Tumgik
#or am I thinking too highly of myself in a desperate attempt to feel like I've done something
Note
I am currently trying very very hard to be good and do my grad school work diligently. But then you posted and my willpower disintegrated.
He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Rhys didn’t knock, he never did. Privacy hadn’t been much of a concept when they were young.
I love these little behaviors they keep and how... lived in? it makes them and the world feel. They've adapted to each new cultural norm to some extent, but some things from how they grew up stay with them. And there's also something about Rhys having this little quirk and Arthur remembering why he does that feels... I think intimate is the word I want? There are literally a handful of people on earth who'd even remember the era Rhys grew up in, and even fewer who went through it with him and would be able to connect those norms to his present behavior. IDK - point being I liked those lines a lot.
The world had long been spinning with Alfred as the axis, but a glance left, beyond him to Matthew and she let decades collapse and he suddenly had both of them in arm.
He squeezes them. Jack is so tall, warm and bundled into a sweater and unusually solemn. He’s too bloody big to hold properly but Arthur tries anyway, suddenly desperate for the certainty of the physical. But Zee he could still hold, if only barely. It was awkward, how long he held on. He didn’t want to let go. Three children in his sight, two in his arms. Three. That'd been normal once. No longer. Zee hugged him harder than she normally did, usually giving one quick and then slipping away. She knew what was in that box.
I can't quite wrap my head around what I want to say about this scene, but I will attempt.
The world's been spinning around Alfred because of actual geopolitical stuff. The British Empire collapsed and America became the center of the Anglophone world. That's a level that they as personifications operate on - politics does inform who they have relationships with and how those work. Jack and Zee aren't just more distant with Arthur and Matt because of all the messed up interpersonal stuff, but because politically Alfred is more relevant to their lives.
But that level isn't actually relevant here - whatever's going on with Alfred, it's not changing the way the world works. So this thing where they're reverting back to how it was as kids, with Arthur being dad and being able to hug them, that's purely on the emotional side. They're upset about Alfred going missing and they're falling back to the earlier dynamic, not because they've gone back to the geopolitical reality that created it, but purely because of emotions.
It's... I highly doubt I've managed to get a point across here, but it's a lot. Something about them being people with free will and individual emotions independent of what they represent, and also them being people who worry about each other and fall into old patterns when they're stressed even though the origins are fucked up and they're all fucked up too.
He jolted, seeing his second son, tall and sharp where his mother had been— His fist went down by his side. “There was some evidence—” He couldn’t quite say it.
Arthur is NOT having a good time lately. First they dig his corpse from the axe incident up, then mom appears when he's not ready for her, then it turns out Alfred's missing. And it's all connected. No wonder he's drinking so much, it's like someone sat down with the intention of crafting a scenario that would cause him as much emotional distress as possible. (Not that I'm accusing you or anything... XD) Also, I'M SO EXCITED THAT I CALLED THE AXE! I realized as I was reading that the title was definitely a clue, but whatever, I'm giving myself credit. I CALLED IT! And now I am bouncing off the walls waiting to figure out how Alfred's going to be relevant to this incredibly traumatic event in his father's history.
“He finally let them open up the back garden for a testpit hoping they’d find some old knickknacks and they found two corpses. And one’s him.” Rhys said.
Love that Arthur let the archaeologists in because he was hoping they'd do all the work to find some of his old stuff
Also love Rhys just casually explaining that this dig found two corpses and one belongs to the guy standing right there. I know their lives are weird, but that one's so weird that the casualness tips into absurdity.
Zee said more, arching her hand over his spine. He couldn't hear her words but he remembered that blow.
The description is, as ever, absolutely fantastic. I could really feel Arthur's stress and how he was getting lost in the trauma in that moment.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Arthur’s head turned sharply. Matthew was suddenly there, from nowehere. At his sister’s elbow, opposite Rhys. He’d put himself where he always been once upon a time. Between his father and his siblings. Mortar between the bricks.
Again, just... them reverting back to these dynamics is killing me. It wasn't a good thing that their "family" existed, and it sure as hell wasn't healthy (probably still isn't), but there's something about the way the world got knocked off its axis and they all fell back into it. In some ways it's sweet (because there is genuine, if very complex and uncomfortable affection) and in other ways it's unnerving because it's caused by Alfred's disappearance. They're all working together, in this fucked-up-but-very-effective unit, but there's also the constant reminder that it doesn't (shouldn't) work like this anymore and they're doing this because something's gone very wrong.
His hand went to his back and he conceded to gravity, falling into a chair. “I’ve dug up the back garden at thousand times since ten-eighty-something. My corpse hasn’t been rotting under the bloody tudor rose for a thousand years. Your brother slid out of reality and whatever that is,” He pointed to the bones. “Slid into it.”
I am absolutely hooked on this story for so many reasons. I want to know why they got swapped, I want to know why there was some kind of time delay where the bones arrived before Alfred got yeeted, I want to know how Alfred connects to that very specific trauma of Arthur's, and I am so fucking excited to see all of it play out with the Anglos trying to deal with not only an emotional situation, but an emotional situation where Arthur is one of the most affected. (And I'm desperately curious to know how Alfred fared after attempting to trade a NASA patch for a ride to the Ren fair... to a bunch of actual medieval warriors.)
This is fic is absolutely amazing and I am so glad you're continuing it, I love it so much!
THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH 😭 new chapter soon I always feel rotten for answering late without having another one but 💚💚💚 thank you.
10 notes · View notes
ficfanatictrf · 1 year
Text
Ricky Montgomery - Line Without a Hook
youtube
After listening to his other songs (again) and now having extreme brain rot again for this song (...again)
I wanted to post a little something about this song.
When playing this song, I am not thinking of a person that I am 'a wreck without' but my own sense of self, my own heart, my individuality.
Triggers below: Reference to many trigging things. Self-harm, abuse, ect.
The last SERIOUS relationship I was in, was literally 10 years ago. And I gave EVERYTHING of myself to this relationship. - Physical Health (anorexia, compulsive exercise [sometimes I would find myself unable to sleep, so I would do P90X and Insanity work outs to try and wear myself down to get to sleep....after a full day of military work and PT training...], cutting, and burning) - Mental Health (Depression and anxiety skyrocketed, I was pressured into get as close to sex as possible without actually having sex [hand jobs, thigh jobs, make outs in the shower while he rubbed one out, had him go down on me...which hurt and was terrifying for me), suicide attempt, was starting to hallucinate. I broke my morals (he was married and with a 2 year old son....and being the naïve idiot I was at the time, I believed him when he convinced me that because we 'weren't having penetrative sex that it wasn't cheating' - had a whole break down about this afterword) - My military career (I left as soon as I could - even when I had no idea what I wanted to do at the time) - My family (it nearly broke my family relationship with me. It took me YEARS and multiple therapists before I could talk to them about everything that happened when I was away. How it affected me.) - My friendships (I don't talk to anyone, except one person, that knew me before I was 18)
--------
I end this just to say that this song matters a great deal to me.
I don't really give a damn about the way you touch me When we're alone You can hold my hand If no one's home The whole cheating aspect of our relationship. Because in the military you can be dishonorably discharged if they catch you cheating, our relationship was hidden.
Do you like it when I'm away? If I went and hurt my body, baby Would you love me the same? I started, keyword started, self-harming as a desperate attempt to keep his attention. He only really seemed to care when he could be 'the hero'. So I started it when he started pulling away....to then later find out that I couldn't stop for a very long time.
I can feel all my bones coming back And I'm craving motion The fact that I started feeling like I could do things again. Looking back I think it took me nearly 2-3 years to start having a desire to do anything. Mama never really learns how to live by herself It's a curse And it's growing You're a pond and I'm an ocean A feeling I have a lot. Later finding out from a therapist that I am a 'Highly Sensitive Person' as well as a person with ADHD, Misophonia, ect. Constantly it felt like I was feeling an ocean's worth of emotions compared to someone else who was feeling a pond's worth.
Oh, all my emotions Feel like explosions when you are around And I've found a way to kill the sounds, oh Honestly, for years I drowned out all thoughts and feelings about that time. Using anything to keep that time period out of my mind.
Oh, baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you I need you here to stay I broke all my bones that day I found you Crying at the lake Was it something I said to make you feel like you're a burden? Oh, and if I could take it all back I swear that I would pull you from the tide Spoken directly to my heart. I am a wreck when I give my heart away and I am a wreck when I am without it. And from now on, it will stay with me. And that I apologize to myself for insulting my heart. For calling it too sensitive, a cry baby, ect. That I apologize for calling myself 'weak' for having emotions for years after the relationship.
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa I said no (I said no), I said no (I said no) Listen close, it's a no The wind is a-pounding on my back And I found hope in a heart attack Oh at last, it is past Now I've got it, and you can't have it Pretty clear. No, I will not give my heart away anytime soon. No matter how much the wind (society) pressures me to 'find the one', to go out and date.
Darling, when I'm fast asleep I've seen this person watching me Saying, "Is it worth it? Is it worth it? Tell me, is it worth it?" Oh Honestly, something I still wrestle with. Is it worth it going through the dating and break-ups in the hopes of finding love? Guess there is something, and there is nothing There is nothing in between And in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer Watching over me, he's singing "She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a boy" He's singing, "She's a, she's a lady, and I am just a line without a hook" A horrible way to think of it...but it how I sometimes see it. That the relationship broke my line, that now I am just a line without a hook. That because a key part of me broke during that time- I can't 'catch' love anymore.
1 note · View note
roseandreason · 2 years
Text
Its the big one….Birth (part 1)
Im going to do this as a two parter, mainly because I don’t want to miss anything out but also because I don’t get a huge amount of time to write things like this anymore! Ill try not to keep you waiting too long for part two!
6 weeks ago I had a baby…..and everyone wants to know, how was the birth, so here I am….to tell all, buckle in, grab a coffee and a snack, I highly recommend jelly babies or a squares bar, these turned out to be my labour snacks of choice.
My main reason for writing this blog post is one, because I hope it helps others, the same as all my posts but two because I had a truly wonderful birth experience…I hear you gasp….a positive birth story?! Yes it was wonderful and I know these are rarely heard amongst the horror stories out there that can be really scary to hear!
So here we go, but where to start?!
I guess we will start right at the beginning (no not conception, we are all adults here and know where babies come from) my maternity leave, I went on maternity leave when I was roughly 36 weeks pregnant, which for a lot of people sounds early, but it was really important to me to really have time to relax at home and prepare for our baby girl to arrive both mentally and physically, I don’t think there was any better way to do that than being at home, mainly cross-stitching and binge watching multiple series! I suffered with severe pelvic pain and hyperemesis (sickness and nausea) in my pregnancy amongst other symptoms including feet that looked more like water balloons, it was not the glowing pregnancy so often advertised (and yet I absolutely loved it) so those few weeks were amazing to be at home in my own space and if you can I fully recommend anyone planning maternity to do the same, I think too many people work right the way up to their due date at work and work themselves too hard! You’re about to have a huge shift in your life, those weeks to myself were golden and I’m so glad I took that time to myself and Titch when he had days off. 
In that time I also practiced all the tools in my hypnobirthing course me and Titch did, it was the best money I have ever spent and the tools I learnt 100% contributed to why I had such an amazing birth experience, more on that later!
Fast forward to my due date, I had tried to not put too much focus on my due date or tell many people when it was. Babies in general but specifically 1st babies very rarely arrive on their due date, I think only around 4%! (I was actually born on my due date, but if you know me thats the most me thing to do, always on time as expected!)
 70% of first babies are born between 40 and 42 weeks so I knew there was a high chance I would go ‘overdue’ 
I won’t pretend however that towards my due date and after I didn’t start to feel impatient. I was lucky enough to share my pregnancy journey with one of my best friends, she had her baby boy at 39 weeks, then all our friends on our antinaetal class also went on to have their babies, so it did feel like everyone was waiting for our little lady to arrive, and we were so desperate to meet her! 
At 41 weeks +1 (Monday) I went to the midwife for them to attempt a ‘sweep’. This is something I initially wasnt going to have as they are not proven to help start labour but I later changed my mind hoping that I might at least know where my body was at in the process. Long story short the midwife said that on their scoring system I was the lowest possible score (ouch!) my body and cervix were completely uninterested in gong into labour and an induction was most likely how our birth was going to go. I went home and cried, I was so desperate for my body start a spontaneous labour and I really didn’t want to be induced, so I had a good cry (full on disney princess style sprawled on the bed), I was so dissapointed! 
The following day (Tuesday) I felt completely different (when does a good cry not make you feel better!) I had accepted that my body just wasn’t ready, and that was ok, as long as our baby girl arrived safely, I called the hospital and accepted an induction and it was booked for the Friday. I knew within a few more days, we would have our family.
We had to take our car in for a recall Job that day, and due to it being possible for me to go into labour at any point they gave us a courtesy car until ours was ready, we transferred the baby car seat, my hospital notes and birth plan into this car…(this is an important detail, you’ll find out later why) me and Titch both laughed to the receptionist saying well what are the chances of it happening today….unknown to us both…my body and Olive had very different plans 
That evening me and Titch were having our dinner in the garden and I said to him ‘I just don’t feel right’ I had a little back pain and some cramp like feelings but due to being told what I had the day before I did not even think for a second these could be labour symptoms, so I went upstairs and said I was going to have a nice long bath and an early night…again my body had a very different evening planned for us both.
At just before half past 8 I got out of the bath with freshly washed hair and put on fresh pjs (no better feeling) I took a photo of me and bump (shown below and the last photo I have of my bump) went downstairs and boom, at the bottom of our stairs my waters went, I looked up at Titch who was following me down the stairs and said ‘either I just wet myself or my waters have just gone……Nope it won’t stop….its my waters’ 
 I was so excited and I had always wanted my movie moment of my waters breaking but its not as common as people think, so I was buzzing! Let me tell you what they don’t in movies…it does not stop, there was so much water I couldnt beleive it!! It was such a surreal moment and I remember me and Titch just staring at each other for brief second and then both of us absolutely beaming and smiling and hugging each other so tight, it was happening, our baby girl was on her way.
When your waters break you need to call the hospital to let them know as they like to make sure you have given birth within 24hrs of them breaking to prevent infection, so I asked Titch to grab the hospital notes with the wards number on…..remember earlier I said about putting our hospital notes in the courtesy car, yeah we forgot to take them back, they were locked in a car on a forecourt in Wymondham….ooops! It would have been too easy to panic but instead we just laughed and Titch said well we can’t have been the first and we won’t be the last! We spoke to an incredible Midwife on the phone who told me to try and get some rest before my contractions started (lol) and to keep them updated on my progress.
My contractions or surges as we called them as part of our Hypnobirthing course, started at 9pm so only half an hour after my waters broke and there you have it, the start of our labour story, and I fully believe that it happened that day because I was the most relaxed I had been, I had accepted she wasn’t coming until the Friday and that was ok, I had also spent the entire day bouncing on my pregnancy ball, must have done something! So when people ask ‘how do I start labour, what did you do’ I truly believe there is nothing you can do, your body will do what it wants when it wants and when it feels ready!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Baby Olive…..she was on her way XXX
0 notes
hanaasbananas · 3 years
Text
Sometimes you just gotta go and read the comments people have left on your fics so you can feel like you aren't completely useless
13 notes · View notes
buckyhoney-library · 3 years
Text
𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲, 𝐛.𝐛
a/n: i had to turn this into a whole ass blurb/one shot, this is different than anything that i've written in the past.
reblogs/likes/feedback is greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! However, do NOT steal/repost ANY of my fics!
18+ warning
Warnings: 18+, no plot- just porn, dubcon, age gap (early/mid 20's), stepdad!bucky, dom!bucky, sub!reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, innocent kink, corruption kink, breeding kink, fingering, oral (f), masturbation (f), sorry for any missed typos!
Word Count: 2.2k
Tumblr media
Chills spread over the surface of your body- his fingers trace along the tops of your shoulder and up your neck- stopping at your jaw. The sound of his breathing is the only thing you can hear. His clothed chest presses against your back- his crotch flush with your ass.
Having another body so close and pressed against you is foreign.
Nerves bundle in your stomach as his fingers slide up the sides of your waist, stopping right before your breast- cupping them through the thin fabric of your tank top. Your sensitive nipples pebble and poke through the tank top.
A surprised gasp falls from your lips, he chuckles into your ear.
That tank top is what landed you here with your breasts being groped and messaged. Bucky had gotten fed up with you wandering around the house with tiny clothing that barely covers your most intimate areas.
With the innocence of what such clothing does to a man, you thought nothing of it- as it’s been warmer outside, and you needed to cool off.
“Daddy…” Breathlessly whining, your core began to tingle- something that has been happening more often.
Humming, Bucky moves the strands of floral-smelling hair to the side- exposing your neck. Pressing soft pecks along the base of your neck, he trails up to the bottom of your ear.
“Honey, have you ever played with your special place?” Your shoulders tense.
The rough callused palm roamed over your tummy, stopping at the band of the muted pink pajama shorts.
Bucky knew the answer. He heard the soft muffled moans and whimpers that come from your bedroom. This sparked curiosity.
Through the crack of the door, Bucky witnessed the sinful act of your hips rolling on your stuffies.
Accidently grinding against one of your bear’s nose in the middle of the night was the act that started the exploration of your body. You knew that what you were doing wasn’t allowed- but the feeling you got when you grind your clit into the face of the teddy was unlike anything you’ve experienced before.
The first orgasm you had took you by surprise, drenching your favorite teddy in your juices.
From that night forward, your fingers exploded the sensitive bud and the aching hole.
When your fingers weren’t enough, you teased your needy clit with the hard nose of your teddy. The simulation became addicting and masturbating with your teddy became a daily occurrence.
Tweaking your nipples and toying your clit are acts that you knew would get you in a world of trouble- if you caught by your mother. So, you kept the touching and teasing for when she went to work- but you had no idea that this whole time you had an audience for your private sessions.
Breasts swaying, nipples barely grazing the sheets, and the sight of the light brown teddy bear, that he gifted to you for your birthday, stimulating your clit- left Bucky no option but to stroke himself in the hallway.
Praying silent prayers that his wife wouldn’t catch him cumming in his hand to his precious stepdaughter.
Overtaken with the pleasure, your grasp on your teddy’s head tightens as the rocking of your hips became more aggressive. Simulation from the nose on your clit becoming too much for you to bear. The sounds fell from your lips like honey off a spoon- Bucky could listen to your whimpers on a continuous loop.
Your eyes flutter shut as your mouth jaw fall opens- this time, no sound comes out. The overwhelming wave of intense pleasure washing over you- causing your body to twitch and your eyes roll back.
Bucky became addicted to the beautiful sight in front of him, he watched you explore your body almost every day.
“Yes.” Heat flushed your cheeks, and you look down at his fingers playing with the strings.
“Do you want Daddy to touch your special place?” Bucky’s breath is hot on your neck.
The question made the heartbeat between your legs grow louder. All you could manage to do is nod. The sensation of your nipples mixed with the hot breath on your neck put you under a spell.
You knew that Bucky shouldn’t be touching you, but you wanted his fingers to play with your cunt- knowing he could make you feel better than any of your teddy’s.
“Has anyone else ever played with you?” Embarrassed, you shake your head.
The answer makes his cock twitch and harden. Bucky dreamed of being the first one who gets to stretch your tight hole. The first one to feel how sweet you tasted as your dripped with arousal- The image of your cunt swallowing his cock has made him cum too many times to count.
“How honored I am to be the one to ruin your innocence.”
The grip on your breasts moved to your hips, leaving your assaulted breasts sore. Twisting your hips, forcing them to turn to face him. Your doe-eyed expression only made Bucky’s cock throb.
Guiding your shaking fingers to his cock, Bucky's eyes are mesmerized at the innocence beginning to drain from your body.
The yelp that you made from the feeling of his erect cock- makes him chuckle.
“Don’t be scared, Honey- Daddy is gonna be gentle with you before I stuff you full of my cock.” The fallen piece of hair is moved ever so gently from your cheek.
The adrenaline soaring through your veins and dampening panties gives you a confidence boost, you squeeze him.
A low groan from Bucky causes you to giggle and your eyes light up. Bucky smiles, tilting your chin upward. He plants a small kiss on the corner of your mouth.
“See, little one? You made Daddy feel good- do you want Daddy to make you feel good too?” The softness in his voice relaxes your tense shoulders, trusting that you’re in good hands.
Heat rises in your cheeks at the taboo question, you nod anyway.
“Use your words. Tell Daddy exactly what you want him to do to your special place,” His fingers slide down the thin strap of the tank top, stopping at the base. Your mouth runs dry as he traces the tank top, circling over your nipple.
“I want your cock… inside me…” The request takes Bucky back- thinking you’d ask for your clit to be played with.
“Oh, little one… I’m too big for your little cunt, I have to stretch you out first.” Forming a pout, you frown.
“I promise, Daddy is gonna fill you up real nice, okay? How about you show me how you play with yourself, yeah?” Still pouting, you nod.
Motioning to your bed, you sit on the edge of the bed. Bucky takes a seat on the small ottoman next to the bed.
Tugging the ends of your tank top upward, your breasts drop. An incoherent mumble escapes past Bucky’s lips as his legs spread. The self-control that his exhibiting by not shoving his cock down your throat is astounding.
His flustered reaction causes you to giggle. Leaning back to the bed, you slide off the pajama shorts. The clothing is discarded to the floor beside you.
Legs spread wide, you let one hand play with your nipples, and the other slide down to your glistening cunt.
“You’re so wet, honey- I can see you dripping from here,” Bucky’s palm is over his bugle, messaging himself through his pants.
Hips dig down at the relief from your touch, sliding your fingers between your folds. The juices coat your fingers, you bring them to your mouth- closing your lips around them, sucking off your arousal. Bucky is in disbelief from how natural it was for you to taste yourself and how comfortable you were playing with your cunt in front of him. He begins to fiddle with his zipper.
Your light breathy whimpers fill the room as your fingers toy with your clit.
Bucky’s fingers wrap around himself, slowly stroking himself- attempting to process the breathtaking sight of your cunt on full display.
Your hips buck into your fingers, while whimpers beginning to recklessly fall from your mouth.
Blindly reaching around for your stuffie to grind your now swollen clit into, but instead, feel a pair of calloused palms on your inner thighs.
“Couldn’t take it anymore- I need to taste that cunt for myself.” The sound that leaves your mouth surprises both of you as you feel his mouth attack your cunt.
His tongue dragging all over your cunt, licking up all the juices. The new sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before- the way his tongue flicked your clit and lapped up your fallen juices pulled you closer and closer to the edge.
“Fuck. I’ve never seen such a stunnin’ pussy before, honey” Bucky can’t stop himself.
The moment your hips began to squirm, and the squeals and whimpers fall from your lips- his forearm holds your tummy down. Bucky wants to savor every last bit of you. The pad of his finger glides over the moist fold, examining you up close.
“Gotta see how tight you are,” He inserts his middle finger.
Curling in them in, grazing your g-spot. The force on your tummy enhances the pleasure building.
“Oh, honey- Daddy needs to stretch your little cunt,” The ring finger joins the middle, sending you flying into a euphoric state.
Bucky pumps his arousal-coated fingers, growing in speed. You ball the sheets in your fists, bucking your hips into his fingers.
“Please Daddy!” You choke pathetically.
“Please what? You need to cum?” You can barely manage to nod as you feel the lower half of your body become weak.
“I need you to tell me with your words.” You’ve entered another world and your fingers desperately try to unhook his grasp on your tummy.
“I can’t hold it- Daddy, please let me cum all over your fingers!” Proud of how quickly you’re learning his rules, he grants your wish.
Twitching and bucking aimlessly, you are overwhelmed with the shockwaves of pleasure that are soaring through every nerve of your body. Bucky continues to stretch your pussy, curling his fingers into your g-spot.
Another wave of pleasure takes you, you're blinded by who powerful it is- no sound comes from you, body silently convulsing.
“I’m so proud of you, honey. Can’t wait to ruin you with my cock,” Bucky discarded the rest of his clothes, dropping them with the others.
Regaining your vision and the rest of your senses, you met with his cock looking right at you- angry, swollen, and dripping with precum.
“See what that pussy does to me?” He chuckles, watching your eyes go wide and chest rise.
“I’ll be gentle,” He coos, kneeling down, placing a tender kiss on the top of your heat.
The confidence you once had vanishing as he grabs hold of himself. His cock throbbing against your folds as he slides his tip up and down.
Your moans don’t sound human as his tip finally enters you. The grunts match your moans. The tightness of your walls around Bucky catches him off guard. His fingers were nothing compared to his girth and length.
“Daddy- you’re too big for me I can’t-“ Tears form in the corners of your eyes the further he pushes himself.
“I’ll make it fit, ‘m filling you up.” With one swift motion, his pelvis flushes with your thighs.
The sweet sound of your cries and the instinct to pull off him- turns him feral. Bucky’s palms spread your thighs out, keeping them from pulling away from him.
“Don’t pull away. You’re doing such a good job,” Each thrust releases an animalistic sound from you, your body feeling numb with bliss.
Bucky feels your body relax completely, opening you up more, granting him the ability to go deeper. Turning into his fuck toy, you’re a babbling whimpering mess. You’ve lost vision and the ability to form words.
After being stuffed inside you, there is no way that Bucky going to be able to use his hand again. There is no replicating your cunt- how tight, warm, or the sounds you made.
“Daddy is so close, little one. Do you want Daddy to fill you up? Want him to stuff you full of his cum?” Bucky’s voice almost mocking how pathetic you look you’re your breasts bouncing, and your body paralyzed by his cock.
“Fill me, p-please!” You cry through the pleasure and pain.
Bucky’s palm presses on your tummy, increasing the pleasure of his cock ramming into you. Bucky’s foul curses and strings of praises of how amazing your cunt feels around him sound muffled to you.
As he presses on your tummy, he can feel himself filling you through your tummy. You cry out in pure bliss, desperately trying to move your hips from the sensitivity. The third wave crashing into you and wrecking you completely.
“Oh, look at that! Look at all my cum inside you,” Once he removes himself from you, your body twitched.
Bucky can’t take his eyes off of your cunt, cum dripping out of your abused hole. You’re laying heaving on the bed, processing all the pleasure rushing through you.
“I’m so proud of you,” Bucky lays next to you, tracing patterns on your tummy, bringing you down from your high.
Bucky grabs the towel from the hook, opening your shaking thighs. He wipes away the spilled cum. Still sensitive you whimper at the contact of the towel. Bucky peppers kisses around your inner thighs and on your tummy.
“Thank you for letting me ruin this pretty pussy,”
taglist: @hunter-of-baker-street @ifeelloved @freshluiana @multiplums
2K notes · View notes
thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Bouquet
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None
Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having come clean about being single for a very long time now and considering herself completely out of the dating scene, Y/N’s confession is taken and responded to with a ton of kindness, especially from a special someone...
Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your lovely request, it was such a joy to write! I’m so sorry for the long wait you had to go through but the fic is finally here and I hope you enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤
I roll out of bed with little to no desire to start my day. We haven’t got a scheduled stream for today and the clouds glooming in the sky seem to be promising rain so really what do I have to get up for except that it’s a rule society installed?
Just kidding, I’m basically stalling and that’s all.
So what happened was the streamer gang and I were playing Among Us last night and our conversation during the pause between rounds somehow swerved into relationship territory. I stayed quiet the majority of if not all the time because I had no valid input to offer. 
If you know me you know I’m not one of the performers on the dating scene. I have never really confirmed it with my fans - well, until last night, that is - but I bet they have picked up on that fact considering I’ve been on YouTube for around a decade and have never had a partner. That being said, I’d have to also mention that I have in fact dated but someone but it was before my YouTube era started. Me choosing this career path, which back then was just a hobby, had nothing to do with the relationship ending but it still motivated me to not to actively look for a relationship while I’m still focused on my career. It’s too much work, too much stress and requires a lot of balance I most certainly either don’t have or I don’t have the energy to put in balancing my romantic and professional lives. Luckily, no one’s ever pressured me into finding a significant other, not yet at least, so no societal pressure for me!
But I gotta admit I felt real awkward admitting all this last night.
“Hey Y/N what do you think? You’ve been awfully quiet?“ Rae asks, causing me to jolt in my seat from where I’ve been reading my chat for the past five minutes, my mic muted.
I quickly unmute to reply, blushing ever so slightly, “Um, sorry I was reading my chat. What do I think about what?”
“The gesture of giving flowers to your significant other, is it romantic or a waste of money and plant murder?“ Rae explains, still managing to catch me off-guard with her question.
I ponder what my response should be for a little bit before deciding to level it to a neutral level where I almost sound indifferent, “It is in fact plant murder basically and artificial flowers would definitely be a better gift - plus they’ll last longer.”
“Mhmm yeah that’s true.“ Poki agrees with me, “But there’s still the question of whether it’s a romantic gesture or not. I personally don’t think it’s overrated or cheesy, I actually quite like it. What about you, Y/N?“
And now she’s got me in a real trap that I can’t wiggle out of without speaking my truth. I don’t know where this sudden anxiety around the subject came from but it now resides within me rent free and makes me feel self-conscious and embarrassed of the confession I’m inevitably make.
“Um, I wouldn’t know for certain, I’ve never received flowers myself...“ I say sheepishly, cringing at the sound of my own voice, “It’s not like I’ve dated plenty of people and the one guy I did date wasn’t really romantic or anything, I mean - we were teenagers, after all. But when I think about it in theory I think I’d like the gesture: it’s thoughtful, plus you get a temporary but beautiful piece of décor out of it.“
I’m gonna hope I didn’t sound too pitiful or desperate. Of course I’m not gonna check afterward on the stream cause I’d rather live in the illusion of having sounded humorous rather than be given the confirmation that I didn’t.
“Wait, wait, wait, did you date your last boyfriend like a decade ago?“ Corpse is now the one talking and that makes me feel even more anxious. This is not the impression one would want to give to their crush, is it? Oh well, no turning back now.
“Correct.“ I reply with a laugh that I hope didn’t sound as nervous as it was.
“And you’ve never, like in your whole life, received flowers from someone?“ He sounds astonished which sort of makes me want to shrink up in my shell like a turtle. Too bad I don’t have a shell though. I’m genuinely thinking of the option to rip the router out of the outlet right now to save me the troubles but I’m not that immature. I’m surprised I’m even reacting this way - this topic doesn’t usually bother me at all but now for some reason I’m red as a tomato and shrinking in my chair. 
I know what the obvious answer is but I’d rather die than admit to it.
“Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds bad but I really don’t care.“ I make an attempt at changing the subject, swerving it back to the main topic rather than my lack of a love life, “I do, in fact, find the gesture sweet - it adds vibrancy to the relationship just like the flowers would add vibrancy and color to the space they’re put in.“
“Oh my gosh, that’s such a cool analogy!“ Rae gushes, “You’re totally right, it might be an old trick, but it’s aged like fine wine.“
Phew, God bless you Rae.
“Exactly, exactly.“ Corpse agrees as well but I don’t think he’s fully heard what Rae said since he sounds to have fallen in deep thought.
At least I got away with it with only making a SLIGHT nervous wreck of myself.
Yikes, was that horrible, though I don’t people will remember it for long. Sure, my fans have sent me thousands of lovely messages and pictures of bouquets and will maybe continue sending them for another day or two - which I highly appreciate, don’t get me wrong. I’m severely touched by this gesture of theirs and it almost makes me glad I finally ‘came clean’ about my romance-less life - however, it’ll fade overtime. I mean, who the heck cares if I’m single or not?
As I pour the milk over my cheerios which I’ve been snacking on dry for the past half hour as I rifled through the many notifications clogging up my lock screen, I hear the doorbell ring. I’m understandably puzzled by this, seeing as how I never get visitors so that doorbell rings only when I’ve ordered something, be it takeout or a random item off Amazon. However, I can’t remember ordering anything, at least not anything that should be arriving at the moment or even anytime soon - that glow-in-the dark curtain isn’t supposed to arrive until next week.  I make my way to the door, unbothered by the fact I’m still in my pajamas, and take a look through the peephole.
It’s a delivery guy...and he happens to be holding a huge-ass bouquet.
“What the...“ I mutter to myself as I unlock and swing open the door in the blink of an eye, “Hi?“
“Hi there, are you Y/N L/N?“ The delivery guy, who I’ve seen many times before and who I’m on pretty friendly terms with, asks me jokingly, sending a wink my way.
“I sure am.“ I reply, my gaze fixated on the breathtaking flowers he’s holding, “But those can’t be for me, that’s for sure.“
He fishes looks at his clipboard one more time, nodding before he looks back at me, “I double and triple checked, Y/N, they’re for you. Here, have a look if you don’t believe me.” He turns the clipboard  for me to see and he is actually telling the truth. I mean, I doubt he’d have any reason to lie to me but mix-ups happen all the time.
“Um, ok thanks. Sorry for the halt, it’s just...I’d hate to be the recipient of the flowers meant for another girl.” I apologize as I take the bouquet for him, still in awe of the fact I’m the one it was made and meant for and sent to.
I say a quick ‘bye’ to the delivery guy before practically running inside to inspect this bouquet for a card from the sender. I have my guesses: it has to be someone who was present during the stream last night and someone who knows my address. Hopefully it’s someone from my friend group and not a fan who watched the stream and just happens to know my address. I’d still appreciate the gesture, but I’d also install security cameras if that was the case.
Something about the color scheme of the flowers - pink and black - gives me Rae vibes since she constantly teases me about my aesthetics contradicting each other. But then again, Poki does it too so it could be her as well....
Oh...OH GOD IT’S NEITHER OF THEM
                                                               ~ ~ ~
I’ve been sitting here, keeping myself a safe distance from my phone so I’m not the first one to send her a text. So I don’t ask if she got what I sent her. So I don’t ask what she thought of it, how the bouquet looks in her living room, how it smells, how it makes her feel. I have so many questions so that phone is best off at a major distance from me. I’m the one who’s better off with such a huge distance between me and the device, to be perfectly honest.
Was it a bad idea? Should I have slept on it - or just thought about it longer cause sleep and I don’t get along? Should I have at least waited a day or two? Should I-
My phone vibrates with a notification and I practically fly to it from across the room, grabbing it and unlocking it asap. My heart sinks and takes off like a rocket simultaneously when I see I’ve been tagged in Y/N’s Instagram story. I nervously tap the notification that sends me to the picture of the bouquet I sent her with some text written over it.
“Thank you, Romeo ;)“
Somehow that one sentence answers all those aforementioned questions.
Is this what people refer to as butterflies in one’s stomach? Cause it feels significantly more like a crush...oh wait.
@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76
301 notes · View notes
mercurial-madhouse · 3 years
Text
Trigger Warning: Healing is painful, but there’s so much light on the other side if we’re strong enough to walk through the dark.
My hope in sharing my story is to help anyone who reads it find peace or healing, just as I always aim with my fiction. If it feels right to you to do so, I encourage you to reblog this. It is highly personal, but I choose to share it publicly.
************
This past Sunday, I received an email responding to my desire to withdraw from a fic fest. Instead of the simple “You have been removed from the fest” that I’d been expecting through an official channel from mods to a participant, this is the response I received. Please be aware, the following is painful.
***
We've removed you from the fest and will mark you down as not being welcome to participate in future fests. We show a great deal of compassion toward our writers, which is why we send reminders, answer any and all questions, and provide extensions when requested. There's a reason why our fest has one of the highest numbers of fics of any fest/challenge in the fandom - it's because we support our participating writers and do everything possible to assist them as they complete their fics.
However, once a writer has repeatedly failed to communicate and missed both a deadline and an extended deadline, it's clear that they do not have any respect for the fest, the mods, our time, or our own unique situations, as we don't have endless extra hours to track down participants in a fic fest. Several reminders on three different platforms, an extension, and requests for writers to simply let us know if they need more time does not demonstrate a lack of compassion in any capacity. We also showed a great deal of compassion by welcoming you with open arms into the [redacted] after you insulted the fest, insulted [redacted] fics, and made writers uncomfortable last year after signing up to beta their fics, all while pretending to support and uplift writers in the fandom just as you did in your email here.
Have a great week!
- [redacted] Mods
***
This email arrived right at the end of the night, just as I was lying down to sleep. I couldn’t read it all the way through. It elicited a trauma response in me. My heart started racing, my palms were sweaty, I was shaking, I felt sick to my stomach.
I went into fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode. My first response was to freeze. In order to escape the barrage of pain bombarding me, I simply dissociated and disconnected from my body. It allowed me to sleep, but barely. I deleted the email in a desperate attempt to pretend it didn’t exist.
The pain caught up with me twenty-four hours later. I couldn’t breathe, my lungs shrunk in around my heart. My whole body locked up. I couldn’t move. I knew that if I spoke, even to say ‘hello’ to someone, I’d start crying.
The moment I was alone in my room the tears came. The pain came, bursting through me. I sobbed uncontrollably, curled into myself on my bed, begging for the pain to stop, begging for a miracle, screaming internally for relief and to understand what I’d done to deserve this because I didn’t have the air for more than broken whispers.
I fell asleep whispering ‘I need a miracle’ over and over. The mantra blocked out all the disgusting thoughts that wanted to keep swirling through my head. This is it. This is the final proof that you don’t belong here. You never have. You never will. Run away, M. It’s over. You tried, you failed. You always do. You always will.
I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
Grief is intense. These are the moments where we don’t think we’ll survive what we’re feeling. My love, whoever you are, if you are reading this, hear from me. The agony passed. I needed to feel that agony, to allow it to move through me and to give myself the space to feel it. Without diving off the deep end into what hurts, I wouldn’t have been able to find the inner peace to keep healing, to start to understand.
The residual pain is still there, even as I write this post. But it no longer overwhelms my senses. And by Tuesday morning, I’d been given insight into what was happening.
I experienced a trauma response because it mirrored mistreatment I first received in childhood from family and classmates alike and continued into my adult life. In full view of others, it was acknowledged as cruel even by my mother, who struggles with her own guilt because she never stood up for me. No one did.
So I internalized the mistreatment. I must deserve it if everyone else around me is ok with me being singled out like this? At first I spoke up for myself. But in the end I stopped speaking up for myself too. I had never healed this pain and here it was, coming back around again, forcing me to face it, to heal it once and for all.
I still do not know what exactly I may have said to cause these accusations that you see in the email. **I do not and will not deny them.** Even if my words were taken in a way I did not consciously intend, to deny that I said anything that caused someone else pain is to deny my own power AND to deny that everyone’s emotions are valid and worth digging into.
I have the power to inflict pain, just as I have the power to spread and share love and joy.
Whatever I said came from a place of pain, of believing I did not belong in this community. That I am not good enough or worthy enough to be here. A series of unfortunate but necessary events when I first entered this fandom completely disintegrated my core beliefs in my abilities as a writer, something I have always kept so close to my heart, and my belief that I had a place in this fandom.
I expect, as I look into my past patterns, that what I did was try to logic why I wasn’t allowed to belong. At the time, this fest was the only subset of the fandom I knew, I was so brand new. So I looked through all the prompts in the fest. I brought a scientific method view to answering the question: “What is it about the fics people write in this fandom am I unable/incapable of doing?”
This process allowed me to generalize everything I saw that I perceived as ‘I can’t do that, this is why I don’t belong here’. Consumed in my own doubt that I could measure up and write something worth reading, I dropped from the fest last year too. If I can’t contribute writing that’s worth reading, I could at least stick with what I do best, which is helping others be their best selves. I had signed up to beta, and I chose to cling to the only grasp of belonging I had, which was through beta’ing. I ended up beta’ing four fics last year for the fest. And, of course, each of them were (and still are) incredible fics. At the time, it was further proof to me of exactly what I can’t accomplish.
In all likelihood, these generalizations, stemming from a place of pain and jealousy because I wanted to write good fics too, came out in a personal conversation with someone, which they translated as a personal attack. It is valid. Whoever you are, your emotions are valid. It does not matter how I meant whatever I said, pain is what you felt. This person did not feel comfortable sharing that pain with me, so instead they turned to others and shared. My moment of vulnerability and pain then spread more pain.
Pain only comes from pain.
The response was to shadow ban me. In fact, I was never meant to find out about any of this. The pain this person shared was simply taken at face value and that was that.
So on my end, this decision showed up in the physical world this way: Suddenly all my asks went unanswered, people I tagged to share snippets and last lines and get to know more through ‘about me’ posts or who had once talked to me through DMs simply stopped speaking to me in a way that is only noticeable to the person being ignored. I thought I was going crazy. But there it was, right in front of me: absolute proof that I wasn’t good enough to be a part of this fandom.
Is anyone else beginning to see the cycle of pain?
I expect I continued this cycle right back, because the pain turned to bitterness. I’d been doing everything I could to support every author the best way I knew how, and this was what I got? The exact opposite?
I found out about this shadow ban and actual blocking around June of this year. An ask sent in by a friend for me, inquiring why I couldn’t reblog a post that’d been sent to me by someone else, finally gave me the answer that I’d been banned for the accusations you saw above.
Horrified, hurt, and unable to comprehend any of this except to know that I support every author no matter what they write, I sent an apology to the mods, trying to end this cycle the best I could without knowing any of the details of what had happened. There was nothing more I could do.
They thanked me for the apology, though as you can see from the email, it was never accepted. I do not say that as a judgement call, but simply as a statement of what happened. Everyone is entitled to accept or not accept in their own time and their own ways.
I have been healing so much since everything that occurred last year. And the more I dig in to this cycle, the more my heart goes out to the drafters of this email, to the person I hurt with my words who then turned to share it out of context with others, and to the people who shadow banned me in connection with this situation.
We attract to us what resonates with us. Like attracts like. Which means just as I’ve attracted the greatest friends to me, I have also attracted this pain, and conversely, these mods and that person attracted me to them.
Deep down, on some level we share the same core wounds. And the person who can really understand just how painful those wounds can be is someone who feels them too.
So this is my message to the mods of the above email, to those who have shadow banned me and want nothing to do with me, and to the original person I hurt with my words:
I am sorry for my part in this pain. I am sorry for causing pain and I apologize for it. You are loved. You are enough. You are doing a fantastic job. Your feelings are valid. Your hurt is valid. I don’t know what occurred that hurt you before I entered the fandom, but after finding out from others that an email like the one you sent above is ‘Oh that’s just how they are’ tells me something else happened to hurt you before I even arrived.
Your hurt then is valid too. Allow yourself to feel it and process it. Don’t let it consume you. Don’t let that hurt and fear of it happening again or believing that that’s how everyone is push away from you people who in fact love just what you love. If someone has a different belief from yours, don’t let it invalidate what is true for you. Believing internalized lies about myself only caused me pain. And we spread and create what we believe to be true, whether we consciously realize it or not.
So here, now, is my truth:
I choose to perpetuate love. I choose to spread love. I choose to understand my pain and the pain of others, to transmute it, and to heal it, instead of passing that pain on.
I choose compassion. Compassion for myself in making these mistakes, and compassion for those who have hurt me. I do not condone the email that was sent to me. No one deserves to be treated that way. I choose to focus beneath the visceral anger and lashing out, to focus on the agony beneath the words, and stop this cycle of pain.
I choose to belong in this fandom. I choose to support every author in this fandom and ensure no one ever feels not good enough. I choose to own my past mistakes and learn from them.
I choose trust. To trust that those who I truly hope will see this, will see it. I have no expectations of responses or outcomes or reactions. My only hope is that whoever will benefit from seeing this post will see it.
This is not a matter of right or wrong, bad or good, just or unjust. It is a situation of two parties in pain, triggered by the same triggers.
Looking back on that email, I’ve come to realize that half of the pain I felt when I received it was not my own. I felt the pain of the attack, sure, but I also felt the immense pain beneath those words. And I wish I could hug you. I acknowledge your pain and I acknowledge how painful it is because I know that pain myself. I also know that this pain isn’t you and it isn’t who you are.
So I choose to remember the mods I first met around this same time last year in this same email chain. Mods who were so kind and offered advice to a brand new writer even when she sent an email that had nothing to do with the fest and was still struggling to find her place in the fandom. I choose to remember how beautiful that kindness felt. I choose to remember how I was so grateful for that kindness that I shared my gratitude for these same mods in an email with with another fandom friend at the time. I am still grateful for you.
You are so loved. You are loved for being exactly who you are. This fandom is built upon love. A shared love of five incredibly talented lads who have brought so much joy and light when each and every one of us has needed it the most. Shine your light through the dark and believe with all your heart that you are not alone. You have support. I support you. Shine on. Don’t let anyone dim it.
89 notes · View notes
cloudybarnes · 3 years
Text
(Un)Worthy
Pairing: loki laufeyson x reader
Summary: with thor’s coronation coming up, loki’s feelings of being second-best arise, leading to a much needed emotional expression 
Word Count: 1.2k+
Warnings: sad loki, slight thor slander for the sake of the plot 
Masterlist
A/N: this is based on my own desire to comfort a hurting loki as well as see a joyous loki
Tumblr media
✰  ✰  ✰
"Loki — Loki we can not waste much more time.” You giggled lightly pressing on his chest. 
Loki had been in a playful mood that morning. Just a minute ago, he placed sporadic kisses all across your face and guided you over to the bed. He had pressed you down onto it and laid on top of you grinning all the way. He just liked to hear you laugh, and to know it was him that made you this happy.
“Why, my darling? I’m sure we can spare a little bit of time.” He said, chuckling a little. You had never seen Loki as giddy as he was just then. 
You softly smiled, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I like seeing you so happy, my love. Could it be due to your brother’s coronation or something else?” You lightly wove your fingers through his dark locks. 
Loki grunted, “let us not speak of that for now, darling. I wish to soak up all this time with you before we must subject ourselves to Thor’s coronation.” He tried to kiss your lips once more, but you gently pulled away.
“Loki, are you not proud of your brother’s achievement?” You asked as you gently stroked his left cheek.
He sighed and leaned into your touch. “Thor is not fit to be king. He is brute and arrogant, and a narcissist at best. I do not understand why my father has chosen Thor to lead the people of Asgard over me.”
“I, myself, agree that you would be a marvelous king, Loki. There must be some reason your father has chosen Thor to sit upon the throne.”
Loki snarled and sat himself upright. “Father does not have one good reason Thor deserves the throne more than I. He has always treated me differently than Thor, like he knew I would never amount to be king.” 
You sat up against the headboard and grabbed Loki’s hand. “I’m sure he doesn’t exclude you intentionally. You know how fathers are with their first-born children; it does not mean he loves you any less.”
Loki was silent.
He stared down at your joined hands, not moving. 
“That’s not how it feels.” He said, voice breaking in the process.
You noticed Loki’s eyes start to well up.
Your heart started to break. Your Loki, who had just been so happy and full of life, was now filled with sadness; something you had never seen him experience before. Rather, something he had never let you see before. 
Loki looked as if he had been holding in his feelings for a long time — too long of a time for it to have been healthy. He blinked away the tears glossing his eyes in an attempt to pull himself together. 
“Loki,” you cooed as you rested your free hand on his cheek, brushing under his eye, “do not force down your sorrow. You are safe with me.”
Loki squeezed his eyes tight, trying his absolute hardest to keep himself strong. 
You leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to one of his closed eyelids. “Please, my love, I hate seeing you like this.” 
Knowing his pain was hurting you as well had cracked the god of mischief. 
Loki had started to cry. You’d never seen him this vulnerable in your year together. 
His body shook with each desperate intake of air. Loki hunched over and held his face in his palms, trying to quiet his cries. 
“Oh, honey,” you said gently as you moved your way closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to rest against your chest. “I’m right here, my love, let it out.”
Loki sobbed harder. “Why does he not care for me like he does Thor?” he croaked. 
Your eyes began to gloss over, and your nose began to feel stuffed — as if you were about to cry yourself. “My dear, I do not have an answer to your question. I do not mean to disrespect the king, but Odin is wrong for making you feel this way.”
Loki, now crying silently, nuzzled his face into your neck. You titled your head to give him room, and pulled him closer to you. You began slowly dancing your fingers through his hair in attempts to calm him down.
“If your father can not see how amazing of a man you have turned out to be, then he may as well have lost both his eyes.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 
“Sometimes I just feel, I just feel like nobody cares for me. Does nobody love me?” Loki’s breathing started to pick up again, “Am I unworthy of receiving love? Is it-is it something the matter with me?” 
You choked on a breath. How much pain has he been through that he thinks that low of himself?
“Loki, my darling, you are none of those things. There is nothing wrong with you, and you are worthy of love and so much more.” You reassured. “Your mother, for one, loves you. I know that for a fact. She tells me all the time how proud she is of the man you are.”
Loki peeked his head up and looked at you. 
You ran your fingers under his eyes, brushing the stray tears away. “Your brother Thor, though you feel disdain towards him because of your father, loves you. You may not see it, but I do. He thinks the world of you, Loki. It is evident.”
Loki sniffled, and rested his head back on your chest, listening to your heart beat. You started to run your fingers through his hair once more since he liked it so much. 
“I hope you already know how much I love you,” you confess. “You are the greatest things that has ever happened to me. My love for you reaches no ends, Loki. You are kind and caring, you bring out the spontaneous parts of me, and most of all you are loving. You never fail to make me feel loved, and I can only hope I’m doing the same for you.”
Loki lifted his head to look at you. “(Y/N), out of everyone in the universe, I think you are the only one that I can say truly loves me. You know me better than anyone else, and you still think so highly of me.”
He sighed, and grabbed your hand to kiss your fingertips. “In all the ways my father makes me feel unworthy of love, you are always there to reassure me that I deserve it. You are the person I love the most, and I am forever grateful to receive your love in return.”
You smiled, and pulled Loki close to give him a kiss. You rested your hands gently against his cheeks, slowly kissing him. 
Your lips parted, and Loki rested his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. 
“I love you, (Y/N), so much more than you can imagine.”
You breathed out a laugh, “I don’t think I could ever stop loving you, Loki.”
He let out a relieved breath and pulled back to press a delicate kiss to your forehead. 
A knock on Loki’s door broke you two from your blissful encounter. 
“Your highness? Prince Thor’s coronation is beginning shortly. The King and Queen are adamant you be there.”
Loki softly groaned and buried his face into your neck. “We will be there shortly!” 
You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and ruffled his hair around. “Guess we have to get out there, huh?”
Loki hummed, “I think they can wait a little longer.”
You squealed as he rolled you around and started peppering fast kisses all over your face.
It looks like the coronation will have to wait.
241 notes · View notes
vendettaparker · 3 years
Text
Dancing With Your Ghost [P.P]
Tumblr media
Summary: Every night you’re visited by a ghost from the past.
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: ANGST TO THE MAX, smoking, alcohol, swearing
a/n: this is probably the most depressing thing i’ve written. it’s just all sad, no happy ending, no fluff, sorry! :/ loosely based off the song “Dancing with your Ghost” by Sasha Sloan, which was like my fav song for a whole ass month. it’s a really good song, highly recommend :)
            •───⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
     11:47. Fuck. You’re going to be late. You waved down the bartender and held up two fingers, signaling for two more beers. It’s fine, you could surely be late just this once. He’d forgive you, right? He always did. You finished the last few sips of your previous beer just as the bartender came to you with two more clutched in his hands. You dropped a $50 in front of him and started leisurely sipping your next beer, slowly feeling your sense of reality fade away. 
     Another half hour and you’d finished both beers. Stumbling slightly, you got up and started your trek back to your dingy Queens apartment. You only lived a few blocks from the bar so you made in home what seemed like record time, but who could really tell when you were two shots away from blacking out. The smell of weed, smoke, and old books filled your nose when you entered your apartment. The old book smell had always been a part of you. You were supposed to be an english major, in fact, this would have been your second year of your bachelors. What a fucking waste. Guess whatever talent you had in english didn’t do you any good. The weed and smoke were new scents that always seemed to follow you. After the incident you couldn’t just talk about your feelings like everyone else had. That didn’t nearly calm the throbbing in your chest or the screaming in your head. You needed something more. Something to make the world go quiet. 
     You walked around piles of laundry and old take out containers to make your way to your room, no doubt where the smell was the strongest. You walked into the room and closed the door behind you, pushing a towel in the crack between the door and the floor to prevent any draft from getting in. You then went to your window and locked it, doing the same with smaller dish rags. No drafts. That’s the only way to know that it’s real. That he’s really there. 
     You scrambled around the room a bit more in your drunken haze and found the disk for your old favorite song. His favorite song too. You put it in the CD player and let the album play a few songs while you searched in the mess of books and dust for a pack of cigarettes. You found a half empty pack just as the song you were waiting for started to play. The soft jazz melody floated through the air and you lit a cigarette, breathing it in slowly, feeling your nerves slightly calm. Talking to him always made you nervous, even when you both could practically feel the love you had for one another, he still made your stomach do somersaults. 
     Just as the first line of the song was echoing through the room, you felt it. The light breeze encompassing your body. He was here. 
     You sat on the bed and waited for him to give you a sign again. It only took a few moments for a slight dip in your bed to appear beside you. Any other person would’ve never even noticed the change, but not you, you were too attentive, too desperate to believe he was there. The temperature in the room had dropped significantly and you held your knees to your chest to preserve body heat, all while looking at the little dip in the comforter. 
     “Peter,” you sighed, smiling softly at the empty space where he would be. “Sorry, I know I’m late.” 
     Your words into the void were only met with silence, they always were though. You sniffled and took another drag from your cigarette. “Just been real hard, y’know? I can’t seem to sleep without a drink or two. I just don’t like how loud everything is.” You shrugged, once again only met with silence. The dip in the bed remained, not wavering in the slightest. 
     You sighed, once again feeling defeated not being able to hear his voice or words of encouragement. “You never let me say goodbye y’know.” You said, casually. “I came to the hospital three times that week. Stayed for over four hours each time. I didn’t—I didn’t know you had already left. Nobody told me jack shit.” Tears of frustration and anguish welled  up in your eyes. Still, you were only met with silence. The song that sifted through the room had stopped and the album continued on. 
     “I know I shouldn’t say this, but, why’d you do it? Huh? Why couldn’t you have just saved yourself? Just this once.” You sniffled. “I know, it’s selfish to say that. But I just—” you huffed out a short sob, “love is a selfish thing, I suppose. Cus’ you know I’d do anything to have you back. Anything.”
     You wallowed in the silence for the next couple of minutes, taking a drag of your cigarette here and there. 
     “I think I’m going insane.” You finally said. “I mean, I’m talking to myself, thinking that you’re really here listening.” You wiped your tired eyes and looked at the dip in the bed more intently. “But you are here, aren’t you? You’d never disappoint me by not showing up, right?” 
     You shifted around on the bed, finally settling on laying on your back, head turned to continue to stare at the dip. 
     “Even if I am crazy and I’m talking to myself right now, can you blame me? I was finally happy and it only lasted a few months. Of course I’d be off the rails by now.” You stated, trying to think logically if all these ‘encounters’ with Peter had only been in your head. 
     “Doesn’t matter anyways. It’s better tricking myself into believing you’re here than knowing you’re not.” Your eyes started to droop no matter how desperately you wanted to keep them opened to continue your conversation. 
     “Peter, I’m so tired.” You sighed, closing your eyes, sticky with tears. “If I go to sleep, promise you’ll visit again?” 
     Your mind started falling, slowly plummeting into a deep state of unconsciousness. You hummed out more unintelligible nonsense in a feeble attempt to stay awake. Just before the lights in your mind went completely out, you heard a soft, barely there voice come for the dip in the bed, 
     “Promise.”
236 notes · View notes
pars-ley · 3 years
Text
Bare yourself (part three)
Tumblr media
Pairing: CEO Jimin x female reader
Summary: After a serious hack from your office building, fingers start being pointed but in which direction is the right one and where will that leave you and your boss, Jimin?
Genre: CEO au / smut / angst / series / workplace au / strangers to lovers au / boss/employee au
Rating: 18+ (NSFW)
Warnings: Phone sex / Masturbation m and f / Police interrogation / Explicit language / CEO Jimin
Word count: 3.5k
Beta: @erotikkook thank you!
Notes: Ok, so this took me a ridiculously long time to finish, life is manic but here's the next chapter. Thank you for being patient. Hope you all enjoy!
Taglist: @jungkooksbroski @unoriginal-username15432 @yoobikook @vonvi-blog @itsohhonney @kpopnoobsstuff @namyoongles @btsmosphere @autumnbear @ownthesunshine @btstista​
"Miss l/n, we know the hack came from inside the building. All I want to do is find out who's responsible. Which means I need your cooperation." Detective Kim Namjoon peers at you over the frames of his dark glasses. 
"And like I've said, you have my full cooperation. I cannot tell you anything more than I already have." You respond leaning forward on the table, desperate for him to believe you.
He slumps back in his seat and sighs. "Miss l/n, we can't keep doing this back and forth routine. I-"
"Sir, I love my job and I love this company," you interrupt. "I also think very highly of my boss, I. Would. Not. Do. This."
"How high?"
You freeze at his sudden change of questioning. "What?"
"How high?" He repeats. "Is something going on between you two?"
You straighten your back, looking at him through narrowed eyes, feeling the rock of a lie settle in your stomach and weigh you down. "Mr. Kim, I am a professional."
He puts both his hands up in surrender. "No offense intended ma'am. It's just that some of your other coworkers seem quite smitten with him."
You almost roll your eyes, knowing you were probably just as dreamy eyed as your co-workers but too proud to admit it.
"Oh, and they did mention the two of you cosying up at a recent work party."
You resist the urge to swallow as your heart pounds violently inside you, panic squeezing your pumping organ in a vice grip. You thought no one had noticed your exchange or your absence when you both left.  
"We were talking, yes. He offered me a promotion and wanted to discuss it."
He looks impressed. "Wow, what a good opportunity, he must trust you a lot."
"He did." 
"Until this?" He scrubs a hand over his smooth face and you nod.
"Um-hm. What would you say you could hack into?"
You frown, not understanding the question. "Sorry?"
"Could you hack just about anything?"
Thinking about it you shrug, "Most things I'd say."
"Even something as impenetrable as this program?"
You laugh. "Sir, I designed the security portion of this program, I wouldn't need to hack into it." You lean forward again. "Let me explain something to you, if I were to do something like this, I would have been in and out without anyone knowing. I would know how to cover my tracks without being detected."
You pause rubbing your temples, "If you ask me, this was done by someone with a limited knowledge of hacking and computers. Either that or this person is trying to frame someone in the company. They're your two options."
He smiles at you, two dimples forming an endearing crevice in his cheeks.
"They told me you were smart."
You rub your face ignoring his remark. "I have been here for hours. Am I free to go or are you going to charge me with something?"
"Just one more question. What were you doing last night?"
Your heart stutters before pounding guiltily against your ribcage, with every beat you're almost sure you can hear Jimin's name. Ji-min. Ji-min.
Folding your hands in your lap to disguise you pinching your wrist under the table, trying to do anything to keep your hectic mind calm as you know you have to lie.
"I was at home."
"Alone?" 
The smirk he gives you makes your stomach churn, as if he can see right through you and your lies, as if he can see everything that transpired last night flashing behind your eyes. 
"Yes." Your voice comes out raspy, a sudden dry patch in your throat makes you swallow involuntarily.
"Run me through your evening." He sinks lower into his seat, you're almost waiting for him to pull out a footstool and put his feet up.
"We set up the project, waited for it to go live-"
"Who's we?"
"My team, myself and Mr. Park."
He nods and gestures a hand for you to continue.
"Once it was live, we monitored it for a few hours, checked everything was in working order and most of my team went home for the night. It was pretty late by then."
He jots your account down on his laptop, the keys clicking furiously as you speak.
"What time is 'late'?"
"Around 10ish."
He raises his brows. "Is that a typical work day for you?"
You shake your head. "No, it was only because we wanted to make sure everything went ok with the go live, a few tweaks and adjustments had to be made, nothing major."
He nods, eyes focused on his screen. "Is that usual at the end of a project, tweaks and adjustments?" 
You shrug. "Sometimes yes, on big projects, sometimes you can't see certain errors until a go live."
"Ok, so it's 10 o'clock and your team have gone home, leaving you and Mr. Park. What happened next?"
You massage your temples. "We spoke in his office."
"About what?"
Your hand slams down on the table, an action you didn't intend. "Is that relevant?"
He looks up startled, then smiles. "Why? Have I touched a nerve?"
You resist the urge to lean across the table and pound your fist into his smug face and instead lean back in your seat with your arms folded, an attempt at shielding yourself. "We spoke about the project and the result. It seemed to be successful, at the time, so we had a celebratory night cap."
He shoves his laptop aside, leaning forward on his elbows, ears pricked and ready. "Let me get this straight. You and the - forgive me - handsome Mr. Park are alone in the building, in his office and having a night cap, late at night?"
"Yes." You reply bluntly, the arrogance of him, so sure he'll find your lie, flaming your veins with rage.
"Does Mr. Park regularly have his colleagues in his office for a night cap?"
"I wouldn't know sir, I'm not his secretary."
"Even if you were, she'd have gone home hours ago, according to you." He pauses watching you, his eyes so intense they feel smothering-suffocating. 
His stare eases, releasing you from its hold. "Ok continue, what happened after your night cap?" He relaxes and goes back to typing. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, air feeling light and free again.
"We talked, I finished my drink, then I went home."
"How did you get home?"
You pause. If you lie, they're bound to see the footage of you and Jimin leaving the building together, with you getting into his car. 
"Miss l/n? How did you get home?" 
Here he goes looking expectantly over the rim of his glasses again.
"Mr. Park gave me a ride home."
And there was that infuriating smirk again. "Is that so? Was his driver there or did Mr. Park do the driving?"
You feel the heat on the back of your neck as you're reminded of how Jimin's hands felt on your skin, hot and eager in the back of the car. "His driver took me."
"With Mr. Park."
You nod slowly. 
"And I suppose he just said goodnight and off you went?"
"You're correct, sir." 
"And Mr. Park will vouch for this story of yours?" He taps his bottom lip with the pen he just pulled out of his pocket.
You nod. "He will because it's the truth." You're both praying and hoping you'd have a chance to speak to Jimin before he got interviewed...if he hasn't been already. God, if they found out you were lying about this, it would make you look so guilty.
"Uh-huh. One other thing…"
Fighting the frustrated growl boiling up inside you, you give him a false smile.
"Do you have any idea why someone would want to hack this software?"
You mull it over briefly, "I would imagine, seeing as it's a security breach for information, that it's to steal. Most of our clients are..." you struggle to find the appropriate wording.
"Rich." He intejects.
You nod agreeing.
"Ummm." He adds watching you, before sitting up and closing his laptop abruptly. "Ok, miss l/n, you're free to go. But we'll be in touch, I assure you." 
He stands up and you quickly follow him out of the room. When he shows you the direction the exit is in he turns to face you and holds out a hand. 
"It's been a pleasure, miss l/n, I know you probably won't be able to say the same, nevertheless." He shakes your hand with a half smile causing the dimple to return, somehow completely softening his face.
You nod and leave as quickly as your tired body will let you.
The cool, night air hitting your face immediately calms your panicked mind. You need to speak to Jimin but it might not be safe to do so.
"Are you ok, y/n?" A deep voice sounds from beside you, silencing all your other chaotic thoughts.
You spin and see Taehyung leaning casually against the pillar of the building smoking.
You relax at the sight of a familiar face. Jimin's personal assistant has always been friendly and kind towards you. You weren't sure but rumours in your company suggested that the two of them were even brothers, although you doubted it as they didn't resemble each other in the slightest.
"Yeah, glad to be out of there though." You reply, massaging the back of your neck.
"I bet, you've been in there a long time. I saw you leave to go to the station with them hours ago."
You nod. "It's been a long and very trying day. Are you waiting to be interviewed?"
He nods, taking a long drag, you watch as the end illuminates orange. 
"Well, I hope they don't keep you in there too long."
"They shouldn't. I've been away, only got back last night. Don't see how much use I can be to them."
He flicks his cigarette into the road and closes the distance between you.
"Listen, if there's anything you need or if you just want to talk or rant, anything. Don't hesitate to give me a call." He hands you his card. "This is a tough situation for everyone, we all need someone every now and then."
His bright, boxy grin has your mouth upturning before you know it. You thank him and hail and cab. Glancing at him, you see him watching you as the car drives away, unsure as to whether he's flirting or you're reading too much into it and he's being his usual cheerful self.
You shrug it off. All you can think of is getting home, running a nice, hot bath and forgetting this day ever happened.
*****
Back to reality as you sit with your silk robe wrapped around you, your laptop positioned neatly on your thighs, going through every possible way someone could have hacked into this, looking for how they got in. 
But nothing made sense, this was definitely not a hack done by someone with limited knowledge as you originally thought. 
There was no trace of anything left behind, no mark that anyone had even been in. Which only means, the hack had to be someone with inside knowledge of the project already, it definitely wasn't an outside hacker.
A more alarming finding was discovering the computer used for the hack was actually yours.
But why make it so obvious where the hack took place and which computer...unless...someone is trying to frame you. This wasn't something you had realistically considered. 
If you were honest, no one was even jumping out at you as a suspect. You trusted everyone in your team and everyone who helped on this project.
You sigh, massaging your temples as you try to clear your mind.
A harsh knock on the door makes you jump and you glance at your phone. 
02.31.
Who on earth would be knocking at this hour?
You head over, opening the door slightly with the chain still pulled tight across, to see a man; hat pulled down covering his eyes, standing there handing you a small, brown package through the gap.
"It's from Jimin." He says quietly. You watch his mouth - the only part of his face you can see - stretch into a gummy smile, before turning and exiting the building. 
Bewildered, you close the door and rip open the box. Staring at its contents and searching for some kind of note explaining what on earth this is for. 
A phone. 
What are you supposed to do with it?
You take it out, examining it and noticing the mistletoe background. Just like the mistletoe you first kissed Jimin under.
You jump out of your skin, fear firing an ice bolt right through you as it lights up and starts ringing.
Hesitantly, you answer. "Hello?"
"Y/n," Jimin's breathy voice sounds in your ear and sends a scattering of goosebumps across your skin. "I'm sorry for the cloak and dagger but I'm unsure if I'm being watched."
"By the police?" You ask, worried at the urgency in his voice.
"Not just them. Listen," he starts before you can interject. "I want you to know that no matter how it seems or what I say in front of other people, I do believe that you had nothing to do with this hack."
The relief that floods you has your shoulders relaxing instantly, not even aware they were tense. "I am glad to hear you say that, thank you."
"I also want to apologise, I did not mean for your involvement with me to put you at risk of any trouble."
You frown, trying to make sense of his words. "I really don't see how the two are connected."
He sighs and the urge you have to comfort him, to wrap your arms around him until his stress is eased, almost has you putting on your shoes and coat. "It doesn't matter. Things are complicated with me and it wasn't fair for me to drag you into that."
"Hey, hey," you sit down on the edge of your bed. "You didn't drag me anywhere. I'm a big girl Jimin, I can make my own decisions, last night being one of them and I definitely do not have any regrets about that."
You're met with silence as you find yourself fiddling with the bedsheets, reminiscing his touch. 
"I most definitely do not regret it either." He finally says. You think you can hear a slight smile in his voice. "That was a moment I had wanted for longer than I care to admit."
His unexpected confession causes a furious blush to creep up your chest.
"I wish I could see you." The desperation in his voice makes you hot underneath your robe.
"Why don't you come over?" You ask, hesitantly biting your lower lip.
"I wish I could, lord knows I do, but I can't risk it, for your sake." 
You collapse back on the bed in frustration, his scent jumps up and captures you, pulling your mind into filthy places. "My bed sheets still smell like you." You say the words before thinking them through. 
"Do they?" His voice is suddenly husky and full of want. "And what is going through that impressive mind of yours?" 
"You are. Your touch, your taste, how I wish to feel your perfect lips on me again." Your hand makes its way down to open your robe, cool air hitting your skin and puckering your nipples.
"Hmm-mm, and what are you doing while you're thinking about me?" He asks.
"What do you want me to do, Jimin?" You accentuate his name, knowing how much he loves it when you say it.
"Touch yourself." He whispers.
You waste no time in obeying, as your fingers travel quickly down to your throbbing clitorous. The feel of your fingertips massaging your sweet bud makes you moan.
"Oh god, this makes me want to see you even more." He groans. 
You use the phone to snap a quick photo of your actions and send it to the number you're on the line too. "Incoming message, sir." You say teasingly.
"Oh, fuck," he says in the distance and instantly followed by the sound of his trouser zipper being undone. "You make me crazy." His voice is right back at your ear.
"Jimin, I wish it was my mouth around your rock hard cock." 
"Me too, angel. God, what I wouldn't give to feel you around me. Tell me, what would you want me to do to you?" He grunts, the sound of him pleasuring himself causes a gush of arousal to spill from your eager hole and you spread it over yourself.
"I'd want your mouth on me...everywhere, tasting just how wet I am for you." You pant.
"Just for me?" 
"Yes, all for you." You lightly trace circles over your swollen sweet spot, toes curling when he breathes your name down the phone.
"I want to be inside you, again." 
"Anytime, anywhere, just tell me." You whisper, that undeniable build up already at peak point. "I'm going to cum." 
"That's it angel, cum with me." 
You unravel, back arching off the bed and burying your face into the sheets, relishing his scent. You hear him orgasm, repeating your name continuously. It makes you smile inside and it makes you feel powerful knowing how much he wants you.
"I have to say," he says, after you both get your breath back. "That was not the reason for me sending the phone."
You can't help but laugh at that. "What was the reason?"
He sighs again. "Mostly, to apologise and to have a way to speak to you that I know is safe. We have to be careful, now."
"Why, what are you so worried about?"
A long pause. "I can't," you can almost hear his inner turmoil, the fight with himself. "I'm just trying to protect you. You don't need to be involved."
You're about to argue but something inside you stills. If you push someone like Jimin too much, he'll only clam up further, he'll open up when he's ready...you hope.
"Keep this phone on, ok?" He pleads.
"More late night phone sex?" You tease, chewing your lip.
"I wouldn't say no," he laughs. "I do, however, just want to be able to talk to you, if that's ok?" 
You nod and realise he can't see that. "Of course, anytime."
"I wouldn't say that, you'll never get me off the phone." 
You feel yourself smiling like a cheshire cat, feeling like a lovesick school girl again. What has this man reduced you to?
"Goodnight y/n. Sleep well, angel." He hangs up the phone, leaving your heart stuttering and your stomach flipping with excitement. The prospect of something new on the horizon, even with all the current problems you're facing, something still seeming positive might come out of this. All you can do is hope.
******
Getting ready for work the next morning you felt conflicted, part of you was on cloud nine, drifting blissfully along on nothing but hope and dreams. The other part was dreading the work day and what it could bring, plus you still had your own discreet investigating to do.
A harsh, yet cheerful rap on your door, startled you. 
Rushing to the door to see who it is, a small part clinging onto a chance it could be Jimin, only to be disappointed when you open the door and find detective Kim Namjoon staring back at you.
"Ah Miss l/n, I'm so glad I caught you before work, could I come in?" The same smug smile stretching his full lips as he leans casually against your door frame, his laptop hooked under his arm.
"Really? Right now, I'll be late for work." You reply, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights.
"That's ok, I've already informed your boss of your late arrival." He assures you cockily. "So, can I …?"
You grit your teeth and step out of the way, gesturing for him to enter. 
You watch as he studies every inch of your living area, peering into your bedroom.
"What is it I can help you with, detective?"
He turns to you, "Ah, yes of course." 
Setting his laptop down on your dining room table, hitting a few keys and spinning it round towards you. "You might want to sit down for this." He says, as he hits the play button.
You ignore him and watch. 
Video footage of your office building, of you walking to your office partition specifically. You watch yourself sit in the empty building, at your computer and leave again. You look up at the detective, confusion marring your brow and he simply taps the screen where the date and time stamp are.
You follow it, and re-read it at least three times, eyes open wider than ever, as if that'll somehow help you see different numbers.
The frown creases deeper into your forehead as your brain catches up with the fact that the video shows you, alone in the building, at the exact time and date of the hack. 
119 notes · View notes
magioftheseas · 2 years
Text
A Smile In Fragments
Summary: When Komaeda first woke up, Hinata didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he wanted Komaeda to scream, maybe he wanted Komaeda to cry, or maybe... Maybe deep down, he wanted Komaeda to smile at him and accept his situation with that carefree calm he had been stuck on for months now.He got that in the worst possible way.
Rating: T+
Warnings: Suicide attempt which results in copious gore.
Notes: This is another old-ass wip that I finished up and posted, which means it was written pre-dr3. Back in the day, I was curious about Amnesiac Komaeda AUs set post-sdr2, so I tried my hand at it. This is what happened. Yeah. It’s, uh, pretty rusty but I guess I have some amount of fondness for it.
***Alternate Ao3 Link***
Commission? Donate?
Just Komaeda smiling at him was enough to make him snap.
“What,” Hinata snarled, stalking forward as the boy in the sheets faltered. That damn smile wilted but Hinata only felt his anger flare burning hot before his eyes. “What the hell were you even thinking?”
Komaeda hesitated to answer and Hinata loomed over him, fists shaking at his sides and glare absolutely poisonous. That the other couldn’t dignify him with some self-righteous answer was even worse. “Do you even understand the shit you’re in right now? Did you honestly think pulling that stunt would make anything better? I was trying, alright? I was trying to help you only for you to just...”
He stopped, trembling with fury and unable to even say it as he shut his eyes. Komaeda made a noise. A familiar sound that has Hinata nearly lose his temper and commit an act he’d regret... But instead, he lets out a heavy sigh and gives Komaeda a look of disgust.
His look drops when he sees how Komaeda’s reacting—how he’d been reacting ever since Hinata started yelling at him.
Komaeda looks terrified—sincerely, purely scared in a way that Hinata had never seen before. He’s back against the wall, knees tucked between them like a barrier and arms pressed close against his chest. His body’s wracked with tremors, his eyes wide like a child’s, and Hinata’s anger utterly dissipates back into worry.
“Komaeda...?” he asks, voice softer with a bit of a waver. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I’m... I’m sorry...” Komaeda manages just as the nurse bursts in.
“Hinata-san,” she says and Hinata has to tear his sight away. He hears Komaeda stifle a sob, and the seriousness in the nurse’s eyes doesn’t stop him from flinching. “We need to talk.”
--
When Komaeda first woke up, Hinata didn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe he wanted Komaeda to scream—his plan failed after all, tremendously so because not only were they all still alive, but he was still alive as well...and the only person who really died was never living in the first place—or maybe he wanted Komaeda to cry—I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, but how likely was that—or maybe... Maybe deep down, he wanted Komaeda to smile at him and accept his situation with that carefree calm he had been stuck on for months now.
Instead, Komaeda shut down as soon as he woke up. He shut them out.
He was in poor condition upon waking and needed to be nursed, so it didn’t require much effort on his part. The rest of them avoided visiting him, too, except for Hinata who was desperate enough to want something...and maybe a little bit anxious because he remembered the last time they left Komaeda alone to his own devices. Not that it mattered, because even when Hinata tried to be polite, Komaeda seemed content to ignore his existence. Like he really was the Ultimate Nobody.
It made him angry enough to stop trying. But he still worried—that traitorous niggling feeling digging under his skin like a parasitic worm and aggravating him to the point where he felt like he was going to go insane. But there was nothing he could do, right, if Komaeda wasn’t going to acknowledge him—there was nothing he could do...
But, god, desperately and shakily pressing torn bits of fabric to Komaeda’s head in a frenzied attempt to stop the bleeding—if there was really nothing he could have done to prevent this...
“Don’t, please don’t die,” he begged, heart pounding. He already called Naegi in hysteria but Hinata was terrified at the bleak, real possibility that it’d be too late. Komaeda’s eyes were already fluttered shut and blood was still pulsing and slicking his trembling fingers. “Please, Komaeda, stay with me, stay with me... I-I can’t...”
It’s only by the time the others get there that Hinata realizes he’s been crying. He tries to wipe the tears away but ends up smearing Komaeda’s blood on his face instead. In seconds, he’s hyperventilating as Naegi takes his shoulders and murmurs to him: it’ll be fine don’t lose hope Komaeda-kun will be fine, you saved him Hinata-kun it’ll be fine...
In the end, Komaeda is saved. Hinata washes away his blood from his hands. And when Hinata hurries to go visit him, Komaeda turns and gives him a smile.
--
Komaeda smiled at him again when he entered. But this time the smile was tinier, more fearful—and the more Hinata thought about it, the more the smile from before seemed more for the sake of platitude. And yet he got angry.
This wasn’t the time to feel guilty over it. But he should...
“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I...” I wasn’t aware of your condition. But I say something like that, and he’ll know I meant it. The yelling part. I did mean it. But I wouldn’t have been like that if I knew... Does that even mean anything? Does apologizing mean anything? What am I supposed to...? “I’m sorry, Komaeda. Do you really not...”
“I forgive you.” Komaeda’s smile was still meek, but also a bit wider, and Hinata didn’t know if that was good or not. He shouldn’t get conceited when Komaeda still seemed so unsure and insecure. “From what I can tell, I think I’m at fault too... You did say you trying to help me, so... Ah, it’s fine. I just ended up startled, because...you know...”
It’s not like you would even know why I’d lose myself like that... You don’t even know who I am anymore... And it’s weird that he’d be so sheepish about it, too, because it’s not like Komaeda chose to conveniently get retrograde amnesia when he did. Hell, the amnesia thing was probably the furthest thing he was aiming for and that was...
Just fine. As far as Hinata was concerned, when things don’t go Komaeda’s way is preferable to otherwise. Komaeda’s way was twisted and distorted and could invariably lead to disaster. Hinata was aware of this from experience, though he was also aware he didn’t fully understand it. It was entirely possible he never would. Still... “Is there anything you want?”
“Huh?” Komaeda looked at him, his head at a bird-like tilt and wide doe eyes. “I’m...sorry? I don’t know if I can answer that question easily...especially when I’m not entirely sure if I can trust you. Yet, at least.” He looks almost apologetic and Hinata really doesn’t get that either. But finally, Komaeda’s looking a bit bright again, and it’s more of a relief than he cares to admit. “So the nurse did explain what’s wrong with me, right? Recently wrong, I mean. There were problems before... Ah, but I don’t know if you know about that so I’ll just stop here. Did she tell you or not?”
“You don’t remember,” Hinata states it bluntly, his throat thick as Komaeda nods in response. “You’ve experienced trauma that resulted in you losing your memories. You... You don’t remember me anymore, do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Komaeda says, his smile sad. “Nor do I remember how I got here. But I’m not completely a blank slate if it means anything! I remember some things that happened to me before—like once, I had a dog? Ha-ha, something like that... There are still holes in the memories, sadly, but at least they’re still there. If it helps, I think one of the last things I remember is getting an acceptance letter.”
“An acceptance letter? For where...?” Hinata was already dreading the answer. Komaeda chewed on his lower lip with a soft hum.
“Some esteemed academy... But I don’t recall the name...”
“Was it Hope’s Peak?” Hinata’s stomach drops. “Y-You...don’t remember Hope’s Peak?”
“Was that the name of the school? That sounds about right.” Komaeda didn’t sound so sure despite his chipper tone. “Sorry, my memory stops there. But since I’ve been diligently explaining my delicate situation, perhaps you could fill me in a bit on the things I don’t know? It’d only be fair, after all...” He holds up his left wrist, tracing the bandages around the stump as he observes it in plain curiosity. “I’m not entirely sure how I got this. The nurses won’t tell me and to be frank, I highly doubt it was from the incident that resulted in my amnesia. It’s a bit healed over and... I think that acceptance letter was a while ago...before this. I’m not sure, but do you know?”
“I-I...” Hinata hesitates, blatantly. “I-I wasn’t there...when you lost it... S-Sorry...”
“So you don’t know? How disappointing.” Komaeda sighed. “Isn’t that so unfortunate? How am I supposed to write? My handwriting’s awful enough as it is and... Oh. Right. Your question. No, I don’t remember going to school at all. I just remember getting accepted.”
“Do you remember anything after that?” Hinata asks. “Like...your classmates? School assignments? F-Field trips?”
“Hm. Those are some generic questions. I get the feeling you’re hiding things from me...” But Komaeda grinned cheekily as Hinata froze for a moment. Komaeda laughed it off like it was no big deal. “Ah, it can’t be helped. But no, sorry. I barely remembered the school’s name after all. Oh, wait, I do remember being on a boat... Actually yeah. I was on some kind of boat.”
“Do you like boats? You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Hinata blinked hard to dispel the image, but Komaeda turned to him with realization clear in his gaze and face lighting up. “That’s right! You were there, weren’t you? You have the same eyes from earlier, though I see you cut your hair... Funny, didn’t you never want to see me again? You were quite cold, you know...from what I remember. What else were we discussing?”
“It’s not important,” Hinata says, voice quick and thick. “None of those things are important anymore. I didn’t mean anything I said back then. That... That’s not me anymore, so you mustn’t worry.”
“Oh...” Komaeda looks a bit disappointed, but still a bit hopeful. “Um. I don’t remember you introducing yourself...”
That’s because I didn’t. Not back then. I didn’t deem it important.
“What’s your name again?”
Hinata swallows. “Hi...Hinata. Hajime Hinata. I was...” Your classmate? But that’s not true, is it? I was never in that...
“My friend, right?” Komaeda asks, and Hinata’s chest seizes up for a moment. And Komaeda looks bashful too, rubbing at his shoulder with a light blush on his face. “I really am sorry... I must have worried you a lot to make you so angry... Though I don’t know how good my words are when like this. But really, I sincerely appreciate you caring so much. Especially since our first meeting didn’t go so well... But since you’ve changed, I guess... We’re friends now?”
You’ve got that wrong. I didn’t understand you. I don’t even know if I can forgive you. Even though you’re alive now, I feel like things have never been more complicated. I don’t know what we were, but it sure as hell was not...
“Or I’m wrong,” he hums, halting Hinata’s thoughts with a self-effacing sigh. “For all I know I could have just been a troublemaker you got saddled with. Isn’t that more likely?”
Hinata doesn’t answer, but Komaeda gives him another sincere smile that takes his breath away. “But I still like you, Hinata-kun. You must be a really kind person to worry so strongly over someone like me. I don’t have to remember our exact relationship to notice that; especially when you were so fired up earlier. I’ll try and do my best, so don’t fret so much, okay?”
I...I may never understand this person...
--
“I don’t want to go back.”
The words were simple, clear, and concise. And yet, they didn’t make any sense at all.
“Komaeda,” Hinata groaned, reaching for the other only for him to avoid his hand. Komaeda’s stare remained—those same wide doe eyes and lips pulled into a neutral straight line—but Hinata grew more agitated by the minute.
The wind blew, ocean waves crashing below, and when Hinata’s eyes drifted from Komaeda, they landed immediately on the edge of the cliff not too far behind the two. The idea appeared in his head and soon sank to his gut, and Hinata nearly begged as he attempted to grab Komaeda. “Come on...!”
“If you’re going to take me back,” Komaeda murmured, face unreadable as he continued to evade his swiping hand. “Then I have no choice.”
“Please, please don’t...”
“Hinata-kun.” It was the first time Komaeda had said his name in months, and it sounded raspy. Awful. Hinata hated the way Komaeda said his name. But he still missed it. And that just made it worse. “What do you think will happen? Good luck or bad luck? Make a prediction—just like you did the first time we met. Hopefully, you won’t be wrong like last time.”
Hinata shouted his name, fear breaking through his anger as he launched himself forward towards the other. He missed Komaeda by mere centimeters and he only saw a blur of white and blue before there was only the barren cliff before him.
Whatever shock he would have gone into was shattered when he heard the soft, muted impact from several feet below.
--
“Oh good morning, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda brightly greeted him, waving his good hand once he saw Hinata standing blankly in his doorway. Hinata wasn’t sure how he looked, and Komaeda gave no comments to it, but there was a slightly concerned way to how Komaeda tilted his head and smiled a bit more. “It’s a bit early... Is something wrong?”
“...Nightmare. I had a nightmare.” With those words out, he stumbled to get close, nearly tripping in his haste to reach out and grasp Komaeda’s still elevated hand. He squeezed it once, briefly, and pulled his hands back to wipe his clammy palms off his pants. “Sorry. I... I just had to make sure for a moment.”
“It’s fine...” Komaeda pulled his hand close, curling it against his chest. His worried smile remained on his face, and Hinata tried not to stare at the bandages wrapped around his head. There were scars there before, from previous hospital trips, and Hinata can only imagine how much worse they’d look now with where his head had bashed on a rock.
“Um... Hinata-kun?”
Hinata’s gaze snapped back.
“I’m sorry,” Komaeda spoke with such ease, and yet, so much regret. “I’m really, really sorry. I just... I feel like I should beg you for forgiveness.”
You should, but I won’t be happy when you’re like this. It’s...
It’s fine.
“Komaeda...”
Even if I won’t ever understand, even if we’re just back at square one again... Even so...
“I should’ve said this earlier,” Hinata said, forcing a smile. “Welcome back.”
Komaeda blinked at him, but he smiled once more. It actually wasn’t half-bad. It might’ve even been a little lovely.
I can keep trying a little while longer.
28 notes · View notes
quillsandtypos · 3 years
Text
Nighttime Confidence
Summary: reader and the band are having a sleepover in Julie's studio and the late hours are starting to get to the reader
Pairings: luke patterson x reader
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: lil bit of cussing and tickling and the reader doing a minorly dangerous stunt
"Oh my god I'm gonna fucking die," you groaned.
Luke pretended to be hurt. "Do you really not trust me that much?"
"Yes!"
"Maybe I'll just drop you on purpose," he offered.
"Don't you dare," you said, backing up a couple steps.
He grinned at you and pulled you back, "Trust me you're gonna be fine," he assured you.
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, you just didn’t trust that you were going to land on his shoulders, without breaking anything.
But your worries began to fade into more of an anticipation as your friends watched you with excited looks on their faces. Besides, you were doing it in front of a couch for a reason, right?
“Okay, I’ll do it,” you reluctantly agreed.
“Yes!” cried Reggie.
Julie just facepalmed, “I’m not sure if it would be better to watch or just look away.”
“Julie, you gotta watch, you’re the only alive person here who could save me,” you realized.
“Like I was gonna let this happen without recording it anyways,” she scoffed.
You shrugged, ”Fair enough.”
“Alright y/n you ready?” Luke asked, squatting lower to the ground.
You didn’t know if it was the fact that it was three am, or that the coffee was kicking in, or if your boyfriend's confident energy was contagious, but suddenly you felt like you could conquer anything. “I don’t know, are you ready Patterson?”
He quickly yet slyly winked at you before motioning to jump.
“Ready, set, GO!” Reggie yelled like a car girl in nascar.
You took off at a bit of a run before attempting to bounce off the pillows and onto Luke’s shoulders. As you soared through the air for a moment you could’ve sworn you heard Alex yell ‘I can’t watch this!’. But only seconds later you came in a rather harsh contact with the couch.
You groaned, but quickly got up so as to not worry any of your band mates.
“Y/n are you okay?” Alex worried.
“Yes Alex I’m fine, really, that’s why we put the couch there,” you giggled.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Luke asked.
“Technically none since usually that theory only applies to living people, but you’re holding up three,” you concluded.
Reggie couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I think she’s fine.”
Luke smirked at you. “Maybe a little too fine.”
“What is that supposed to mean beanie boy?” you teased back. You were getting used to your so-called midnight confidence.
“Oh so that’s how you wanna play it?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I’ve been playing it, it just took you a while to catch up,” you taunted. Julie snorted and gasped before slapping her hand over her mouth.
As your eyes went back to Luke, you realized your first mistake was taking your focus off of him considering he was running right at you. You yelped before vaulting the couch.
You now had it separating the two of you.
“Come on y/n which way you wanna go?” he sang.
The look he was giving made you want to melt into a puddle of embarrassed goop but that was not a realistic solution, so you would have to come up with something a little more tangible.
You looked around the area to scan for something helpful, the instruments were put away; the other three were on the other side of the room, and had not bothered to get up from the floor to watch, and the studio doors were shut.
Luke recognized your analyzing face. “You can’t outrun me, I’m a ghost remember?”
Your nighttime confidence had a second wave. “No, but I can try.” You vaulted back over the couch and went running as fast as you could in the opposite direction of Luke. You made it about five steps until you felt his hands wrap around your midsection. Another yelp escaped your lips.
He quickly threw you over his shoulder, not unlike a sack of potatoes.
You tried to sound angry but you couldn’t stop laughing for the life of you. “Put me down!” you insisted.
Luke pretended he couldn’t hear you, but suddenly you got an idea. You stretched downwards to taser his sides. The minute you did he nearly dropped you, but he managed to muffle his laughter.
“Now that’s just dirty,” Luke commented.
“Says the one holding me like a potato sack, asshole” you quipped.
“She’s got a point with that one,” Julie chirped up.
Luke pretended to scowl at her but she just stuck her tongue out at him.
Luke finally put you back down on the ground.
“Thank you?” You were highly suspicious that he gave up that easily, and from the looks on your bandmates faces it looked like they didn’t believe him either.
“You’re welcome,” he said innocently, but his wide mouthed grin showed an ulterior motive; though you weren’t quite sure what that was yet.
You cautiously moved back to the rest of your friends. You didn’t take your eyes off of him until you were safely planted in between Reggie and Julie.
“So if Luke promises not to attack anyone, do you guys wanna watch a movie?” Julie suggested, and threw him a fake glare.
“All of you guys were clearly entertained by that, so you can’t even pretend to be mad at me,” Luke concluded.
“No, I’m pretty sure that was just you,” Alex retorted.
“And I’m pretty sure we can,” Julie accidentally finished.
Luke held his hands up in surrender, realizing he was very outnumbered. “Alright, you’ve proved your point.”
“So movie night?” Reggie asked.
“Definitely, but what do we want to watch?” Julie wondered aloud.
“Can I vote for Star wars?” Reggie hinted.
“That’s fair, anybody else have any ideas?” she asked.
“Oh, we could watch an animated disney movie?” Alex suggested.
“Which one, isn’t there like a shit ton of them?” Luke looked to you and Julie for help.
“Yeah, they have a lot,” you confirmed.
“So either disney or star wars?” Alex echoed.
“Technically they are both disney since disney owns star wars now,” you pointed out.
“They what now?” Reggie gasped.
Alex and Luke exchanged a nervous glance.
“Oh, sorry, yeah they bought them out in 2012,” you explained.
“Well now we gotta watch a star wars movie to see if they’re even good anymore!” Reggie exclaimed.
Julie scrunched up her eyebrows before agreeing. “Alright, Star Wars movie it is, I guess.”
Soon enough you were all scattered across the studio floor in a big pile of blankets and pillows, as the Rise of Skywalker played on the 'hologram projector'. Who would’ve thought that movie night was the real use of it?
Reggie seemed to be enjoying himself. It did take a little bit of explaining and some googling to get him caught up on the twenty five years that he missed, but he seemed to be fully engrossed in the movie.
Julie had never seen any Star Wars movies, so she was a little lost at first, but she seemed to really like the characters. Alex was half asleep near Reggie, it seemed like he was enjoying the movie, but the drummer was obviously very tired. Luke was propped up against the back of the couch, and you were sitting next to Julie.
You looked back at him to exchange a quick glance before turning back to the movie. You saw Julie watch you with an amused look in her eyes.
“What?” you softly asked.
“Go!” Julie whisper yelled to you.
“What?” you whispered.
“Go sit with your boyfriend.” She motioned back at him.
“No, I told you I was going to sit with you,” you insisted.
She narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you making googly eyes at him?” she asked.
You pulled your jaw back up. “I was not!” you defended.
Julie grinned, “Trust me, I think I can manage by myself up here, go back with him.”
“I’m not just gonna abandon you like that,” you argued.
“Y/n I love you, but so help me if you don’t go sit with him you are going to end up as a ghost really soon,” Julie threatened.
Not really wanting the wrath of Julie upon you, you picked up your blanket to move beside Luke.
“Hey princess,” he greeted you.
“Hi handsome.” You placed your head on his shoulder.
“You wanna know something y/n?” Luke asked.
“Mmm hmm, what’s that?”
“Reggie already watched this movie, he just wanted to watch it again because you seemed to like it,” Luke divulged.
You furrowed your brows. “You’re kidding right?”
“Nope, he binged all of them the second he heard there were more.”
“Wow, we must be really good friends if he’s willing to give up the first trilogy for me,” you commented. While it was intended as a joke, it didn’t mean you didn’t see the sentiment behind it.
“We all love you, you know that. And you love us,” he whispered.
“That’s true, and most especially you.” You placed a quick kiss on his lips but even the small moment gave you a warm feeling through your body.
“Hey y/n?” he asked.
“Yeah?”
“Do you remember earlier?”
You thought for a moment about what the hell he could be talking about until you saw the devilish smirk on his face, and you realized that you had yet again made a mistake.
Before you could make a move to get away he had already pulled you on top of him.
He pulled your shirt up slightly.
“Don’t you dare tickle me,” you threatened.
“I mean I wasn’t going to do that, but now that you mention it.” As he trailed off you felt a hand start to glide across your stomach and your breath hitched in your throat.
“I whihll khihhill yhohhuhu,” you giggled out. You were trying to be as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t wake Alex.
“You do know I’m a ghost, right?” he reminded you.
You choose not to answer that one in favor of holding your mouth shut so your laughter would stay in.
“You know what ghosts are really good at though-” he paused; you were absolutely certain you could hear his smile.
“Ghosting.”
You felt his fingertips lightly make contact with your hip bones. You tried to squirm away but Luke was strong, and he had a good hold on you. But when you felt his hands start to glide across your hips, you grew desperate enough that you managed to roll off of him.
He looked rather smug at your giggly smile as you laid on the floor.
“I hate you,” you breathed out.
Luke almost let out a loud laugh at that one. “As tempting as it probably is, no you don’t.”
“No, no I don’t,” you admitted with a sparkle in your eyes.
You crawled up to him again. “Because I will always love you.”
He looked into your eyes with a serious demeanor. “I love you too, always.”
“Good, so we both agree that we’re stuck with each other,” you joked.
Luke placed his head on your shoulder. “Forever and ever y/l/n.”
You rested yours against his. “Forever and ever Patterson.”
214 notes · View notes
spencerhotchner · 3 years
Text
finally safe {spencer reid}
summary: life has been unkind to you but when you feel like giving up, Spencer is right there to help you out.
warnings: depression, suicide attempt, suicide planing, drug abuse, a lot of angst, swearing and my bad grammar (if u find anything else pls lemme know)
word count: 1.1k
A/N: this isn’t my finest work, i haven’t written in a while and i wrote this to comfort myself, this is how i wish it was to my gf who committed suicide last year. this is fully based on her story and what she told me about it. if you are struggling, pls reach out! there’s always another way.
Tumblr media
As soon as you opened your eyes, you felt disappointed. Damn, when would it work? The amount of pills you took we’re supposed to have killed you, and yet you have woken up. Again. You’re starting run out of options, you’re staring to get desperate. The world is suffocating you.
You looked to the clock to see what time was it and how late were you. Since you did not even plan on waking up, no alarms were programmed. As soon as you saw it was almost noon, you freaked out.
“Fuck!” you curse to yourself.
Hurrying up to check your phone to see if the team needed anything. A few missed calls from Hotch, Spencer and Emily, Spencer had also sent text messages.
Spence: y/n, is everything good? 8:38
Spence: you’re never this late 9:00
Spence: y/n????? 9:52
Spence: i’m worried pls answer 10:12
A smile was inevitable, you loved him too much and it sure felt good to know he wanted to know how you were doing. However, as fast as the smile came it disappeared, you did not want him to worry about you, you did not want him to be stuck with you. He deserved so much more, in your mind. You felt the tears coming as you started typing.
You: hi, spence! i’m good, i think i have the flu or something... don’t worry! 11:54
You: i’m about to call hotch about it. thanks for checking in tho! 11:54
Spence: oh i’m sorry to hear that :( hope u gonna feel fine soon, i already miss you here! 11:56
Truth is, you wouldn’t call Hotch. Not knowing he would noticed something was up, he always did, after all, he was good at his job. You sent a quick text to him, letting him know that you’re sick, that should be enough since you’re never absent at work.
You blocked your phone starring at the ceiling. This night, it would be this night. You were sure about your decision, you highly doubt anyone could change your mind. You looked at the bathroom seeing your pills, those didn’t work. But maybe the will tonight, you thought.
You ordered your favorite lunch, penne con pesto alla genovese and enjoyed every single piece of it, after all it would be your last one. Doing stuff for the last time made you enjoy them, more then you have in a pretty long time. You liked it.
Soon enough you started writing letters, to each one of your close friends and boyfriend. You knew they loved you and knew they would miss you, that is why you want to assure they will not take it up on them. They needed to understand that your pain, unfortunately, was grater than that. It was unbearable. When you were done with the last one, which as Spencer’s, there were tears all over the paper. You laughed a bit thinking he would profile it.
Now, what kind of medicine would kill me? you began thinking. You freaking took 10 pills of clonazepam and did not work, maybe 20? That was the exact moment you looked at the balcony. That’s it. That was perfect, the chances of survival would be less than 10%.
You spent the whole afternoon eating ice cream and watching Friends, laughed a bit and enjoyed your last moments. It was about 8 p.m when Spencer called you. You smiled a bit about it, his voice.
“Hey, just wanted to check up on you.” he says. “I’ve been kinda worried about you.”
You’re heart aches, you did not want this. You did not want him feeling stuck with you and your bad feelings.
“Hi, um, I’m good, Spence.” you answer. “Just kinda tired.”
“You sure, baby?” you can picture the exact face he’s doing.
“Yes, Spencer, I’m sure.” you say and laugh. “I... I love you, like, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Y/N...” you can hear his voice getting worried.
“Don’t forget that, please. I’m so thankful for everything you have done do me and for all we lived.” you can feel the tears coming, but you would not let it show. He did not need to worry.
“I could never forget it, Y/N.” he lets a sigh out of his mouth. “Why are you saying this?”
“Because I am, it’s important to tell the people you love how much you love them, you know?”
“Right...” he says. “I love you.”
“Love you more, bye, Spence.”
As quick as ever you hang up the phone, the tears started to come as heavy as they could. Why was all this happening to you? It had to be right now. You had to go right now. You couldn’t take it anymore.
You took a look in the mirror just to see yourself once more. Observe every single detail, those that you hate and understand why you’re doing it. You needed to see how bad and broken you looked, you deserved the pain. Then you walked to your balcony, staring a bit at the sky, it look beautiful tonight. You put one of your legs out and the other one is still inside, while you’re looking at how tall your apartment is placed in.
The concentration you had in your actions was so big that you did not notice when your front door had been opened. Spencer walked, calmly towards you. Trying not to scare his girlfriend, so that she wouldn’t fall.
“Babe...” you hear. “Look at me, please.”
You close your eyes as you turn to face your boyfriend. As soon as you open your eyes you regret doing it. His eyes looked sad and disappointed. He was disappointed at you.
“Just... Just go, Spence. You don’t have to watch this.” you say.
“Y/N, just... Please get down.” he comes a little bit closer. “I wanna help you, I wanna be here for you and I can’t do it if you’re not here.” takes another step. “I can’t loose you, I can’t live without you, Y/N...”
“I-I can’t do this anymore, Spence...” you let a sob out. “It hurts too much...”
You close your eyes once again, trying to stop the tears. You didn’t have time to open your eyes before you felt two hands on you, bringing you back to your apartment, and then hugging you tightly.
“I-I’m so sorry” you say while sobbing. “I-I...”
“Shh, it’s ok...” your boyfriend tells you while hugging you even more. “I’m right here, and I won’t go anywhere. I love you, Y/N.”
You tried to say something but nothing would come out if not sobs. You felt Spencer’s arms holding you so tight and you felt like home, like for the first time in a while, things would be ok. Maybe, suicide wasn’t the way, after all. You open your eyes looking
“Thank you, Spence.” you were finally able to say something. “Thank you, for doing this.”
“There’s nothing in this world that I wouldn’t do for you.” he says. “Let me... Let me help you, please.”
You nod, resting your head on his chest, finally feeling like you had been found. Finally feeling safe.
271 notes · View notes
Text
I certainly won’t say anything against any of the abuse/trauma that Lily claims to have faced in her own life, but as somebody who is both on the outside of her life looking in AND has had a lot of experience with trauma survivors that I KNOW that I can trust. Lily… …just does not seem like she has lived through, or at the very least even BEGUN to process (let alone “survive through”), the trauma that she may have. Her extremely selfish and hyperaggressive/often abusive behavior, the way she talks about mental health and more often than not grooming her fans into trusting her more than even their OWN fucking therapists that they are seeing IN REAL LIFE, her dismissal of the VERY much real cycle of abuse that I have had to work very carefully in order to keep the trauma survivors that I have talked to from falling into it themselves, her hatred of forgiveness and sociopathic bloodlust for violence even against FUCKING. CHILDREN., etc.. All of that bullcrap is just not the fucking behavior of ANYBODY who has dealt with their trauma in healthy way. So the way I see it, in regards to Lily’s love of always using her alleged trauma as a shield from any and all criticisms that she may face, there are two options here. Option number one is that Lily is just fucking lying about all of this, which (and again I just want to stress that I am NOT SAYING that this option is true, this is JUST what I have seen and MY OWN thoughts on the matter) seems to have a lot of evidence backing it up. Considering how Lily‘s stories of how she became traumatized are always extremely contradictory and DEEPLY suspiciously different from the information that people are actually able to find OUTSIDE of just what Lily says about the events that traumatized her. And also, as I just said, seeing as how Lily acts NOTHING like a lot of trauma victims typically act like, even early on in their recoveries. And is typically the behavior rather found in people that CAUSE trauma, I.E. the abusers. Which Lily has also shown a GREAT deal of extremely abusive and grooming behavior towards most people around her, NO MATTER how close it is that they are.
Or we have option number two. And that option is that Lily has, for some unknown fucking reason, refused to get any and all treatment for the extreme narcissistic personality disorder and the dangerously hyperaggressive, violent fantasies that have been brought on by her psychopathy that somehow her trauma from abuse ended up causing her for, wait for it, some unknown fucking reason. And those highly debilitative mental disabilities have been slowly eating her fucking alive for the past Few. Fucking. DECADES. Let’s just saying that if this option is true Lily is approaching even MORE extremely self—destructive and bizarre/creepy behavior that will make her creating fucking pie charts and graphing out all of her relationships in some desperate attempt to convince herself that she’s wasn’t an horrifically abusive, obsessively fucking controlling, vile partner in them seem like something fucking sane to do. However, while (again) I DO NOT want to say that Lily has never experienced trauma or abuse in her entire fucking life and has been just making it the fuck up to feed her own extreme, self—destructive narcissism out of twisted, fucked up sense of self—preservation. I do feel the need to say that (again) as somebody who has worked with trauma survivors MYSELF, it is extremely unlikely and I would go so far as to say exceedingly RARE even, for a person who has been an actual victim of abuse or trauma to exhibit the behavior that Lily has been doing. 
And that‘s exactly why I think that Lily‘s videos in which she discusses trauma and mental health to be so horrifically toxic and dangerous. Because, whether she has actually experienced trauma/abuse or not, whether it is option one or option two. It is all too VERY fucking clear to me that Lily is a deeply disturbed and unwell person to say the least. And somebody like that, somebody who just refuses to get the help and treatment that they so OBVIOUSLY fucking need for their completely (for lack of a better term) FRAGMENTED fucking mind, should NOT be claiming to be in an experienced position on giving advice about how best to deal with mental health and the best ways to recover from one’s trauma, let alone an fucking AUTHORITATIVE one!!!
Submitted by Anonymous
19 notes · View notes
plaidbooks · 3 years
Note
Hey 🥰 could I request working with Sonny and you two used to date but broke up, you remained friends but never really got over each other and your end up going through a pretty bad time with work or personal stuff and you’re struggling mentally and not eating etc and when he realises he comes over to your place to check ur ok and you just breakdown and he tells u he still loves u and that it’ll always be u 🥺
Some Space
A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long! I was so burnt out of writing, but I'm here now! I hope that this makes up for the wait!
This takes place before Sonny joins SVU--and his timeline is a little wonky to make this fic work, but oh well.
Tags: death, shootings, blood, disassociation
Words: 2590
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @redlipstickandplaid @reading--mermaid @dreamlover31 @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell
“So, do you wanna move in together?” Sonny asked while you cuddled on his couch. You turned to look at him, and his face fell as he saw your expression. “…you don’t?”
You sighed. “It’s not like I don’t love you, Sonny, because I do. It’s just…I mean, we’re still in our mid-20s. I want a little more, uh, freedom before I settle down, you know?”
“I’ve known since we started dating in high school that I was in for the long term. I was thinking of maybe…I don’t know, getting married…having kids…. Now that we’ve settled into patrol, I thought it would be the perfect time to take the next step,” he muttered.
You sat in silence, debating. You loved Sonny, and you did want to marry him…someday. Not right now. You’ve barely lived any of your life; hell, you lived at home still. Sonny had his own apartment, but you didn’t want to go from living with your parents to living with him. You wanted space, time to figure out who you really were. And you didn’t think you could do that with Sonny. If he couldn’t give you your independence, if you both wanted different things, then you were going to have to break up with him, as much as it would break your heart to do it.
“Listen, Sonny, I need to live my own life for a little bit, discover myself. I-it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise—”
“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked softly.
Hearing the words out loud made tears form in your eyes. “I…yes, I guess I am. At least until I find myself…. I’m so sorry, Sonny. I’ll always care about you. We can still be friends?”
“Y-yeah…okay, sure. I…yeah…” he trailed off, unwrapping his arms from around you. You both sat there awkwardly, and the tension was thick. You stood, moving to grab your jacket, and Sonny followed you to the front door.
“This isn’t…goodbye. I promise you, Sonny Carisi. It’s just—”
“See you later?” he finished.
You gave him a smile, and a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah. I’ll see you later.”
*****************************
That was months ago now, and you had transferred out of Staten Island patrol, unable to see Sonny every day, those big, sad blue eyes trying to avoid your gaze. Now, you worked for Brooklyn, an officer in their Homicide department. You settled in quickly, and you found a cheap-ish apartment in Brooklyn.
It was nice living by yourself, and you highly enjoyed it. You missed Sonny dearly, but you thought it was too soon to reach out. Your heart still strained when you thought about the breakup, so you kept your distance. But it was getting easier and easier to let those feelings fade away in your new line of work. Brooklyn Homicide was a lot busier than Staten patrol, and you got along great with your partner, Drew Zimmer.
“We keep making these busts, and we’re gonna make detective in no time,” Drew said, grinning at you.
You smiled back as you shoved a cuffed perp in the backseat of your squad car. “Then we get paid halfway decently for doing much of the same as we are now.”
“Plus, normal clothes! Not this suffocating police uniform.”
You agreed, then moved to the front seat, Drew sliding in behind the steering wheel. You and Drew were close, but you never crossed a line. He was engaged to his high school sweetheart, something that made you slightly sad. Sonny was your high school sweetheart, and you wondered how different your life would’ve been if you moved in with him.
*************************
As Drew predicted, you both made detective later that year. You were officially the youngest detective, having moved up the ranks so quickly. You both went out for drinks to celebrate, and you had the wild impulse to invite Sonny. It had been almost a year since you broke up, and you could finally think about it without tearing up. But would he be okay with it? You fought the idea, putting your phone back in your pocket.
“Everything okay?” Drew asked, seeing the look on your face.
You shot him a fake smile. “Fine, fine. Just…thinking. Don’t worry about it.”
He gave you a hard, knowing look, as if he could read your mind. You had told him about Sonny, but you didn’t want to bring the celebration down. Instead, you took your glass and cheers him before taking a sip.
You jumped when your phone rang, and you pulled it out of your pocket. Your Captain’s name flashed across the screen, and you answered with a brisk voice. Drew watched and listened, then sighed when you said that you were both on your way.
“What do we got?” he asked, putting money on the table and standing.
You pulled your jacket on, heading for the door. “Body found in Prospect Heights. You okay to drive?”
“Sober as a fox.”
*************************
You both showed up quickly, seeing the officers who called in the body. Drew parked, and you made your way over. One of the officers started walking you both through the details when a gunshot rang out from down the alley that the body was in. Instinct took over as you hid behind a wall of the building, grabbing the closest officer to you and pulling them with you. Gunshots echoed in the alleyway as someone—or someones—unloaded on the entrance to the alley.
Drew was on the other side of the alleyway, and one of the officers was flat on their back, blood leaking from a bullet hole in their head. You ordered the officer next to you to call for backup, then waited until the gunfire stopped. Taking a chance, you snuck a quick peak. There were three individuals at the end of the alley, making their way quickly towards you.
You motioned to Drew, letting him know, before you reached your hand around the corner, firing blindly in an attempt to at least slow their advance. With the cover fire, Drew came halfway around the wall, actually aiming his gun as he fired.
“You got one of them,” he informed you. He got a few shots off before a bullet went through his neck, knocking him off his feet.
“Drew!” you screamed before whipping around the wall, shooting with deadly precision. There was only one man still standing—Drew must’ve got one before going down—and you shot him quickly. Then you dropped to your knees by Drew’s rasping form. You ripped off your jacket, pressing it to the bloody wound.
“Stay with me Drew, do you hear me? You have a fiancée to go home to,” you ordered, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. “Call a bus!” you yelled at the officer, who was staring in shock.
Drew reached up, grabbing your wrist. “T-tell Steph I—I love her…please,” he gasped, voice weak.
“You’re going to tell her yourself when you see her, okay?” you said, trying to smile at him.
He shook his head. “Tell her…please. I-I—” Drew let out a death rattle before laying still.
“No! No! Live, damn you! You can’t die on me, Drew! W-we’re partners!” you screamed. But he was gone. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you leaned over him.
Time meant nothing as you knelt there. You had no idea when the ambulance arrived, nor when your Captain showed up. You’re not sure who moved you away from Drew’s lifeless body, and you didn’t notice how you ended up at the hospital. You were still covered in Drew’s blood as the nurses ran tests, making sure you were uninjured. Your Captain ordered you to take time off, and you didn’t hear him, didn’t argue. You blinked and you were home, sitting on your couch, a bottle of whiskey in front of you.
***************************
IAB had been delayed by your Captain, but eventually, you had to face them. You couldn’t recall what they asked, or what you answered. The first emotion you felt in days was fleeting anger; the body that you had been called to investigate was left as bait. The men who shot at you, who killed your partner and an officer, were part of a gang, attempting to become cop killers. It was all a ruse to kill whichever cops arrived on the scene. Drew, one of the nicest, most genuine people you’ve known, was killed for street cred. But your anger soon disappeared, just like everything else.
***************************
It had been a week since Drew died in your arms. You visited his fiancée—she had already been informed of her love’s death—but you had to see her, pass on his final words. You held her as she cried, but you had no tears left. You felt nothing; you were just a shell. You stopped eating, stopped showering, stopped drinking, even water. You stopped sleeping; you just passed out nowadays, at any and all times of the day, wherever you happened to be laying. Your Captain called you a few times, trying to get you into therapy, but you never left your apartment.
One night, there was a knock on your door. You moved on phantom feet, unlocking and pulling your door open. You felt a dull punch to the gut as Sonny stood on your doorstep.
“H-hey doll…. I heard about your partner, and I thought I’d check up on you,” he said softly.
You nodded, not even attempting to fake a smile. “I’m fine,” you said in a monotone voice, ready to close the door on him. But Sonny was quicker.
“No, you’re not.” And with that, he pushed into your home. “When was the last time you’ve eaten? Washed? Brushed your teeth? Anything?”
You had no answer for him, and he quickly went to your kitchen, pulling open your fridge. Normally, you’d follow him, but instead, you went and collapsed on your couch, your legs unable to hold you up anymore.
Sonny came out with a glass of water. “Drink that,” he ordered, then stood there until you did. “Most of your food has gone bad; I’m going to run to the store. While I’m gone, I want you to shower, okay?”
You didn’t nod, made no indication that you had heard him. He ran a hand through his hair, hating seeing you like this.
“Okay…if you can shower, please do. Otherwise, just at least…drink another glass of water, okay?” He took the glass from your hand, refilled it, then came back and handed it to you. “I’ll be right back.”
You were unsure for how long he was gone; you dimly heard him come back. Sonny went to your kitchen with full grocery bags, and soon, the sounds and smells of cooking emanated from within. He came out soon after—or maybe it was longer, who knows?—with a plate of food.
When he noticed the full glass of water in your hand still, he shook his head, then sat next to you. You didn’t fight him as he fed you small bites, nor as he raised the glass of water to your lips. You tasted nothing as you ate half the plate. Sonny was afraid to make you sick with too much food at once, so he put the rest back in the kitchen. Then, he pulled you to the bathroom. He undressed you, then himself, before guiding you into the shower. The hot water brought you partly to your senses, just enough to feel Sonny’s hands washing your hair and body.
“You may have to get your hair cut short—it’s pretty damaged from lack of care,” he muttered, trying to work the knots out with his fingers. You nodded gently, letting him care for you. Once done, he wrapped you in a towel, patting you dry. Then, he took your toothbrush and put paste on it before handing it to you, lifting your hand to your mouth.
“Brush,” he softly ordered, and you did.
After finishing up in the bathroom, Sonny tugged you to your room, where he dressed you in your pajamas. Then he pushed you down into the bed.
“Sleep, okay? I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.
You laid on the pillow, and fresh tears came to your eyes. “He died in my arms,” you muttered.
Sonny’s expression softened. “I heard, doll. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Just rest now.”
As promised, he sat next to you until you drifted off, your hand in his.
*******************************
Sonny practically moved in with you after that, just until you could take care of yourself. He took you to a therapist, and a hair salon. He made you meals and made sure you drank water. At first, he would shower with you and made sure you brushed your teeth; those were the two things you started doing yourself the quickest. It took you a few weeks to break out of the shock-induced disassociation you were experiencing. Eventually, you started helping Sonny cook in your kitchen, and doing small chores around your apartment.
“Thank you, Sonny, for everything,” you said one night while you were eating dinner.
He smiled at you. “Of course, doll. I care about you.”
“I care about you, too. I—I should’ve called you earlier. I was just afraid that it was too soon.”
His smile faltered slightly. “I understand. I…it’s probably still too soon….”
“What do you mean?”
Sonny put his fork down, looking everywhere but at you. “Look, I’ve…I thought that enough time had passed, especially when I heard about your partner—” you flinched at the mention of Drew— “but when you opened the door and I saw how much it affected you, I realized that…I still love you, have always loved you. You were literally wasting away, and I couldn’t stand by and watch.”
You froze, not in shock at him, but at yourself. Because hearing the words out loud, you knew that you loved him, too.
“I’m sorry; you don’t need this right now. The last thing you need on your mind is—”
“I love you, too, Sonny. God, I love you so much,” you replied, throwing your arms around him, and leaning against his side.
He hesitated a moment before he wrapped an arm around your back. “Are ya sure? You’re going through some pretty traumatic stuff right now. Your emotions going a little haywire.”
“I’m sure. I-I was afraid to call you because I couldn’t handle seeing you. Because I never got over you.”
Sonny nodded. “I never got over you, either. Look, if you still want your space, I can live with that, as long as I don’t lose you again. I never want to lose you again.”
“I don’t want to lose you, either. I love you; I want to marry you one day. Let’s just…see how it goes, okay? I’ve learned a lot just in the year we’ve been apart—”
He cut you off with a kiss, his lips soft against yours. He felt so familiar, so much like home, and you realized how much you had really missed him. You kissed him back, holding him to you. He leaned his forehead against yours, lips brushing over yours.
“We’ll figure out the details later. Right now, I just want to get to know you again,” he breathed.
You nodded. “Please, yes. I want to remember you, Dominick.”
He pulled you closer, promising his whole self to you in a searing kiss.
65 notes · View notes
thefanficmonster · 3 years
Note
I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)
When you post, post answering here please.
Again, much love,
📚🌻
Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)
The words dear  📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!
What happens in the gym....
Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC
Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊
Genre: Angsty Romance
“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.
“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.
“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.
“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“
“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“
It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.
Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.
Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go. 
He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.
Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?
Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.
And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.
Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.
“Winters I-“
“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch
She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”
“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.
“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“
“Winters, please...“
“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“
He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.
“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”
“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.
It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.
“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“
Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening
“Sir, I-“
“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“
She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”
He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.
She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”
Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”
Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.
Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.
When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“
He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.
“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”
She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”
Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.
119 notes · View notes