his head, letting the kiss linger a bit; knowing it calms him down a bit more. His words are muffled but he manages to answer, “It’s okay, just a lot going on up here.” He lightly taps the side of his temple and you sigh. You don’t sigh out of frustration or irritation, you sigh because you want him to finally be happy. You want Bucky to finally be at peace and with all of these thoughts and loud words rambling about in his head, he can’t do that and it makes you upset. Upset at anything and everyone that caused it, but not him because he had no control. “Want to talk about the thoughts?” Your voice is at a comforting tone, but even that can’t make Bucky want to spill about all of the concerning things flooding through his head in the moment. He shakes his head a bit vigorously and you nod, “Okay, that’s fine baby. You know the drill, whenever you want to talk i’m right here.” You know he will talk to you about the things going on inside of his head later tonight when you two are laying in the soft bed, him trying to sleep but he rambles on, and you running your fingers through his hair as you focus on his every word, comforting him in the best way you know how.. “So, how do you feel about making some cookies with me? That’s why i went to the store and i really could use some help.” You change the topic to hopefully help get him out of the nasty state he’s in currently.
Luckily, Bucky lifts his head from your embrace and looks at you. You cup his face in your hands and you smile at him. “What kind?” “I got enough ingredients to make whatever kind you want, Bucky.” You place a kiss on his forehead before standing up, then outstretching your hand to help him up. “I’ll let you eat the left over cookie dough?” You smile hopefully, your tone being in a sing-song manner, and Bucky instantly grabs your hand. “Would love that, doll, but only if you promise me you’ll try and sleep in the bed tonight even if i get up.” He forms a small pout on his lips and you can’t say no to that face. “Okay, okay, promise.” You intertwine your pinky with his metal one before you two go hand in hand into the kitchen to be-rid Bucky’s mind of the thoughts that wander inside.
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dameronology · 11 months ago
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wait on {din djarin x reader}
summary: boba fett is a good therapist, and din djarin is spectacular at being nosey. the result? a much needed conversation. perhaps there’s a silver lining. {kinda based on this song}
warnings: angst, language, swearing, s2 spoilers
this one hurts a lil bit but i promise the ending is happy. enjoy!!
-jazz
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The air between you was thick, not unlike the beskar that the Mandalorian was wearing. 
It was funny, really, because you’d never minded the armour all that much before. Your ability to see straight through it and see Din Djarin for what he really was had been what made him fall in love with you, and you with him. Now, it felt like a barrier between you. Inches of thick metal and fabric, shielding him from the world around him. From you. The one person he usually held closest to his heart; the one person he’d let see his face for the first time in years. The man was hardly a conversationalist at the best of times but he’d opened up to you. Shared his world with you and intertwined it with yours. Built something with you that you'd both protect with your lives. 
Now, he was straying away. Forever attached by an invisible string, but with galaxies and galaxies between you. Even though he was mere inches from you, sat two seats over, there was a chilly air; if your relationship was a warm, welcoming house, the atmosphere he’d plunged you both into was the cold winter’s night on the other side of the glass. You wanted to go back, to drag him inside and slam and bolt the door behind you. Instead, you were forced to watch through the windows, knowing what was there but never quite truly getting close enough to let it envelope you. 
You couldn’t hold it against him. The last few weeks had been rough on you both, and it only come to a head today. Grogu had been taken by the Imps and the Crest had been blown up before your very eyes. It was one of those times that truly and wholly showed the difference between you and Din: you sought him out and he pulled away. You’d learnt a long time ago not to follow him. You wanted to. Fuck, you wanted to, but you’d learnt the hard way that it was a bad idea. 
Despite the icy silence and ache for your kidnapped toad son, you were still grateful for the fact Boba Fett had offered his ship as transport and shelter. You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was, but Din seemed to trust him, and so by extension, you did too. Things were a little cramped in the hull of the ship, but there was a spare sleeping quarters for you and the Mandalorian to squish into, assuming he’d let you. You didn’t want to ask him, because you were scared of the answer. 
Instead, you found yourself sat out on the dusty plains of...wherever the hell you were. Boba had parked the ship up overnight so that you could rest; it seemed to be some kind of desert planet. Not too different to Nevarro or Tatooine, but perhaps a little colder. The sky had long faded to black, casting a darkness over the sandy plains ahead of you. The chilly air was a welcome contrast against the stuffiness of the bedroom - it wasn’t even hot in there, just filled with some kind of inexplicable tension. And not the sexy kind; the regular, all-consuming type. You could feel it slowly etching into your frontal lobe, sinking in its claws and giving you a stress head-ache. Letting out a few deep breaths, you let the gusts of cold wind blow over your bare arms. 
‘A little cold out here, isn’t it?’
The voice was gravelly and unfamiliar, but one that you knew belonged to Boba Fett. 
‘Yeah, maybe.’ You didn’t turn around to look, instead letting your eyes stay focused on the distance. There was nothing ahead. Just darkness and sand. ‘Fresh air is nice, though.’
‘Or maybe the air inside is bad.’ He countered. Boba took a seat on the rock beside you, jokingly whacking his knee against yours. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘Just...what happened today, I suppose.’ You replied. ‘We lost the kid, and our ship.’
‘You’re handling it better than your Mandalorian.’ He replied. 
‘I don’t think he’s my Mandalorian.’ You snorted. ‘He’s just...he doesn’t normally deal with so much at once. I think he just needs time to process it all, you know?’
‘Perhaps.’ Boba said. ‘And do you always make excuses for him?’
‘I beg your sweet pardon?’ You turned to look at him. 
‘Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I’ve always been an observant man.’ He began. ‘I saw how you immediately went to him, to check on him, and how you fought beside him,  yet he’s barely even looked at you.’
‘Ouch.’ You muttered. ‘You might be observant you but certainly do not tread lightly.’
‘My apologies.’ He curtly nodded. 
‘It’s not always been like this.’ Your words felt forced. You were making excuses. ‘And it won’t always be.’
‘You know him better than anyone, or so I assume.’ Boba reminded you. ‘But don’t be afraid to remind him what he has, despite what he’s lost.’
He was right. Din could be distant, and he could be fucking ignorant without even trying, but you hadn’t strayed from his side once. Not for a second. It could be frustrating to deal, with but you loved him with your whole being, in a soul-consuming sorta way, and you knew he was capable of coming around. Your mother had always preached songs of love being patient and kind but as you saw it, it was frustrating, and at times the most inconvenient thing in the world. You must have had the patience of a saint to deal with him. He was just lucky he made it worth it (and that underneath all the armour, he wasn’t too bad to look at. It certainly helped his case). 
You let out a sad laugh. ‘I couldn’t. Di - Mando already struggles to express his feelings and I’d only make it worst if I said he wasn’t doing it well enough.’
‘You know your worth.’ Boba said. ‘Only you can decide if he appreciates it enough.’
‘He does.’ You quickly replied. ‘I know he does.’ 
He gave you a doubtful look, one that said I think you’re bullshitting, but I won’t disagree. He was simply sharing his observations, even if they were a little much. But the man hadn’t had any proper social interaction for a long time, so you could hardly blame him - and he had a sort of wise air to him, like he’d been round the block a couple times. He certainly seemed like the sort of person you should listen to.
‘I’ll leave you with this: the life of a Mandalorian is complicated.’ He dusted off his knees, before standing up. ‘You should make sure it’s worth it before you fully commit.’
‘I-’ you tried to speak, but you were cut off by the sound of a twig snapping under someone’s boot. Why the fuck were there twigs in the desert? More to the point, why was that your immediate thought? 
You both sharply turned around, coming face-to-face with a Mandalorian. Not a Mandalorian, but the Mandalorian. The one you’d just been talking about. The one whose heart would have been broken into a million tiny pieces if he’d even a word of what you just said. And, from the way his helmet tilted ever so slightly to the left, you figured he’d heard more than enough. Fuck. 
'Don’t let me stop you.’ His modulated voice wavered ever so slightly. ‘I’ll see you inside.’
He turned on his heel, heavy steps taking him back towards the Slave I. To anyone else, his body language hadn’t changed, but you could read him like a book. A complicated book, and one that was missing more than half its pages and was in a dozen different fucking languages, but one you’d read a thousand times. Understanding Din Djarin was hard, and you’d only just begun -  barely touched the surface in fact - but it was more than anyone else could say. 
‘Wait!’ You leapt up, almost comically falling over as you rushed after him. 
Sensing that his presence was probably not welcome, Boba returned to his seat on the rock, silently hoping that Fennec Shand was either a) asleep, or b) had enough common sense to stay the fuck out of the way of whatever was about to go down. 
‘I swear to maker if you shut that door -’ you were cut off by...the door shutting in your face. Djarin: 1. You: 0.
You let out a small groan, slamming your fist against it. 
‘Okay, maybe I deserved that.’ You quietly muttered. ‘But will you please listen to me?’
Silence. 
‘Fine.’ You splayed your fingers out against the metal. ‘Ice me out, Din Djarin. I’m more than used to it by now.’
There was a gruff hmm from the other side of the door. Had he really just taken offence to that?
‘It’s funny, really.’ You continued. ‘Because the part of that conversation you didn’t hear was me defending you. Like I always fucking do, because I know that despite everything, you’re a human being and you love me.’
There was a small thud, as though Din had placed his hand in a similar position to yours.
‘But Boba has a point.’ Your voice fell to a whisper. ‘I keep giving and I get nothing back. Instead of letting me in, you just shut me out and I know you’re upset at what he said but for the love of everything holy in this shitty world, do not prove him right.’
It was a risky ultimatum, and not one you’d seen coming. Your chest had tightened as soon as the words left your mouth, because you knew that if Din stayed silent, that was it. You’d have to let him go; to accept that you would never get back what you putting in. Before, you were able to convince yourself that you were okay with that but maybe, just maybe you weren’t. Waiting around for something that had no guarantee of happening was like beating a dead horse that had no guarantee of coming back to life. The only thing that was promised was emotional exhaustion and then eventual death. You would have liked to have found something between those two waypoints - whether Din Djarin could be the one to give it to you? You didn’t know. 
After a moment of silence, the door finally opened, and you came face to face with him. Like actually face to face with him; no helmet, no armour. Just a loose tunic and tired brown eyes, matched with lazily-shaven facial hair and knitted brows. That was Din. Your Din. 
‘Can I just...can I just talk for a moment?’ He asked. ‘I have something to say and I want to get it right.’
‘Of course.’ You nodded. 
‘I’m not hurt by what you said.’ He stated. ‘I know I don’t show you enough love and it hurts that I don’t know how, but I am trying. I promise you that much.’
You gave him a tearful smile. ‘Yeah, I know.’
‘I just wish that you could say it to me and not to him.’ He murmured. ‘I don’t want you to hold back on anything, ever. You can always come to me. Even if it’s about me.’
‘I get that.’ Your eyes fell to the floor. ‘It’s just that I know you’re trying your best and I’m scared you’ll think that your best isn’t enough.’ 
‘It’s not.’ Din’s words took you by surprise. ‘It’s not enough, but one day, I hope it will be.’
‘I don’t know what to say, because if I deny it-’
‘- you don’t have to say anything.’ He cut you off. ‘I want to give you the world. And I will, if you’ll be patient with me.’
You took every word as gospel as he said it. The Mandalorian was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. And to his credit, every promise he’d made to you before, he’d delivered on. You didn’t doubt for a second that this one would be the same. It wasn’t even naivety or wishful thinking. 
‘I mean, I’ve come this far.’ You tried to crack a joke. You finally looked up from the floor, his brown eyes meeting yours. 
‘I love you.’ He took your hands in his, words firm. ‘That’s all I can give you right now. I’m sorry.’
‘Din.’ The words barely come out as a whisper. ‘Never apologise. Please never apologise. I just...it’s nice to hear it, you know? A little more often than every time you almost die.’
‘Are the words enough on their own?’
‘Yes.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘Because I know you mean them.’
Din wrapped his arms you, pulling you tightly against his chest. It was warm and soft, miles away from the cold armour that so often greeted you. He held you tightly and with a new kind of might you were previously yet to experience, clinging onto you as though it were the last time. It wasn’t - it was far from the last time. Rather, it was the first time. The first time that he’d spoken of a future with you, or fully promised himself to you. You knew you would get there one day. You’d just needed him to say it himself before you could believe it. 
Din Djarin was giving you tiny little pieces on himself each day, and one day, you would have all of him. 
tags: @meshlababy @bo-kryze @poestardust @aqueencomplexx @princessxkenobi @cosmic-rich @captn-andor @buttercup--bee​ @maharani-radha​ @kat-r-in​
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sunmoonandbucky · a year ago
Text
have you seen baby?
pairing: bucky barnes x reader x natasha romanoff
word count: 3,196
summary: You and your two lovers haven’t gotten to spend much time together.  Also, sex pollen.
warnings: Bad words.  Filthy, filthy smut.  Sex pollen.
a/n:  Thank you so much to @cake-writes for this commission!  I loved writing it and I really hope you enjoy it!
It’s late.  
Well.  Relatively late.  Nearing three in the afternoon, and Natasha hadn’t seen you.  Of course, that barred that morning when she woke up to your pretty face still sleeping beside her.  Unfortunately, Bucky was on a mission, otherwise she’d get to see his equally as pretty face on your other side.  It was disappointing.  There was just something so sweet about waking up to the two loves of her life.
But now, it was almost three, and you hadn’t even emerged from your lab for lunch.
Which is why she headed down two floors to the huge lab that you, Tony, and Bruce shared.  You kind of played as an inbetween for the both of them, wanting to know it all and then some.  It was precious.
But it also meant that you had a bad habit of getting lost in your work and not emerging for hours or sometimes days.  You had been getting better about it, if only because Bucky and Natasha were always on your ass about it.
Which is only because they love you.  So much.  Like.  So so much.
“Have you seen Baby?” Natasha asked Sam, who was wandering through the kitchen after his workout.
He had a protein shake in his hand, sweat dripping from his brow.  “No, can’t say I have.  And you know you can call her by her name when it comes to other people, right?”
She rolled her eyes and gave him a look.  “Her name is Baby.”
“To you.”
“To Bucky and me,” she retorted.  “And besides, she doesn’t even respond to her name when it’s coming from us anymore.”  A small smile crept up on her lips.  “It’s adorable.”  But she was on a mission.  She had a little box that came in with the mail that’s a present just for you.
And sometimes Bucky, depending on how he was feeling.
But Natasha didn’t like being touched.  She liked to give, but never to receive.  Her therapist said it had to do with the various traumas that she’d taken on while growing up in the Red Room.  Her body had never been her own during that time.  She’d been hurt over and over and over again, to the point where someone touching her body in a sexual way sent her into a panic attack.
Bucky was mostly the same way.  He had a hard time with sexual touch, though he’d gotten a lot better about it.
It was just one of those things that Natasha had to deal with.  Not that it was hard.  She loved taking care of you with Bucky’s help.  Their little pillow princess.
You were always the smart girl.  Some could argue that you were smarter than both Bruce Banner and Tony Stark simply because you knew both fields and then some.  You tended to become… obsessed.  You had to know more about everything just for the sake of knowing more.  But with that, your mind was always going a million miles an hour.  Which is why when it came to the bedroom, it was really nice to just be able to let go and not think for a while.  You got to be their dumb little baby girl.  It was always about you when it came to sex.
When it came to who needed cuddles and affection, that was when it was their turn.  You slept in the middle of them, cradled between them like a precious pearl.  You fought off their nightmares for them, their fears.  You made them see that they were more than the weapons they had been crafted into.  You provided relief for each other in different ways.
Before you had come along, Bucky and Natasha’s love had been volatile.  They were missing a piece of the puzzle, even if they hadn’t realized it.
And then their precious little princess had been hired on as a scientist, and their lives were forever changed.  They knew immediately that you were the one for them, their missing piece.
Of course, it had taken a while to get you to understand just what they wanted.  You might be the smartest in the lab, but when it came to relationships…
Which is what brought her to today.  You’d been a little… off lately.  Of course, that could be because her and Bucky had been on back to back missions for the past few months.  There hadn’t been a lot of time for the three of you all together, which was always frustrating.  It was the longest amount of time the three of you hadn’t gotten to all be together since becoming a triad.
And they felt even worse when they both had to leave on missions and leave you all by your lonesome.
Maybe they’d get you a kitten.  You wouldn’t have time for a puppy, but a cat?  You’d love that.  A little lab buddy.  Or maybe they’d get you one of those senior cats with three legs that was deaf in one ear.  Yeah, you’d love that.
But then it would die a lot quicker than a kitten, and they’d have to pick up the pieces because that would destroy you.  But then you’d also be so happy that you got to give the cat a really good few years at the end.
Whatever.  She’d talk to Bucky about it when he got home and they could make a decision.
But the little box.
The elevator down to the lab seemed to take forever, the silence mocking her since Tony absolutely hated elevator music and refused to let it play in the Tower.  But was even more unsettling was the fact that you weren’t in the lab.
“Hey, have you seen Baby?” Natasha asked Tony, who was fiddling with something on his tablet.
“It’s still weird that you call her that to everyone.”
“It’s her name.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Her name is—”
“Baby,” Natasha said, glaring at him.  “Yes, I know.  Have you seen her?”
“You disgust me.”  The man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.  “I think she went down to the spare testing room.  Something about an unknown vapor.”
An unknown vapor?  You hadn’t mentioned that.  Then again, you’d been kinda quiet lately.
She headed down another few floors, bearing the silence as she went through a mental list of things she needed to get done.  It was your birthday soon.  She needed to make sure all three of you could get off, and she’d plan something really special.  You deserved it.
The testing room you’re in has all floor to ceiling windows for walls, but she can’t see you.
“Strange,” she muttered under her breath.  She headed for the doors, and her eyes widened as she saw you through the glass.
You were lying on the ground, sweat dripping from your brow, with your hand in your pants.  From the… rapid way your hand was moving, there was no mistaking what was happening.
But why the hell were you touching yourself right there where anyone could walk by and see you?!  Not that she didn’t like it.  She loved watching you touch yourself and she often ordered you to when she was in a dominating mood.  It was so much fun watching you edge yourself.
No, it was the whole public thing that was confusing her.
You looked up as she started to push the doors open, her eyes widening.  “N-Natasha, no!” You shouted.
But it was too late.  A sickly sweet substance filled her nose, and seconds later, she felt a strange heat creeping up over her.  What the hell was happening?  And why did her skin feel so warm?
“N-Natasha,” you whimpered, rolling on your side.  Your fingers were still rubbing desperately at your clit, trying to find some kind of release.  “Nattie, it hurts.  It hurts.  M-Make it stop.”
And god damn it.  Her precious lover begging her to make whatever it was stop hurting?  She was gonna figure out a way to make it stop hurting.
She crawled towards her, frowning as she saw a broken test tube on the floor.  “What the hell is this?”  She couldn’t read the label on it, the ink smeared.  Tossing it to the side, she finally made it to you.  “W-What hurts, Baby?  What hurts?”
Your glassy eyes were wild as your hips bucked up in the air, a vein on your forehead popping out.  “F-Fuck me.  Fuck me, Nattie, please,” she begged, whining desperately.  “Oh, my god, I need it.  I need it.  Please.”
“H-Here?  Baby, wha—”
“Natasha, please, I am literally beg… begging you.  Please,” you cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Well.  It’s a good thing she brought the box with her.  She ripped it open, pulling out the new harness that she ordered with it.  “Okay.  Okay, angel, but you gotta let me get my strap on, okay?”  She asked sweetly as she stripped down.  She didn’t care who saw.  She had to help her baby girl.
Your response of a weak whimper only made her go faster.
She practically ripped off your clothes, a groan tearing its way out of her throat as she spread your legs.  You were so wet it was obscene, your poor little clit swollen.
“Oh, pretty girl,” she cooed as she ran her fingers through your slick folds, slipping two in with ease.  “You didn’t ask permission to touch yourself, sweetheart…  But I think I can let this time slide…”  With her one free hand, she pulled the new dildo out of its packaging, smirking at the whimper that escaped your lips as you saw it.
It was pretty.  Really pretty.  Eight inches, made of that realistic feeling silicone, and a gorgeous opal color.  Her and Bucky ordered it especially with you in mind, since opals are your favorite.
“N-Natasha, please…”  You grinded against her fingers, your pussy clenching as you tried to get more.
“Oh, good girl…  You look so pretty, Baby.”  She used her one hand to attach the dildo to the harness, her eyes flicking back and forth between the heat between your legs and her fumbling fingers as she finally got it secure.  She ran it through your folds, getting it nice and slicked up.
That’s when the doors opened again, the familiar sound of size twelve boots coming towards them.  “What the hell is that smell and why are you two—”  Bucky broke off as he felt the heat.  “Oh, shit.”
Natasha grinned as she looked over at Bucky.  They were both clearly feeling the heat that the mysterious substance had caused, but not nearly as bad as you were.  “I caught our little baby touching herself without permission… out where anyone could walk by and see her.”
The third member of your triad was already working on undoing his belt, tearing it off so quickly that it ripped a few of his belt loops, leaving little holes in his pants.  “Has our baby been a little naughty?” He asked as he stripped down, kicking off his boots.  He grasped your face with his metal hand, the cool digits a welcome reprieve to the heat that had overwhelmed you.  “Princess, have you been a bad girl?  Huh?”  He lightly slapped your cheek, just enough to get you to answer.  “When I ask a question, I expect an answer, sweetheart.”
You nodded, whining as you nuzzled your head against his cool hand, the angle hurting your neck a little since you were still on your back.  “Yes.  Yes, Bucky.  I’ve been so bad, I’m so sorry…”  You looked up at him with glittering eyes, your cheeks tear stained.  “I need you.  Please.”
His blue eyes were soft as he leaned down, stealing a soft kiss from your swollen lips.  “What’s your safeword, Baby?” He asked, his free hand wrapping around his swollen cock.
“Bracelet.”
“And if you can’t talk?” Natasha probed, still sliding her strap through your folds.
Your hand wrapped around Bucky’s wrist, squeezing twice.
“Good girl,” he said, kissing you once more.  His strong hands flipped you over easily, placing you on your hands and knees.
Almost immediately after, Natasha’s hand came down on your ass, causing you to jerk forward.  “You better suck Bucky’s cock, Baby,” she said as a smirk curled up the edges of her lips.  “If you want me to fuck you, you better put that pretty mouth to good use.”
“But—”
“Did she stutter, angel?” Bucky asked as he grabbed her chin, forcing you to look up at him.  “Tasha gave you an order.  Are you going to be a good girl and listen?”  His flesh thumb ran over your plump bottom lip.  “Don’t you wanna be a good girl for us?  Huh?”
Fuck.  Yeah, you did.  You always wanted to be a good girl for your two lovers.
Matching moans fell from Bucky and Natasha’s mouths as your tongue flicked out to slide up his length, circling around the head.  You always gave absolutely filthy head, your eyes watering as you choked around his length.
As you took him all the way, Natasha slid her strap into your wet heat, all the way to the hilt.  You let out a choked moan, your eyes wide as she started to thrust in and out of you.  Her fingers dug into your hips deliciously, the acrylics she kept at a relatively short length leaving little crescent moon indents.  You loved it.  The pain felt so fucking good.
“We should’ve made you wear your butt plug, Baby.”  Bucky’s jaw clenched as he reached to gather some of your slick on his finger, before circling it around your tight hole.  “Could’ve had you waiting for us to fuck you proper while I was on a mission all week…”
Natasha’s hips slammed against yours as she pressed her lips to Bucky’s.  “We don’t use the diamond one enough considering how much we paid for it.”
You pulled off of Bucky’s cock with a pop, glaring at the two of them.  “Is this the time to be talking about how often we use the butt plug?”
“Did I say you could stop sucking my cock?” Bucky growled as he grabbed your face and started throat-fucking you.  “It’s been too long since we put you in your place, angel.  You’re getting mouthy.”
“She’s always been mouthy.”
Tears rolled down your cheeks as Natasha and Bucky’s thrusts sent waves of pleasure through you.  The heat that had consumed your body was faded, and all you could think about was making your doms feel good.
All the background noise that had been in your mind over the past few weeks was gone, drowned out by the praises coming from your lovers.  All the self-doubt that coursed through your mind was gone when they loved you like this.
You choked around Bucky’s cock as you came suddenly, the release coming over you like a wave.
It only seemed to spur them on more as Natasha fucked you that much harder, Bucky’s fingers scratching soothingly against your scalp as he got closer and closer to the edge.  You could always tell when he was close by the way his thrusts got more and more sloppy.
Natasha’s hand reached down and around to rub your clit, the pretty opal dildo sliding in and out of you with ease.  She wished she had her phone if just so she could record the moans falling from you and Bucky’s mouths.
Hell, she’d make it her fucking ringtone.
It wasn’t long before Bucky came with a shout, spilling down your throat.
He groaned, his head falling back as he felt you licking him clean.  He let you finish before pulling out, getting on his knees and kissing you sweetly.
Your eyes were dazed, a little bit of cum you hadn’t swallowed dribbling out of your mouth.  You looked so damn pretty like that.  Dumb from pleasure.
“You gonna cum again for us, Baby?” He asked sweetly, holding your face in his hands.
A nod, your lips starting to move to form words but not quite getting there.  Adorable.
He watched it coming.  Watched as your breath hitched and your eyes rolled back in your head before you let out a cry.  You blacked out as your second orgasm ripped through you, violently like an earthquake.  A force of nature.
“Seriously?  In the lab?!” Tony demanded, glaring at them from the entrance.  “What the hell happened?!”
Bucky and Natasha were very blasé faire about their own nudity, but they didn’t like anyone else seeing you.  The redhead reached for the little test tube that she’d tossed to the side when she’d first gotten there as he covered you up with his leather jacket, cradling your exhausted body to his chest.  He pressed soft kisses to your forehead as he rocked you back and forth.
“I think it was whatever was in this,” Natasha said as she looked at it curiously, trying to make out what the writing on the label was.  “... Sexus… Pollinis?”
Tony grumbled as he walked over and grabbed the tube, looking it over.  “It’s literally Latin for sex pollen.  Which probably means exactly what we think.”
“Is that what the smell in the air was?” Bucky asked.
Natasha nodded.  “I think most of it spilled on her, which is why she was so affected but we weren’t.”
“Okay.  I’ll… clean all this stuff up,” Tony said.  “Get her out of here and in a bed.  Or a bath.”  He shook his head as he started to call for the robots that mopped the floor.  “Animals.”
You came to in your shared room, curled up between them in your giant tub.  “Wha’ happened?”
“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky cooed, his fingers massaging your sore shoulders.  “How do you feel?”
For some reason, you started crying.  It just came over you.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Natasha said, cupping your face and wiping your tears.  “Baby, what’s going on?  Huh?  Talk to us…”
“I-I’ve just been f-feeling so alone a-and this is the first time w-we’ve all been together in two m-months,” you whimpered in a shattered glass voice, barely able to string together a full sentence through your hiccups.  “A-And you’ve been gone s-so often that all I can think is m-maybe I’m j-just here because you’re both d-dominants and needed a s-s-submissive!”
Bucky and Natasha’s faces both fell and they squeezed you that much closer to them.
“Oh, Baby, no,” Natasha said.  Her heart hurt as she realized that that’s why you’ve been so off lately.  “We love you so much.  So, so much.”
“I think it’s time we stopped going on so many missions anyway, Baby,” Bucky added, his fingers tickling up and down your back.  “I’m tired of not being home with my girls.”
“Really?” You asked softly, looking at him like he’d just told you he’d give you the moon.
“Yeah,” Natasha said, bringing your hand to her lips.  She pressed a kiss to your left ring finger as her eyes met Bucky’s, a knowing look on his face.  Maybe soon there’d be a ring on that finger.  “Really, Baby.”
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its-afucking-mess · 2 months ago
Text
Flooded - Ethan Torchio angst
There's bound to be flaw in recovery.
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Warnings (please spare them a read): suicide attempt (drowning), mention of previous attempt, mentions of self harm, intrusive thoughts, fighting.
Note: this is fiction. im not implying this is ethan, and im not in any way trying to project this on him. this was kinda made as a vent/rant thing, and i used this fictional charscterisation of ethan to project slightly (also it might be a bit bad because of that lol). stay fresh, stay safe and stay sane <3.
More works
________
He was getting better. He had to be.
Victoria had stopped pestering him about eating. Thomas stopped running after him with bottles of water everywhere. Damiano had stopped the lectures inspirational speeches before and after shows. They weren’t in his hair all the time, not as much as before.
He looked at the half-filled bathtub next to him. The empty bathroom. The closed door. He had re-earned their trust. He was allowed to go out alone, to be in his room alone, with the door closed. They didn’t monitor him. Not that much.
Today marked 2 months since Ethan’s first attempt. He hadn’t actually done something, but the thought was there. He had been too overwhelmed by panic, fear, guilt. The blade never met skin, just hovered over his wrist. Victoria’s cries were all the same behind the locked door. He still wasn’t “allowed” to lock the door behind him, but it’s not like he ever had to. Plus, no one locked their doors. There wasn’t a need, they were all incredibly comfortable with each other.
Ethan sighed. Today wasn't good. He hasn’t been feeling too healthy lately, his mind seemed more intoxicated then if he were on drugs. He was out of medication, his therapist had the week off and the “reassuring” replies long after his episodes were starting to feel like mockery. He had snapped at Thomas today. Yelled at Vic. He, albeit not hard, had slapped Damiano flat across his face. Damiano hadn’t reacted, and neither had Ethan. He just waited for the older to yell at him, waited for the lecture, maybe a slap in return, tears pooling at his eyes. “We all know you aren’t well, but right now, you are being a dick” Damiano had said, voice not wavering once as he followed behind Vic and Thomas, out of the studio, maybe even out of the house. Ethan had just stayed there, letting the tears finally roll down his cheeks.
That was when the thought had first resurfaced. Ethan doubted he'd ever drop in that mental state again, yet the all too familiar voice grew from the back of his mind. He closed the running water before the bath got full. He didn’t take his clothes off. He wanted the extra weight.
He should probably feel more remorse. Last time, the fear of disappointing anyone had grounded him. You think that’d be the case now, too. But right now, he felt like he didn’t care. The thought had been tugging at his head.
“Always so impulsive, seems like so lately. God, you’re a massive jerk. The others must be so disappointed. Fucking kill yourself, but actually do it this time, coward”
That’s where he felt remorse. He couldn’t not apologise after being such an ass. So, when the others were back, even if they tried to avoid the drummer, he managed to apologise. He had hugged Thomas, holding back tears as he apologised for snapping at him. He let Vic punch him softly at his shoulder, a “stronzo” making out of her lips with a soft grin. He offered himself for Damiano to slap him back, but the older just patted his shoulder and accepted the apology, followed by a tight embrace and a strong slap to his ass. Ethan had laughed, ‘cause that’s who Damiano is, and that’s how he knew he wasn’t mad. Far from it; Damiano seemed in a playful mood.
They had settled on this random film, played on the national channel. Even if he had been forgiven, Ethans mindset didn’t change. The thought had rooted, and the apologies had seemed as if out of pity to his brain. Like the others had to accept the shitty excuse of word mumbles that Ethan had the nerve to call an apology, for fear Ethan would do something.
He knew that he was gone. Too far gone to stop himself. He remembered the signs from last time. If he had any chance of stopping himself, of someone talking him some sense into him, it was now. This was his only chance to revert. To stop before any serious damage was made.
He never said anything. He didn’t want to break the relaxed atmosphere. Not everything was about him. Ethan let himself slip into that state of idleness. All his movements were automatic. Get up. Excuse yourself to take a simple bath. Go to the bathroom. He’d figure the rest from there.
He had closed the door. Not locked it, a sliver of hope telling him the others would notice, that they will check on him before all went to shit. The illogical voice in his head drowned the remaining hope, not before Ethan stood by the foot of the bath.
He was strong enough to keep himself under the water. It was a matter of starting. He knew it would hurt, he had heard about it. His lungs will seize, spasm, his heart will race, his muscles will put up a fight, would resist. It will burn, his chest will burn, it will feel like it’ll collapse on itself, like his heart would beat itself out of his chest. He’ll black out from the lack of oxygen. Then his throat will relax, reflectively, letting the water in. By then, its mere seconds before he’s dead.
It seemed simple enough. He had rehearsed it in his head. He wasn’t going to make noise, either.
He didn’t want the attention on him, not after how he had been treated after the first attempt. It was like he was made of glass, as if he was a child that didn’t know better. It had annoyed him to no extent. Therapy had been exhausting, and the medication had left him wanting to hurt himself more than before. He remembers those nights, goosebumps on his skin. Everything had been triggering, even his own pained reflection the following days.
Ethan was stalling.
He knew he was. All these memories, it’s the remaining sanity in him screaming at him that it isn’t worth it. It wasn’t loud, or clear in his head, and the full thought, the full consideration of stopping never reached his train of thought.
With a sigh, he steps in. The water feels uncomfortable against the fabric. It sticks to his legs as he gets in, the cotton absorbing the water, the dampness rising up his leg. He sits down. He’s taking it slow. Ethan’s way less scared than last time. Feeling way less guilty. So what if he was selfish? He could admit it, he did admit it when he apologised to the others. It’s not like it would matter anymore.
He layed lower, slowly wetting his shirt. It clings on his shoulders, weighing him down. His mouth feels dry, his stomach is twisting in dread. He is dreading this next part, but he’s also longing for it. The desire, the need runs deep in his blood.
He didn’t go under straight away. He let his hair get wet, splashed some of the water on his face. His head felt heavier, throbbing in pain. Of course a headache would manifest itself now of all times. It all made Ethan want to go under the water even more. Sure, he’d struggle. It’ll hurt. But he’d feel free. He’ll free everyone from himself, he’ll free himself from himself.
With a deep, shuddering breath, hands gripping the sides of the marble tub tight, he lowered his head under the water.
It doesn’t hurt at first. It feels like a simple dive in the pool, in the sea. His eyes closed as he’d let the freezing water cool his body under the summer sun. He exhaled, the bubbles escaping to the surface. Then his chest started to ache, and his lungs demanded more air. Ethan doesn’t go up. His hands grip tighter, and he lays motionless as the pain grows. It goes up to his throat, and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. His mouth opens reflectively, only to be met by water instead of air. Ethan’s body tries to expel the water, but more seems to find a way in. It’s an endless, painful cycle of coughing, trying to get the water out, then choking when more water enters his mouth.
The fear was settling, and he was split. His body was screaming at him to let go, to let his head float and break the surface. The pain was so much worse than he made himself believe, his hands on fire and chest heaving, his heart rate picking up speed with every unsuccessful inhale. His body keeps trying, keeps fighting, legs bent at the knees as he tries to ground himself, to exhaust this energy that fights for him. He doesn’t dare open his eyes. The fuzziness at the back of his mind approaches fast, and it seems rewarding. His legs have stilled, dropped. His knuckles have gone white, and the end of his pain, to his overa;; suffering is near. His end is near, and it excited him as much as it terrified him.
He was about to welcome the feeling of numbness, his senses slipping away.
A strong hand breaks his grip on the tub, relaxes his arms, and another three pairs of arms pull his head out of the water. He can’t fight them.
Ethan lets out an involuntary gasp of relief. He coughs, he heaves and the tears run hot, even through his closed eyes. He felt like he was being edged. He was so, so close to what he wanted what he thought he wanted, so close to his release. And it was robbed away from him. He couldn’t help the tears, or the sobs, or the continuous coughing as his body got itself together- as much as it could, still.
It felt unfair, in the moment. Maybe, if he slept on it, he’d be grateful. That’s what his therapist had told him. But now, it was cruel. It was unjust and it was sheer torchure to him. Aching hands covered his face, the ones that had pulled him out not having left his back still, instead supporting him. The water felt shallower and shallower, until it was only him in the bath. He didn’t put up a fight when hands tugged at his clothes, he paid no attention to what he thinks is Damiano speaking to him. He sulks, and he lets his body hang limp, leaving all control to the others.
He felt exhausted, he was in heavy, overwhelming pain, both physically and mentally. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. Maybe even forever. He didn’t have the heart to face anyone, and he went from having no guilt, to being swallowed by remorse.
Ethan didn’t speak a word the rest of the evening. He didn’t have it in him to apologise, not yet, not while he still tried to convince himself he wanted to be dead.
He spent the rest of the night in a cuddle pile with Vic, Thomas and Damiano, and for maybe the hundredth time that day, he let tears run down his cheek. But this time, it was out of joy, of love.
They actually cared for him, they stopped him from doing something irreversible. Ethan snuggled into the cuddle pile more, and Damiano’s “Welcome back, bambino” brought a smile to his face, one he was unable to hide.
________
tags: @cheese-toastie-11 @writingmaneskin @teenyweenynightghost @idyllicbutterfly @que--sera--sera @icarodamiano @mywritingonlyfans @oro-e-diamanti
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twistedmusings · 10 months ago
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What Are You Writing?
A/N: JOKES ON YOU GUYS, I'M AN OBEY ME WRITERS BLOG NOW. Nah not really, I mean maybe I might start thinking about making one in the future but I see all these awesome writers in that fandom and I get i n t i m i d a t e d. Nevertheless, I did want to pull a harmless prank on my readers so...enjoy a labor of love and possible regret as I now have to work on other requests ó uò
How would the brothers act with a Writer MC?
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-He almost jumps when you walk into the room, practically shouting his name as you go to stand next to his desk and take a peek at what he is working on.
“Can I help you? “You certainly can.”
-You place a notebook next to his stack of paperwork and take a pen out, opening it up to a blank page before staring at him and building up your courage to ask the next question.
“What would you do if I suddenly asked you to be my fake boyfriend for a day?”
-You certainly were keeping up with your role in being the one human he isn’t able to pin down, huh?
-He asks what in the world you are talking about and you squat near him so that you can explain what you were doing. RAD proved to be a lot more stressful than you thought and you didn’t need to remind him that you were playing therapist to seven demons so you needed some sort of break.
-You tell him that in the human world you had a habit of writing ideas, snippets and even random bits of dialogue when you got stressed so you had asked Satan to lend you a notebook and a pen so you could unwind but you had gotten stuck in one scene.
-The character you were writing was loosely based on Lucifer so you decided why not ask him what he would do in order to get some inspiration!
“So here I am! I don’t need an entire synopsis I just want to know because maybe that will spark something inside of me.”
-Pen to paper, you look up at Lucifer ready to write anything down and even though you were looking him straight in the eye you were not paying attention to just how hard Lucifer was staring at you.
-You really had no idea how he felt about you, did you?
-Even with the pact making, the Hellfire Newt Syrup incident, the countless of times he had tried to flirt with you to the point that anyone without eyes could tell how he felt about you, your human brain did not seem to accept the fact that the eldest of the seven demon lords had fallen for you.
-Was this just another way of torturing him? Who would have thought that you would be such a cruel master?
-If only he wasn’t bound to you by the pact. Not that he regretted it but without the pact the ‘need’ to submit to you wasn’t as strong, all he would have to do is grab your chin, turn your face towards his so that he could tell you explicitly what was going through his head every time he saw you--
“...I would walk you to class, first and foremost. We would leave the House of Lamentation together and arrive together as well. Maybe some impromptu dates. Free tutoring as well.” “That’s tempting~ Would you let me hang around in your study?” “You are already welcome to do that.” “Aw, when did you get so soft?”
-Get the hint already!
-Your hand is scribbling down every idea he says, making quips here and there as you both talk extensively about your fake dates would play out. The idea of having you all to himself without his brothers around was already so tempting yet here you were talking about it like it was just a passing thought.
-That wouldn’t do.
-He grabs the top of your pen and smiles when you look up at him in confusion.
“At end of the day, I want to make you feel like the most important person in my world. I don’t want there to be a single doubt in your mind that you belong with me. Pact or no pact, you changed me in ways I couldn’t even fathom, MC, and I am doing everything in my power so that you will see just how important you are to me.”
-Your eyes are staring up at him, wide and with surprise as he dares to cup your cheek.
-He did it. He had gotten through to you! All he had to do was lean in and--!
“Can you repeat that one more time?! Oh my god Luci that was so good! I’m showing this to Satan when I’m done! Thank you so much!”
-Lucifer’s hand drops to his lap as he watches you pick yourself up and run out of his study, his fist clenching in his hand as he thought of just how blind you could be for not seeing what he had tried to convey with those cliched words! Of all the humans--!
-He stops as he hears your giggles outside of the hallway, unclenching his fist and sighing as he tries to look at the positives.
-There had been a flush on your cheeks, of that he was sure. Which meant that in some way...his words had made an impact. He hoped it would take just a few more cheesy lines for you to fall for him.
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”Mammon!!!!”
-From the top of his head to the tip of his toes, Mammon could feel himself shiver as you called out his name. Ever since he made that pact the way you would call out his name would send a pleasant shiver down his spine as he turned to greet you.
-Levi told him that you had been looking for him and he had practiced his greeting at least five times to make him look as cool as possible.
“Yo MC! I heard you were looking for the Great Mammon!”
-See? Wasn’t he cool?
-The brothers watched as you didn’t even greet Mammon, you just grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the living room telling everybody that you needed to talk to him privately.
-Privately? As in you two alone? Together?
-Well of course you wanted to talk to him alone! His awesome ways had probably finally gotten through to you and you were about to confess to him. Suck on THAT Lucifer!
-You push him into your room before closing the door and turning to look at him.
“I have something I need to ask you. Do you think you can help?”
-The words escape him before he even thinks them.
“Anything.”
“I want to go out with you. Tonight. Almost like a pretend date.”
-Fireworks go off inside his head as he feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. This was real, you were asking him out! You had picked him out of all his brothers despite how many messes he got you in and how much trouble tended to follow him--
-Wait, pretend?
-You proceed to show off your little book of writings, explaining to him that you had gotten stuck in trying to describe a hidden date between the protagonist and the love interest.
“They are trying to hide the fact they are dating from everybody so that they won’t get in trouble. I figured that a human and a demon going on a date is already somewhat of stigma as it is so I just want to see how it feels so I can describe it better.”
-He can’t really describe the sadness that he feels when you tell him it would all be pretend. Too much for dropping Grimm on wishing wells. He was going to go back and fish them all out tomorrow. What a letdown!
-Here he was, the GREAT Mammon letting a human toy with his heart like this!
“You won’t get in too much trouble if we do this...right?”
-The worry in your voice is what makes him look into your eyes. Your hand was on his as you looked for any signs of discomfort from the Avatar of Greed. Your eyes were entirely on him.
-Mammon’s subconscious: More of that please.
-You looked so worried for his well-being. Mammon had no idea who had told you that humans and demons were not allowed to date but they had clearly lied to you. There was no stigma whatsoever. And in retrospect he should reveal that to you now so that there would be no misinformation on how much he wanted to take you on a not pretend date.
-But all your attention was on him. Your body was facing his way, your hands on his as you licked your lips nervously. More, more, more, more he needed for you to look at him more--!
“Tch. Making such a complicated request. You could really get me in trouble for this, MC!” “You’re right, I shouldn’t push it--” “But I guess if you are asking me, I could spare a couple hours...for you.”
-You both share a smile as you hug him close, his arms wrapping around you tight as he tries to keep his smile from breaking out into full blown giggles.
-This worked out for him as well! He was going to give you the best date of your human life so you would have no choice but to fall for him! You better get ready!
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-You wrote some fiction, he wrote TSL fanfiction, Levi was probably already aware of your talent once he asked to beta one of his other works and you came back not just with some beta but with some actual USEFUL feedback unlike Satan going on about his spelling mistakes. -So you are already in his room when you ask for his help, grinning as you hold up the small ideas that you had written for your proper introduction into the TSL fandom.
“I want to write an AU about Henry and the Lord of Shadows in an arranged marriage!”
-The premise was simple. You wanted to write about the Lord of Shadows and his Henry having to marry each other in order to bring peace to both of their kingdoms. The marriage proposition was sudden and each of the seven brothers was against it but you wanted to show just how much Henry was willing to sacrifice to help the people who he cared about the most.
-And you loved drama like this.
-You hold up your book as you keep ranting to Levi, the other caught up in your plot as he closed his eyes in order to better imagine it.
“And I want a moment where the Lord of Shadows tells Henry that he doesn’t have to do this. That he wants him to be happy and doesn’t want him to be stuck with a reclusive Lord for all his life.”
-Of course, of course. The Lord of Shadows had always hoped for Henry’s happiness and he had also sacrificed a great many of his previous ways in order to gain his best friend’s praise! Levi was proud, you understood these characters so well! So he pipes in with his own thoughts.
“I bet Henry turns to him and asks why he is so against the idea! It would push the Lord of Shadows to confess that he has secretly longed for Henry’s affection and attention all this time!”
-You both grin before you stand up, putting on a fake sad face as you take Levi’s hand in yours before pressing them to your chest.
“Am I not worthy to be your spouse? Do you hate the idea of marrying me that much?”
-Levi is caught up in the moment that he doesn’t even notice how close you two are, instead moving even closer as he cupped your cheek.
“You? Not worthy? It is I who is not worthy of you. After all you have done...can I be selfish enough to call you mine?”
-Oh this was practically writing itself! You really hoped that Levi remembered some of these lines. You pull away from his touch dramatically before sighing as you decide that this scene would be a good catalyst moment for a confession.
“Have you ever thought of me that way? More than what we have now? I’m embarrassed to admit it but...I have on many occasions longed for something more.”
-Levi’s expression softens in a way you haven’t seen before, keeping a hold on your hands as he follows up with you seamlessly.
“If I told you about my fantasies...about the deep need I feel to keep you away from prying eyes and hoping that yours would remain on me despite the others who so badly wish for your hand. Would you still see me in such high regard?”
-Shit he was good. The prying eyes bit was perfect! Now to end it with a bang! You feel Levi pull you by your waist so you are pressed against his chest, eyes looking down at you as if begging for your reply. So you do what you have read in many other books and take his face in your hands.
“Keep me. Forever.”
-You both stay that way for a few seconds before you pull away and let out a giddy squeal, rushing over to your book and writing down the lines that you could remember, gushing about how Levi had just given you the best ending ever.
-What you didn’t see was the poor demon standing there, arms still pretending to hold someone as the spell broke for him slowly. He needed to process just what the hell just happened.
-He had held your hands, touched you, had you close enough that he could feel you against him and you hadn’t even moved away! Levi could still see how warm your hands were on his cheeks and the words that you had said to him were now slowly coming back to him as he remembered his embarrassing replies!
-You jump and turn when you hear a clatter behind you, turning around to see that Levi had fainted and was now slumped against one of his many manga bookshelves, face all red and a dopey smile on his lips as he repeated your words over and over.
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-If you had a writing buddy in Levi, then you got a plot bunny buddy with Satan.
-With the amount of books that he has read and the number of genres he is into, you are surprised that he finds your ideas mildly interesting. They were all just cliches and purely for your enjoyment so when he asked you if he could read some of what you had written you were too shocked to notice that he had already taken the book from your backpack.
“A love story...interesting.”
-You two were in the library, looking for a certain book about black magic casting as well as some examples of ritual circles that you needed to complete for your next assignment. Or rather you were looking for the books, he was just following close behind you as he read your latest entry.
“How are you stuck in this scene?” “Huh?” “How the main character meets the second love interest. It’s pretty obvious.”
-Well excuse you for having writer’s block. You know that he was trying to be helpful but his help always came with some sort of sarcastic twinge that, while endearing during some situations, was incredibly annoying when he was criticizing your writings. You turn back to look at him as you stop at the spot the book was supposed to be in.
“I haven’t necessarily fallen in love with anyone lately, you know! It’s too specific a feeling!”
-Satan’s eyes take in the way you tip-toe to try and reach the book, cursing under your breath as you struggled to get it from the highest shelf. Devildom libraries were notoriously famous for having ridiculously large bookshelves and only a ghost attendant would be able to help you. He looks down at your book and then back at the small scene before smiling as he snaps the book shut.
-Surely a bit of inspiration is all you needed, correct?
-You feel a hand on your lower back, another brushing the hand reaching out for the book and grabbing it for you. Satan smiles as he holds out the book to you.
“Black magic casting...and you needed something about ritual circles, right? It seems the perfect book is right next to you.”
-He ‘accidentally’ brushes your cheek when reaching out for the book behind you, humming for a moment before he puts it back and looks down at you without moving his arm out of the way. Satan had just effectively trapped you in a rather flawlessly executed Kabedon.
“...Satan...the book…” “It wasn’t the right one. Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to get you in this position.”
-Your eyes were shining, the book was pressed right against your chest, he could even see the small blush adorning your face as the situation became quite clear to you. Now he wouldn’t tell you that he had practiced this sort of scenario by himself in his room just in case you ever asked him for help finding a book, better for you to believe that this had all been just a ‘happy’ accident.
“You are looking at me so seriously, MC.” “I know what you are doing.”
-He dares to move closer, his shadow casting over you as if to hide you from prying eyes. If you made the first move, there would be no one stopping him.
“Yeah?” “This would be perfect! A library setting! Gives me a chance to make the character like a cool librarian type!”
-Satan stays silent as you grab the books you need and snatch your notebook from his hand, stating that you were going to check these out immediately and then head home. He turns back to look at the place you were just standing at, the place where you had been completely at his mercy.
-Dammit, he should have blocked the other side too.
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-Asmo was ecstatic when you asked him for his book collection.
-It annoyed him to no end when people thought that the only way he consumed his erotica was through personal experience and porn. In his opinion, after personal experience, the best way to enjoy his usual favourite activity was reading erotica. The descriptions, to get into the thoughts of the inner characters and seeing how they essentially lose their minds to the pleasure. It was thrilling.
-So when you come knocking at his door one night and ask for one of the books you usually catch him reading, he is both excited and curious.
“Which one do you want darling? I have the first volume of ‘Eternal Dom Love’, ‘Baring My Soul to a Demon’, ‘Captive Human’--” “You have anything like...with dirty talk?
-Oh now he is really excited and curious.
-He looks around his small library and pulls out the book he thinks is best for what you desired, holding it out for you to take but pulling it back quickly with a grin. Asmo wasn’t going to just let you walk away after telling him something so interesting~
“I’m a bit possessive about my books, MC~ What are you going to use it for? Recreational reasons?”
-You blush and cover your face with your hands, not really embarrassed for asking but instead embarrassed that you were about to tell him what you were going to do with it. But you steel yourself, you had heard Asmo flirt in the club before and from how quickly his dates had insisted on taking it to a more ‘private’ area, you knew he had the thing that you desperately needed.
“I…” “Yes?” “I’m-trying-to-write-the-prelude-to-a-sex-scene-in-one-of-my-stories-but-I-have-no-idea where-to-start-so-I-need-material!”
-Asmo blinks before grinning as he got in your face, pushing the book into your hands as he asked you what the story was about, who were the characters, had you based them off of anybody and just what kind of sex scene where you planning?
-He had no idea you had that kind of talent, where had you been hiding that all this time?
-You slowly explain the plot to him, getting a bit more into it as you see how much attention Asmo is paying to your every word. Out of all of the brothers you didn’t expect him to be so interested in one of your stories! The scene you have in mind is somewhat clear to you so you try to explain to him just what you think is missing.
“It is a demon and a human. They are clearly not supposed to be doing this. Yet that is--” “What makes it all the more appealing.”
-Asmo had played this out perfectly given the little time he had to work with. The more you talked, the closer he got to you. The closer he got, the more you moved away subconsciously. Your body instinctively wanted to make room for him and give him his space but you let out a small ‘meep’ when the back of your knees hit the side of his hanging chair and you find yourself sitting down as he kneels in front of you.
“They both know that if they take such a intimate step with one another they might not be able to go back to how they used to be before. Everything will change.”
-You nod as Asmo touches your leg, hand moving towards your thigh as he rests his chin on your knees.
“But what is so wrong with change? You said the demon is a charmer so they would want to charm them throughout the whole thing. It would start out slow, teasing even, probably testing out the waters as they see what their human likes and doesn’t like."
-He scoots closer and traces your fingers, the digits wrapped tightly around his book as he continues..
“They would eventually lose control, wouldn’t they? The passion would be too much for them to handle and they both would lose themselves to their lust. Although it wouldn’t be just lust…”
-Asmo looks up to meet your eyes, straightening out as he leans in closer to the point that you are shutting your eyes and leaning in as well--it’s not that you haven’t had experience with kisses but surely the demon of lust’s kiss would spark something inside your head--!
-You open your eyes when you feel the book leaving your hands.
“I changed my mind. I think this would be a much better title for what you are looking for, Sweetie.”
-He holds out your hand for you to stand up and you almost want to ask Solomon to cast some sort of spell that would make you forget everything that happened in these moments. You closed your eyes like some highschooler waiting for their first kiss--you were better than that!
-You thank him and make your way out of his room, running back to yours as fast as you can without noticing Asmo’s mischievous smile as he waved goodbye. It was always good to play the long game~
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-You two had stopped at Madame’s Scream because Beel had complained about being hungry yet again. Besides you both had done rather well on an examination so--why not celebrate?
-You only had a small fizzy drink while Beel had ordered himself something called ‘The Herculean Parfait’, something about it holding 25 scoops of ice cream plus whip cream, nuts and some waffle cones at the bottom. Now the waiter had brought out two spoons but it was clear that Beel would only be needing one.
-This was rather normal for you two, Beel eating his fill while you stared at the blank page of your small notebook. You were trying to write a cute scene with a couple sharing a dessert at a coffee shop where they first met but you were struggling to think of a fluffy scenario.
-Was feeding your partner considered cheesy nowadays? You tap your page twice before looking at Beel. The second spoon remained untouched, some ice cream specks stuck to the shiny, concave surface as the Demon of Gluttony continued his ice cream carnage. You grab the spoon and take some from the side that had yet to be eaten.
“Hey Beel”
-The demon stops eating and looks at you as you hold out the spoon to him, his hunger suddenly stopping as he looks at the sugary contents stacked high on the spoon you were holding out for him.
“Say aah!”
-Beel blinks but doesn’t think twice the moment you give him the command, opening his mouth and eating the sugary confection off the spoon, his smile growing as you let out a small giggle.
“Did it taste good?" “Mmm~!" “I’m glad.”
-He abandoned his own spoon as you scooped up some more, opening his mouth as you kept on feeding him. Beel had no idea what had brought this on or why you were suddenly feeding him. It wasn’t like he was complaining, however. Yes your pace was slow and such a giant parfait would surely melt with how slow you were going but he didn’t care, instead opening his mouth wide as you kept on feeding him.
“So Beel…” “Mmm?" “Does it feel any different when I feed you?”
-Beel frowns when the spoon stops but decides to answer your question so that he could go back to eating. Why would it feel any different? Well, it somewhat did? He didn’t know how to describe it but he does feel a lot fuller than before. He is actually tasting the food as you take your time scooping up some more. He had picked out so many different flavors and he could taste almost every single one.
“I wouldn’t say different...but food certainly tastes better when you give it to me.”
-You immediately stop and put the spoon down, smiling as you start to writing down what Beel had just said. You could essentially build an entire scene around that! What a good idea coming here--
“MC?”
-Your pen stops as you look at Beel, your pen falling from your hands as you see the puppy dog look he was giving you. He looks at your hand and then at the spoon.
“Why did you stop?”
-Beel smiles happily as you go right back to what you were doing, the notebook forgotten as you continue to spoil your demon. You had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time you were doing this.
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-Belphie yawned as he cuddled you closer, your hands moving so they would be wrapped around his neck but still holding onto your phone. He closes his eyes and tries to drift off but frowns when he hears your fingers tapping on your screen. He could probably sleep through the sound but he didn’t want to.
“Turn around.” “Huh?” “Just turn around.”
-You do as he says, now pressed against his chest as you continue to type. Belphegor was close to falling asleep, pressing his nose against your shoulder as he breathes you in---
Tap tap tap tap
“Fuck this.”
-He grabs your phone and drops it off the bed, your protests being muffled as he wraps his arms around your neck to pull you close. You tap his arms twice before wiggling out of his hold, sitting up on the bed and looking at him while he glared back at you.
-What did you think you were doing typing away on your phone? Belphegor never really asked you for much but when it was cuddle time it was cuddle time. You weren’t supposed to do anything *but* cuddle during cuddle time so you clearly needed to stop being distracted.
“What do you think you are doing?” “Taking care of your distraction.”
-You both stare at each other as he sits up as well, clearly letting you know that if you were to go and dig for your phone he wasn’t going to let you. At this point, it really was useless to argue with Belphegor. As the youngest, he was used to getting what he wanted with little setback. So you lay back down, ignoring the triumphant smile Belphegor gave you as he went right back to cuddling you.
“I was writing something.” “It can wait till later…”
-Belphegor yawns and wraps his leg around you, ignoring the little ‘hmphs’ you were giving him as well as the words you were muttering to yourself. But what good would it be if you weren’t cuddling up to him as well so he decided to give in as well.
“What were you writing about?”
-Oh this was new. You turn to face him, talking about the scene you were working on. This couple had just had an exhausting day and they were eager to lay in bed together but their work or other responsibilities were keeping them from cuddling at night. You explained how you wanted to describe the exhaustion one was feeling from not having their partner with them.
-The demon of Sloth hummed when you mentioned how tired the character was and speaking up about how he knew how they felt. You chuckle and mention that it seemed that everything made Belphegor exhausted nowadays. He shakes his head, opening his eyes so he could look at you.
“No. I mean that everything gets heavier when you’re not with me.”
-You try to cut it in and ask him what he is talking about but he beats you to it.
“I get more energy when you are around. I actually want to do things aside from sleeping. “Are you saying you like hanging out with me more than sleeping?” “Don’t push it, MC.”
-Both of you laugh, your body cuddling closer to the demon as you yawn. A part of you was still annoyed that Belphegor had shoved your phone to the floor because now would have been a prime time to write that he had just said but as your eyes grew heavier you just hoped that you would remember it by the time you woke up.
-Belphegor opens his eyes once he feels your breathing evening out, smiling as he leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead.
“You weren’t far off...I do like you more than sleeping...sometimes…”
-He yawns and wraps an arm around your waist. What a good idea it was to lock the door so none of his brothers would bother you two. Your nights were his, after all.
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quicksilversquared · a year ago
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Superhero Salary
It all started with a joke. It ended with Ladybug and Chat Noir finally getting some of the compensation that they deserved.
After all, fame isn't going to pay the bills.
links in the reblog
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It all started with a (mostly) joking comment from Chat Noir, blurted out in a moment of frustration.
"I hate it when that happens," he had grumbled after Ladybug knocked him free from the akuma's control. "Stupid, stupid mind-control akumas. Tell Hawkmoth that if he's going to insist on akumas like that, he's gonna have to pay for my therapy after this is all over!" he hollered after the akuma, who was clearly hopping mad about no longer having a superhero under his control. "A superhero salary doesn't exactly pay enough for it!"
He had been kidding, at least mostly. Kidding or not, though, the complaint was out there.
The moment had been picked up by the Ladyblog, of course, just as part of the bigger fight. But it wasn't long before it absolutely exploded over the internet.
Sure, maybe in comic books it was implied that superheroes always worked for free. But was that really fair? After all, Ladybug and Chat Noir were providing a service to the city. They were taking the time out of their normal lives to save Paris and put things back to rights, and they were doing it often. They had to come out whenever Hawkmoth sent out an akuma, not just when they had a spare bit of time that they could use to fight crime. Just like policemen and firefighters, they were putting themselves in danger by fighting on the front line. And if they were in jobs, or were in school- well, having to duck out regularly had to be affecting them, and not in a positive way.
If they had jobs, they could very well be on the edge of losing them because of all of the times they went missing. Even if they were self-employed- well, then they would still be losing out on some serious work time and having to work late into the night instead. And if they were in school...
Then they would be in danger of falling behind and need help to keep on top of their schoolwork. Tutors and online courses both cost money.
And on top of all of that, there was superhero merchandise being made using their colors and images, clothes and dolls and souvenirs and toys. Surely they should be getting a cut of the profit from that.
With only a few exceptions, Paris was soon in agreement: their superheroes needed to be earning a salary.
Marinette wasn't quite certain what to think of it all.
"Tikki, what do I say if the mayor decides to give us a salary?" she implored, slumping back in her chair. "I mean, even if it would be possible to safely get the money, I just don't know."
Part of her wanted to do the noble thing and say no to a salary. After all, she was Ladybug because she wanted to help! Plus, would public perception of them change if they were technically city employees? The mayor might think that he had the power to call them up on command, which would really stink.
But- well, Marinette was a teenager, and no sane teenager would turn down money, particularly when it was money for work that she had done. Even though she wasn't exactly struggling- she got an allowance, plus money from babysitting Manon and of course commission money, and besides she was a teenager and not an adult with a million living expenses- having more money in her account for fabric or design classes or her future career wasn't a bad thing.
"Well, Plagg and I could certainly set things up so that all of the money you get would be funneled through us and our magic," Tikki told her. "And we would be careful about not matching up the amounts or making them regular! There's ways that we can do it without attracting attention."
Marinette nodded. That was one question answered, but the other?
"As for if you should take the money..." Tikki considered that. "I mean, there's a lot to consider. But I'd like to point out that you don't know how long you'll be fighting Hawkmoth, or if there'll be any other threats after he's gone to deal with. That could interfere with you having a regular job. And if the akuma attacks keep disrupting your school day and you need to hire a tutor to help you keep up but you don't want your parents knowing, having the extra money could help. Or if you decide to sign up for an online school so that you can look up lessons that you missed in class, you could pay for that! But people might have strong opinions about superheroes taking money, too."
"That's a lot of positives and only one negative," Marinette pointed out. "I mean, it could be annoying to listen to people judging, but unless they're in the majority..."
Either way, it was going to be disheartening to hear people judging her for taking the money. But as long as they weren't in her face or spreading lies about her and Chat Noir now not being motivated to take down Hawkmoth because that would mean an end to the money or something ridiculous like that, she could probably ignore it. Maybe she could make some donations with the money she was getting to dispel those rumors.
Honestly, she'd probably do that anyway. There were so many organizations and people in need in Paris, and if Marinette was earning money then of course she would want to support them.
Of course, that all depended on if the officials even offered the salary in the first place, which was honestly looking really likely. It looked like public opinion was strongly in their favor, and the mayor was seriously easily waived by public opinion most of the time. And anything to do with the superheroes- well, it was publicity gold.
And in the end, it only took a week of deliberations- entirely about how much Ladybug and Chat Noir should be making, and puzzling out how much of the profit from sales of their merchandise they should be getting on top of their salary- before the announcement went out that the superheroes would be offered payment. A day after that, Ladybug and Chat Noir accepted their salary and gave the city's head payroll officer the information their kwamis had given them for the kwami bank accounts, so that they could get their paychecks without risking their secret identities.
"I didn't expect things to blow up like this when I said that, about not earning enough for therapy," Chat Noir admitted after they had left. He had seemed put-together and confident when they were in the office- which Ladybug had appreciated, because the sums that were being discussed were absolutely intimidating and having Chat Noir being so confident next to her helped her not get flustered. "I mean, yeah, down the road, I wouldn't be surprised if I get nightmares about fighting all the time and need to get help with that, but- well, I don't think I'd be able to, not unless I sign up as Chat Noir instead of my civilian self. And I don't know if I would necessarily want to do that, in case too much civilian stuff comes out."
Ladybug winced. Yeah, that was a real concern. And- well, she didn't ever admit it to anyone other than Tikki, but she sometimes had nightmares about the fights, too. And Chat Noir was right- a therapist could probably help.
But the identity concerns...
It was more than likely that some personal information would come out if they were talking to any sort of therapist, and that was dangerous. Maybe the chance of their therapists stumbling on their identities was low, but she still couldn't risk it.
Maybe they could go out of Paris to find someone, using the Horse to jump. Then their therapist would be even less likely to make the connection between Ladybug and Marinette, and with the distance from Paris, having the superheroes in their office might be less exciting than it would be for someone who saw the superheroes on a daily basis. But even that wouldn't really be a possibility until Hawkmoth was gone, when they actually got some semblance of free time back.
"I can't deny that the money could be helpful, though," Chat Noir added after a moment. "I mean, depending on how long the conflict drags on, or if we need anything that Tikki and Plagg can't provide to help us, or- well, when I get old enough to move out of my father's place, I want to. There's way too many people who think that they can just barge into my room without warning and poke around, and- well, it's not safe."
Ladybug glanced over at her partner again. He looked like he was her age- in fact, they had shared enough information inadvertently that she was positive that they were probably a year apart at most- which meant that he was facing years of people disregarding his privacy and potentially discovering his secret. "That's ages away, though."
"I know. I can't do much about it right now, though, besides just paying attention to where I'm detransforming." Chat Noir sighed. "I guess the money can't really help with that, not right now."
"Yeah. And that's not great." Ladybug tapped a rhythm against her leg, trying to come up with a solution and finding none. She just didn't have enough information about the situation to find places where they could do something. "I mean, the most I can come up with is a camera that you could connect to and move around to see if anyone is in there before going back in. And you could see if anyone is coming around and poking around that you don't know about. But- well, the problem is that cameras can be hard to hide, and if your father finds out and decides to review footage..."
"It could backfire on me, really fast." Chat Noir glanced around, then back at her. "Yeah, I know. I guess- well, for now, I won't change anything. Maybe something will come up in the future."
"Yeah, I'm not going to be changing much either, I think. But it's nice to have that money there in case I need it." It made her feel a little weird, honestly- after over a year of volunteer superheroing, accepting money for that was just strange- but maybe eventually, it would sink in that she was doing a job and deserved pay for it.
Chat Noir nodded. "Just in case. And, well- if we don't use it, it'll be a good start for my retirement account!"
Ladybug laughed at that, the awkwardness and concerns that she had had earlier flying away in an instant. "Teenagers with retirement accounts. Who would have thought?"
"Well, you can never be too prepared, right?"
Ladybug giggled again, imaging the looks on her parents' places if she sat down for dinner and started asking questions about retirement accounts and for their advice in setting one up. Maybe it wouldn't be completely out of left field- after all, unlike most of her classmates, Marinette did earn money with commissions, and enough that she would not be spending it all- but it was also a strange thing for a teenager to ask about.
Well. At least it wasn't a bad problem to have.
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  A week later, Ladybug and Chat Noir officially received their first paychecks, with back payments pending. And by that time, the two of them had figured out where those payments were going.
Most of the money, of course, would be held in the kwami bank accounts until it could be trickled into their civilian bank accounts. How much, exactly, could be deposited without being noticed was still being decided- Ladybug could definitely get away with more than Chat Noir, though she figured that varying amounts and not at regular intervals would stick out less than regular payments. They were still trying to figure out how they might get retirement accounts going- even as much as they joked, it wasn't exactly a bad idea.
And then part of the money would go to charity. It was just a nice thing to do, after all, and since they had spare money- well, it would just be a good idea to help out a little bit more. They didn't want to make too big of a deal out of their donations, since it was very possible that people would judge where they were donating, how much they were donating, how often they were making their donations, and how their donations did or didn't change over time. There would no doubt be people petitioning the superheroes to support their favorite charities, which- well, maybe it would be a good way to learn about new causes, but it sounded like more stress than it would be worth. Besides, Ladybug and Chat Noir were private citizens behind the mask, and they deserved to have some privacy about their finances.
All they needed to tell the public was that they were donating anonymously and wouldn't be disclosing the places or amounts for those reasons. It was a simple answer, and should satisfy most of the population. There would no doubt be a few naysayers- there almost always were a few people who just had to be difficult- but it was a reasonable answer.
Thankfully, the person who had interviewed Ladybug and Chat Noir about what they were going to do with their first paychecks- a kind man from a mid-sized newspaper, who had earned the spot of first interview entirely because he hadn't been pushy about asking- had thought that their reasoning was plenty sound. They were hardly going to be millionaires, and so expecting them to donate large amounts on a regular (and frequent) basis was completely ridiculous. Keeping things private- well, that meant that people who were out of touch wouldn't be moaning about donations that they were perceiving as too small.
Just because Ladybug and Chat Noir were famous didn't mean that they were rich.
Marinette hummed quietly to herself as she skimmed the article that the reporter they had talked to had written. While the interview itself had taken place several days prior, the article had just been released that morning to coincide with both their first payment and the start of the month. It was very nicely written, and framed their reasoning in an even more clear and articulate light than they had managed themselves. She didn't doubt that it would get noticed soon, and then the speculation about whether or not Ladybug and Chat Noir would donate some of their earnings would be put to rest for once and for all-
"Wait, Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't donating any of their salary? That's so unlike them!"
-or maybe not.
"I was surprised too, they just completely brushed me off when I suggested that they donate part of their salaries," Lila told her audience as they swept into the room as a- well, as a flock, really, that was the only way to describe it. "It's what I would do if I was a superhero, of course, so I thought that they would feel the same! It's such a let-down, I really thought that they were better than that..."
"I would say that maybe it's because they've donated so much of their time to the city already, but I know I heard something at some point about backpayments to cover their time from the start," Alya commented, her eyebrows furrowed. "So that's not really donated time anymore, is it?"
"Maybe they have bills to pay," Rose piped up, clearly ever-hopeful. "And they need to get caught up with that first, of course. That would make sense!"
Of course, Lila was shaking her head as she headed up to her seat, with the rest of the group following not far behind to keep listening. "They're too young for bills. I met up with them again this morning and was trying to talk some sense into them because really, they could just do small donations, even a little bit helps- I would know, I've seen how far money can stretch and help in a charity! But even now that they have the money in their hands, they just want to keep it."
There were murmurs of disappointment all around the group gathered around Lila at that. Even though donations clearly weren't mandatory- well, they thought that the superheroes should be better role models than that! If they didn't have bills to pay, surely...
"And it's not like they're not getting enough to have both spending money and do a little charity," Lila said, shaking her head sadly. "Plenty of spending money, even! And I pointed that out, but they got really upset with me. I'd hate for our friendship to be destroyed over this really, but it's just- I feel like I don't know them at all now!"
Frankly, Marinette had heard enough. She wasn't going to let her reputation as Ladybug- or Chat Noir's reputation- get slandered by Lila's nonsense.
"Funny thing," Marinette commented in the most deadpan, disinterested voice that she could muster, not even taking her eyes off of her tablet as she talked. "You say that you met up with the superheroes this morning and they weren't interested in doing donations, and yet there's an article in La Trib this morning about an interview they did with the superheroes days ago that say otherwise. It says that donating was in their plan from the start."
The group in the back of the room went quiet.
"Marinette is correct," Markov commented after a moment, breaking the silence. "The article was posted one hour ago, though the paper copy presumably went out earlier. The superheroes stated that they have been looking at charities since they first heard that they might be getting money for their superhero work, as they wish to continue to help Paris. Their donations will be anonymous and private to protect their privacy and to prevent unwanted commentary on their choices."
Marinette glanced back. All eyes were slowly turning from Markov to Lila.
"There is also a video of the interview linked on the online version of the article," Markov added. "And the metadata confirms that it was filmed several days ago."
Several of the eyes pointed towards Lila were getting narrowed and suspicious.
"Oh, that- that's lovely!" Lila exclaimed, somewhat belatedly pressing her hand over her heart. "Maybe they were just trying to wind me up to tease me, then! And I misread the situation and took them seriously. Or they were trying to give me a pleasant surprise! It happens, sometimes- I'm not always great at catching sarcasm-"
This time, not everyone looked entirely convinced.
Smiling to herself, Marinette looked back at her tablet, closing out of the article and opening up their reading for Literature so that she could review it- or, well, finish reading it, because an akuma had interrupted her the previous night and it had been too late to pick it up again once the fight was over. If she hurried, she might be able to finish it before Ms. Bustier called for a start to class, and then she wouldn't get in trouble again for not doing her homework.
Honestly, if Lila's track record was anything to go by, she would probably wriggle her way out of the lie by the afternoon and the whole incident would be forgotten. But maybe this time would end up different- after all, Marinette had never seen that doubt before- and Lila's tower of lies would finally come toppling down. It was long overdue, really, but Marinette wasn't going to hold her breath.
If it happened...well, if their superhero salary was like a surprise cake, then a Lila downfall would be the cherry on top.
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hollandfromhell · 7 months ago
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Absquatulate
absquatulate - to leave without saying goodbye
Ask: Hello could you please write an BellamyxReader imagine using 7,12,13 maybe the beginning of season 5 (Becho)? 🥰
Word count: 1931
Any big gaps are time skips btw.
requests: open
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The Ring was supposed to be their safe place, somewhere that protected them from the radiation that took over Earth and from the people that wanted them dead. But for her, it was a prison, her own personal hell that consisted of her ex-whatever and his new lover. She hated how he still controlled her mind, how his smile made her feel high, how the slightest touch lit up her insides. That’s how she ended up by herself, hiding out in the part of the Ring nobody went to.
She knows they compare her to Murphy, who somehow became her only friend, knows they worry about her, she worries about herself too. She’ll go days without food to make sure she doesn’t see the PDA that causes her heart to ache. Not just Bellamy and Echo, all the couples on the Ring. She missed that, she wanted to feel loved again.
Her self destructive thoughts are cut short by the sight of Murphy walking up to her, a new bruise adorning his face. He still manages to smile at her as he sits across from where she currently resides.
“You’ve been more distant than usual.” He actually sounds sincere for once, using the tone of voice that was usually saved for Emori. His eyes are pleading for her to talk to him, even if they hated each other in the past and he almost killed her a few times, they overcame that, they practically became each other’s therapists.
She ignores his comment, “What happened to your face?” but she already knows the answer. She knew Murphy liked to try and fight whoever brought them food or supplies, a game he plays at his own expense.
“Bellamy,” is all he says, watching her face scrunch up at the name. She nods slightly, looking back down at her hands, wanting badly to pick at the scabs forming over her open wounds from sparring with Murphy. “I think they’re trying to find a way back to Earth.” His uneasy look alerts her.
“Aren’t they always?” She wished they would just except that they’re doomed, they’re never going to get off the Ring, not that she even wanted to leave if she could. She felt better up here, away from the grounders, away from the radiation that threatened her life. When they stepped foot onto the Ring it was a breath of fresh air.
“Raven is planning to dock on a new ship, have them take us in.” His explanation is short and lacked details that she would have needed if she cared like she used to. He eyes her, her somber expression bringing his mood down, “Would you come?” He knew the answer.
She shakes her head. She has nothing down there; she was an orphan and the two people she cared about were gone. She didn’t know if Octavia survived, she used to look down on Earth and pray the girl she thought of like a sister was okay, alive and breathing. Bellamy, well he was a lost cause to her. He wouldn’t even spare her a glance anymore.
Murphy inhales sharply, going to stand, done with this depressing conversation. “They have a spot for you if you change your mind.” He sounds sure, like he was making a promise or pleading for her to come with them.
“Dead weight,” and with that their talk was over.
Her eyes flash open, the feeling of somebody shaking her erratically startling her. She expected Murphy to be waking her, maybe she was late for one of their sparring matches again. But the person she sees makes her blood run cold, Bellamy. His eyes are worrisome, his actions rushed. “Get up.” His voice commands.
She rolls her eyes, turning back the other way, not wanting to deal with his bullshit today. This happened periodically, he would come into her room and try to bring her back to the group. He’ll lecture her about how being isolated is bad for her and the others that care about her, and she’ll ignore him like always. He’ll leave and try again later.
“This isn’t a joke, Y/N. We’re going back to Earth, now get up.” He pushes her side, throwing her off the makeshift bed completely. She’s irritated, he can tell that, the people on the other side of the Ring can probably tell. She pushes herself off the floor, standing up and walking towards him with her anger on full display.
“Don’t touch me.” She’s seething when she falls back onto her bed. What gives him the right? They’re quiet for a minute, Bellamy still standing next to her. “I’m not going.”
His breath catches in his throat, “Yes you are,” it’s as if he made the decision for her. He wasn’t losing any more people; he wasn’t losing her. Even if they aren’t what they used to be, he cared for her more than he liked to admit. She was going, even if he has to carry her out of the damn space ship.
“No, I’m not.” Her mind was made up, she had thought of this conversation before, how she would tell him, how he would react. She hoped he would just let her go, let her have her peace after so long of fighting. But of course, that was too good to be true. “Why do you even care?”
The question hits him hard, his mind reels, wonders how she could possibly think he doesn’t care about her. After everything they went through, the drop ship, the grounders, Arkadia, Polis, Praimfaya, now here on the Ring. They were together through everything, she was the person he went to when Octavia got captured, the one he confided in, she knows everything about him.
Her next question is what really sets him off, “Do you even still love me?” His face turns to stone as his chest starts to burn, the burn he thought would be gone by now. He has Echo, he loves Echo. But Y/N, her eyes are drawing him in, her body like a magnet, pulling, pulling, pulling him into her orbit. The feelings he’s pushed away for so long hit him like a ton of bricks, if he doesn’t leave right now, he’ll do something he regrets.
So that’s exactly what he does, he leaves, only turning around for a second to tell her, “We leave in 22 hours, be there.”
She was such a fucking idiot, what was she thinking, of course he doesn’t love her, their relationship had been over for years, he found someone new.
Her heart is racing as she enters the main room, she scans the group of people that occupy the space around her, seeing the people she used to be so close with. Murphy had convinced her to join him, to at least listen to the plan and then decide her fate. Raven is talking quickly, words that would never make sense to Y/N, she wasn’t an engineer or mechanic or scientist, or whatever Raven is now.
Relief washes over Bellamy as he sees her, a relief that he chalks to her being his friend, he would feel this way about anybody from the Ark. She was coming, she was going back to Earth with them. But that relief is short lived.
Raven finishes explaining the plan, she did her best at dumbing it down for those who wouldn’t understand the scientific terms she used. She starts to go over how they’re all going to fit and how oxygen will be divided before she hears the words that she dreads. “I’m staying here.”
The group automatically goes into savior mode, “You’ll die,” is thrown at Y/N a few times, there’s even a few, “No you’re nots”, thrown in, as if they could decide for her. But she knows what she wants.
“I have my reasons, just like you guys do. There’s nothing down there for me.” As much as she hates it, she looks into one person’s eyes while she says it. She doesn’t like this confrontation, doesn’t like her emotions being fully on display. But then again, she’ll be dead in 16 hours, so why not. Her eyes are downcast as she leaves the room, her hands shaking from where they’re balled into fists, she doesn’t expect someone to follow her.
“I’m not letting you stay here. You hear me? You can’t do this to us.” Raven says loudly from where she is behind her, following as quickly as she can. Once she reaches Y/N she grabs her shoulder, pulling her to stop and forcing Y/N to look at her. “What will Octavia think?”
“Octavia’s dead.” Y/N’s voice is full of hurt, her eyes already holding back tears at the thought of her best friend. “She’s dead, I have nobody.” Raven’s protests are quick, the brunette girls heart thumping quickly as she tries to save Y/N’s life. “Please Raven.” The protests stop at the pitiful words.
“You have us, I’m here for you. They all care about you. And you don’t know if Octavia’s dead, she could be down there waiting for you.” Raven words are hopeful, and Y/N wished she could believe them. “What about Bellamy?”
Y/N’s head snaps up, her tear-soaked face looking horrified, “What about him? We broke up Raven, he has Echo. He’s probably happy that he doesn’t have to see me anymore.” Her face falls again and her knees start to give out. Her back hits the wall when she falls, her head leaned back, tears escaping. “I’m falling apart, and he doesn’t even care.” When did she become so pathetic, it’s been years and she’s still stuck on him.
After her conversation with Raven, she decided staying in her room until they leave is the best bet, she could die here, she would die here. It scares her, not death but the fact that her impending doom is right around the corner and she doesn’t care, it doesn’t even faze her. And that sends her into overdrive. She hurriedly grabs her bag, the one Murphy had forced her to pack in case she changed her mind. She practically flies out of the room, running through the corridors as she makes her way to the launch point.
Raven’s eyes are full of comfort as she see the girl enter the room, stopping Emori from closing the door as a smile forms on her face. “We have company.”
Y/N quickly gets dressed in her designated space gear, hooking up her oxygen as fast as she can, she would hate to slow them down. She climbs the makeshift latter into the shuttle their using and smiles as Raven grabs her hand, a thank you.
Bellamy is the first one to move, grabbing Y/N into his arms, he can’t hold back the sigh of relief as she hugs him back. He doesn’t care who’s watching, although he’s dreading the damage control he’ll have to do with Echo later, if they survive this. Her laugh is music to his ears, his heart practically singing as he holds her tight, “I thought I lost you.”
Her head moves up to look at him, a smile stretched across her face, “You think I’d let you guys off the hook that easily.”
Authors note: Being completely honest I hate the ending of this one, it felt rushed and I might rewrite it in the future. Anyways, I hope you liked it Anon! And anyone else reading this. I appreciate the requests more than you’ll ever know! Feedback (good or bad) is always welcome and appreciated!
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justanotherblonde23 · 8 months ago
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Let Me Help You - A Frankie Morales Story
Author’s Note: Hey, hey, guys, gals, and non binary pals! I was originally going to post this tomorrow morning, but I lack patience and I want to share with all of you! This takes place in the same universe as It All Piles Up, but you don’t need to have read that one to understand this one. I didn’t do a Writer Wednesday this week because I am a very exhausted little b, but I wanted to give you all something to enjoy this week. Next week, school starts for my short summer semester and I have to start looking for a job in earnest, so wish a lady some luck. All the big adult stuff hitting me all at once, ya know? Let me know what you think, this is definitely a lovely smutty piece for all you smutsters out there. Trust me when I say I’m one too haha. Thank you to every single person who takes the time to read, like, reblog, and comment on my stories. It’s just crazy to me that I get to share my little stories with all of you. I couldn’t be more thankful for the wonderful people in this community if I tried.
Warnings: contains mentions of drugs, PTSD, oral (M recieving), P in V sex, cockwarming, language because I’m a Bostonian who just won’t quit. THIS IS AN 18+ WORK OF FICTION IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY BLOG - I SAY THAT AS NICELY AS I POSSIBLY CAN
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     You knew the signs of Frankie’s PTSD; you’d been together long enough to spot the signs, especially the ones that show up in the middle of the night. Of course, you had your own trauma to contend with from your time in the Army, but it wasn’t like your husband’s. The things he had seen, the things he had done, had sent him on a spiraling path where cocaine had been the answer to his pain. But, of course, the drugs had only dulled the pain for so long until he needed more and more just to chase his demons away. And then he had gotten busted during a routine drug test and had his pilot’s license pulled.
    That had been his rock bottom, the place where he stopped and realized all the havoc he was subjecting himself and those he loved too. Thankfully, he took that as a sign to get clean, to be better, to do better for you and the baby. He wanted to be the best father he could to little Estella. He was busting his ass in therapy and NA and working at whatever piloting jobs he could get since his license was reinstated. But, unfortunately, all that hard work doesn’t erase the damage that had already been done. 
    You knew that something had happened during his last mission with Santi and the guys. Tom had wound up dead, and the rest of the guys were pretty damn empty by the time they came home. Frankie hadn’t told you the whole story, wanting to spare you the pain of the weight he had to carry. So you ended up at Santi’s house at three in the morning after a particularly bad night, demanding that he tell you everything, that he owed it to you to tell you everything. You argued that you couldn’t properly take care of the man you loved unless you knew exactly what was going on.
    Pope caved; of course, he did. He couldn’t ever fight you for long. You had served with the boys, and that led to a certain sense of loyalty and trust. That night, he told you everything. You heard how Tom died, what they had gone to South America for in the first place, and all the blood they had on their hands. Throughout the story, you had kept quiet, simply listening to what your friend had to say. You knew the story would be bad, but what he told you exceeded your expectations. Now you knew why the man you loved would wake up screaming and crying in the night; now you knew his demons. 
    The next time he woke up in the night, you kept sleeping. It had been a rough day, the baby was sick, and you had been running around from the doctor’s to the pharmacy multiple times in the past 48 hours. You were drained. Typically, you slept pretty lightly, but the second you hit the pillow, you were out like a light. You finally were startled awake to Frankie getting out of bed and going to Estella’s room. You hadn’t even heard her crying over the baby monitor. 
    A plan formed in your mind as you listened to your sweet husband croon the same songs that his mother sang to him when he was a child. Frankie was always helping you, always taking care of both you and your little baby girl; it was time for you to do something for him. He needed to relax to be able to sleep again. There were at least six good hours left in the night, and Frankie was off the next day. He needed to be spoiled, and you knew just how to do it. You knew that it would take him another ten minutes or so to get the sick baby down again, so that gave you time to enact your plan. 
    You changed into a little lacy nightie, Frankie’s favorite. He loved how it gave him just a taste of what was under it, a glimpse, a tease if you will. Then you grabbed your massage oils and your oil heater, placing them on the nightstand. You waited, listening to the baby monitor until he fell silent. After the baby fell asleep, it wasn’t uncommon for your love to just watch Estella, for a while, marveling over the beautiful little being that you had created together. It was sweet, his love for your little girl knew no bounds, and it made your love for him grow daily. 
    You padded quietly to the nursery, popping your head in to take a look at your love and your baby. You had been right; Frankie was standing over the crib with a soft smile on his face, gazing at the tiny being that you two had made together. Four months in, and you both were still in awe of her every movement, sound, and everything in between. Finally, you silently made your way to your husband, winding your arms around his soft tummy that you loved so much, looking up at him with love and adoration in your eyes. 
    “Francisco, baby, let’s go to bed,” you murmured. 
    His attention was still on the baby, stars in his eyes at the way he looked at her. “Okay, just a few more minutes.” 
    You hated to pull him away, but you needed to enact your plan while you still had time. Knowing him, a few more minutes could mean the next hour if it meant gazing at your sweet baby. If you were being honest, you were exactly the same. 
    “Francisco,” you said a little more forcefully this time, pulling his attention towards you.
    Frankie’s eyes went wide when he saw you, taking in the way your body looked in that sexy little number he loved so much. Then, he grabbed you by the arm, practically dragging you into your bedroom. 
    Before you could even blink, his lips were on you, devouring you like a man starved. It was intense, bruising, but you would want it no other way. The passion between you and Frankie was always so intense. It had been a while since you had time to yourselves, the baby keeping you busy. God, you had missed this, the feeling of his mustache tickling your lip, the dominance he carried into the kiss making your heart beat faster. You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, stopping him when he dove back in for another kiss. 
    “Francisco, baby, take your clothes off, let me take care of you,’ you practically purred. 
    He didn’t need to be told twice; his shirt and boxers were off in a heartbeat, his cock standing proud against the slight softness of his tummy. Just looking at him like this made your core drip with need for your husband, but you needed to take care of him first. 
    “Go lie face down on the bed, baby; I’m gonna give you a massage.” 
    You gestured to the oils on the nightstand. He had been the recipient of one of your massages before, and damn were they heavenly. He didn’t even question you, knowing that you had something planned for him. He was willing to go with the flow. Once Frankie settled down on his stomach, you settled yourself down on the small of his back, a warm vial of massage oil in your hand. Your husband groaned at the feeling of your warm, dripping, bare cunt against his lower back. He had to have you at some point; no matter how good that massage would be, he had to be buried deep inside you sooner than later. 
    You poured some of the oil onto his upper back, focusing first on his shoulders and his neck. You knew he could get so tense when he was flying these days, and the tension always landed in that area. You could hear him moan in pleasure as you focused on releasing those points of tension one by one. Each moan from your husband left you wetter and wetter. Jesus Christ, he sounded so sinful. 
    You worked your way to his upper back and down his spine, working out all his knots and sore spots. You mentally thanked your college roommate for being a massage therapist and teaching you a few of her tricks. You knew every scar and blemish in his skin by heart, and you loved them all. Put them all together, and they helped make up the man you loved most. Finally, you finished his massage; you had been getting antsy. Finally, you leaned over, leaving little kisses down his back on every scar, letting him know that he was loved. 
    You barely had time to crawl off of him before he flipped over, grabbing you and pulling you into another kiss. God, you could kiss him forever, and you would’ve, but you felt his erection pressing against your stomach. You had promised to take care of him, so it was time to give him some relief. 
    You straddled him again, kissing your way down his sternum and his tummy, down his happy trail to his weeping cock. You licked a broad stripe from his base to his tip, circling his head and lapping up his precum. The whine that came out of your husband was fucking hot, telling you without words that he needed you. You wouldn’t make him wait any longer, taking him in your mouth and fisting what you couldn’t fit. 
You knew he wouldn’t last long by the way he bucked up into your mouth. Neither of you had time for a release in a few weeks, and you were pushing all the right buttons. You kept at it for a few more minutes until you knew that he was ready. You took him all the way down your throat and swallowed around him. That was all it took to get him to practically wail your name and coat your throat with spurt after thick spurt of his cum. You worked him through his orgasm, taking everything he had to offer until he grabbed your hair, pulling you off of him. You grinned up at your love, sticking your tongue out to show him some of his spend before swallowing the salty substance down. 
“Oh fuck, baby, you are gonna be the goddamn death of me. You make me blow my load like that in your mouth, and I’m STILL ready to fuck you,” he panted.
You smirked; you knew you had done an excellent job. You pressed open-mouthed kisses on his hips and thighs, giving him time to recover and get ready for you again. You couldn’t resist little kitten licks to his cock, causing him to shudder underneath you. You licked and teased him until he was hard and dripping with precum once more. You loved his cock, girthy enough to stretch you out with a pleasant burn and long enough to consistently hit that devastating spot inside of you just right.
You crawled up his torso, cathing him in a searing kiss, exploring the depths of his mouth with your tongue. You kissed him for what seemed like forever, pouring all of your love, devotion, and care into him. Telling him without words how much you loved him, how much he meant to you. Then, finally, you sat up, guiding his hands to the hem of your nighty, prompting him to take it off. He let out a deep moan when your breasts bounced free. His hands were on you in an instant, pinching your sensitive nipples, rolling them gently between his fingers. 
You threw your head back at the sensation, mewling in delight to feel your husband’s hands on you after so long. He caressed every curve of your body with greedy fingers, muttering the entire time about how beautiful you were, how perfect you were for him. His hands found your ass, giving you a firm squeeze before moving you into position. You moaned as you sunk down on Frankie’s thick cock, the feeling absolutely divine. You were so wet that by the time he bottomed out inside you, you were dripping down your thighs. 
You stayed there like that for a while, adjusting to the feel of him inside of you. You listened as your husband murmured words of love about his “sexy little wife” and how he “loved you like no other”. Occasionally, you would lean down to kiss him, slowly, sensually; you weren’t in a rush. This was about you and Frankie and the love you shared between the two of you. It was intimate, private, and special. There was no one else like Francisco Morales in this world, and you intended on making sure that he knew just that. 
Then, you began to move. It was more of a grind at first, taking him as deep as he could go and then letting him stay warm inside of you for a moment. You didn’t want him to leave you, not even an inch. You reveled in the feeling of closeness, the sense of connection between the two of you. It didn’t take long for you to want more, though. You began to bounce on his cock, your breasts bouncing to the rhythm you set. Fuck, at this angle, he was hitting that spot inside you that turned you to putty. You could feel the heat in your belly building and building, threatening to overflow within you. 
Frankie moved one of his hands from your hip to your clit, rubbing hard, tight circles against it. He knew just what you needed to make you leap over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your arms felt like jelly as the pleasure coursed through your veins, and you collapsed against his chest, sobbing his name in ecstasy. Your husband planted his feet on the mattress, fucking up into you, prolonging your pleasure. 
Your walls were gripping him like a vice, not even allowing him to move out more than an inch or two before pulling him back in again. That was it for Frankie; unable to hold back any longer, he spilled himself into you. This orgasm was even more intense than the last, flooding him with pure pleasure. He couldn’t stop himself from declaring his love for you over and over as he came. 
You nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck and planted kisses on him wherever you could reach. Your walls fluttered around him in the aftershocks. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to lose the feeling of being connected every single way possible, and you told him as much. You both drifted off, agreeing that you would get cleaned up the next time the baby woke up in the night. You both felt so loved, so cherished in the moment. Your Francisco was everything that you wanted in a partner; you thought as you drifted off to sleep. But, little did you know, Frankie was thinking the exact same thing about you.
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