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#what it was forced to be this is not a healthy situation or a relationship. Peter comes out better at the end and would be as good as dead
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So if Amy isn’t in the film, who would give the humanity speech to shadow?
Hi Hon❤️✨
I’ve shared this thought before, but I’m more than happy to talk about it again. I definitely think—and strongly feel—that moment needs to go to Sonic. Not Amy Rose. Please understand that this is not a hate post towards the character. This post is meant to be a reflection of the characters that we know and how they would respond the best to an emotional situation.
The conversation that Amy Rose had with Shadow worked because we got to grow up with her. Through a progression of years, we’ve watched Amy Rose go from cheerleader to becoming her own hero. We’ve had the pleasure of seeing her love the world around her over time. We’ve seen her form relationships with people, we’ve seen her create a life for herself everywhere she goes, we’ve seen her tag along on adventures and prove her worth, and we’ve seen her experience the good and bad that come with life as both a heroine and a civilian. That’s why the moment worked so well in Sonic Adventure 2; we got to grow up with her throughout the games and experience life through her perspective. And because we got that perspective of her “growing up,” her conversation felt much more meaningful in order to trigger a locked memory in Shadow.
This moment wouldn’t work in the films. We wouldn’t have the same relationship that we’ve formed with Amy Rose in a 2hr+ movie as we did in a span of 30-odd years. It wouldn’t feel natural and heartfelt either. The moment would feel like a forced interaction that pays homage to the games. However, this interaction would work best with Sonic Wachowski because we are watching him grow up. We’ve seen how Sonic Wachowski handles the bad and the good in SCU through a progression of years.
This moment needs to come from Sonic. He will have the a level of compassion that Shadow would need in order to snap back into reality. Believe it or not, Sonic also has an understanding of what it’s like to be compared to as something dangerous. The whole point of Sonic remaining hidden for years (from both humans and other species) is because of his abilities. His power is controlled by emotion; when unchecked, it can be dangerous. But when controlled, he can master it. That needs to be a conversation with Shadow, considering he’s viewed as both a weapon and hope for humanity.
Sonic also has an understanding of what it’s like to lose someone that he loves because of him existing. It’s a guilt that resides in both of them where it feels like it’s their fault for the loss of a life. Granted, their experiences are different in how they both loss their loved ones. No one will understand that better, and relate to Shadow better, other than Sonic.
Sonic will have a better understanding of how humans function in the modern world. We’ve seen a healthy balance in how humans respond to extraterrestrials coming to earth. The humans have either welcomed them with open arms, acknowledge their existence and move on, or try and steal their power. Sonic knows the wide range of response; he can vouch on the behalf of those that are kindhearted.
As much as I love Amy Rose, I don’t believe that this moment should come from her. This moment needs to come from Sonic. And that’s okay. Don’t include her into the film to act as an Easter egg. Include her for the right reason. Give her a proper moment that outshines that one. I guarantee you that she is so much more than that. I hope that this answers your question, my dear.
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adamarks · 1 day
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The thing is. Not gonna put this on fox’s post bc it’s a tangent. Anyway the thing is Ed and Stede are kinda codependent? What they are, though, is a) two animals who have pair bonded and b) ed seems to have more of an actual clinical depiction of codependency.
The big thing about codependency is that it’s not actually “one partner keeps the other partner good and pure and keeps them from being Mean and Bad.🥺” Codependency’s whole thing is control. It’s a saviour complex. And THE THING IS? It doesn’t work. You cannot “save” a person from being themself, from engaging in their addiction, from hurting themself. They need to make the executive decision to change, the codependent person cannot do that for them. Thus it becomes a cycle. Try to save -> see that they’re not doing what you want -> get angry/upset/punish yourself for not succeeding/sink with them -> rinse and repeat.
Izzy? Now HE is codependent on Ed. You can be codependent on someone who is perfectly fine. He tries to control Ed’s every move, doesn’t succeed, and inevitably gets angry. If you pick up an on god actual textbook, or like any Melody Beattie book, you will see that he is the very definition of codependency.
Cycling back to Ed, though. I do think he’s codependent. You don’t kill your alcoholic father to protect your mother. We don’t mysteriously never see his mother again and know that he went to sea at a young age for no reason. He tried to save her, it backfired. A woman telling her child that they’ll never have better because god decided they’d be miserable is not ready to be saved, is not ready to get out of an abusive situation.
Then, of course, there’s Jack. Jack is eternally getting Ed to do shit for him. To help him because he’s so helpless uwu or whatever. A douchebag who can’t seem to take care of himself and is on the hunt for someone to cater to him??? Mmm yummy! A codependent’s dream! In the episode, he caters to Jack’s every whim, makes excuses for him, and finally does the “sinking with him” thing when he inevitably pushes too far. This is partly because of Jack’s manipulation, partly because that’s what Ed’s family situation had been.
Now that we’ve established all of that, back to my original point: you don’t stop being codependent just because you get into a healthy relationship. I’m certain that a small part of the breakup era sads was that yet again he’d done something huge, sacrificed something big, and his efforts had gone wholly unwanted, just like what he’d done for his mom. And then there’s that fear. Ed knows the power that people he loves have over him. He knows how he acts in love! He knows how much it hurt when Stede left him! It makes sense, then, that he would run away when he sees Stede doing something he’s not too keen on (going full pirate party animal when Ed doesn’t want to be a pirate anymore). It’s fantastic that he’s running away though! He’s not doing shit he doesn’t want to do to humor Stede like he did with Jack. He’s not trying to force Stede to change directions. He’s not trying to control the situation! He’s seeing that he’s freaking out and he’s removing himself. Albeit poorly, but this is a step closer to being able to actually communicate things. He realizes he’s the variable he can change in dynamics.
So to close up, yeah the relationship is maybe a little codependent but not in the way people seem like to say? It’s codependent in that Ed has codependency issues and those will inevitably crop up in any deeply intimate relationship you’re in. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be in a relationship. It doesn’t mean that the relationship is bad or unhealthy. It just means you’re a human person with shit to work on.
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 3 days
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Ettore SFW Alphabet
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Affection is an unfamiliar concept to Ettore. He is touch starved, but as someone who has spent his entire life being denied physical touch and having to claim it by force, his need for affection manifests itself in unusual ways; lingering too close to the object of his desire in order to catch a whiff of their scent, leaning into them if they brush past, etc. It's unsettling.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Ettore doesn't have friends. If he can push past his compulsions then he can co-exist in silent tolerance, but it will be tense.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Given the opportunity, Ettore would melt at being cuddled. His brain would go into overdrive at the sensation of being held and being pressed so close to someone. Unfortunately, he doesn't know how to approach it, so it doesn't happen.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Ettore has spent most of his adult life incarcerated, so he knows no domesticity beyond the routine that's enforced by the judicial system.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He has never been in a relationship. Ettore considers his dealings with a person finished as soon as he's blown his load.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
It's never once crossed his mind.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He has rare flashes of gentleness, where his desire for physical contact wins out and he allows himself to be more exploratory with the sensation of touch. Those moments are rare though, most of the time he just aggressively takes what he wants.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Ettore doesn't hug people enough to develop a style. He would appreciate the intimacy of it, but is never in situations that warrant it.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He is capable of love, but it would not manifest itself in a healthy way and he'd have to be under extreme duress to ever say it aloud.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Jealousy is one of Ettore's defaults. When he is attracted to someone, it taps into the primal part of his brain (which takes up the lion's share) and he views them as "his". Everyone else is a threat.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Ettore doesn't have much experience when it comes to kissing. On the rare occasions he does, it's messy and desperate, with lots of nips from his teeth.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Not interested.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Ettore starts his days early. He enjoys the quiet alone time it affords him.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Ettore is a night owl. He'll go to bed late and it takes him a while to fall asleep. Typically, he'll have a wank before he falls asleep.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He loves to run his mouth, when given the chance, but rarely says anything of substance about himself, and likely never will.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Ettore's temper is foul. He's quick to anger and slow to calm down.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
His penchant for lurking means he notices the little things. He makes note of every detail of the person he's interested in and remembers it.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Not a relationship exactly, the first moment he lays eyes on the object of his desire is something he remembers, simply because that's when the compulsion took hold.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He isn't protective in the sense that he cares about the other person's safety, he's protective in a way that means he doesn't want anyone else sniffing around you.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Literally none. He's not about that.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
His inability to take no for an answer. Jealousy, anger, lingering stares.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He works out to maintain his physique, but that's it.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
No, but he is consumed by the need to possess until he's had them.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Ettore's behaviour is a product of an abusive childhood.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Would not like someone who takes too much of an interest in him. He enjoys a little bit of anonymity, so any probing questions would scare him off.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He barely sleeps at all.
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Hola! Do you have any advice an Wars’s characterisation? For example, how you feel he reacts to stress or his go to methods of connecting with people?
felt like you were the guy to ask :)
I FEEL SO HONORED IM BEING ASKED RN ALKJSLKSJS OH MY GOD
so this is all for how I personally characterize him, this is just my take on him feel free to do your own thing :)
For me, he has different levels of stress. For more minor things he’s able to just force it aside and push through whatever he’s doing, but for bigger things he gets quieter and snappier. Like ‘normal’ level of stress where he’s trying to figure out a battle plan for the chain but maybe it’s too loud and it’s hard for him to focus? He’s going to grit his teeth and power through, he’s not happy about it but he’s going to get it done. War of Eras battle planning? Late at night? He’s still trying to power through but maybe this time there are silent tears. Twilight is laying there dying and Time is preoccupied so watching out for all the others is up to him? Shockingly he’s keeping it together despite this being terrifying and extremely stressful, because in life or death situations he forces himself to be the rock for everyone else. It’s only once the real ‘stress’ is actually over that he allows himself to feel it, and with large events like that he’s quiet. He doesn’t speak as much, he looks more exhausted than he normally allows himself to appear, and when he does speak it’s very flat or a bit snappier than usual, which of course he does feel bad about, but at the time he can’t control
Either way, he doesn’t want his own stress to stop him from doing what needs to get done so he doesn’t deal with it in a healthy way. He’s suppressing it both cases, but in one he successfully files it away for later (it will of course come to bite him in the ass later down the line), and in the other case it’s overwhelming after the actual event has passed, and it’s very noticeable in his behavior (this excludes how i think he’d react in more trauma related situations)
For connecting with others, I think he struggles with it a bit. He’s definitely an extrovert, for me he’s loved talking with people his whole life, but due to everything he’s been through he cannot stop himself from mentally marking down peoples flaws and weaknesses and he feels bad about it, because here’s this person he’s trying to get closer to and his brain is like “here’s how to defeat them if they try to attack you”. He does not trust easily, and he definitely acts and presents himself a certain way towards people he doesn’t know/doesn’t know very well that is VERY different from how he presents himself around friends. I think he really connects with the others through shared experiences where the others do something kind for him they didn’t have to do, or do something to protect him. Like protecting him in a battle, or tossing him an extra fruit, or including him in little activities they’re doing, or even standing up for him in a bar. It helps him feel like maybe he can trust them. He is a kind person and he does nice things for the others in return, but he really connects with them when they’re doing something for him, because it makes him feel like he can allow himself to be closer to them
His trust cannot be earned with words, it must be earned through action and time
I also write him as a person who grew up very used to friendly, safe touch, and whose love language used to be giving hugs to show affection and care. He’s not the best with his words, and hugs used to be easier for him but because of trauma he can’t do that anymore. He has a very complicated relationship with physical touch now, and there are times where he really needs it but can’t actually handle it so he’ll sit away by himself. Over the years he’s gotten better with being able to allow himself to give out hugs or accept them, but that’s not an easy way for him to connect with people any more, so he connects with them and shows he cares through little acts. Wind ripped a hole in his tunic again? It’s fixed by morning, and Wind always just catches Warriors putting his needle and thread away. Wild’s scars are aching and he ran out of lotion somehow? There’s magically more in the bottom of his bag, and Warriors is seen walking away from it. Legend woke up from a nightmare and can’t fall asleep? Warriors will start reading his book aloud if he’s the one up on watch, and while Legend will probably never verbally thank him for it, it’s the fact that he’s able to go back to sleep within fifteen-thirty minutes that lets Warriors know it works and Legend is grateful for it
I headcanon sometimes it’s hard for him to physically connect with the others, but he shows his support and love in other little ways and connects with them that way :)
anyways sorry this took me so long to type out, I really hope it’s coherent and helpful :) and again, this is just how I personally characterize him this isn’t like, the only way to characterize him by any means, feel free to do whatever you’d like !!
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dairyfreenugget · 17 days
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I could count the amount of original stories of mine that don't have horror elements on one hand and idk what that says about me
#thylacines can talk#actually i do know it says mmmmm making horror monster ocs is fun#outside of my fandom ocs my ocs and original stories arre dominated by horror elements and religious themes oopsie daisy#i might eventually post about them but the hk brainrot is going strong#but a friend of mine got a commission for me of my doomer human x monster yaoi so you'll see my Main Babygirls soon 🥰#hand in unlovable hand they're fucked and weird and it's an unhealthy relationship and it'll never work as everything is stacked against#them yet each other is all they have and if being together means their death then so be it. Peter should have probably ran. Should have left#would be better off for the majorth of the story had he never met it yet the two are so alike. it's the first thing that's ever unnderstood#him. it's the first 'person' that's ever truly cared for him. And even if it has flaws and his life was ruined by things beyond his#comprehension and he risks his life he's not willing to let go of the only person whos truly seen him and loved him. Who is willing to tear#its world apart and die for him. There are no happy endings here. They were doomed from the start. But at least they have each other.#also tfw your life and 'family' sucks so much that a literal monster who manipulated you and used your body to carry out ruthless murders is#nicer to you than your goddamn brother and friends. like damn dude.#I honestly think if Slaughter was born a human their relationship would be great for both of them they truly fit together like two puzzle#pieces. two outcasts who have so much in common and find comfort in one another. but because of the circumstances of Slaughter's nature and#what it was forced to be this is not a healthy situation or a relationship. Peter comes out better at the end and would be as good as dead#if not for meeting Slaughter so there's a silver lining in all of this but goddamn dude. the bullshit it took to get there.#The fact that his life was so bad literally getting possessed by a monster and almost being murdered numerous times and an insane amount of#trauma and bbeing a target for monsters for the rest of your life literally IMPROVED IT my guy truly cant catch a fucking break 😭😭
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niishi · 1 year
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Zoro: *doesn't want to be perceived*
The fan base: *poking him with sticks* have an emotional breakdown already. Why'd he stop moving *shakes the box vigorously*
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cosmic--marmalade · 2 years
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Ooooo ranting in the tags again because have nowhere else to hide from my ex on here
#DIFFERENT EX!#EX FROM THE POLYCULE!#MOTHERFUCKER REFUSES TO HAVE A BOUNDARIES CONVERSATION WITH ME ABOUT WHAT IS#AND IS NOT OKAY TO TALK ABOUT WITH HIM ANYMORE BASED ON THE PERSON FROM THE POLYCULE HE#LITERALLY CHOSE OVER ME!#BITCH IS STILL LOVE YOU PLATONICALLY AND ROMANTICALLY I STILL WANT YOU IN MY LIFE#IF YOU CANNOT TELL ME THE BASICS OF HOW I CAN NAVIGATE OUR RELATIONSHIP ANYMORE#BUT THEN ACT LIKE EVERYTHING IS FINE AND STILL SEND ME SHIT ON HERE#WE CANNOT BE FRIENDS!#I'm gone bitch!!!!!!!!#blocked for an inability to communicate!!!!!!!!!#YOU CANNOT HAVE YOUR CAKE AN EAT IT TOO!!! YOU CANNOT RELY ON ME FOR EMOTIONAL STABILITY AND REFUSE TO TELL ME#HOW I CAN HAVE A HEALTHY FRIENDSHIP WITH YOU!!!#i'm seeing how long it takes him to notice that i have him blocked on here#not gonna lie i want to rip into him Now#confront him and push him about this because it's been since September!!!!#YOU LET YPURSELF BE PUT INTO A SITUATION WHERE YOU WERE FORCED TO CHOOSE AND YOU DID NOT!!!!#CHOOSE ME!!!#YOU FUCKING LITERALLY SAID YOU WANTED A FUTURE WITH ME!!!#A BIG GREEN COUCH WITH ALL FOUR OF OUR NAMES PAINTED INTO FLOWES IN THE KITCHEN!!!!!#YOU SAID YOU'D MAKE LOVE TO ME AND HERE WE ARE#I NEVER EVEN GOT TO KISS YOU YOU FUCKING COWARD!!!!!!!#YOU REFUSED TO COME HERE FOR ME! FOR OUR BOYFRIEND (also now ex)!!!! BUT YOU CAN GO AND GET YOUR DICK WET IN VEGAS#WITH A GUY WHO DIDN'T EVEN WANT TI BE POLY IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!!#F U C K Y O U#we were going to have the big green couch...we were going to be a family#i wish I could hate him
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vanteguccir · 3 months
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Atelophobia | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N has suffered with an eating disorder for years, but lately, - because of the some "fans" and social media - her insecurities have been taking her to a more than dangerous path, which she couldn't get out without help.
Warning: anorex!a, eating disorder, comparison, self sabotage, self hatred, panic attack, pure angst... PLEASE read with caution!
Requested?: No.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
PS.: This is not intended to trigger anyone or an instruction of how to lose weight. Read at your own risk.
PS. 2: Written by a girl - me - who goes through this every day.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Atelophobia; the fear of not being good enough.
This was one of the millions of fears and problems that haunted Y/N's mind. Her head convinced her a long time ago that she simply wasn't enough; for her school teachers, for her classmates, for her friends, for her parents, past boyfriends... not even for herself.
This led her to listen to what others said and thought about herself since she was very young, the desire to be perfect and within society's standards in all aspects of a human being consumed her; personality, thoughts, knowledge... body.
She was told all the time how she should behave, act, and be. She was just a child, but that didn't seem to matter to those who did it, clogging her up with responsibilities and comparisons.
One thing led to another. Her desperation to be the best at everything started to include her own body. "Fat" was the first word people used to describe her. She had no control over the situations around her, but she had control over her weight.
Y/N was always the biggest girl in her class, and her classmates seemed to love reminding her of that; often being excluded from work groups, forgotten in groups of friends, or not chosen in any team during Physical Education classes.
Until the year when everything changed. During the school vacation, she decided to change, intending to return to school as a new girl. The new cycle started well, Y/N saw a nutritionist, cutting out all fatty foods from her routine and consuming only healthy ones. She started going to the gym daily, doing the recommended training time. All of this led her to lose a significant amount of weight.
Soon, the vacation was over, and with that, the negative comments from her classmates were replaced by positive comments. Girls asking what she had done to lose weight like that, searching for advice and seeing her as a miracle. Boys saying how changed and prettier she looked.
How could she not fall in love with her own illness?
So, that made her feel good. Too good... her mind began to yearn to become thinner, more beautiful, just to hear more from others. And then the healthy diet and the one hour training at the gym were no longer enough for her. She needed more if she wanted to be better.
Y/N then intensified her training, staying at the gym for 2 hours per day, doing more reps with more weight. She crossed out several foods from the list of permitted that her nutritionist had made, choosing for herself the ones she thought were ideal, until it had almost nothing left.
Her brain self-sabotaged so that she wouldn't go out with her friends, because they would definitely want to eat somewhere and she wouldn't be able to.
She no longer participated in family dinners, creating excuses so as not to be forced to sit at the table and eat.
Her mind convinced her that she wasn't thin enough to satisfy her boyfriends' sexual and non-sexual desires, which made her pull away during or at the beginning of any relationship she had until the guy got tired, or she simply ended it.
She spent hours on the internet, searching for sensational diets that reduced daily calories to 500 or less, promising extraordinary weight loss. In addition to getting on the scale at least 4 times a day, hoping for a miracle every time she looked at the numbers.
Y/N replaced her eating schedules with random hobbies like drawing, learning a new instrument, or picking flowers from her garden to make flower crowns, occupying her time and mind.
Some things scared her, her period hadn't come in months, clumps of hair fell out every time she ran her hands through it. Her vision went dark at least 3 times a day. Her body shivered from the complete cold of her insides, and her stomach hurt more than usual.
But she had to suffer them alone since she had no one to talk to about, always alone.
Until Y/N met Matt.
Matt was the boy who made her want to get better. He encouraged her to look for a hospital that fit her preferences, where Y/N finally began to receive psychiatric and psychological care.
Her diet changed for the better, into foods that Y/N saw as safe. She did not abandon the gym but reduced the weight and time, maintaining her training just for the health of her muscles, as she had lost a lot of lean mass during her worst moment.
The calculator in her head finally stopped. Her eyes started seeing food as just food and not as the enemy. Her stomach craved for all the snacks she loved, and she finally ate them, without feeling guilty.
Matt was so thoughtful about her entire situation, having suffered himself with extreme anxiety from a young age. He could tell he understood in parts what it was like to live with a mental illness.
So he helped her maintain her healthy diet and eat all her daily meals within her limit - often opting to eat together in their room, since he knew the trepidation Y/N still felt about doing it in front of other people.
Matt praised her in every possible situation, trying not to be extreme but to show his intense love and support for the girl. All of that was helping her a lot.
Until it wasn't.
Y/N and Matt never hid their relationship from the public, the girl knew how famous her boyfriend was and how difficult it could be to keep their relationship hidden, they would be seen together at one time or another.
So it wasn't surprising that the girl appeared in some of the triplets' pictures sometimes, and that's what happened that Friday.
As usual, Nick posted a photo dump on the triplets Instagram to promote the publication of their new car video, and one of the photos was of Matt and Y/N, specifically one in which the two were sitting on the couch in their living room, the girl had her legs draped over Matt's thighs, while his tattooed arm wrapped tightly around her waist, huge smiles decorating their faces.
It was a cute photo, but apparently, that wasn't what fans thought.
While Matt and his brothers were in the kitchen, preparing healthy snacks - a habit they built through the girl, but which in the end helped everyone -, Y/N was lying on her bed in the room she shared with Matt, wrapped in too-warm covers, holding her phone with her right hand while her left hand wrapped around her stomach in an almost painful grip.
Her thumb scrolled through the comments screen beneath the post. Almost everyone there talking about her picture with Matt.
"Matt can do so much better than her"
"I really don't know what he saw in her"
"She's going to end up crushing him like that"
"I'll pay for the gym for her if that's the price for Matt to have a worthy girlfriend"
And so on, it was as if they knew all of Y/N's weaknesses.
Some fans of them could be cruel when they wanted to, and Y/N knew this by heart since seeing Nick crying several times because he was body shamed, or when she noticed Chris being quieter than usual after reading comments saying how loud he was and how that was unbearable.
Her heart was crushed every time she saw Matt suffer in silence until he couldn't hold it in any longer and finally cried in her lap for hours after reading people saying how insignificant and quiet he was in the videos.
Even though a huge mass of the fandom loved them with all their hearts and took care of them as much as the distance of a phone screen allowed, it still wasn't enough to swallow the hate comments.
But when it came to Y/N, more than half of the fandom turned against her. Maybe out of envy, but it was obvious that the girl didn't see it that way. She was convinced that they were right.
Her heart tightened as if someone was crushing it with their bare hands. The air seemed to escape her lungs, and the lunch she ate hours before seemed to want to go up her throat. Her fingers trembled as she held her stomach, feeling everything she had and didn't have there. Her eyes began to water, her lips quivering from the tears that wanted to escape.
Y/N quickly moved her finger to the back button, hoping to break out of the horrible cycle she was about to enter. A loud sob escaped her lips when, upon finally leaving the post, her feed reloaded, and a picture of a model that Y/N followed and admired appeared.
Comparison was her biggest enemy.
Negative thoughts about herself began to pollute her mind, everything around her becoming a fog. The sounds coming from the kitchen became muffled to her ears. Y/N's right hand - which was holding her phone - was gripping the device in such a way that her fingers turned white. Painful sobs escaped her mouth as her eyes remained fixed on the woman's perfect figure.
Why can't I be like her?
The longing for the sensations she felt when she starved hit her chest hard. The desire to want to be as thin as before - or more - filled her.
It didn't take long, and soon, the bedroom door was slowly opened, Matt's silhouette appearing behind it. His face was lit up with a smile - probably because of some joke his brothers made - while his right hand held a plate with two sandwiches.
His cheerful expression was replaced by a frown of concern. Matt quickly closed the door with his feet, walking towards the bed, haphazardly placing the plate on the nearest bedside table before sitting down on the mattress.
His hands flew to Y/N's waist, stopping over her own hand that was squeezing her skin with a force that was sure to leave it bruised.
The girl seemed to wake up from her trance, lifting her head and meeting Matt's calming - but worried - gaze. She cried harder as she imagined what her boyfriend would be thinking of her now.
Automatically, her mind started to play her current state, messy hair, swollen and red face, skin wet with tears, eyes half closed and mouth open, allowing sobs to escape from there.
"M-Matt-" Her sentence was cut off by a sob, her eyes closing tightly.
Matt took a deep breath, trying to process what to do next. His left hand - the one that didn't cover hers - slowly took the phone, taking it out of his girl's death grip. He glanced briefly at the screen, automatically understanding what was happening before locking it and putting the device aside.
He moved his body so that it was closer to hers, resting his hand on her spine and guiding her until she laid her head on his chest, caressing the area below his fingers.
Matt felt his heart break with every tremble that rocked the body beneath his caused by the sobs. If he could take that pain away from his girlfriend, he would.
"It's okay, baby, let it out. I'm right here." He cooed, his fingers caressed the tangled strands of her hair lightly, stroking the area while moving his upper body back and forth, slowly calming his girlfriend.
"Ma-Matty-" Y/N's voice was weak, wobbly from the pain in her heart.
Matt removed his hand from hers for a few seconds, stretching it to the bedside table - where the plate was -, taking the bottle of water that Y/N always filled before going to sleep. He opened the lid in one quick movement, bringing it close to his girl's face.
"Come on, my love. Sit down for a moment and take a sip of water. Please." The boy asked in a soft voice, helping Y/N straighten her posture before bringing the bottle closer to her lips, helping her take a few small sips of the contents.
He closed the bottle after making sure she was satisfied, placing it on the mattress before turning his attention to Y/N again. He brushed away the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear.
"What if they're right?" She asked in a whisper, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying.
"No, they aren't." Matt's tone was convincing, as if he was absolutely sure of what he was saying. "You are not worse than others because of your weight. You look great as you are. Your body is perfect, do you know why? Because he's healthy enough to carry you around and take care of you." The boy held her hands lightly, stroking the back of her fingers gently as he looked into her eyes. "The recovery journey is not easy, I remember the words your psychologist said to me when we had that session together. I imagine your head when you see clothes getting tighter, and these comments certainly make you want to give up, I know you, baby."
He paused momentarily, watching her reactions carefully.
Y/N knew that, recovery was hard work. Not wanting to die was hard work.
"Recovery is not a race. You don't have to feel guilty about taking less or more time than you originally thought or having relapses from time to time. This is part of the process, and I want you to understand this. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life. When I look at the most beautiful things, I remember you. In the pink tulips of the flower shop across the street, in the Cassiopeia constellation, in the bees that fly in our garden and in the greenest tree I have ever seen." Y/N let out a tearful laugh when she heard him mention the tree, knowing his immense love for nature. "Because you're pretty like them."
"I-I'm sorry." The girl whispered, sniffling then lowering her gaze in shame. "I... I saw the photos that Nick posted, and there were comments..." She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly.
"Oh baby." He leaned slightly over Y/N, sealing his lips over her warm forehead. "If you want to apologize, let me do it. If you went through this now, it was because of me."
"No, Matt. It was never and will never be your fault." Y/N shook her head, wiping her eyes momentarily with the sleeve of her - his - hoodie, sniffling slightly before taking one of Matt's hands, intertwining their fingers. "You don't control people, much less through the internet. They will always talk a lot because they are behind a screen that protects them, but that will never be your fault. I would rather go through this a thousand times and have you with me than never have you again."
"I understand." He paused momentarily. "Please, don't let it get to that point again while you're alone. If you see something that upsets you or makes you feel bad, turn it off instantly and call me. I want to be there to help you. I want to be there for you." The brunette asked, staring at her eyes.
Y/N sighed, nodding her head and leaning slightly closer to him, resting her forehead on Matt's shoulder, exhaling the softening scent and perfume that exuded from the fabric of the hoddie on his body.
Her eyes burned from the tears she shed, closing them tightly to prevent more from falling, her heart still feeling sore from everything.
"If you want, we can contact that psychologist again, the one who helped you throughout the process at the hospital." Matt lowered his head, bringing his face closer to the back of Y/N's head, pressing his lips against his girl's hair, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth of her body close to his. "I want to attend some sessions just like we did last time, so I understand how I can help you this time."
Y/N felt her heart warm instantly, her free hand snaking to Matt's thigh closest to her, stroking the covered skin lightly.
"Okay."
Matt loved Y/N more than he loved himself, and he would make sure that she understood that she wasn't alone anymore.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
‼️: If you relate to any of the things that I wrote on this, feel free to send me a message, my DMs are open!! I'm always open to talking to you all. You don't need to suffer alone. You're all super strong, and you got this!! I love you 🩷
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife
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shewroteaworld · 8 months
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Unsub Bait
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Premise: For the fourth time, brilliant sunshine!reader is asked to bait the unsub. For the first time, Spencer has a problem with this.
Word count: approx. 2,000
Tw: canon-typical discussions of violence
Author's Note: Welcome to the second installment of brilliant sunshine!reader (meaning highly intelligent sunshine!reader) x Spencer Reid! While you don't have to read my first brilliant sunshine! reader fic to understand this one, I would highly recommend reading it. It's titled "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoy! :) <3
“Here’s an overview of the first phase of the operation: (Y/N) will go undercover as a college student at Yale. She’ll get acquainted with the unsub at Speakeasy, the New Haven bar where he assesses potential victims. We’ll apprehend him in the act of attempted kidnapping.” Hotchner listed for the team.
You’d played unsub lure almost a comical number of times. Once? That’s a once in a million task required to capture a once in a million unsub. Twice? You’d only have two nickels, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right? But four times? 
You’d already joked to Hotch that you should add “professional unsub bait” to your resume. 
It would’ve been more comical if it wasn’t so scary. 
You took a deep breath as you stared at the photos of the victims on the mahogany conference room table. Melissa Grey. Audrey Bernstein. Alivia Johnson. You could see your 21-year-old self in their eyes. You remember being so young and full of anxiety; you were near graduating from MIT. You couldn’t sleep at night from worrying if you had already lived up to your potential and would spend the rest of your years a washed up gifted kid– an academic has–been. After graduation, you proved to yourself your worth.
The college juniors in the photographs had their lives cut short by the unsub before they had the opportunity to find out what amazing places their brilliant minds could take them. You were about to allow said unsub to nearly kidnap you. 
That is, if you didn’t blow your cover. Then, he would hold you hostage or attempt to kill you as soon as possible by skipping his usual "kidnap and torture" routine.
Rationally, you knew your field experience more than prepared you for this task. Also, you knew your team had your back. They always kept you safe and healthy. The one time you were put at serious risk, you had to fight to be left alone after the case closed. But, you’re not sure if all the facts in the world could adequately calm your adrenal glands.
“Is this necessary?” Spencer suddenly interjected.
You turned to Spencer in surprise. “It’s the quickest way. We have twenty-four hours,” You said.
The unsub had a pattern; a girl was dying once every two weeks, and, when the the local and Connecticut police force combined failed to contain the situation, the BAU was brought into the case 36 hours before the next killing. With his eidetic memory, you were certain Spencer couldn't forget the time restraints if he tried, hence why you were stunned by his sudden brazenness. However, given Spencer's traumatic relationship history and your budding romance, Spencer's behavior was a lot more likely.
You and Spencer had been dating for a couple weeks. Despite being certain the team had their suspicions, you kept your relationship on the downlow. Strong boundaries were a good thing to keep when your relationship was in its fragile, formative era. Plus, you both agreed it was best to keep a high level of professionalism. 
This was the first time Spencer broke protocol.
“I think there’s another way.” Spencer continued. “It’s unsafe and illogical to put anyone’s life into considerable risk if there’s another viable option.”
“Are you implying I’m being rash, Reid?” Hotchner asked with a raised eyebrow. 
Usually, Spence would look away and take a breath. He’d at least have the decency to act timid, especially given the fact the entire team pulled multiple all-nighters in an effort to catch this serial killer. Instead, he leveled with Hotchner’s glare and asserted himself further. “I just think we’ve gotten a little too comfy using (Y/N) as an unsub lure. The more we do, the more probable a disaster will occur with her in the line of fire.”
“Spencer,” Morgan cut in gently. There was sympathy in his eyes. “We’ve done this with (Y/N) before. We’re good at reading her. And she knows the drill. We’ll keep her safe.”
“Yes, because that’s something we can certainly guarantee when she’s 3 inches from a serial killer.” Spencer deadpanned. 
“Reid. A word.” Without waiting for Spencer’s reaction, Hotch left the meeting room. With a hard look in his eye, Spencer filed after Hotch. You were relieved he was still obedient despite being ornery.
For a few moments, the team sat in silence. 
Rossi broke the spell with the scrape of his chair. “Well, I for one, am going to take this impromptu intermission as an opportunity to grab coffee. Any requests?” Rossi asked. 
“I’ll take a barbajada.” You joked half-heartedly. 
“Very funny, (L/N). Any requests the office Keurig can complete in less than five minutes?” 
The team rattled off their go-to office drink orders, but it faded to white noise. During your friendship, Spencer would always care for you when you had to lure the unsub. He’d be more attentive on the jet ride in and out. He’d check in on your mental state directly after the unsub was arrested and always called you once you got home. Once, after the particularly stressful unsub encounter, he sent you links to PTSD articles and even offered to help you schedule an appointment with a specialized therapist through the FBI’s mental health services.
But he’d never once intervened with a plan for you to go undercover. You knew Spencer Reid was nothing if not rational. He knew Hotch valued every member of his team. He knew Hotch would never send you undercover if it wasn’t necessary to stop a killing spree before more young women became statistics. 
Therefore, you knew Spencer was thinking about Maeve. 
You stood. 
“Where you going, Beauty Queen?” Morgan asked.
“Just heading to the restroom.” You lied. 
You walked down the hall and crept up the stairs. You tiptoed down the east wing of the second floor to avoid clicking your heels against the concrete. 
You crept to the side of Hotch’s office. You pressed your back to the wall.
Hotch said something indecipherable. An angry Reid answered.
“And all I’m saying is, she is not a cat with nine lives! She has one life. One precious life, that I think we’ve been a little too careless with.”
“Reid, you know I would never risk putting (Y/N) in harm’s way if it wasn’t the best course of action. She’s experienced with this. The team is experienced with this.” 
A beat of silence passed.
“Promise me that if you have so much as an inkling her life is in danger–”
“We’ll do everything in our power to get her out of there.”
“That’s the thing! ‘Everything in our power…’ It’s not enough. How many times have we told families we did everything we could when all they have left is a body bag?” 
Your heart froze. Both of the voices lowered. You could only catch bits and pieces of Hotch’s speech. You were never an eavesdropper, but despite your better nature, you crept around the corner towards the door.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone to an unsub, Spencer. I know how it sticks with you. I know how it changes the job. But you have to trust us– the team. We’re going to protect her. And we’re going to be there for you,” Hotch said. 
Spencer sighed. "How did you do it?" Spencer's voice cracked. "After Haley, Hotch? I’m not sure if I can survive this.” He sounded seconds away from tears. 
At that moment, you knew you would not sleep comfortably at night if you continued to be a fly on the wall.  You tiptoed back down the east wing and waited for Spencer at the bottom of the stairs.
Ten minutes passed before Spencer appeared at the top of the staircase.
“Spencer?” You called. 
His hazel eyes were tinged pink. He walked down the stairs nonchalantly. “Hey, um, would you mind if we discussed part of the case file real quick? Privately? It could help, um…” He cleared his throat. “Develop your persona.”
“Yes, of course.” 
Spencer didn’t look at you as he power walked down the hall towards the janitorial closets. For the first time since you started dating, he didn’t adjust to your walking pace. 
He flung a door open and yanked you inside. 
Carelessly, Spencer slammed the door behind you. Before you could get a word in, he pulled you into a bear hug.
“Spencer.” You whispered. “I’m here. I’m okay.”
He nuzzled his nose into your hair. 
You stood in the statue of a hug for two minutes.
“I can’t lose you.” Spencer whispered.
“You won’t.”
Spencer pulled away from you. He bent down to look you in the eye. He squeezed your shoulders. His eyes danced with emotion. There was a deep ache, a whirlpool of sadness that you knew a lifetime may never heal. What perplexed you was the hardness that you could only read as anger. 
“I…” He sighed. He hung his head. He dragged his palms down the slope of your shoulders to your forearms. It was like he was taking a cast of you with his hands. 
“I’m not dead on arrival. I’m still here. I’m coming back on that jet ride home with you. I’m going to be okay.” You reciprocated his shoulder squeeze. “You’re going to be okay.”
Spencer shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I care about you. It’s a part of the girlfriend package.” Spencer pulled you into another constricting hug. 
 “I can’t fathom how difficult this must be for you.” You whispered.
Spencer pressed his forehead to yours. “Promise me when you go out there, you won’t worry about me. I want you to only focus on you, your surroundings, and making sure you get out of there.”
“I promise, Spencer.” You said, though you weren’t sure if that would be the truth.
“And one more thing,” He said. His irises were so close to yours you could pick apart the layer of green and brown. “As soon as you feel unsafe, you call someone. If you have any inclination he’s going to overtake you–”
“I call the team.”
He took a step back and ran his hands through his hair. “I know you’re strong. I’m not trying to insult your field work.”
Your heart cracked. “Spencer, love, I know that. I’m so happy you care about me. I just wish this situation hurt you less.”
He dropped his hands to his sides. His brows furrowed. He stared at a random point to the left of your face.
“Can you do something for me? Before we leave?” He asked, still not meeting your gaze.
“What is it, Spence?”
He took a deep breath. He met your eyes again. “Dance with me.” 
“What?”
“Dance with me. I…” He inhaled deeply. “I never got to dance with Maeve before she…I barely even got to hold her. I won’t make the same mistake twice.” 
You closed the distance between you and Spencer. You cupped his face in your hands, and he instinctively leaned into your touch. His eyes shone with tears. “I’ll dance with you for the rest of my days, Spence.” 
He whipped out his phone. He turned on a slow jazz song you played for him last winter on an impromptu hot chocolate date. 
Your heart skipped a beat. You could go on that same date again, but it would have a whole new color to it. 
He slid his phone onto a cleaning supply shelf. He pulled you to his chest. Your head nestled right beneath his collarbone. You wrapped your arms around his mid back.
You danced, bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces, in silence until the song ended. The symphony of emotions didn’t cease with the final brush of the snare. 
Spencer continued swaying with you.
“I’m going to be okay.” You whispered.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You can’t promise me that.” He held you even tighter. “But I can promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you come home to me.” 
Author's Note: Hello to all my new followers! I'm so glad you're here! I'm so grateful for the overwhelmingly positive reception to "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoyed this piece as well!
I hope you have a great day or night wherever you are in this crazy world.
xoxo,
shewroteaworld
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milkthebunny · 1 month
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"Laios is heavily autistic-coded and it was extremely unfair of Toshiro to assume he would understand social cues. However, that doesn't give him an excuse for all the inappropriate things he was saying to Toshiro and he deserved to be made aware of his behavior"
And
"Toshiro, being from a background that relies heavily on social cues and body language, assumed wrongly Laios would get it and may be neurodivergent himself. But he doesn't get a pass because he could have openly expressed his discomfort to Laios but actively chose not to and has shown to possibly have ablelist attitudes, regardless of whether it is internalized ableism or not and deserves to also be aware of his behavior"
And
"These are two adults who, after having an argument, decide to sit down and have an open discussion about what transpired. Laios recognized that Toshiro needed a second and was extremely malnourished and listened. Toshiro also explained a good amount of his outburst came from a place of envy (since Laios can express himself in a way he cannot for several reasons [his position, his race, possibly masking, etc]) but realized he took out his frustrations in a way that wasn't okay. By the end of the day, they talked, understood each other and now their relationship is mending. They're moving forward because they had a healthy conversation and want to work on bettering themselves.
And maybe this part of their interaction is so easily ignored because we all either have seen or have been in a situation ourselves where someone is villainized for something they cannot help or have fucked up majorly but don't know how it happened or how to fix it. And instead of talking, there was infantilization, being demonized or declarations of someone being irredeemable and being forced to move on with little to no communication of what happened. So it's strange to see and maybe even a little easy to just brush past these characters displaying flawed, human perspectives and then talking it out and growing closer afterwards"
Are all discussions that can and should co-exist.
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francis-writes · 3 months
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Hiii! can i request what feyd would do if he gets jealous/possessive of his wife/partner? i just have a feeling that he would go absolutely feral. thank you sm! after dune 2 ive been searching her feyd stories everywhere!
READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL
A/N: thanks! I had crush on him since i read the book but now fortunately there is much more about him. I am still obsessed with him but for next week I may publish less often because of university and personal stuff
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First of all, you're absolutely right. Not that Feyd is self-conscious. He thinks about himself as a perfect partner, a main prize, so he isn't afraid that you would find someone better than him.
But it doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like the idea of you being out of his control or someone else seducing you. (He trusts you but there's never enough caution, world is full of dangers; also with his position it is possible that someone could try to take you away just to get a revenge on Feyd)
I already wrote a scenario where somebody flirted with his crush and lemme tell you, nothing changes when Feyd is in established relationship. If anything, he only gets more possesive.
Of course, there are many different possible scenarios. His reaction depends on whether there's actual reason to worry or he just has suspicions, whether somebody flirts with you or just gets to close to you, whether it's a stranger, an acquaintance, a family. Is it a noble, a common person etc. But lets just speak about some possibilities
If you were somewhere in public, perhaps on some official party, and Feyd notices that somebody is flirting with you, he quickly drops whatever he's doing and comes to you. Keeping his calm posture, he joins the conversation and makes sure to emphasize that you're HIS partner and you aren't looking for anybody else. Feyd keeps his arm around your waist, starts talking about how happy you are together (constatly repeating "MY love", "MY spouse", "OUR family" etc). He's not that much into PDA and being soft publicly but he kissess you as hungrily and as long as possible. People on the party feel a bit awkward but the point is made.
If potential rival is going to far with their advances and acts too bold, or if it's a less public situation (for example a common afternoon in Harkonnen's residency) then it's very likely that Feyd would use violence, perhaps treating that person like he treated Rabban in the movie (throwing him on the floor and forcing to lick Feyd's boots), no matter the status of that person (unless it would be Emperor himself... I think). Maybe instead of boot-licking (or in addition to it), he would force them to admit that you're Feyd's and they had no right to mess with his possesions (even if your relationship is pretty healthy, Feyd still treats you as his possesion and he's very territorial)
Or maybe if somebody flirts with you more subtly, there's a possibility that Feyd will fuck you in a near room so everybody knows what happen because 1. He knows how to make you scream 2. It's pretty obvious from your disheveled look later. And this can happen no matter whether the flirt happened on a party (and all the nobles have to wittness this little show) or on a common day (and the only recipient of this show is his rival and maybe some poor servants).
When there's no direct threat to your relationship, he still acts pretty possesive. Feyd likes to know where and how do you spend your day (though he really likes if you spend your time with him and if you're interested, he engages you into his duties and takes to fight trainings). He wants you to inform him about your plans and he may or may not make sure that servants observe you. It isn't spying. It's just curiosity and making sure that you're safe.
Also. If Feyd was going to fight with somebody and that person acted the same way as he did with Paul and Chani ("Who is the little one, a pet perhaps? Will she deserve my special attentions?"), Feyd would be fucking livid (kinda hypocritical but that's what we love him for). That person wouldn’t survive to see the next day. And if he left them alive, it would be only to torture them and teach them how messing with his close ones ends.
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stxrvel · 10 months
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hate is a strong word
summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?
pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader
words: 6k
warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.
note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!
part 2
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Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.
He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.
You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.
You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?
You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.
But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.
“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.
Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.
“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.
Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.
“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.
“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”
His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.
None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.
“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”
“I did, Barnes, I-”
“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”
You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?
Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?
Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.
“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”
“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."
“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”
The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.
“Why can't you just listen?”
His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.
That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.
At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.
“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.
You couldn't take him back. It was true.
“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”
His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.
Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.
The day before.
“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.
“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.
You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.
“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.
“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”
Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”
“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.
“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”
You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.
You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.
You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.
You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.
“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.
“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.
“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”
“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”
“Wow.”
You heard his voice.
“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”
You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.
You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.
“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”
With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.
“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.
“Ha! Me?”
“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”
“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.
“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”
“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”
“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”
“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”
“That's what our job is all about!”
“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”
“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”
“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”
“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”
“At least my kill rate is minus five.”
“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”
“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”
“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”
“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”
“Ah, now you care about my life?”
Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:
“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”
Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.
Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.
Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.
“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”
Natasha shrugged under your gaze.
“We've known you to do crazy things.”
“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”
Five hours earlier.
You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.
Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.
Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.
Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.
Just like it happened on that mission.
“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.
You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.
“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.
You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.
“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”
“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”
“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”
Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.
“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.
“You see?”
“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”
Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.
“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.
Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.
“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”
Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.
You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.
The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.
Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…
Bingo.
“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.
You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.
“Is that it?”
“Just a folder.”
“And why does it load so slowly?”
“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”
Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”
“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”
The aforementioned just snorted.
The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.
Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?
At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.
“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”
There was no response.
You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.
The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.
“… of… moment!”
“What the fuck is he saying?”
Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.
But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.
A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.
“Barnes…”
And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.
“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”
The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.
You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.
You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.
Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.
You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.
It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.
“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.
“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.
“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”
At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.
Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.
“How's it going up there?”
“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”
You looked around.
Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.
But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.
There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.
“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I'm getting the pendrive.”
“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”
“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”
You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.
“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”
“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”
“Y/N! Get down, now!”
Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.
Ninety-eight percent.
“Y/N!”
“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”
“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”
“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”
Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.
“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”
His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.
“I'm almost there.”
You heard him grunt in the distance.
You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.
At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.
Ninety-nine.
You had reached the critical point on the ground.
The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.
“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.
“Your voices are distracting me!”
Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.
You had to get even closer.
You had to use plan c.
But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.
You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.
So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.
You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.
You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.
The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.
One hundred percent.
You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.
In the midst of a deep exhalation…
Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.
You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.
You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.
“Shit.”
He grabbed your arm and you ran again.
Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.
You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.
When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…
“Where's Steve?”
“If you had your fucking communicator on…”
Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.
You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.
You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.
And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.
“Get on.”
He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.
You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.
Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.
You went back on the road, for at least another hour.
Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.
“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”
His voice gave no room for retorts.
Present.
Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.
You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.
Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.
“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”
You frowned. “What?”
“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.
“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.
“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”
“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”
You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.
Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.
“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.
“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.
“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.
Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.
Wow. What the fuck was that?
“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.
Feelings.
Ew.
No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.
“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.
“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.
“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.
You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.
“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”
Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”
“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.
And that was the really strange thing.
You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.
“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…
“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”
You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”
“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”
“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.
“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.
Your head went blank.
“WHAT?”
Several seconds stunned.
Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”
“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”
Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.
“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”
Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?
“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.
“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”
“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.
“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”
“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”
“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”
“Because I thought you…! Argh.”
Bucky smiled again.
“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”
You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.
Were you asthmatic?
And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?
What the fuck was happening to you?
“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.
Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.
Did you just… imagine it all?
Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?
Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…
Oh no.
No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.
But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:
“Shall we fix something to eat?”
Oh, no, you were screwed.
--
a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3
1K notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 5 months
Text
the only one
DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024
summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)
request: yes!
words: 6.3k
warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.
note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!
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gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n
Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…
You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.
You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.
Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.
After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?
But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?
Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.
Yeah it could be that.
Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.
One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.
It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.
You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.
Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?
After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.
If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.
Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.
You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.
“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.
“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.
“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.
“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”
“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”
“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.
“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.
“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”
“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”
“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”
“I was a little slow, yeah?”
“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.
While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.
After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.
But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.
So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.
Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.
“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.
“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”
You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.
“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.
“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”
“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.
You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.
When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.
Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.
You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.
There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.
“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.
“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”
“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.
“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”
“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”
“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.
“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.
“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”
“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.
“To take you home.”
Boy, was he a charmer.
“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”
“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”
Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.
You talked. You laughed. You smiled.
But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.
But his office…
When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.
When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.
But you clearly fail when he points it out.
“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.
“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.
“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.
“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.
“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.
“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.
“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”
Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.
“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”
“Peter…”
“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”
You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.
“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.
He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.
His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.
Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?
Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.
“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.
“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.
“Do you like it?”
“What?”
“The dress.”
“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.
“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”
“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.
“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”
Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.
You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.
You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.
His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.
“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”
That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.
“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.
Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.
“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”
He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.
“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.
“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.
“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”
“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.
“So polite. Good girl.”
To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.
“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.
His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.
“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”
His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.
“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.
“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”
“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”
“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”
“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.
“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”
His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.
When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.
“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.
“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”
That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”
And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.
He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.
But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.
“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.
“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.
“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.
When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.
He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.
“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.
You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.
“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.
“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”
Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.
“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.
“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.
“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.
“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.
Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.
“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”
With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.
It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.
He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.
As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.
“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.
“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”
“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”
“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”
You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.
“Can I? Or is it too much—”
“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?
“What?”
“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.
“Um right, I think. Why?”
“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.
“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.
“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”
Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.
thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞
taglist:
-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs
crossed out= not able to tag
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theereina · 1 year
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A Guide on Self-Development for Women
Hello, ladies! Self-development is a great way to build confidence and grow in life. I've put together a quick comprehensive guide to help women achieve their goals and become the best versions of themselves. Here are some steps to help you get started:
Set meaningful goals: Setting clear and achievable goals is an important first step in self-development. Take some time to identify what your goals are and create a plan to reach them. Having goals keeps you motivated and focused.
Develop a positive mindset: A positive attitude and outlook can help you stay focused on your goals and make progress. Start each day with an affirmation and focus on the good things in life. Celebrate the small wins just as much as you celebrate the big wins. A win is a win. Act accordingly.
Take time for self-care: Taking care of yourself is essential for physical and mental well-being. Practice self-care daily. Make sure to take time each day to do something that you enjoy and that relaxes you. Remember in every situation and setting you are your MAIN priority.
Stay organized: Being organized and having a plan for everything can help you stay productive and on top of things. Create a routine and stick to it to maximize your productivity. Use a planner or to-do list to keep track of your schedule. Organize by day, week, and month. This allows you to see the bigger picture while planning the specifics.
Develop your skills: Developing your skills and learning new things will help you stay ahead of the game and open up new opportunities. Look for classes and courses that interest you and make an effort to learn something new each day. Look at this as an investment. New skills, new money. Different skills, different bags.
Work on relationships: Building and maintaining healthy relationships is key to personal growth. Make an effort to stay in touch with family and friends, and be sure to nurture your most important relationships. On the other hand, do not feel forced to maintain toxic or unhealthy relationships. Relationships can be one of the greatest tools when it comes to networking. Both marketing and advertising can be impacted.
I honestly hope that this guide helps you on your journey to self-development and achieving your goals. This post's sole purpose was to inform the women in this community. Best of luck to all of you lovely ladies!
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chahnniesroom · 6 months
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for better, for worse
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pairing: lee minho x female reader
summary: an arranged marriage is anything but ideal. minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he's lacking, but you haven't exactly been the perfect wife either. a phone call from you leads to a shift in priorities.
word count: 1.5k
warnings: angst, mention of a car accident, mentioned death of a minor character
a/n: originally this was going to be part of a longer fic, but i will never write that longer fic, so i decided to post it! the name of this fic is what inspired me to create the till death do us part collection. i hope you enjoy!
part 2 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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Minho had never really thought that he’d be married before the age of 30. Sure, he knew that his parents would likely expect it of him, but he prioritised work far too much to have a meaningful relationship with anyone. So it’s not exactly a surprise that when his parents announce that they’ve arranged a marriage with you, Minho doesn’t suddenly become an attentive and doting partner. In fact, even a year later, he still hasn’t gotten very close to you.
Minho knows that when it comes to his role as a husband, he’s lacking, but you haven’t exactly been the perfect wife either. Behind closed doors, you seem openly resentful of this whole situation and do your best to avoid Minho altogether. 
Honestly, Minho doesn’t blame you. If he thinks about it, which he tries not to, you have it even worse off than him. You’re younger by a couple years and had been in the process of rising through the ranks of your family’s company when you’d been forced into becoming a dutiful housewife instead of an executive. 
You had tried at first, texting him good morning, staying up late to wait for him to get home from work, and making sure the staff always had fresh and healthy meals prepared. Minho feels guilty thinking of how often he had brushed you off, but he had just been promoted and a lot of the executives, your father included, were just waiting to see him make a mistake. The overwhelming pressure had led him to spend more nights than not at the office and when he did go home, his thoughts still revolved on the work he had left to do.
You haven’t done anything drastic to express your dissatisfaction yet, but it feels like it’s only a matter of time.
Tonight would be the perfect way to do so. The two of you are expected to be present for an event, one that Minho has been invited to speak at. His assistant, Jiyu, tells him that it’s the opportunity of a lifetime and stresses how important it is for everything to go according to plan.
Minho heads to the event straight from the office and isn’t surprised that you’re not there before him. Even 30 minutes after the event has officially started, he still doesn’t mind since it’s just been mingling so far, something that he knows you detest. It’s when they sit everybody down to start serving the meal that he starts getting impatient, his temper starting to make itself known.
You know that this night is important for Minho and he’s told you multiple times that he expects you to be there. He knew that you had been picked up on time since he’d even sent his personal driver, Jeonghoon, to get you and Jeonghoon had sent assurances that the two of you were on your way.
You're frustratingly convincing though, Minho has never been able to say no to you and he knows that you've charmed all the household staff as well.
He'd texted Jeonghoon once to check where you were, but hadn't gotten a reply and he just hopes that it's because traffic is bad and not because you're plotting something.
When Jiyu pesters Minho about the lack of your presence, he gives in and calls your cell phone. It rings for a while, and Minho is about to hang up when you finally answer.
“Minho!” you say, sounding delighted. Minho is instantly suspicious. “You’re calling me.”
“Where are you?” he demands coldly. “It’s late.”
“I-I tried to call,” you continue to babble. “This time, I was good, really. I remem-remembered to call Jiyu-ssi instead of your phone. She said you were busy and not to bother you. But they needed someone to come help and I couldn’t think of anyone else.”
“Y/n, are you- are you drunk?” he asks in disbelief. If he sounded cold before, his voice is absolutely frigid now. Someone happens to walk by and they look frightened by whatever expression is on his face based on the way that they scurry past while trying to avoid eye contact.
“No!” you deny vehemently, even though there’s still something odd about the tone of your voice. “I didn’t drink anything! They didn’t let me. They won’t let me do anything. They just gave me this thing and-”
“Where are you.”
“I’m at the hospital,” you say plainly.
“What?” Minho stands up from the table, uncaring of the way that everyone swivels to look at him. He had stayed quiet enough before to prevent eavesdropping, but forgets to keep his voice down reacting to your matter-of-fact response. “What happened?”
“We were driving to the hotel,” you say in a small voice. “I didn’t want to be late. I- I don’t know what happened. There was another car- they were in a rush too.” You stop to hiccup.
“Y/n-” Minho is at the entrance to the ballroom and doesn’t even wait for the staff to heave the doors open, opting to push through them himself. He knows he's making a scene, but he couldn’t care less about anybody else in the room at the moment. 
“He’s gone,” you interrupt, sounding hollow. “Jeonghoon. They couldn’t even get him out of the car. I saw it. Him. What was left. There was so much blood.”
It feels like Minho’s stomach drops right to the floor.
“Y/n-”
He can barely hear your reply, instead the rush of his pulse in his ears drowns out any other sound. He's suddenly aware of how shaky his breathing has gotten, shallow gasps that barely provide any oxygen to his lungs.
“It doesn’t feel real,” you say, subdued. “They keep saying that I was really lucky, but it doesn’t feel like it.”
“Are you hurt?” Minho’s almost afraid to ask.
“Oh,” you sound surprised. “Me? I- Don’t worry about me.”
“Don’t worry? Never mind, just tell me what hospital you’re at. I’m on my way.” Minho has forgotten that you're particularly skilled at deflecting questions, even ones that are direct.
“What? No! You can’t leave, you have your speech-”
“Y/n,” Minho says gently. You're starting to sound panicked and since he still doesn't know what your condition is, he doesn't want you to be any more stressed than you already are. “It’s okay, I’ve already excused myself.”
“I know tonight was really important to you,” you say miserably. “I ruined it. I’m sorry. Oh I- Someone’s here, I have to go now. Don't come, please. I’m fine, really. Stay at the event.”
The call ends abruptly and Minho is left staring at his phone.
“Minho-ssi,” Jiyu hisses from beside him. Her heels clack as she tries to keep up with him. Minho's already halfway across the lobby, but he can still see into the ballroom where a number of people are still staring after him. They must think he’s gone crazy. There’s a smile on Jiyu's face, but the tone of her voice is anything but friendly. “What are you doing? They're not finished serving dinner and you have to be on stage soon.”
Minho doesn’t even bother to answer, starting to dial for a car to come pick him up before he realises, dismayed, that he’s pulled up Jeonghoon’s number. He shakes his head for a moment before calling someone else.
Jiyu grabs at his elbow, pulling him to a stop. Even through the layers of his clothes, her nails are sharp pin pricks that dig into the flesh of his arm.
“Minho-ssi, you can’t just leave!”
Minho wrenches himself from her grasp and turns to scowl at her. She stumbles back at the force of his glare for a moment before reaching out again.
“Y/n’s in the hospital,” he explains. That should be enough explanation, but it still doesn’t seem to affect her. "I have to go."
“Tonight is critical if you want to win over enough people for the contract that you’re negotiating. Don’t waste any time worrying about her. If she's at the hospital, there’s nothing that you can do to help Y/n, she’s already being taken care of,” Jiyu says coolly. “Some things are more important.” 
Minho stares at her for a long moment.
Jiyu has worked with Minho for a significant portion of his career. Her analytical and no-nonsense way of handling things is part of the reason that he’s been able to make it as far as he has. For the longest time, he had admired her ability to set aside her emotions to make logical, objective decisions.
Now he wonders if she’s just heartless.
Out of the corner of his eye, Minho can see a car pull up to the doors and he makes his own decision.
“Yes," he agrees. Jiyu lets out a sigh of relief and reaches out to tug him back to the ballroom. Minho steps away to avoid her hand. "Some things- some people are more important. I didn't see that before and I won't make that mistake again. Jiyu-ssi, give everybody my apologies that I was not able to stay and then you may go home. Thank you for your service all these years, but I will not be needing you as my assistant any longer."
He doesn't look back.
part 2 | till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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henrioo · 10 months
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✦ ── THE MORNING AFTER: EUSTASS KID AND KILLER
Relationships: Eustass Kid x Gn! Reader x Killer (Poly), Kid x Killer (Suggested)
Synopsis: What would it be like to wake up only to discover that you didn't sleep with one crewmate, but two!
Warnings: Mention of sexual intercourse, waking up naked among people without clothes, mention of drunk (consenting) sex, mention of regret, mention of consequences, Soft Kid and Killer, Healthy Relationship, Polyamorous Relationship, Threesome
Word Count: 1,0k
Notes: Oh yeah baby, I really love this duo, this is the first part of a "series" of waking up the next day with a trio, I plan to do more now that I'm back but to debut we have my favorites, the next ones will probably be Zoro and sanji or Luffy and Law, hope you like it
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •
It was so soft and warm… You were under a hard surface, but it was so hot that it somehow became soft? There was something around your waist and it warmed you even more. There was a layer of soft blanket under you and everything felt even better, when was the last time you slept so well? His bed wasn't even that comfortable...
Yes, your bed was not comfortable… For some reason it was a hard mattress that you always said you would change on the next island you stopped on, but you always forgot and continued on the hard bed. Also, what was that breath on your neck? Breathing? Weren't you alone?!
Still groggy and confused, you forced yourself to open your eyes to try to figure out where the hell you fell asleep this time. His head began to throb and hurt as his eyes got used to the low light in the room, the windows were covered, preventing the sun's rays from illuminating everything.
You yawned loudly and shifted, or at least you tried to since there was something… someone holding you in place. You looked around and your face burned as your jaw dropped open in shock. You were lying on the chest of none other than Eustass Kid, your captain. Also, around your waist and curled around you like a puppy was Killer, the first mate.
You suppressed a scream and began to rummage through your memories in search of what had happened. You remembered very little, you had entered a drinking contest, won and then tried to stumble back to the ship to sleep. At some point you met Killer who would help you get back safely, maybe you found Kid on the ship, but nothing really explained how you ended up there.
And to make matters worse… Where were your clothes? Oh no… You couldn't believe you made a cliché like that, did you even sleep with your superiors just because you were drunk?!
Killer squeezed your waist a little more and settled on your back, you felt a shiver running through your body. Of course, you couldn't deny that they were very attractive and maybe you had a crush on them, besides obviously, it was a celebration night and the three of you must have been completely drunk and crazy… But still, that shouldn't have happened!
Not that you didn't want to… On the contrary, what situation would that put you in?! Would your peers say you were trying to curry favor? What if the two got mad and threw you off the ship?! There were so many possibilities for everything to go wrong that her head started to spin…
But you couldn't deny it, being there, in the grip of Killer's arms and the comfort of Kid's body was so lovely. You definitely wouldn't use that word for anything related to those two monstrous men, but it felt so right.
"Fuck my head" you heard Kid mumbling and closed your eyes at the time, maybe it would be better to just pretend you were sleeping.
He shifted a bit until he realized where he was, then there was silence until he finally spoke.
"Y/n" you bit your lip, that he didn't realize you were sleeping, it was his wish "I know you're awake" Damn! How did he know?!
"Captain…" you mumbled shyly and opened your eyes to stare at him. There was no negative emotion in that gaze, no anger, no disgust, he just stared at you... peacefully?
"Shut up, I still don't want to wake up" Killer said and then he buried his head in your neck and inhaled deeply, making you shiver and let out a small cry of fright.
"Killer, let go, they don't want to" Kid spoke quickly and not long after Killer released you with a disappointed mutter.
"Sorry" he said and then sat down on the bed.
You stood there looking confused at both of them, what was going on?
"You can go back to your room, let's not say anything to anyone" Kid said and yawned again, wasn't he going to tell? Did he… had he regretted it?
"Are we just going to pretend this didn't happen?" You let out with some sadness, you couldn't help but show your disappointment… Were you really that bad?
"Well, it's not exactly weird Killer waking up in my bed" Kid said teasing the other man who just swore under his breath "But by the look of you you definitely didn't want to be here, so let's just pretend it didn't happen, blah blah, you know" he said with little patience.
"But… What if I wanted to be here?" You said in a sad whisper. It was no secret to many that you really wanted both men, you just hadn't done anything imagining that your superiors would never hook up with their own subordinates.
"You want?" It was Killer who spoke, turning and facing you, at least that's what it looked like since his bangs covered his eyes.
"Maybe…" you said nervously and sat up, using the blanket to cover yourself.
"So does that stuff you said yesterday about you being in love with us being true?" Kid said, staring at you deathly.
"I said that?!" You screamed in shock, you had assumed that while drunk?!
"No" he smirked "But by your reaction it's true…"
"You idiot…" you cursed in embarrassment.
"So… Can we go back to sleep?" Killer said approaching you "Let's deal with the romantic talk after coffee"
"Yes definitely" Kid said and pulled you back into his chest, Killer then clung to you again.
"So…" you said after a few minutes of silence "If Killer is already a regular here… Can I be too?" That was her request to try and turn something from one night into much more, you had the chance to have those two men in your hand and you weren't going to waste it.
"You don't even have to ask, we're tired of hearing you complain about your bed" Killer said happily.
"Yeah, now shut up and go to sleep or I'll expel you both" Kid yelled with his eyes closed.
"Ah… And y/n" Killer whispered in his ear "We love you too…"
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