#and it’s weird because it numbed me enough for a few weeks that i didn’t think about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paul-ster · 2 months

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What if I just totally dropped off the face of the Earth for a week?

Like it’d be cool I swear. I swear maynee 😓

Anyways enjoy this snippet of a fic im working on (while I try not to ignore all my other fics)

Fic Name- Freely Tomorrow (I’ll probably change it tbh) PONYBOY POV!

Mom wouldn’t have been mom if she wasn’t so punctual. Mom always knew how much groceries were gonna be. She always knew when Darry took some money to take out a broad. There wasn’t a pattern or anything, she just knew.

Me and Soda used to ask her for money to go together somewhere and she’d have enough somehow. She would always know everything. From when Soda faked sick to when she died. She knew who was going to take me. She knew dad would die with her.

She just always knew and always had a plan.

Darry used to tell me that mom and dad fought all the time before I was born. That my mom used to not be punctual and always forget things. Then after I was born, she did a full 180. It made me happy; I was like their miracle baby.

Darry was the only one that looked like dad. Soda looked identical to mom. But Soda shared some traits with dad, mostly his personality. It didn’t bother me that I looked like Soda but didn’t act like mom or dad.

Once Two-Bit joked about me being from another dad and mom and dad shut that down. I had never seen them so angry like that before. They reassured me that everything was fine. I didn’t remember much, because it happened when I was 5.

Now, I’m faced with that problem again.

“Our parents had a will?” Darry asked the police. They just nodded at his question. Just a few minutes ago we were told our parents were in a fatal car accident. Just a minute ago we identified their bodies.

Just a second ago I was in custody of Darry.

I could tell that Darry was trying to be strong. He looked at the police officer with certainty in his eyes. It was like he had grown up in the time that it took to identify our parents bodies. Still, there was some uncertainty as he looked at the cop who held papers in his hand.

Soda was crying with me, although for our parents. He wasn’t listening to the fact that I could be taken away. Darry didn’t cry, he held his head up high and started the process of getting custody.

“We will have a court date soon. I warn you son, it’s hard to fight against a hand written will,” the police explained to Darry. I didn’t understand then what that meant. Darry didn’t seem to understand either…

“Cmon Pony, Soda, let’s go home,” Darry said to me and Soda. Soda was reluctant to get up, tears were still falling from his eyes. We still needed to call the gang to tell them what happened. Although, Darry seemed to have already done that.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Steve said as he stood next to Soda. It was obvious he was there for Soda only. He didn’t even bother to give me a glance. I didn’t mind that much though, Darry’s conversation with the police hung heavy on my mind.

After a bit of Steve coaxing Sodapop to go home, we made it home. I felt numb, unable to do much but cry as I went to my room. I lay in my bed, looking at the window I had.

The moon was high in the sky. Just today I went and watched the sunset. Just today-

“Pony?” Someone’s voice called from the door. I was unable to move, paralyzed by the thoughts that ran in my mind. I wanted to cry again.

I just wanted to cry and have mom hold me. It was pitiful to think about. Still, the person was in the doorway, shining some light into my dark room. I hadn’t noticed the voice and waited for a second. Again they spoke and I knew who it was.

“I’m real sorry ‘bout your parents,” Johnny said. His voice was real soft, almost coaxing me to cry again. I wanted to cry but something in me didn’t want to anymore. Instead, I got up and faced Johnny.

Johnny looked like he had just finished crying. I understood why, my parents were just like parents to him. They treated him way better than his actual parents could’ve. In some weird way; it felt like we both just lost our parents.

Johnny came over to me and sat down near my legs. Something in me wanted to talk and to cry, but not both. There was a second of silence as I fought with myself to cry or not to. Instead of making a choice, Johnny chose for me.

“Will you be alright?” He looked at me. I wanted to lie, to say I’ll be fine. Yet, I just shook my head and laid back down. Johnny hugged me over the sheets.

“It’s okay to cry,” he whispered into my ear. It was like he held the ticket to my emotions. I cried heavily, heaping sobs overtaking my body. He held onto me tightly, sitting me up so he could rock me gently.

There he was- a 15 year old coaxing a 13 year old. The night was cold and he offered me warmth. I wished the warmth could’ve lasted forever.

I felt the huge blobs of tears fall down my face. It was like my grief was falling out of me, but still sticking to me. Johnny was sniffling too. However, I could tell he was trying not to cry either.

We stayed there for a long time. Just us crying and trying to hold each other. I could hear Sodapop crying too. If I tried, I could’ve probably heard Darry sighing and sniffing. Yet, I couldn’t help but revel in the warmth Johnny gave me.

In the morning I was shocked to see Johnny still with me. It was obvious that we had both cried ourselves to sleep. For a bit I just laid there, numb. When Johnny stirred was when I decided to get up.

We walked to the living room. Everyone was in there, mostly sleeping though. Darry sat at the dining table, running his hands through his hair. He was stressed.

I walked up to him and saw the papers he had on the table. It was a will, my name was etched on it in big letters. Before I could fully read it, Darry put it away.

“Go wake up Soda,” Darry said before I could do anything else. I just nodded, nothing in me could make me give a snarky response. Soda was in his bed with Steve, somehow, Soda was still crying.

For a second I just looked at them. Sodapop and Steve looked so young. I mean- I think everyone looks younger when they’re sleeping though. For Steve though, he just looked a lot less angry.

I looked to Sodapop. His body trembled a bit, and tears continued falling from his eyes. Both of their eyes were puffy, they probably cried themselves to sleep too. Before I could think more of it, I decided to wake Sodapop up.

“Soda, wake up,” I said as gently as I could, walking to Sodapops side and shaking his knee. He stirred a bit before looking at me.

“Hey Pony…” his voice trailed off. It was obvious he was seeing through me, not at me. It took a bit but he got up and followed me to Darry.

Johnny had stayed in the living room, set on waking Dally up. When me and Sodapop walked in, he abandoned that to go to me.

“Hey Johnny,” Soda greeted and Johnny nodded. Darry looked at us and ran his fingers through his hair.

The day dragged on. For me, I cried the entire day. Soda cried too, except he cried with Steve. It was obvious that Darry was holding back his tears, he held a firm face as he sorted through papers. I cried with Johnny and alone.

Somehow, Darry got everything ready for the funeral. Then, he was set in getting custody. He was granted temporary custody of me and Soda as the court date was set up. I could see the fire in his eyes as he wanted the custody to be permanent.

On the day of court I saw some people I didn’t know. They looked at me and the gang closely. It was like they were sizing them all up. Darry held me close, Soda following his lead. The judge asked some questions and soon the topic of a will was brought up.

“Darrel Curtis and his wife Lilith Curtis had a will. In the first section of the will, it is stated that Ponyboy Curtis will be handed to his godparents. Will his godparents step up to the stand?” The judge said.

I felt my mouth go dry and I looked at Darry and Soda. Soda was panicking, this was also new information to him. Darry however, held a firm face and continued to look at the person coming to the stand.

There was a lady, her hair was long. She had the same colored hair as me and the same eyes. Something in me panicked as I looked at her. We made eye contact and she smiled.

“Angelina Thomason, you are the godparent of Ponyboy Curtis right?” The judge asked. Angelina nodded, looking only at the judge.

“Have you discussed this with Lilith and Darrel Curtis?” The judge continued.

“Only with Lilith, if you see the will, Ponyboy is only related to me,” Angelina’s voice was soft but firm. For some reason, that scared me.

“When was the last time this was discussed between you and Lilith Curtis?”

“Just a month ago. She had given me her will and asked me to sign for Ponyboy Curtis.”

The judge nodded and I looked at Darry again. This time, Darry’s face looked like Sodas- scared. I looked back at the judge and the jury. Some people were talking before they quieted down from the judge.

“Our final verdicts are Sodapop Curtis will stay in custody of Darrel Curtis Jr,” the judge started. I heard some cheering from the crowd, most likely Two-Bits. After the court was called again it was time for me.

“Ponyboy Curtis will be placed in custody of Angelina Thomason. These are effective immediately,” the judge said. The court went quiet and I felt my blood go cold.

As the court was dismissed all I could do was look at Darry. Darry’s face looked sad, like he wanted to cry. Sodapop was crying as the gang met up with us outside.

“What’s- what’s gonna happen with me?” I asked. No one could answer me, they just all looked at Darry.

“You’ll come with me, that’s all,” someone said from behind me. I jumped and looked at Angelina. Up close I could see her eyes more clearly. They were grayer than green and that made me a bit jealous.

“You!” Sodapop yelled as he pointed at Angelina, “you’re taking our brother away from us!”

Angelina’s face was perplexed before going back to a calm look. Then she looked at me.

“Y’all don’t know, do you?”

I just looked at her. Know what? Why she was taking me away from my brothers? I shook my head and she just looked away.

“It isn’t my place to tell you. You have to pack though, tomorrow we will go to Kansas-“

“To hell with that! You’re not taking him,” Sodapop yelled at her again. He pushed her and instantly was held back by Steve. I knew Steve was angry at Angelina too though. It seemed like the entire gang was ready to kill her.

“Look- it ain’t my choice. Lilith didn’t know she was gonna die and she just chose me. We can stay in Tulsa but I know what goes on here. Darrel, you can choose for Ponyboy to have a good life in Kansas, or stay here and become like y’all,” Angelina was starting to lose her cool. I couldn’t help but flinch at her voice. I didn’t want to leave but I didn’t have a choice.

I looked at Darry and his face was unreadable. Dallas however reacted for him.

“Like y’all? The fuck is that supposed to mean. You’re taking him away from family and you have the balls to make us seem bad?” Dallas sounded close to tears as he started to walk towards Angela. He held a glare in his eyes as a small crowd started to form from the commotion.

I looked from Dallas to Angela. The question was still unanswered and I feared for the answer.

Kansas? Away from the gang?

I had just lost my parents. Why would I want to lose the rest of my family? It was too soon for anything like this to happen. Before anything else could happen, Angela spoke up.

“I’ll be at your house tomorrow Darrel. I ask that you have an answer by then,” with that, Angelina walked away into a car. I just stood there and before long I was taken back home.

We all just stayed in the living room. No one looked at me. Something in me wanted to cry again, it felt just like when mom and dad died.

“So did y’all know her?” Two-Bit finally asked, breaking the silence. I shook my head and Sodapop did too. We looked over at Darry and he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I met her once, when I was Ponyboys age. Shes only two years older than me,” Darry looked at me.

“I didn’t think she was going to take you. She knows we’re family,” his voice started breaking as he got angrier, “Why did mom have to put her to take you? Why just you?”

The questions hung heavy in the air. I just looked down, tears welling in my eyes again.

“Am I staying here or going to-“

“Kansas,” Darry interrupted me. I looked at him in shock. Everyone else in the gang looked at him in shock and he just looked at me. Something in me was scared, almost wanting to run away.

Still, Darry’s face was certain. That made me sad and angry. Did he want me gone? Did he think I was a burden now? Before I could do anything, there was a hand on my back.

“Guess you have to pack,” it was Dally. I just looked at him and thought about the same questions I was thinking with Darry. Still I nodded and got up, albeit numbly. I couldn’t look at anyone as I walked into my room with a suitcase. Dallas helped me, as did everyone else but my brothers.

I knew why they didn’t. They were arguing in the living room, something they didn’t want me to hear. At that moment I didn’t want to hear it, I didn’t want to remember that there was a reason why it was only me leaving. When I was finished packing, I went to sleep.

Everyone else didn’t make fun of me for crying. I could see the anger in Darry’s eyes, the fear in Sodas, the uneasiness in Johnnys, some anger in Dallas’s and Steve’s, but sadness in Two-Bits. They all stayed over to get ready to say goodbye to me in the morning. I didn’t want to leave.

I don’t want to leave.

#might do it tbh #:3 #i don’t even know #mayneeee #the outsiders #ao3 writer #fanfic #write #se hinton #unfinished #ponyboy curtis

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kazemi-archive · 1 year

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Out of the House

Pairing: Oikawa Tōru x Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Genre: Angst

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of throwing up

Summary: Think all my friends secretly hate me. I tend to self-destruct when I’m left alone on weekends. I hate parties but I think I need to go to one. Hangovers suck but I think I need to get drunk and do reckless shit all in the name of being young. I think I just really need to get out of the house.

Part Eleven of Desiderium

A/N: If dialogue is in blue, this is irl something that was said to me or by me. Thank you for being here live for my therapy.

I sighed and stared at the ceiling of my living room, my head was laying uncomfortably on the arm of my couch, my legs haphazardly thrown over the other one and quickly going numb. However, I couldn’t be bothered enough to adjust my position. I picked up my phone and checked the time as I slid it open. No new messages. I dropped my phone back onto my chest. My messages to my friends were still left on delivered. Ones asking if we could find a time to get together. The first time I’d tried to ask in almost six months.

Six months since Tōru and I had ended. I had fallen into a slump with reaching out. Buried myself in work and then isolation. It had taken its toll. Seeing my friends go out and do things together. They’d stopped trying to talk to me too. And now, being left on delivered for the last few hours… made me think all my friends secretly hate me. My brain provided justification - that was why no one could hang out. Logically I know they were just busy but it didn’t change the thoughts.

I get it. I do. Being busy. It seemed like I was always busy lately. But whether they hated me or were just busy, I could really use a friend right now. It felt like I wasn’t myself lately and I knew exactly why, the complete change of never seeing my friends anymore was destructive to me.

But now, on the weekend, the first full weekend I’d had off in a while, I couldn’t help but shrink in on myself. I could feel the thoughts in my head growing heavy, being left alone on the weekend. It was something I hadn’t had to experience in quite a while. I’d had Tōru for so long to keep me from being alone. And in the six months since, I’d tried to not be off work for too long. But now, I was reminded of why I’d avoided staying home alone for long periods. I tended to self-destruct when left alone. To not leave my bed or my couch.

I sighed. And flipped to the picture the Makki had sent me a few weeks ago. It was an invite. To one of his friend’s parties. One for tonight. I’d said no originally. I hate parties, always had. So many people and situations where I had to interact. I hated everything about them. But staring at that invite, maybe it’s what I needed.

I dragged myself off the couch and over to my closet. I hadn’t spoken to Makki in a while and I wondered if it would be weird if I just showed up. I took a deep breath as I stared at my closet before opening my messages again.

Hey Hiro, the offer for the party tonight, still on the table?

I sat down, staring up at the closet, trying to imagine what I’d wear if I did go. Maybe a party was my solution to the feeling that was eating away at my insides now. The emptiness that came from not interacting with people. I need to go to one.

My phone rang with a reply. Just one word on the screen. Sure. I hated that word. But I would take it. I shook my head, convincing myself he meant it.

I needed this. I repeated it in my head every time I almost tried to talk myself out of going. I laid out my outfit and put on some music to help me get out of my head. It would help. Being able to be loud, sing to music, raise my voice over a crowd.

I got ready fast. A little too fast because I still had an hour before it would be acceptable for me to leave and not be too early.

I remember making the decision to start drinking. To pick up the unopened bottle of alcohol in my cabinet and finally open it, deciding that a little bit of liquid courage could be in order. If I was going to a party I would do it right. I remember getting into the uber tipsy and showing up, and barreling into Makki’s arms when I saw him, laughing as he smiled. I remember that. I didn’t however remember how I got here.

A hand was in my hair as I hunched over the toilet, holding back the strands as I groaned again. I rested my head against the cold of the seat, dreading what would become of me in the morning. Hangovers sucked, my least favorite thing, and I would definitely be getting one tomorrow morning.

“Are you okay?” Mattsun’s voice was soft as he brushed more hair out of my face, watching my expression screw up in pain. He sighed and rubbed my back comfortingly, dropping onto the floor next to me. “How much have you drunk?”

“I don’t know.” I mumbled my answer and cracked my eyes open to see his blurry face looking at me. “A lot.”

“That was some reckless shit, y/n. You know you can’t drink that much.” I felt terrible. It was no wonder that they could hate me. I sniffled and closed my eyes again. Reckless shit… for what? In the name of being young? Living out my 20s like Tōru was doing? I was sure he wasn’t crying on the bathroom floor of a stranger’s house right now. Shit. Crying.

“I’m sorry ‘Sei.” I mumbled and he shushed me, rubbing my back some more. “I didn’t mean to, please don’t hate me. I just wanted to be fun.”

“Hey,” he cupped my face, lifting it slowly, carefully, “I don’t hate you. None of us do. We’re just worried.” He sighed and I opened my eyes to look at him again and he looked almost sad. “You don’t have to be drunk to come have fun with us.” He propped me up, once he realized that I was done, and helped me stand as he flushed the toilet. He turned on the sink for me. “Let’s get you cleaned up, I’ll take you home?”

“I miss you guys.” I admitted, flinching when my hands hit the cold water. “I think I’m not allowed to hang out with you all, maybe I’m sabotaging that way, by not reaching out.”

“You know that-”

“I think maybe I’m making you all hate me.” I sniffled and ignored how he opened his mouth to talk, address the tears on my face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the night.” I hated this. It wasn’t even about Tōru anymore. This pain in my chest. It was feeling like he deserved to get all of our friends. That I couldn’t interact with them anymore.

Mattsun’s arms around me brought me back to the moment and I realized I had been sobbing. “Y/n, I think you really need to get out of the house.” If he didn’t hate me before then he must- “We don’t hate you, talk to us more. We don’t belong to him. We’re your friends too. You’re not getting rid of us that easily after so many years.”

a/n: no fun facts this time just... breaking up when you share friends makes you isolate from your friends some times.

#𓇻 Desiderium

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defira85 · 2 years

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tw: covid, tw: death

It’s been a rough few months to say the least

My boss got covid back in May. By early August, it was pretty obvious he had long covid. Anyone who’s been following me for long enough knows that it’s a real small business - there’s him and me and our receptionist, and we’ve got one girl off-site doing admin stuff. He hasn’t been able to work for almost 8 weeks now, and there’s a point coming soon where he won’t be able to keep paying us all

I’ve been trying to keep spirits up as best I can and keep things running

Then I got covid

It was honestly not as horrific as I was scared of, and right up until the moment when I got the text confirming a positive test, I was convinced I didn’t have it. Which was weird, given how terrified I’ve been of it for the last 2 and a half years. Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t been easy, but I’ve been convinced I was going to die, absolutely certain it was going to kill me. The fact that I got through the worst of it without needing to go to hospital is unfathomable to me

But it hasn’t been easy. It’s almost 5 weeks now and I’m still symptomatic. Nowhere near as bad as the first 2 weeks, but it’s not letting me go. I’m trying to stay positive (again) about avoiding long covid but with every day that passes and I’m still showing symptoms, things look a little bleaker. I might have to find a new job before the end of the year, how am I going to find a new job while I have long covid? when I already have fibro?

Last Friday morning, we got a phone call from Tom’s dad

His mum had a massive heart attack during the night and had been rushed to hospital. I won’t go into the particulars of everything that’s happened in the last week, but to summarise, she never woke up. We lost her on Wednesday. The woman who was more of a mother to me than my own mother for the last decade was just gone without warning. And because I’m still symptomatic even if I’m returning negative RATs, I wasn’t allowed into the hospital

I never got to see her again. I had to say goodbye over the phone

I haven’t cried since it happened. I think everything is just too much to cry right now. I know it’s coming, but everything just feels so surreal and comically over the top at how catastrophic life has gone off the rails so fast that I swing between numb and hysterical

I’m trying to stay positive about things because if I don’t try, I’m going to break. I’m holding on by the slimmest thread

So that’s been me

Its her birthday in 3 weeks

#defira rambles

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phawareglobal · 9 months

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Don Downey - phaware® interview 431

Canadian pulmonary hypertension care partner, Don Downey

My name's Don Downey. I'm from Calgary, Alberta. My wife, Kathy, was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary hypertension in March of 2020. It actually goes back way before that. She started having problems in December of 2015. We'd gone many times to her general practitioner. He sent her to specialists. She went to an internist, who basically told her she had asthma. That didn't really work. She tried puffers and all that type of stuff. Nothing of that worked. She was then sent to a respirologist, one of the top ones in the city. It basically boiled down to she was told to lose some weight, and then, hopefully, that would make things better. Over the next couple of years, she'd do an annual visit with him. It wasn't getting better. He just kept saying during the one year she had lost like 60 pounds over the course of the year, it was still "Just lose some more weight" and everything. In February of 2020, she went to the emergency room because she was having numbness in her arms. She was talking to the ER doc. He was going through her case file and all the tests that had been done over the years and everything else. There was one that he was looking at. She asked him if she could have a copy of it, and she sent it to me. I was down in San Diego visiting a friend who's a forensic pathologist, so a doctor. She sent it to me and said, "Well, can you ask him if there's any questions I should ask this ER doc?" I asked him, and he looked at it, and I think he spent about 30 seconds, and he said, "Yeah, can you ask him why you have pulmonary hypertension?" Actually, on the report from this test that they had done two and a half years prior, September 2017, it said "pulmonary hypertension?" Nothing had happened in between. Nobody had noted that and thought to test her for it. She asked the ER doc, and he got a whole bank of tests done right away. From there, it ended up she was sent back and ended up going back to the same internist who told her again, "I think it's just asthma," even though we already had a good idea it was PH. The following week her regular checkup with the respirologist. She had to do a stress test before it. She got about halfway through the stress test, and she just couldn't go any further.

Then we went upstairs. Normally, we'd be sitting in the waiting area for a while, and then they put us into one of the exam rooms, which was across from his office. We would be sitting in the exam room. We could see across. He was working on his computer, finishing off whatever the previous patient was. On this day, he met us at the door. We didn't even do the waiting room. As soon as we got up there, it was right into his office. So we knew there was something weird going on. Very quickly, he had us booked in with the PH clinic in Calgary. She did her right heart catheterization and everything else. She had her right heart catheter on Thursday, March 12th, 2020, and then we went back for the results on the 13th. So, Friday the 13th of March, which was the day that the world shut down, was the day that she was diagnosed. We had a lot of uncertainty and a lot of things where what's going to go on, because even they were trying to figure out. All of a sudden, you've got COVID. Everything's locked down. How do you go about doing all the visits and everything else that normally would happen? We were lucky enough to have a doctor that, on the one day, it took a little bit longer because he was doing stuff. So it took a few extra days before he was really able to do stuff where we would've normally done trips to the clinic. But there was one day where he spent an hour and a half on a Zoom call with us just to make sure that we were ready for it and all.

We, at the time, didn't look back. We looked forward. But as we've gone along, we've looked back at things that might have been missed. There was this disconnect because the clinic was still trying to figure out what they were going to do. The day that we got diagnosed, that was the last time we were in that clinic for a couple of months. Normally, you'd do half a dozen visits to the clinic. It took a little while for stuff and just getting the information. And, of course, the first thing he said as soon as he said, "You have PH," is, "Don't Google it." Of course, when you're not getting information, and they could only get the information out to you so quick because they're trying to do the transition -- so we Googled it. You're looking at now we're in this situation where we've Googled it. It says that this is the average life expectancy. We know that we had two and a half years from when it should have, in our opinion, at the time because now we know that this was questioned at that time. It's like, "Okay, so we take two and a half off. Well, that's not a lot of time." So, that was the thing. It took a while because we had to wait for the clinic to be able to give us the actual information and give us stuff that worked for her situation. They tried to keep us out for as long as they could, so it was probably, I think it was about six weeks before we did one. But even that, it was a matter of you had to go through all the protocols to get in. You had to do everything that you were safe and all that because she had severe PH right from the start. She was on high-flow oxygen within days of her diagnosis. So it was something where they wanted to put her in the hospital to be able to try to do stuff, and they said, "Well, it's not safe." So she didn't actually get to some of the treatment and some of the stuff that they wanted to do until the hospitals were opening up a little bit more, and they could do stuff. One of the nice things is that we actually had two adult children that were living at home at the time. So we had them. Also, we've got a house, a two-story house with a walkout basement, and there's a basement suite. Her parents lived down there. The girl that my son was going out with at the time was also with us there. So there were seven of us in the house. It was a busy place. We figured out how to deal with things. I had to figure out how to deal with the oxygen and figuring out how to change cylinders and do that quickly so that she wasn't without oxygen for any periods of time. We did a lot of grocery delivery and that type of thing, so that I wasn't going out just because of the risk. She's had a lot of ups and downs. She's been through different therapies that try something. Some of them have worked. She's on triple therapy. So far this year, since the beginning of January, she's had three different stints in the hospital. So she's probably spent about seven weeks total. She had a gastrointestinal bleed that nobody knows what it was, but the way that her numbers were for her hemoglobin back in January when this happened, they couldn't even do a scope to check. She can't be sedated or any of that. So she ended up one of her other times that she went in, they were able to do the scope. But they weren't able to figure it out, which is causing some issues with her potential for transplant. Kathy's the type of person that she was actually not overly outspoken. She was the type that didn't want to have anybody mad at what she said and those types of things. Once she was diagnosed, and she started looking into things, and she was pointed out by the clinic to PHA Canada. Then, she got onto the Canadian friends' Facebook page and got talking to people there, it just exploded for her where she started wanting to know more, wanting to learn, wanting to help other people learn and that type of thing. She was a research librarian in the past, so of course, she's the type that, "I'm going to look into this. I want to do that." We could see there were things, like the amount of time it took for her diagnosis is one of the big things for me for becoming an ambassador to try to advocate for better educational situations for doctors, for general practitioners, to know enough about PH to think of it a lot sooner. That was the big thing. It just morphed out of what she was doing. I'm along for the ride, but I'm loving it. The big thing is you literally go on a day-to-day basis, because the ups and downs can happen real quick. You hope that she can keep going for as long as possible, that she can get all the stuff figured out, get her weight down that little bit, and figure out this GI bleed, and be able to look at the transplant, which would be a major thing for her because her PH was already advanced enough by the time she was diagnosed to be problematic. It almost puts it where that is the next outcome. She also has a hole in the heart. It's one that you have when you're born that normally closes up. Hers didn't. So there are certain therapies she can't take because of it. We know that, basically, the next thing is a transplant. So it's figuring out all of the things and hoping that that's going to happen. We both want to make as big of a mark on things to try to help so that people don't have to go through what we've gone through and so that we can get it towards finding a cure or finding better therapies that'll make things better. I'm Don Downey, and I'm aware that my wife is rare. Learn more about pulmonary hypertension trials at www.phaware.global/clinicaltrials. Follow us on social @phaware Engage for a cure: www.phaware.global/donate #phaware Share your story: [email protected] @phacanada

Listen and View more on the official phaware™ podcast site

#pulmonary hypertension #phaware #rare disease #lung disease #clinical trials #podcast #PH #asthma

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sexyvampkitty · 2 years

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RP Mini-Solo 19: 'Emotions Suck...Strike Three'

I sit here...all alone...on the edge of the bed in my hotel room...staring out of the window into the black nothingness...a half-full glass of Bourbon clutched tightly in my right hand...fingers squeezing hard enough almost to the point of making it shatter. I swiped the Bourbon from my latest ex boyfriend's stash just before I left his house. I figured he owed me one for what he did to me...chaining me up and trying to starve me and all. Yep. That's right. I'm single...again. With my humanity switch still off...I 'should' feel nothing beyond pleasant numbness...however...right now...one single emotion is managing to push it's way through. Anger. No. Make that...pure rage. I am beyond pissed at the moment. I'm still not sure what in the Hell happened. After 'finally' unchaining me from the wall of the Salvatore house basement room...not before leaving me there for quite a few hours...I walked right out of the room...shooting him my best menacing glare as I passed by him...back up to the large parlor slash living area...swiped a bottle on my way to the front door...left the house...and I haven't seen him since. That was over...two weeks ago. It doesn't take a freaking genius to figure out what went down. He dumped my almost-cheating ass...without so much as a 'Good Bye'. So yeah...I guess I 'do' kind of know what happened...still...he said that he wanted to be with me...for whatever reason...and then turns around and dumps me? That's just beyond low. Screw him then. I guess I was right about what I said before...about not letting anyone in. I've had my heart torn from my chest and stomped on...it might as well be literally...one too many times now...three...in fact...and I honestly don't know how much more of this crap I can take. If I happened to flip my switch back on...the way that I am now...I'd probably be trying to find a way to end myself...once and for all...and...I can't help but wonder...would I even cry? Or am I past the point of shedding any more tears? Honestly...I seem to have the 'worse' luck...ever...when it comes to relationships. My first boyfriend up and disappeared on me...without a word...my husband...past tense...dust in the wind...make that dessicated behind a random bar in Georgia somewhere...more or less divorced me because we disagreed on matters of starting a 'family'. He wanted it...I didn't. Well...there were 'other' issues...but that was the biggest one. The dinosaur...screw the damn elephant...in the room...so to speak. And now...my last boyfriend just dumped me because he caught me in bed with someone else...another Damon twin...even though we never actually had sex...or touched at all...for that matter. I squeeze the glass a little bit tighter...starting to hear it crack slightly. I guess I'm just not compatible with anyone. Why? Is it me? Do I always do something wrong? Why does everyone keep leaving me? Maybe I don't deserve to be loved at all. I guess I was right about the other thing that I said before too...I'm better off being alone. With one final squeeze...the glass in my hand finally gives way...pointy shards digging into my palm...piercing the skin...warm alcohol trickling down to mingle with my blood. I feel absolutely nothing as I stare down at the weird mixture of brown and crimson traveling down my arm in long rivulets. Screw this. I'm done. I might as well pack up and leave...maybe go back home...Los Angeles...for a bit...or travel around the country again...go to all of the places that I didn't see when I was too busy chasing after my bastard of an ex husband...and then some...maybe see the whole world this time. There's really nothing keeping me in this damn town anymore. And I'm done hooking up with anyone else...for a 'long' time. I doubt that there is much left of my heart to kick around at this point. I carefully pick the shards out of my palm...one by one...then continue to start out into the night. Hmmm...although...maybe I'll stick around for a little while longer...at least until the new year. It might be time for another mini-Christmas massacre again. A slow...evil smirk tugs up one corner of my mouth...and keeps going...threatening to split my face in half at that thought. I haven't done that since last year...when my 'first' boyfriend kept vanishing on me. A brief sigh passes my partially parted lips at the visuals my reminiscing suddenly bring up. Ahhhh...good times. I can't 'wait' to do that again. Screw my ex's. And screw this town. Anyone who doesn't want to die a horrible...painful...and possibly 'very' slow death...whether they be human or vampire...had better stay the Hell out of my way. Merry Freaking Christmas to me...again. [END]

#tvd #roleplay

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nutellanbread · 2 years

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Grief...?

I have this note on my phone that says “I think everyone oversimplifies grief.” I remember writing it a few months ago and I still agree. Every time I see it my brain just goes quiet and goes “yeah” even though my emotions and feelings, or how I cope with that changes.

Grief is oversimplified. It’s so much more than what people make it out to be. It’s so different for every single person. It’s even different for one particular person at different periods of time. I don’t know why I felt so lost...and almost betrayed when I realized that the words “sadness” and “pain” and so many other synonyms weren’t enough anymore to explain how I felt. It’s not like someone grabbed me and told me “THIS IS HOW/WHAT YOU’LL FEEL” and yet, somehow, that’s exactly what the notion in my head was. Maybe it was the books? I don’t know. I needed new words and I needed new phrases for the new ways my mind and body were reacting when I thought about the event(s) that gave me grief.

Usually, what do we think about when we think about grief? Heart hurting or squeezing painfully, mind going numb or having a flashback, tears flowing..? I don’t know, I’m not sure. But in my case, that’s what I thought it was, that’s what I thought it would be. Until now. As sucky as it sounds, and privileged as well, I think I experienced actual grief for the first time now, in my mid 20s. It’s gonna sound stupid now because now is when I mention that this whole thing is about my cats. But oh well, no one’s gonna read this. And even if anyone does (high doubts), I hope you understand where I’m coming from and I am so sorry if you do, whatever that reason for understanding may be.

So anyway, when I made that note, I think it was about one of my cats who had died recently at that time in May. But today, I was going through some old pictures while trying to find something and I found a picture of another kitten of mine who died last year November because of an extremely unfortunate and freak accident, in my opinion, if I’m being honest. Wow, I just realized it’s gonna be a year soon. Just. Wow.

Right. So. I found that picture and I stared at her. It was from after her accident, my cousin had taken it and she was actually looking better for the first time since the accident. And I realized something weird. I didn’t have the urge to cry, at least, it wasn’t that strong and my heart wasn’t hurting and my brain didn’t go numb or just...anything really. I felt nothing like I had been feeling all these days and weeks and months. But suddenly, I just couldn’t breathe. It felt like a huge hand had wrapped around my nose and mouth, index finger and thumb squeezed my nose tight and the palm just pressed my mouth shut. I couldn’t breathe in or out, my airpipe felt completely empty. My heart felt heavy but not in the usual way it normally does. It felt like it was full of rocks or stones, or like someone had tied something super heavy to my heart and it just wanted to fall to my feet, through the ground and into the oblivion. And that’s it.

Maybe this is normal to other people but for me it was so new. I had never felt anything like this, ever. I’ve never felt or visualized so many details before. It was interesting, for sure. And it immediately made me think of what I’d saved in my notes - I think everyone oversimplifies grief.

#random #rambling #ramblings #brain dump

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cerpintaxtt · 2 years

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Migraines are so cool and fun.

I’ve gotten them for most of my life. I remember being like 7 or so and getting them every day. This was in the 90s and back then they sent me in for all sorts of testing, diagnostic imaging of my brain, you name it. I remember being in some dark room with a bunch of electrodes stuck to me or whatever. Anyways. They couldn’t figure out why tiny kid me was getting daily migraines. The migraines slowly subsided as I hit puberty and I didn’t get them until after I gave birth to my kid. And I mean like… two weeks after or something.

Ever since then, I’ve been getting them with increased frequency. From one every few years and now we’re at like maybe two a year. And unlike when I was a kid, I get the aura and numb hands and face along with the nausea and pain. And if I don’t rest during immediate postdrome, I’ll most likely get another one the following day. Learned that the hard way. Also my PCP was entirely unhelpful when I approached them about the increased frequency, but now that I don’t require a referral, I should just go see a specialist.

Anyways. I’ve got a weird headache rn. I wouldn’t even call it a headache. Since last night, I very occasionally get this quick, lightly sharp pain in my eye and in the back/top of my head at the same time. It seems to be somewhat linked to sensitivity. And I’ve gotten this before, but not for this long. Again, it’s like brief half seconds of pain that seem to be somewhat linked to like sudden movement and shit.

So then like here I am anxious because do I have a fucking brain tumor or is this just what I’m doomed to suffer randomly because of my migraines? Because Google tells me that like hey if you suffer from migraines then shrug, you’re in a weird club with weird symptoms that include other types of headaches. Also I drank a little caffeine to help combat it, and I don’t typically drink caffeine so now I’m even more anxious. Cool.

The reasonable part or me reminds myself that I am just prone to headaches, I’m stressed rn, I’m tensing my muscles from anxiety, and I’m probably not eating and drinking enough (I’ve recently adjusted my diet. Probably this.) The anxious part says I’m dying.

Migraines, am I right?

#migraine #headache

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twilight-orchid · 3 years

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How The Demon Brothers React After Fighting With Their SO

tw: some angst with resolution at the end, mentions of past arguments, insecurity.

Lucifer:

This man is petty as hell.

He doesn’t do the silent treatment, but he acts like you aren’t dating.

If you need to work on something together, you’re a co-worker.

At RAD you’re a classmate.

Around the house you’re just a housemate.

His poker face is immaculate and it will not crack when you’re around.

If someone didn’t know what was happening, they’d probably think you two barely knew each other.

However, you won’t notice, but as soon as you look the other way his eyes are on you.

He’s used to arguing with his brothers and is no stranger to explosive fights that end with he and the other person not being on speaking terms.

But you’re different.

He tries to go on with business as usual, but he can’t think about anything other than how much he misses you.

Yet, he lets it continue because he just can’t put his pride aside and apologize.

If you decide to sleep in your old room it’ll both hurt his feelings and royally piss him off.

He thinks you’re being childish and will be pretty rude about it, but that’s because internally his blood just ran cold.

It adds a degree of seriousness to the argument that he’s uncomfortable with.

Yes he’s mad, but he can’t lose you.

If you still sleep in his bed, he makes sure to scoot over to the very edge so he doesn’t cuddle you in his sleep.

In fact, the first night after the argument he’d probably put a pillow between you just to really punctuate the fact that he’s still upset.

I’d say it could go 4 days to a week tops without you making up.

After a point though, he just can’t function until the issue is resolved. He can’t sleep, he’s falling behind on his work, and he’s just generally not doing well.

You get called to his office one night and find him at his desk surrounded by piles of paper, disheveled and exhausted.

“MC, come sit down. I’d like to talk this through. Please.”

Mammon:

He’s so dramatic.

You dare defy him? The Great Mammon can’t believe this tiny fragile human would have the audacity.

The theatrics are just a front though.

His ‘The Great Mammon’ act is a mask for his insecurity, one he hasn’t had to use with you in awhile.

Even as the words leave his mouth he regrets them.

He’s going to be very uncomfortable with everything until the argument is resolved, but most of all himself.

He’s learned not to take his brothers too seriously when they toss insults his way, but words have a way of morphing to belief over time.

Internally he is going to be super hard on himself.

Regardless of if the fight was his fault or not, he’s going to kick himself constantly for making yet another mistake.

He’s over the argument pretty fast. The anger quickly melts into anxiety.

Are you going to leave him? Do you hate him? Did he hurt your feelings?

That being said, he doesn’t know if you’re still mad and he doesn’t know how to ask.

As a defense mechanism, he defaults to how he treated you when you first arrived in the devildom.

Calls you human, disregards you, stuff like that.

If you decide to sleep in another room, before midnight expect him to be knocking on the door.

“Oi, MC. You awake? I just - I can’t - *sigh* Can we talk about this?”

If you sleep in his bed, he makes a point of sleeping with his back to you.

Less because he’s actually mad and more because he doesn’t want his image of you as he drifts to sleep to be a look of anger.

Though as soon as he passes out he’ll roll over and tuck you into his arms on instinct.

I’d say any after effects of an argument with Mammon would be resolved in a day, maybe two tops.

Leviathan:

Arguing activates his trolling the forums mode.

Goes back to calling you a normie and contradicts everything you say.

He’s less mad about the argument and more using the bitterness to cope with how upset he is.

He feels like a break up is less of an if and more of a when.

Why would someone as amazing as you settle for weird otaku like him?

Honestly doesn’t understand why you’re with him in the first place, so when there’s a serious argument he assumes its over.

Tbh don’t know how you and Levi would sleep together being that I doubt two could fit in a tub, but any deviation to your routine sends him into a panic.

It’s his reality check that the situation is serious and he needs to fix it NOW.

He’d have trouble apologizing in person. He can’t think of what to say, he stumbles over his words, and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack.

Instead, expect a long ass text message.

He says how sorry he is, how much he misses and loves you, and legit begs you to forgive him.

If you sleep with him like normal, he’ll probably try to make up after laying there for awhile. His mind is going a million miles an hour and there’s no way he can sleep.

Still really has trouble verbalizing how he feels, so give the poor boy a break and take over the conversation.

He hasn’t had a serious relationship before and he doesn’t know what he should do to make it better.

So the after effects will last however long it takes him to read several mangas, watch some anime, and play a few games to see how the characters get over arguments in the story.

Satan:

Satan makes sure not to fight with you over minor issues.

He’s worked tirelessly to tame his wrath and he refuses to feed into it over a minor issue.

Thus, if you fight with Satan it’s a major argument and it’s explosive.

The aftermath isn’t much better.

He doesn’t want to risk blowing up again, so he’s frighteningly calm.

He’s an absolute master of the silent treatment.

He won’t say a word to you until he’s certain he’s calmed down enough.

For the first few days he’ll straight up leave a room if you enter.

For a good while the only way you can expect to communicate with him is through his body language and the expression in his eyes.

Satan’s biggest fear is losing control and lashing out at you.

He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you and he can’t stand the thought of you being afraid of him.

He’s a whirlwind of emotions, so he isolates himself until he can figure out how to deal with it.

Not just from you, but from everyone else too.

Satan will not share a bed with you for at least the first night.

If he got worked up enough to actually fight, it’s gonna take him time to simmer down.

And he’d rather not risk doing or saying something he regrets in the meantime.

Once he’s ready, he’ll approach you when he’s completely calmed down and has thoroughly analyzed the situation.

He’s considered both of your sides, tried to pinpoint what caused the disagreement to turn into a fight, and made a plan of action to prevent it from happening again.

“MC? I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what happened. Would you please talk it through with me?”

He won’t apologize for the argument if he feels like he was right, but he will apologize for letting the disagreement escalate into a fight.

Satan could go weeks without making up if necessary, but he tries to resolve it within a couple of days.

Asmodeus:

Wants to give you the silent treatment, but is physically incapable.

He can’t stand to have you ignore him.

He’s the type to go back to normal then suddenly remembers you guys had a fight.

“Wait, no! I’m not talking to you! I’m mad at you!”

His biggest downfall is that he’s so stubborn.

If he thinks he was right, he will die on that hill.

There are arguments with his brothers that happened a thousand years ago and he could still tell you exactly why he was right.

But with you, he realizes that doesn’t matter too him nearly as much as it usually does.

If it means going back to normal, he’ll forget who’s right or wrong.

If you sleep in another room, he’s beyond offended.

“What?! Well fine! I don’t want you in my bed anyway!”

Laying in bed alone is a different story though.

He can’t sleep. All he can think about is you. Your face when you sleep next to him, your smell, the feeling of his arms around you.

He 100% cries.

Finally goes and knocks on your door with wet, glossy eyes.

“MC? Can we talk about this? I can’t get my beauty sleep and my tears are wiping off all of my skin care lotion!”

Will throw himself into your arms before you can answer.

If you sleep next to him still, he rolls over and watches you sleep.

It puts him at peace and he decides seeing your sweet, resting face every morning is worth more to him than the argument.

He’ll initiate the conversation the next morning.

I think Asmo could make it a few days if it was a really serious argument, but he will not function well until you make up.

Beelzebub:

Wants to make up immediately.

He doesn’t like to argue, even less so with you.

Whether he was right or wrong, he blames himself. He’ll take all the blame in the world if it makes you happy.

He’ll go make you your favorite food and bring it to you.

If he thinks you don’t want to talk to him, he’ll leave it outside your door and text you to let you know it’s there.

He’s honestly devastated if you decide to sleep in another room.

You guys migrate to your old room when you want privacy from Belphie, but you almost never sleep separately.

Seeing you grab your pillows and march out of the room nearly stops his heart.

He goes completely numb and silent as he just stares at the space you had just occupied.

Like Levi, he thinks this means the relationship is over and he genuinely does not know what to do with himself.

He can’t even bring himself to eat, he just wants to lie there, lost and trying to grapple with his emotions.

He’s another one who will absolutely cry, but unlike Asmo he will make sure no one knows it.

If you still sleep in his bed, he’s very nervous about it.

He doesn’t know if it’s okay to touch you, what he can or can’t say, stuff like that.

He just lays there stiff as a board not even able to close his eyes.

Honestly the fight would probably have to be resolved before bed. His anxiety just can’t take it.

I don’t think he’d initiate the apology. Not because he doesn’t want to make up but because his confidence is rock bottom in these situations.

He catastophizes and honestly thinks you hate him.

If you don’t initiate the apology soon, Belphie will. He can feel what his twin won’t say, and he knows Beel won’t approach you about it for fear of making it worse.

Belphie will lock you two in a room if that’s what it takes for you to make up.

Belphegor:

The embodiment of if looks could kill.

He won’t talk to you, won’t look at you, basically pretends you aren’t there.

If he must interact with you he’ll roll his eyes and sigh the whole time.

Tries to sleep through any interaction so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

He feels almost betrayed by the fight.

He thought the relationship was stronger than to have such a huge divide, so he’s really insecure about it.

After the first day, the anger has melted away to guilt.

He ‘s not guilty that you fought, but he is guilty about how he treated you after.

Guilt and self-blame have become unwelcome friends at this point. Guilt over Lilith, over his plans to destroy the human world, everything.

But more than anything else, the guilt for the fact that he attacked you weighs on him every day.

He moved past it quickly after, essentially pretending he hadn’t killed you, but that’s because he just couldn’t confront what he’d done.

He feels like the luckiest demon alive that you forgave him, let alone opened you heart enough to love him, and now it’s all in tatters.

Another thing to regret.

If you decide to sleep separately, it’ll hit him like a bag of bricks.

“You - what? Where are you going?”

It’ll take him a second to process what you were doing, but then he’ll roll over and let you leave.

“Fine. Don’t let the door hit you.”

No one will see him for awhile.

Belphie sleeps all the time anyway, but he just can’t make himself get out of bed.

If you don’t approach him to apologize, Beel will tell you that he’s been nauseous and randomly emotional which must mean his twin is coping very badly.

Will beg you to go make Belphie happy again.

If you sleep in his bed still, the argument will be resolved by morning.

He can’t keep himself from embracing you in his sleep, and it’s hard to say you’re mad at someone when you wake up in their loving arms.

It’s hard to pinpoint how long it could last with Belphie. If you don’t apologize first, he won’t let himself be conscious long enough to approach you.

This is both my first hc post as well as my first obey me post so I’m sorry if le boys are ooc. I just got this idea and couldn’t stop thinking about it so here we are. Especially Belphie, he was hard to me for some reason. Let me know if you guys agree or disagree and if you want to send a request or ask, my box is open!

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bastillewolf · 4 years

Text

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

#corpse husband #Corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #youtube #youtube fanfiction #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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2jaeh · 3 years

Text

TRUE FRIENDS | MARK LEE

Genre: angst, smut

Warnings: mature themes, dom!Mark, jealous!Mark, slight jaehyunxreader, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 3,6k

Author: SIN

You’re trying to figure out why Mark has been so mad at you since you both agreed on being friends with benefits, Mark on the hand is trying to figure out why the rules between him and Jaehyun were...different.

A/N: it’s angsty but it gets cute I promise! Also I wrote this after listening to Heavenly - cigs after sex! About a thousand times.

—————————————————————————

“When are you guys going to just speak to each other ?” Johnny groaned, following you into the fifth floor dorm kitchen as you placed your mug into the sink.

You turned around and sighed, leaning against the counter as the eager, tall browned haired boy waited for your answer.

“I told you I tried talking to him at Joy’s party last week but he snubbed me...what do you want me to do ?”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows as if whatever answer you had given him was still not enough. He knew there was more to the story because how can a friends with benefits situation turn so fucking sour in a matter of four weeks ?

“You guys are childish” Johnny huffed, “this is why it should’ve never happened in the first place.”

“You’re the one that pushed us into his dorm that one night knowing we were drunk, what else did you expect to happen ?” You shot back, gripping the sides of the marble countertop.

“Uh...not fuck ?” Johnny shrugged and you shot him a glare before he raised his hands to defend himself,

“All I’m saying is that Mark ain’t the meanest guy around so if he’s mad then maybe it’s serious.”

————————————————————————

Mark was stuck in the booth at the company building, unknowing that it was already past 11pm and most of the staff had gone home. His tired eyes ran over his lyrics for the 20th time, analysing each section, trying to improve what he had, but his mind was elsewhere.

“Knock knock” Mark swivelled his chair to the door and half smiled when he saw Jungwoo’s head pop in with a bottle of soju and chicken.

“What are you doing here man ?” Mark rubbed his eye, placing his lyric book on the soundboard and stretched his arms above his head. Jungwoo took a seat on the couch and unpacked the meal on the wooden coffee table in front of him,

“You’ve been here all day, you didn’t even meet us for dinner” Jungwoo pouted and handed Mark a cup filled with a mixture of soju and sprite.

Mark shot back the drink and sifted through the pieces of chicken, “yeah I was working, kinda lost track of time”

“You’ve been out of it for the past week, is everything okay ? Is this about....y/n ?” Jungwoo’s voice was cautious as he noticed Mark’s eyes narrow at the sound of your name.

“I told you all of that was over” Mark took a measly bite of the chicken and threw it aside, opting for another cup of soju instead.

“You never told me what happened though,” Jungwoo interjected, “all I know you guys were hooking up and next minute every time you two were in a room together it was tense as fuck.”

Mark chewed on his bottom lip and slumped in his chair knowing Jungwoo was going to pester him until he gave him a valid answer.

“Well after that first night we hooked up y/n laid down some ground rules, the usual you know” Mark explained, his thoughts going back to the first night that he spent with you,

“No feelings, freely hooking up with other people, no spending a full night together, no holding hands, like just none of that shit.”

“So just hooking up and leaving ?” Jungwoo raised his brow, his mouth filled with chicken.

Mark nodded, “yeah apparently to preserve our friendship and not make it weird for the friend group or whatever.”

As Mark spoke he felt the pain he felt 13 days ago, when everything had crumbled right before him. When instead of ignoring the matter he pondered on it, made it play in his mind and ruin him.

“What changed ?” Jungwoo poured the both of them another drink and joined Mark in downing their fourth shot for the night.

“What changed was, “ Mark let out a dry chuckle, “what changed was that y/n was also fucking Jaehyun but his rules were obviously very different.”

Mark’s mind flashed to the night he finished work late and when he walked by Jaehyun’s bedroom he heard your voice. You were softly moaning out Jaehyun’s name and not his.

“Y/n stayed the night in Jaehyun’s room and in the morning she barely greeted me and the two of them were being lovey dovey in the kitchen while making breakfast” Mark topped off his glass with a little more soju than the usual ratio and gulped it down.

“I had no right to get mad right ? Well a couple days later y/n came over I had to hear about how much Jaehyun’s date wasn’t good enough for him or why it was the reason y/n never got into relationships”

Mark’s head was spinning at this point and normally he hated over sharing but it just felt so good to finally let everything out. He had liked you for ages and even confessed to you once before the two of you actually hooked up. As usual you had brushed it over and Mark settled for hooking up instead, as you were “emotionally distant” you had told him.

But the way you reacted to Jaehyun seeing someone else told a different story all together. You were just like him, your feelings weren’t considered, you were only there for a quick no strings attached, that was all.

It made Mark so mad that he decided to cut you off completely. He stopped answering your texts and tried his best to avoid you at all costs. When you tried to contact him at Joy’s Party last week he wanted to tell you everything but then he heard you tell Haechan that he was not talking to you because “he was temperamental.”

You were so careless with his feelings that he wanted nothing to do with you, but every single time he caught a glimpse of you, he just wished he could’ve ignored his feelings and just continued the way you wanted to.

“We should get back to the dorm it’s getting late” Jungwoo sighed and cleaned up the takeaway boxes and stuffed the empty soju bottle into his backpack.

Mark mumbled a yes and got to his feet even though the room spun around him. He had no idea when he had gotten so intoxicated but it numbed the pain he felt...for the moment.

Jungwoo swung open the door of 10th floor and dragged Mark in, hoping everybody would’ve been asleep by now.

“Yooooo did we miss a party or something ?” Johnny yelled from the lounge and Jungwoo groaned under his breath.

Mark looked up wondering why the fifth floor boy was here and then he noticed Jaehyun seated next him followed by you sitting up close next to Jaehyun.

“Great” Mark mumbled under his breath as Jungwoo tried his best to hold him up.

Jungwoo propped Mark up on the bar stool as he got the younger boy a glass of water to ease his state.

“What the hell happened ?” You asked, slowly approaching the kitchen yet still keeping a safe distance from Mark who was practically sliding off the bar stool.

“Hey be careful” you scolded him, rushing to his side to prop him back onto the seat.

“Leave me alone y/n” Mark muttered as he shrugged out of your hold and propped his elbows up on the counter, burying his head in his hands.

Y/n is just trying to help man” Mark heard Jaehyun say followed by his footsteps approaching the kitchen alongside Johnny. Mark rolled his eyes and took a sip of the water Jungwoo had provided for him before pushing away from the counter and got to his feet.

“I don’t need help from any of you” Mark slurred his words as he tried to find his balance but to his dismay only had him crashing into Johnny.

“Seems like you do” Johnny pursed his lips and held the black haired boy up.

Mark uttered a few curses under his breath until you had enough and dragged him down the hallway into his bedroom and shut the door behind you.

“What the hell is wrong with you Mark Lee ?” You folded your arms as the boy stumbled back onto his bed and sunk into the soft mattress avoiding your eyes.

“Get out y/n” he said under his breath.

“No” you replied sternly and Mark groaned at your stubbornness.

“Why are you here ? Shouldn’t you be in Jaehyuns bed right now ?” Mark’s words made you frown, oblivious to his distaste toward the idea of you and Jaehyun being together.

“Mark” you cautioned and sat next to him on the bed, “can you please tell me what’s going on ?”

“You, him, us, everything” Mark rubbed his eyes and looked over at you, “y/n I’m trying to get over it and you’re not helping right now.”

“Get over what Mark ??!”

“You! Damn man, get over you” Mark yelled, his voice slightly breaking and his heavy breathing turned to soft sobs. You swallowed hard as you watched the guy you always had known to be the positive energy in the room sob over something you had done to him.

This was all your fault.

“Mark when did you-“

“Since a while ago, come on I even confessed to you” Mark wiped away his tear with his black sweater.

You Ofcourse remembered his confession but at the time you weren’t ready and neither was he, and the two of you agreed to stay friends. Then the hook up happened and in order to honor the deal of staying friends you enforced the rules. It was about two weeks of your escapades did Jaehyun kiss you unexpectedly while you were rummaging through his vinyl collection. One thing led to another and you were in his bed, allowing him to have his way with you and even let him convince you to spend the night.

You didn’t think much of it but Jaehyun was a sweet guy and for a second you entertained the idea of having a tiny crush on him, until the very next day he had mentioned Mark.

‘Mark really likes you y/n, how do you feel about him?’ Jaehyun had said while the two of you prepared breakfast.

Mark was great. He was more than great and someone like you didn’t deserve him you thought.

‘Mark’s cool’ you casually replied to Jaehyun knowing you suppressed a lot of feelings when it came to Mark, especially since you had already scrapped the idea of you two being together when he confessed.

‘I think you guys should give it a try’ Jaehyun had told you, which confirmed you and him were just going to be a one time thing.

When you had met Mark a few days later you kept thinking about what Jaehyun had said and the effect it had on you but you weren’t ready to make the first move. You went on to Mark about Jaehyun thinking he’d speak up about it and let you know that Jaehyun wasn’t good for you and you’d respond by kissing him and fixing everything,

But what happened after was not what you had planned.

You hurt him and played it off knowing Mark was head strong and he’d be back to normal the next week. You expected him to be back to his goofy self, ranting to you about God knows what and ending it with his classic “should we make out now or -“

You bit down on your lip as you looked over at Mark who had now fell asleep, his black locks falling over his swollen eyes as he peacefully fell into his slumber.

Not wanting to wake him or leave his side you opted for the floor, pulling an extra pillow from the closet and a rolled up foam mattress that was hidden at the back. Your heavy eyes finally closed but your heart still raced, not knowing how to overcome the situation you were in.

————————————————————————

A few hours later Mark felt a throbbing in his temple and winced when he noticed the first light of morning shine through his window.

All those soju shots were now a regret as Mark sat up wishing his sleep never broke. As his mind recollected his thoughts of last night he quickly remembered you were the last person he spoke to before he passed out. About to step out of bed his hazy eyes quickly cleared to the sight of you, sound asleep on his bedroom floor.

“Y/n ?” He whispered, carefully stepping over you and crouching down to meet your frame.

“Mmm” you answered, eyes still closed but shifting uncomfortably thanks to the rising sun and the wooden floor.

“Y/n sleep on my bed, I’ll close the blinds” Mark rubbed your head until your eyes slowly opened and you began making your way into the warmth of his bed.

Mark felt uneasy as he watched you tuck yourself into his bed unsure of what to do with himself or where to go.

“Mark...” you mumbled.

“Y-yeah ?”

“You should get more sleep, you have a free schedule come here” Mark watched you shift over in the bed creating a space for him to lay down next to you.

In any other circumstance he’d just do it but now it was different. After last night it was all different.

“Mark...”

“Coming...” he responded to you and slowly slipped under the covers, turning on his side to face you. He didn’t expect your eyes to be staring straight back at him.

“I’m so sorry” you said softly, lifting your hand and placed it on his cheek. Mark stayed still and quiet, still wary if you fully understood his outburst or not.

“I- don’t like Jaehyun like that, and he’s way more into you and I being together than me and him” you chuckled dryly,

“Mark I like you just as much, and I always have I’m just stupid, I was just...afraid.”

“Afraid of what ?” Mark raised his eyebrows cutely which made you smile from ear to ear and roll over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know, dating is scary and if anything happened we’ll never be friends again” you whined and you heard Mark giggle next to you,

“How can you think about what would happen if we break up before we’re even together ? That’s so stupid” He scoffed and you nudged him in his side.

“I’m serious, I’m sorry I was such a jerk and I want to continue whatever we have this time on your terms” you turned to him and Mark pressed his lips together and nodded,

“I want us to try it out, it doesn’t have to be serious, but I want you to stay over, I wanna hold your hand whenever I want” Mark pouted and enveloped his hand with yours, “and please no more Jung Jaehyun, dude can sing, cook, and God knows what else I can’t compete with.”

“You don’t have to compete because I only like you stupid, you’re perfect” you playfully pinched his cheek and Mark shifted closer to you.

“Officially dating ?” His large eyes looked up into yours,

“Officially dating” you giggled and Mark wasted no time in shifting his body until he was hovering over you. his thumb brushed over your bottom lip and he pressed his mouth against yours, sighing into the deep kiss. Your lips attacked each other excessively and passionately. Mark brought his body down onto yours as your hand tangled in his hair and the other grabbed onto his waist.

Mark pushed his hips into yours roughly, and you groaned at the friction of his Jean clothed member pushing against your core. Mark used your moan as a means to slip his tongue into your mouth as the two of you desperately tried to remove the constricting clothes between you.

“Fuck” Mark sat back on his heels and watched you reach between his legs to palm him through his jeans.

You quickly undid his button and pushed him back as he quickly shimmied out of his jeans and removed his sweater, leaving him in nothing but his black boxers.

Mark licked his lips as he watched you discard of your own clothes before bringing your face down to where his member was just begging to be touched.

Throwing his head back, Mark uttered a curse word as you pulled down his boxers and stroked his length slowly and skillfully. You watched him squirm beneath you as you teased his tip, bringing your tongue to it and flicking it while you pumped his member.

“Baby....” Mark said huskily, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes were hooded as he looked down at your mouth wrapped around his dick, just waiting for you to suck him off.

You abided quickly and messily took him in your mouth while still using your hand to rub his length. Mark’s curses got even louder until he finally made you stop and pinned your back to the bed, looking down at you with devilish eyes.

“I’m not the one who needs to be punished here” Mark raised his brow as you shrugged innocently,

“But you’re a nice guy, you wouldn’t punish me” you pouted and Mark stuck his tongue in his cheek before giving you a quick smack on your thigh, “yeah that’s not gonna work on me.”

Your heart raced excitedly as Mark rid you of your bra and panties, spreading your legs enough for his frame to sit in between your thighs.

A shudder went through your body when Mark’s index finger traced your inner thigh and abdomen, making sure to dance close enough to your core but not giving it any attention.

“Seriously ?” You groaned, throwing your head back in frustration.

“What?” Mark asked innocently still tracing circles and tried to hide the obvious enjoyment he had from teasing you.

“Do you want me to beg you to touch me ?” You whined, arching your back hoping to somehow get to his touch.

“Hmm” Mark hummed and pulled his hand away, “sounds like a good idea.”

“Mark please touch me, please I -“ you didn’t care how desperate you sounded or if the whole dorm could hear you right now but there was nothing more you wanted than have Mark touch you.

“Okay but that’s only because I’m a nice guy” Mark smirked and slipped two fingers into your dripping core with ease. You let out a loud moan and normally Mark would silence you but right now he couldn’t care less. The more you moaned the faster his fingers moved and when you mentioned you were about to cum he added a third.

“Holy shit” you breathed as you came undone and felt even more light headed when you witnessed Mark lick his fingers clean.

Once he allowed you to catch your breath Mark positioned himself at your entrance and slowly slipped inside, the already wetness made him groan with satisfaction.

Finding his rhythm Mark began thrusting inside of you, grabbing your breast with one hand and your hip with the other to help him keep his pace.

You felt him stretch you out and it was the most exhilarating feeling having him inside you again. Mark was confident in bed and that was one of the most attractive things about him. For someone with a sweet face and an innocent demeanor he was so dominate and tantalizing in bed.

“Mark I’m gonna-“

“Me too” he grunted before flipping you over and grabbed a fist full of your hair and slammed inside of you again. The new position built your orgasm even faster as your ass hit against his abdomen every time he thrusted into you. Mark pulled you up, turning your head to the side as he bit into your shoulder and you screamed out his name continuously.

“Cum for me” Mark growled in your ear and those words were enough for you release your second orgasm. Mark quickly pulled out of you and stuffed his length into your mouth, groaning as you swallowed every bit of him and even cleaned up any remaining mess with your tongue.

“I missed that” Mark collapsed on the bed trying to catch his breath while you did the same.

“Me too” you hummed and rested your head on his chest as the two of you drifted off to a sweet slumber.

———————————————————————

It was mid day and Mark and you snuck into the bathroom to quickly clean up after a quickie in the shower Ofcourse and arrived in the kitchen where the rest of Mark’s bandmates were.

The tenth floor boys and Johnny were all enjoying their lunch but their smug faces when the two of you walked out said it all.

“Well we’re dating now, so that’s out of the way” you grabbed a fry from the table and popped it into your mouth.

“Congrats” Jungwoo clapped, more interested in the food in front of him than the announcement he obviously saw coming.

“Hey maybe they didn’t hear anything after all” Mark whispered into your ear and placed a soft kiss on your cheek before sitting down to join the meal.

You shrugged and slipped into the seat next to Johnny, and watched as Yuta, Jaehyun, and Taeil shared a quick glance and smirk,

“I really didn’t take Mark for a begging kink kind of guy” Johnny said nonchalantly while the entire table erupted in laughter as you hid your reddened face and Mark choked on his glass of water.

#mark lee smut #mark lee scenarios #nct smut #nct127 smut #nct scenarios #mark lee angst #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #superm scenarios #nct dream smut #nct au #2jaeh masterlist

718 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 8)

a/n: oh my! we have finally reached the end of this story and I never thought it would turn out to be this long but im happy it did! thank you for reading and loving it, and now, enjoy the last part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4k

warning: just pure fluff

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“Girl, even if you don’t win, you’ll surely take the title of the hottest woman on the red carpet tonight.”

Florence’s words make you chuckle, but you try not to move your lips too much as the makeup artist finishes up the last touches on them, using a nude shade.

“Stop, my head is big enough already,” you tell her, giving her a look through the mirror. She is standing a few feet behind you, already wearing her beautiful, golden Versace gown that hugs her perfectly. Her hair is up in a neat bun so her back can be on full display and the diamonds in her ears can also shine brightly. She looks amazing while she is the opposite of what you’ll look like tonight.

Rhonda, the makeup artist has an amazing notion about your look when you showed her the gown you’d be wearing tonight and since the dress is not the sparkly kind, like Florence’s, she went a little heavier with the glitter on your eyes, using mostly whitish-silver colors, creating rosy cheeks and topping it with nude, glossy lips. Your hair is in loose curls with a bunch of extension, creating the illusion that you might as well be Rapunzel herself tonight. But you are the most excited about the gown that’s already waiting for you to be finally put on.

“What time is it?” you ask Florence as you don’t have your phone on you, but she has hers in her hands already.

“We still have half an hour before we have to leave. Dude, I can’t believe you are an Oscar nominee and might turn into a winner tonight!” she sighs, eyes shining bright with excitement. She hasn’t come off of this high for days, so over the Moon that you get to walk the red carpet tonight as a nominee.

“Don’t jinx it, Flo,” you warn her.

There’s a knock on the door of the hotel suit you’ve occupied for the glamming and Florence is quick to rush to it answering, but you both know who it is. As she throws the door open Harry comes to your sight, looking as handsome as ever, wearing his custom made Gucci suit with a pink dress shirt underneath that matches your gown perfectly.

“Florence, you look wonderful!” his british accent fills the room, making you smile. Rhonda sets your makeup with some spray and you’re finally done. Standing up you move your legs around a bit as they went a little numb from all the sitting.

“Thank you! Pink suits you well, Harry,” your friend compliments your man and you watch them smiling.

When Harry’s eyes set on you, the light up, his smile widening from ear to ear. He looks spotless, freshly shaved, his hair recently cut and combed into place for a change. Not that you don’t like it when it’s all tousled and messy, especially when it’s because of your fingers.

“Angel, wow!” he breathes out as he walks up to you, taking your hands in his. You know he wants to kiss you, but doesn’t want to risk messing your lips up, so he is left with admiring you with only his eyes.

“Just wait until you see her in the dress!” Florence chimes in making you chuckle. You kept your dress a secret, wanting to surprise him with the first look. You gave out only the most necessary details for Lambert so the two of you could match.

“You’d be great like this too,” he teases, taking a look at your fluffy robe.

“I’m not going to the Oscars in a robe,” you tell him with a narrow-eyed look.

“I know, I’m just saying that you’d still be stunning,” he mumbles with a boyish smirk.

“Y/N? Time to choose a necklace!” Your stylist, Rupert appears from the room where your gown is hanging. He has a few jewelry boxes in his hands and he sets them all to the coffee table, opening up you are met with four breathtakingly beautiful diamond necklaces, each of them different yet so magical looking, you can’t decide which one you like the most.

“Harry, which one do you like the most?” you ask, kneeling down next to the table, mesmerized by the jewelries in front of you. Harry leans down and inspects them one by one before poking on the last one in the row. It has three rows of diamonds, not too big, the stones in the last row are shaped like water droplets, it’s such an elegant looking piece, it surely caught your eyes as well and you think it would be perfect with the dress.

“This one,” he tells you and you nod, shutting the other boxes, satisfied with the choice.

“Alright, time to get you into the gown, girl,” Rupert winks, gesturing at you to follow him into the room.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell Harry, risking a quick peck on his lips before you disappear in your temporary dressing room.

You fell in love with the gown on the first fitting when Rupert pulled it out, still in the finishing phase. It still has pins in it, but it already took your breath away. It has a massive A-line skirt and a tight upper part that hugs your body perfectly, a row of buttons running down the middle of it. The sleeves are puffy, but then end in a tight run from a little above your wrists, the same set of buttons appearing like on your chest. It’s giving out some Victorian style vibes in a more sophisticated and simpler way, but it’s by far your favorite dress you’ve ever worn to any event.

It surely needs the extra pair of hands from Rupert to put it on, but once you are secured in it, you feel like a princess straight out of a fairytale and surely, your prince is standing on the other side of the double doors.

“Alright! Everyone get ready for the big reveal!” Rupert announces, sneaking out the room so he can open the door for you. He waits a few moments as you hear everyone shuffle around outside, probably lining up to see you walk out in your finished state. “Okay, three! Two! One! Welcome our Oscar nominee!” he cheers, a round of applause is heard before you even appear, but it’s quickly replaced with gasps when Rupert pulls the doors open and they get the first glimpse of you in your gown.

“Holy fuck!” Florence gasps, mouth hanging open as she keeps raking your form up and down. Your eyes find Harry’s gaze and you see him in a state you haven’t often found him in the past almost two years you’ve been dating. He is completely speechless, eyes glued to you in awe as if he just saw an angel in real life.

“Y/N, I—wow,” he breathes out, still at a loss of words.

“You like it?” you ask with a shy smile.

“I fucking love it, baby. You look… You really are an angel,” he tells you, making you chuckle at his words.

“Would you please help me put on the necklace?” you ask him and he nods eagerly, carefully taking the jewelry out of its box and walking behind you, he brings it around your neck, his fingers delicately working on the clasp. Once it’s all set, you step to the floor to ceiling mirror, taking in the final look.

“There won’t be a straight woman left on Earth once you step on the red carpet,” Florence bluntly comments, making everyone in the room laugh.

“Let’s take some photos, I need to immortalize this masterpiece,” Rupert gestures around, already grabbing his camera.

The next ten minutes you take hundreds of photos, alone, with Florence and then with Harry. He still seems a little stunned by your look, feeling shy when he circles his arm around your waist, but it’s cute that you can still have such an effect on him after being together for almost two years.

Florence snaps some with your phone as well, your favorite is when he held your waist and leant you back, making you arch backwards as your noses touched since he couldn’t kiss you. You already know it’ll end up as your lockscreen, replacing the selfie the two of you took on your latest trip to Hawaii.

When it’s time to leave you grab your little purse with your phone and other necessities and the three of you pile up in a minivan, since your dress needs all the space so it doesn’t get wrinkled before you step out to the red carpet.

As you sit in the car and watch the buildings pass by, your nerves start to rise in you. When the nominations came out a month ago it seemed so far, you couldn’t imagine yourself actually attending the Academy Awards, but now here you are, on your way to find out if you’ve been good enough to be the best.

Your role in Sinful Heaven has brought a lot to your life aside from the nomination. The three months of filming was one of the hardest times in your life you’ve ever worked through and at some points, you didn’t even think you’d get through it. Working so closely with Levi took a toll on you while you were trying to prove in such a heavy and serious role. It was a mess especially at the beginning when you and Harry were still in this weird phase, but that eventually turned right when he literally punched Levi in the face and ten minutes later asked you to be his girlfriend. It’s a badass way to start a relationship and you wouldn’t trade it for anything, especially because it put Levi into place or at least scared him enough to get off your back for the rest of the filming.

When Harry left following that visit, you couldn’t see each other until filming wrapped and you flew straight to him and travelled with him for the next two weeks, hopping from one city to the other, watching him perform every other night and spending all your time with him.

When the movie premiered eight months later, you didn’t appear with Harry by your side, Maya was your date for the evening, but by that time everyone knew you and Harry are an official couple. Neither of you felt like hiding it or caring about what others would think and you were able to focus on each other and rely on the strong foundation you’ve built for your relationship.

He was there with you when the nominations came out and probably screamed louder when your name appeared in the list. With tearing eyes and choked out sobs you jumped into his arms as he mumbled into your ear.

“I’m so proud of you, Angel. So, so proud!”

And now you are on your way to the show, only hours away from finding out if your dreams will come true tonight. Harry squeezes your hand and you turn to face him, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Nervous?” he asks with a small smile.

“Very,” you admit with an airy chuckle.

“Whatever happens tonight, I’m very proud of you. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze back.

Since it’s the first time you and Harry appear on the red carpet as a couple, once you set your feet out of the car, everyone goes nuts. He helps you out and even fixes your dress so it falls just perfectly around your frame before he offers his arm. You link your through it, taking a deep breath as the two of you start walking down the carpet, posing for the photographers.

You feel powerful and strong, like it’s the peak of your career, but you also feel that it wouldn’t be the same without Harry by your side even though he is making sure to let you shine tonight. At one point he even steps back for a moment so photographers can snap you alone and you think it’s such a caring move from him.

You feel a little dizzy from all the flashlights by the time you walk into the theater, Harry holding your hand tightly as he leads you to your seats.

You’ve been to plenty award shows and it’s not even your first Academy Awards appearance either, but for obvious reasons, it’s the most important. Sitting in your plush chair, you can barely stop yourself from continuously fidgeting as one category follows the other and it’s still not yours.

Then following a jaw-dropping performance from Dua Lipa, Chris Evans walks out with a golden statue and an envelope in his hands and your heart skips a beat, but not because of the man himself, but because you know he is the presenter of the Best Actress category.

Your hold on Harry’s hand on your lap tightens and you glue your eyes to the big screens behind Chris as he smiles around.

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to be here and to present the award for Best Actress. The theater tonight is filled with exceptional talents, but let’s see the nominees,” he speaks into the microphone and then he starts listing the names.

Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Margot Robbie and Rooney Mara are called and a camera fixates on each of them when Chris says their names, all smiling brightly and waving around before your name is called at the end. Taking a deep breath you plaster your most wonderful smile across your face, waving around like the other nominees did before the big screen splits, showing the five of you simultaneously.

“We’ve seen some spectacular performances from these ladies and now let’s see who proved herself to be the best this year.”

Chris flips the envelope open and pulls the little paper out that has the winner’s name written on it and for a moment you’re convinced you’ll pass out. You’ve never felt this anxious before and you’re gripping Harry’s hand so tightly you’re surprised he hasn’t pulled it back, but he is patiently putting up with your nerves, his eyes glued to the man on the stage as well.

“And the Academy Award for Best Actress goes to…” Chris starts with a charming smile, holding a short pause before he finally says the name. “Y/N Y/L/N for her role as Marie Davidson in Sinful Heaven!”

Your mouth hangs open, ears ringing as you process that your name was called. Everyone around you jumps up, including Harry, who is screaming just like when the nominations came out, while you are completely blank. It takes you a couple of moments to realize that you in fact just won your first Oscar and everyone is waiting for you to go and get your little statue.

“Baby! Baby you won!” Harry cheers as he helps you up from your seat and you throw yourself into his arms as reality sets in. “I fucking love you, Angel. Go and get your Oscar!” he laughs, pride all over his face as he urges you to walk up to the stage.

“Walk me up, please!” you stammer, not trusting yourself with walking in this fragile state. He offers his hand without a second thought, walking you to the stage where Chris is politely waiting for you to help you up on the stairs.

“Thank you,” you breathe out once you’re finally up on the stage, every set of eyes on you as Chris hands you the little statue.

“Congratulations,” he smiles as the two of you exchange two kisses on the cheeks before he steps aside and lets you give a speech.

You thought about writing a few words beforehand, but you figured if you end up being the winner you’d forget the whole thing, so there would be no use and that’s the case. Your mind is still blank as you look down at the award in your hands, the crowd still cheering on you, giving you a few extra moments to figure out what to say.

“I uhh—I don’t even know what to say, this feels like a dream,” you admit talking into the microphone, the clapping dying down so that everyone can hear your words. “I want to thank to everyone who worked on Sinful Heaven, because I wouldn’t be here without them. To my wonderful director and amazing costars, it’s been such a wonderful journey with you all. Thank you to my friends and family who were there with me from the very start, believing in me when I was losing faith in myself, thank you for never giving up on me. To my parents who I assume are now crying in front of the TV,” you add chuckling softly, imagining your mom and dad in tears as they listen to your words. “This is a wonderful sign to me that I am where I need to be and that I’m on the right path, so thank you for giving me even more motivation to keep me going on my way.”

Your eyes roam around all the guests until they fall on one proud man staring at you in his Gucci suit and pink dress shirt, his green eyes looking glossy as he listens to your words.

“And last but not least, thank you to one special person, because I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here tonight without him. I have one thing to tell you.” Forgetting about everyone in the theater you hold up the Oscar in your hand as you finish your speech: “Never have I ever loved someone like I love you.”

The crowd starts cheering again as you step away from the microphone and Chris is quick to jog up to you and help you down the stairs, Harry rushing back to take your hand once Chris lets go of it.

You catch him wipe a tear off his cheek as the two of you walk back to your seats hand in hand. Once you are settled, you take a deep breath and turn to Harry who is already looking at you, the same proud smile you saw from the stage still on his handsome face.

“I have never,” he tells you as his answer to the last line of your speech and you chuckle as your free hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him close. The lipstick on your lips long forgotten as you finally kiss him for the first time tonight.

“I have never either,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again and again.

***

Smiling around you wait for the audience to quiet down as you make yourself comfortable in the familiar armchair. It’s such a nostalgic feeling to sit here again.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to have you here again,” Ellen greets you once the clapping has stopped.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. A lot has happened since the last time you were here, you won an Oscar just a few weeks ago, congratulations!”

The cheering starts again as a picture of you appears on the screen behind you, wearing your iconic pink gown, holding your Oscar in your hands.

“Thank you,” you shyly smile, still not entirely in peace with the fact that you are now an Oscar winning actress.

“Such a major thing, congrats.”

“Thank you, it is a huge thing, yes.”

“Do you already have a spot for the award? Does it have a designated place?”

“Well, for now it is in my study along with some more mementos, but I’m planning to have a little stand made in the living room,” you share your plans.

“Surely, I would want to show it off if I had an Oscar,” Ellen chuckles. “You have such a busy time behind you, have you been up to something new lately?”

“We finished filming the third season of The Umbrella Academy, so now I’m having a little break before I jump into anything new.”

“Sounds nice, you deserve all the relaxing. Anything planned while you’re on a break? A new book to read, or maybe a concert to go to?” she asks and you already know where this is heading.

“You know you can just ask if I’m planning to attend a Harry Styles concert,” you bluntly tell her, making the audience and Ellen laugh.

“Well, I was just asking around about your plans, but I’m happy you plan to visit Harry’s concert! It’s also good to know that the situation has changed since the last time you were here, you definitely have been to one of his concerts since then.”

“I have been, yes,” you admit smirking.

“And I assume the two of you are now very close, am I right?” she asks and suddenly a paparazzi photo of the two of you appears where you’re walking down the street hand in hand just a couple of weeks ago.

“You could say that,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Amazing, because he is going to join us now. Everyone, please welcome Harry Styles!” Ellen announces and turning around you spot Harry walking out from backstage, the audience screaming for him. He shyly waves around walking up to the center, greeting Ellen with a kiss on the cheek before he turns to you, pecking your lips shortly as he sits down next to you.

“Harry, so good to see you again,” Ellen smiles at him.

“Good t’ see you as well,” he nods.

“So, the last time you two were sitting here, you—it was the first time you ever met, right?”

“Right,” you nod with Harry.

“And now you are…” she gestures at the two of you, not finishing the sentence, but everyone knows what she meant by that.

“And now we are… not strangers anymore,” Harry says chuckling, making everyone in the studio laugh.

“Certainly,” Ellen nods. “Alright, I thought that we could play another game, just to bring back some nice memories,” she explains, reaching behind her armchair, grabbing the familiar board from her, flipping it in your hands with a nostalgic smile.

“Can we keep it PG rated though?” Harry asks, examining his board before looking up at Ellen.

“No,” she simply answers, reaching for her cards as the audience starts laughing. “Okay, you know how to play it, no need for explanation. Here is the first one: Never have I ever used my fame to get in somewhere.”

Ellen is quick to show the I HAVE side of her board and you slowly do the same while Harry thinks to himself.

“Oh come on, you surely have,” you elbow him playfully as he smirks in your way, holding up the same side as you and Ellen.

“We all have, it’s not a shame,” Ellen shrugs. “Next one. Never have I ever forgotten the name of someone right after they introduced themselves.”

Ellen holds up the I HAVE side and you do the same again while this time Harry flips it over to I HAVE NEVER confidently.

“Really?” Ellen asks him, surprised at his answer.

“I’m good with names,” he simply shrugs.

“That’s a good trait. Alright, let’s move on. Never have I ever punched someone in the face.”

It’s a sneaky and very shady statement. Just a few days after the incident with Levi, word got out that he was punched, a few blurry pictures floating around the internet of his bruise, then fans figured out it had to happen around the time Harry visited set and people were quick to put the picture together and assume that Harry was the one who hit Levi, but it was never confirmed.

Glancing at your boyfriend you are fighting your smile back, holding up the I HAVE NEVER side as he is looking back at you slyly, continuously flipping his board before it finally lands on I HAVE, the audience immediately rumbling at the partial confirmation and seemingly Ellen is also amazed by Harry’s honesty.

“Alright, interesting. Love that for you, Harry,” he comments making everyone laugh as you reach over and give Harry’s hand a squeeze. “Last one,” Ellen announces, reading the last statement from her cards. “Never have I ever fallen in love with someone I played never have I ever with.”

Ellen quickly shows her I HAVE NEVER side as you suck your lips into your mouth, glancing at Harry again. You share a look before you both slowly raise your boards, both reading the same sign on them: I HAVE.

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x actress!reader #never have i ever series #harry styles never have i ever #harry styles never have i ever series

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

I got a whole 4 hours of sleep today and have to pull a 12 hour shift. So I apologize if it doesn’t make sense, I am new to the Bucky fandom!

I like the idea of his grumpy, refusing to let anyone in, be slowly ground down by reader, but teeters back and forth until reader is in some sort of trouble. Then the flood gates of vulnerability open because he was worried about them. I mean he hasn’t been with anyone since the 40s right? Would he still know how to navigate caring about someone in that way? I don’t know. It was something that has been buzzing around in my head for a week.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: langauge, vague description of sex (minors dni!)

BUCKY MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d started out as neighbors - nothing more and nothing less.

Neighbors turned into causal acquaintances, fueled by your constant baking and copious amounts of goodies. Casual acquaintances turned into friends that would spend an occasional evening watching television together. Friends quickly turned into best friends that became utterly inseparable....with the occasional hook-up. You were hesitant to call it friends with benefits because that just sounded so crass. It was more like best friends with the occasional stress relief.

Stress relief. Sure that worked.

None that you wouldn’t have minded more of course. But you weren’t about to make a move on James Buchanan Barnes and ask him out on a date. No, you knew your place and his. He was physically akin to a god, mixed in with a bit of fuck boy, and yet...you loved him. You’d fallen hard and fast for the man that had gone from a mere stranger to a welcome and comfortable part of your life. But you’d never tell him that.

No, nope, hell no. Bucky surely didn’t reciprocate your feelings and you’d never been the type to make a move first.

Besides that...Bucky didn’t exactly strike you as a relationship type of guy. You’d seen him here and there with a girl or two, but it wasn’t anything serious. And since the two of you had started hooking up, you’d never noticed anyone else. And you hadn’t been with anyone else either. It was akin to a non-exclusive exclusive not-really-a-relationship relationship. Neither of you pushed it any further - you both accepted dates here and there but they never amounted to anything. Wonder why?

Unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t that Bucky didn’t want a relationship - he did. He did very much with you. But he just...there was something about being a one hundred and six year-old man that just left him confused and worried. He hadn’t exactly had the opportunity to date much and now that he had the time it reminded him of just how different things were. Dating was this weird confused jumble, but you were a clear and obvious bright spot. He had his doubts that you’d ever want anything more from him. He knew what he was - a mostly stable old man with a body that people seemed to enjoy. He made the most of that - it didn’t seem like people were interested in getting to know him much these days.

But you did - you always did. And, gods, he’d fallen hard for you - the kind of love that makes your stomach churn and heart feel like bursting and steals your breath away no matter how long it’s been. But what the fuck would you want with him? He’s a fossil with a boatload of mental trauma and even more sass and attitude.

You deserved the world and he only had himself to give. Of course, he was enough - way more than enough - but he didn't believe that.

There had been numerous occasions when you'd tried to be honest, to confess your true feelings, but you'd always managed to fall short. Every time you got close, something came up. And after the last girl you'd seen him with, you vowed to take your secret to the grave.

You had come close though - so close - especially the last time you'd hooked up.

»»——��—-　♡　————-««

You were under Bucky, both of you naked and panting as you quickly approached your highs. He was buried deep inside you, head dropped to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, nipping and biting at the delicate skin.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in order to hold him close. One of your hands was laced together with his while the other was wrapped around his neck. There was something so perfectly harmonious about how you always were together.

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, James, James, James as he kept going. It was the only time you called him anything but Bucky. As your vision had grown hazy and you felt that familiar warm start to blood your veins, you’d let your true feelings slip. It was so easy, so effortless and in the moment it just...happened.

I love you.

The declaration hung in the air as you felt your walls clamp around him and he reached his own eyes. That’s when you’d realized what you’d done. This time it was an entirely different sensation radiating throughout your bones - terror. Utter terror.

But if Bucky had heard your three little words he made no mention of them. Relief washed over you as you came to the conclusion that he was just as wrapped up in his own blissful haze that he simply hadn’t heard you. You were safe this time - but you’d have to be extra cautious from here on out.

Oh, but Bucky had heard you. Loudly and clearly. He chose to ignore your words because he was positive that he hadn’t heard you incorrectly. Surely you hadn’t meant to say that - and more importantly, it was a mistake. As much as he loved hearing those words from your pretty lips, he knew it was either an accident or a figment of his imagination.

You both pretended that nothing had happened.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky rolled his eyes lightly as he watched his phone light up with a call from Sam. He was half tempted to ignore it but decided to answer anyway; he was bored and the call might lead to something to do. You’d normally be hanging out with him on a Friday night, but his calls and texts had gone unanswered.

“Hey man,” Bucky picked up the call and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer, “what’s up?”

“You need to get to the hospital,” Sam was speaking so quickly that it all came out in a single slew of words as Bucky’s brows knitted together.

“I know I don’t have a lot going on this Friday night, but I think I’m okay,” he snorted as he opened the bottle and took a swig.

“No, no, no,” Sam interrupted by almost whispering your name, “there’s been an accident. She was hurt and taken to the ER. I was on the phone with her when it happened - just come. Now.”

Bucky didn’t even wait for Sam to finish before he dropped the beer and ran out the door. His whole body felt like it was growing numb and the only thing on his mind was you. You couldn't be hurt...you just couldn’t. Bucky couldn’t imagine any sort of reality in which you weren’t there.

»»————-　♡　————-««

As soon as he ran into the hospital, seeking out the emergency room, he was asking about you. He looked probably just as crazy as he felt as he was nervously directed to your room. He almost jogged down the hall and into your small space. Sam stood at the end of your bed, looking down at you with a concerned expression.

“What the hell happened?” Bucky could barely bring himself to look at you as you laid on the small bed, looking so helpless and fragile. You were sleeping, sedated from lots of heavy drugs, but hooked up to several beeping machines. Your arm was in a cast already, bruises and contusions and cuts littered every bit of your skin that he could see. His heart plummeted into his stomach.

“She was crossing the street and got hit by a car that didn’t slow down enough in time,” Sam’s heavy was heavy as he rubbed at his tired, “I heard it all happen, Buck. It was terrible - but she’s strong. She’s going to be okay. No internal damage, luckily, but she’s going to be in a lot of pain for a while. The arm’s broken.”

“Jesus,” Bucky sighed as Sam nodded.

“I called her parents and they’ll be here soon. She’s just sleeping but hopefully will wake up soon.”

“Okay,” Bucky took a hesitant step closer.

“She asked for you,” Sam hadn’t been sure if he should have confessed that little part or not, “when they were bringing her in. Kept repeating your name. You should just tell her, you know. She’s obvious she feels the same. Don’t be idiots.”

“Thanks,” Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically as the two men shared a quick laugh before Sam hugged him, “I’ll stay here if you want to go. You’ve done a lot already. Thank you for calling me.”

“I got you man,” Sam gave him a half smile, “call me if you need anything at all...or if anything happens.”

“Goodbye.”

As soon as his friend left, Bucky came over to you, his fingers grazing the side of the small, horrid looking bed. He was going to help you however you needed it for however long it would take till you were better and out of pain. If he had the choice, he wouldn’t ever leave your side again.

This whole time he’d been so dumb, so silly. He should have just told you how he left - a long time ago and gotten over himself. A heavy sigh escaped him as you pulled up the uncomfortable plastic chair and took a seat next to you.

He gently, ever so delicately reached for the hand that was in the cast and held it in his. It almost made him laugh with how much smaller your hand was than his. They fit perfectly together.

He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept, wondering when you’d wake up. He hoped soon - so he could finally tell you all of those unspoken words.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“James?” a croaky, dry voice met his ears as his tired eyes snapped open. He blinked a few times to adjust his vision before focusing on you. You were looking back at him with a tired, sleepy little smile on your features. You looked beautiful, so damn beautiful, despite the blues and purples painting your skin, “what are you doing here?”

He must have fallen asleep at some point during the night. He was still holding your hand. He beamed back at you, “hi pretty girl. Sam called me and told me what happened. I came right over.”

“I’m anything but pretty right now,” you laughed lightly but quickly grimaced at the pain, “how long have you been here?”

“Since yesterday evening,” he confessed quickly, “I didn’t want to leave - wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh Bucky,” there was that saccharine little smile on your face. The same one he loved so much, “you didn’t have to. I...I really fucked up movie night, huh?”

“I’m in love with you.”

He finally got those damn words out before he could change his mind or think too much about it. Your face immediately lit up with a grin as you searched his cerulean eyes.

“Do you mean it?” you asked softly as he nodded, feeling a blush creep into his cheeks.

“Of course.”

“I love you too, Bucky,” you replied, giving his hand a tight squeeze, “I’m in love with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he whispered as he leaned closer to you, “because I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl. Not now, not ever.”

“I don’t want you to, Bucky,” you promised, “I want you with me always.”

“That sounds perfect to me.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)(strike-through means I couldn’t tag you)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @april-showers-and-flowers @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish @patzammit @niki-xie @xxlovingfandomsxx @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @actual-spawn-of-satan @punkerthanpascal @lazybeeches @someday-when-you-leave-me @justgivemethekeys @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @neptunesglow @artsymaddie @haildoodles @amneris21 @star017 @irepostthingsiwanttoseelater @its–fandom–darling @ayamenimthiriel @alyispunk @djarinbarnes @edencherries @ashamed23 @sunsetskywalkerr @nikkixostan @spookispunk @cable-kenobi @hrtsgetbrkn @ironicfoxes @iilwjbb @cc13723things @thenormreedus @gooddaykate

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you

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allandoflimbo · 3 years

Text

Ashens (Part 23)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6,000

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you

+ + +

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity.

Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character,

for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way,

not for their own benefit, but for others.”

+ + +

It starts in his fingers, a feeling of hot tingles and sporadic static. He plays with the condensation of the glass, gathering the wetness on the tips of his digits until they are completely numb from the cold. The hot tingles and static dissipate momentarily until they move up his arms and into the cavity where his heart beats.

It beats for the way you waltzed into the room, smelling like sweet strawberries and your shampoo.

It beats for the way it continues to ache and hope to feel your touch again.

If he’s quiet enough, he could hear it, too. It thumps away in his head, making his temples pulse and his palms sweat. He rubs the palm of his hand against the glass, too.

He looks up, dark eyes meeting your figure in your shared bedroom. Memories of the last few months fill his brain with a strong ripple of serotonin, gaze drifting towards the messy, fresh out the dryer, white sheets.

He’s feeling too much. It must be why he feels like he’s having a heart attack and why his mouth is insanely dry.

His eyes flicker back up to you again, and for a fraction of a second, he considers saying something.

Bucky doesn’t talk about his feelings much.

He always held it down.

He didn’t talk about how he felt when he watched his sister being taken from him, or when either of his parents died and he in result became an orphan.

Not much has changed since then, he thinks as he keeps looking at you.

You were moving around, unaware of his inner turmoil.

Bucky is fully convinced that no one on this earth detests him more than he detests himself. Not only does he hate himself for the things he’s done, but he can’t stand how he’s unable to talk about his feelings when he knows he needs to.

He can’t stand how weak he is and how he doesn’t have the guts to face it.

He’s watching you and he wants to speak up, but he can’t.

He detests himself for always running away from facing his demons.

This had a lot more to do than you going on a date. This was about everything. He knows there’s so much he needs to tell you.

He just wishes it were a lot simpler.

He doesn’t dare compare his issues to yours.

He knows each person has their own demons and their own complications to conquer, so he doesn’t dare compare. But, sometimes, he can’t help but think he is the world’s most horrible person, through no fault of his own.

Why couldn’t he have been stronger? Why couldn’t he have stopped himself from getting brainwashed? Why couldn’t he stop himself from doing all the things that he did?

Nobody knows what it’s like to live with the memories of being forced to train young girls who were taken from their families to fight for the KGB, one of them who later turns out being your friend. Not to mention then also shooting the same girl through the stomach on a bridge in Odessa. Nobody knows what it’s like to be forced to put a bullet between countless of innocent people’s eyes, some being young kids, cutting their innocent lives short.

Nobody understood what it was like to then be forced to kill someone’s parents, the same person who’s teams then welcomes you decades later into their home as family.

He experienced all of it without one goodbye to his blood family.

It doesn’t make sense to him how no one else could see what was going through his mind. Maybe he was messed up to the point where he could no longer be okay ever again.

Maybe.

But you, you had woken something inside of him that he thought had been long gone. You gave him a longing for communication, to talk about how he was feeling. For the first time in over half a century, because of you, he sees a potential light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t treat him like an ex assassin, a veteran, an avenger, or just a friend. You treated him like an imperfect man, taking him into your arms in spite of that.

Unbeknownst to you, you had taken his broken heart in your hands and held it tenderly, like a mother holding a newborn child. You taught it how to be happier, you taught it self forgiveness and preservation. You showed him how to be human, how to feel human desires that for so long he had held down.

He continues to watch you, swelling hard.

You showed me that it was okay. He thinks to himself.

You were his friend for much longer than you ever knew, and you had no idea.

He needed you more than you realized.

But you were right. It was time to let you be truly happy. After all, how could someone like him make you happy? You made it clear to him, time after time, that you’re both toxic together. He knows most of it was his fault, but he had changed. Unfortunately so had you and your feelings were just platonic now. It was a mess. Both of you, together, was a mess.

The amount of orgasms you shared don’t even make up for the hurt you’ve put each other through.

That’s what he needs to tell himself as he watches you from the living room, pulling the wool scarf tight around your neck to hide your tattoo, and tightening the lightweight white coat over your shoulders.

You were wearing a mid length dark red dress and short black heels. You looked great. The small smile your wore complemented you well, too. You looked happy.

Bucky knows he has no right to feel what he does as he watches you go back into the bathroom to touch up your hair.

It was a quarter past seven and the sun was setting. If this was two weeks ago, you two would probably be having sex right about now.

It had become routine after a certain point. He would probably have you bent over the sink, leaving finger indents on your hips.

Not anymore. That was over.

Ironically, it wasn’t even want he wanted to do with you as he watched you walk back in. He just wanted to grab you, run his hand through your hair and kiss your forehead.

The thought of wanting to do such a pure act catches him off guard and he feels a tightness in his chest grow hot. There was the static again in his fingers.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. We’re just going to have dinner at his place.” You say, slowly stepping into the lit living room.

Bucky’s on the sofa and you watch as his eyes leave yours to obviously linger down your body.

He clears his throat, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table.

“Be safe.” He says softly.

You watch as he takes a sip of the water, his eyes meeting yours again over the glass. There’s a pull inside of you that wants you to ask him if he was okay.

“You’ll be okay here?”

He gives a curt nod, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” His tone is hard and straight to the point, but something was still clearly off with his behavior.

He’s been acting weird since a few days ago when you told him about Pietro.

You start playing with the sleeve of your coat, clearly stalling.

He had to open up to you.

“You have food?” You ask. The edge of Bucky’s lip perks up. You’re thankful for the almost smile.

“Yes.”

You watch him for a few more seconds. The mundane exchange is almost comical.

“I gave you his address, right? Just in case?”

Pretty blue eyes narrow at you curiously.

“Yes, I have it right there.” Bucky says, pointing over to the dining table below the blue A.I glow.

“Okay.” you say, nodding slowly, “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything as you leave. He leans his elbows on each of his knees, bringing both his clasped hands together up to his chin.

He wants the static to go away. He wants to tell you everything.

He takes in a deep breath and runs a metal hand through his hair.

No, I wasn’t going to be okay without you here.

He picks up the control off the table and starts season nine of Friends.

It was going to be a long night.

+ + +

You were nervous. This was your first date.

Ever.

You also didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Sure, you liked Pietro. He was sweet, a good guy, and he was attractive. You wanted to give it a try. You were done being dragged down by one man that didn’t even love you the way you did.

It was time to move on.

Three soft knocks is how long it takes for the dark blue door of apartment 8C to swing open.

You’re immediately welcomed by the scent of something delicious and Pietro’s warm and bright smile.

“Hey, you.” He says with a delighted perk in his voice. He swings the door open wider for you to walk through, “Come in.”

Timidly, you walk into his inviting home.

The walls were beige and he had dark brown wooden floors. They were glossy instead of matte. To the left was a small kitchen with black cabinetry, and in front of you a small living room with a television and a black cotton couch.

You didn’t miss the hallway towards the far left the most likely led to a bedroom and bathroom.

Bedroom.

You feel your throat close up.

You were nervous.

“May I take your coat?” He asks sweetly, stretching out a hand to you. Your eyes go from his hand to his own eyes and his smile is contagious, “I’m just going to hang it in the closet. I won’t let it run away. Promise.”

You chuckle.

You give him a short nod, shrugging off your coat and handing it to him.

“Thank you.” You say.

There’s a small pause of silence.

“Wow, you look amazing.” He says quietly, taking in your dress. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you and you knew he was being sincere. You smile. “Do you want me to take your scarf, too?”

You instinctually reach for your scarf before pausing, your hands lingering on the fabric a bit longer than casual, “I’ll keep it,” your eyes meet and he squints at you, “It’s supposed to go with the dress.” You say quickly on your feet.

He tilts his head at you and chuckles.

“Okay. Well,” he looks down at his hand still holding your coat, “I’m just going to go hang this up. Feel free to to look around for a few seconds.”

You nod again, watching as he walks to a small closet towards the right, passed the tv.

You look over into the kitchen, and you see a neatly set table with two glass of wine.

There’s a pot on the stove with the lid on it, but the stove isn’t on.

You feel a warm and inviting hand on your upper back.

“I made, or should I say, I attempted,” he adds a chuckle that makes you smile, “to make some chicken parm.”

You giggle.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You both walk over to the table which isn’t that far to the side and he pulls out one of the chairs for you. You thank him politely, taking a seat.

There’s the sharing of shy glances and awkward feet hitting each other under the table. You mutter out sorry’s.

Pietro clears his throat when he remembers he forgot the plates. You smile again as he apologizes and gets up.

“I’m the worst.” He says quickly.

“You’re not, relax. I forgot, too.” You play with the glass on the table, vividly remembering Bucky doing the same not too long ago.

You were picking up each others habits, hard.

“So, how’s it going with the whole situation at home? With your friend?”

You’re caught off guard by the indirect mention of Bucky and you try to casually grab the white napkin off the table, laying it over your lap.

“It’s going better.” You say, hoping it’ll make Pietro cut the topic short.You smooth the fabric over your legs, picking at it.

He looks over his shoulder to you and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Really? That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. I know it was rough for you. I hated seeing you like that.” That makes two of us, you want to say. There’s another pause. “You’re quiet today.” He notes, placing your plate in front of you. You’re hit with an intense wave of nausea as the delicious smell peaks up into your nose. You look away from the plate swallowing hard, “You okay?”

You clear your throat and swallow and swallow.

“Yeah I’m fine,” the bile lays in your belly as the smell continues to drive into your head, making you dizzy and sweat, “Do you have some water?” You croak out, trying to push your chair a little away from the table. It scrapes angrily against the floor, and if it wasn’t for how sick you were feeling, you would be apologizing.

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He says quickly, moving around the kitchen and fixing you a glass.

He hands it to you and you take some heavy gulps. It’s cold and slices through your throat. It lays into your stomach uncomfortably but you prefer it over a dry and heavy tongue.

You place it back down on the table, taking a deep breath. You feel the sweating start to dissipate and your stomach slowly settles.

You bring your palm to your head and quickly blink away.

You hated throwing up.

“Sorry, about that.”

He chuckles and gives you a smile as he takes his own seat across from you, “That’s okay. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

You weren’t too sure, but you don’t say that. “Yeah, I don’t know what that was,” you look back down at the plate that begins to look somewhat appetizing again, “Believe me, it wasn’t the food. This smells delicious and looks delicious.” He opens the glass the red wine and offers some to you. You quickly shake your head, giving him a wave of rejection with your hand. Just the thought of wine made your stomach turn again, “I’ll stick to the water for now.” He nods and pours himself a glass, “Sorry if I’m quiet. I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous why?”

You shrug, digging a fork into your chicken and swirling it around.

“I don’t know. I’m just like that.”

He says your name and you stop poking your fork to look up at him, “It’s me. We’ve been friends for a few months now. I’m not some stranger.”

You smile. He was right.

“I know, trust me. It’s just…” you think for a moment and then start laughing, “God, we’re literally on a date, during the apocalypse, like this is just weird, ya know?”

Pietro frowns.

“Apocalypse? We’re safe in here, in these walls. Everyone is safe in here.”

Your smile drops.

You stare at him and begin to wonder if he’s actually being serious. Was the majority of the people in here really convinced that this was it? That everything was perfect? Was Hydra really that capable? Part of you is proud of your parent’s work because you truly were safe because of what they built, but the world was still out there, living. There was still more. This wasn’t supposed to be a permanent solution.

There were people out there still dying, trying to survive. And these people had no idea, including Pietro.

You realize you’re quickly going into dark territory and you don’t want Pietro digging into what you were trying to say, accidentally blowing your cover.

“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that.” You say quickly. You bring the chicken to your mouth, taking a small and careful bite, “This is so good.” You say after chewing and swallowing.

“I’m glad you liked it. I made some lava cakes for desert, too.”

You laugh.

“Are you a cook?”

“Nah. Just watch a lot of Tiny Kitchen.”

You perk a brow.

“Tiny Kitchen?”

“You’ve never heard of Tiny Kitchen?”

You laugh, placing your fork down on the plate.

“No, what the hell is it? A small kitchen?”

“Literally what it is. I’ll show it to you afterwards.”

“Okay.” You grin.

You look down at your plate again, wanting to go in for another bite, but for some reason you just can’t.

+ + +

He doesn’t get past episode three. He can’t.

Not when all thoughts of you clouded his mind. He knows Pietro is good people, so he’s entirely not concerned about that.

He knows he’s jealous. He knows that.

The jealousy mixed in with the anticipation of how the rest of the mission will play out worries him.

He wanted you home and near him, but since that wasn’t going to happen, he was home by himself, glooming.

He knows he needed a distraction right away so he picks up some of his things from the dining table, slides on a light jacket, and makes his way towards the tower.

He knows the blueprint of the tower already and he’s able to navigate himself into stairwell of the apartment on the top floor.

After weeks of dissecting, you both found out that Ashens’ father, Ashen, and his mother don’t live here with the boy. For safety precautions, which are obvious why, he’s being housed in under high security and under the supervision of some au pair who is as clueless of his importance as the day is young.

Bucky knows that what he’s about to do borders on breaking boundaries, and downright creepy.

But this was a situation he would qualify as desperate times comes to desperate measures.

Bucky’s able to bypass security, taking a security outfit off a ‘poor’ victim (he scoffs) as he does soon.

He’s just outside the boy’s bedroom when he hears the nanny tell Ashens goodnight.

When she’s leaving she tells Bucky in a heavy Bulgarian accent, clearly thinking he’s just a regular guard, that Ashens is about to go to sleep. Bucky keeps his head down and nods.

The clueless ar pair goes the opposite way, presumably to her own bedroom.

Bucky waits a few moments before knocking on the boy’s door.

He hears the little boy give out permission to come in. Bucky opens the door.

The bedroom is plain and depressing. There’s a bed with plain white sheets, a small nightstand, and a large window. There are no toys and nothing that would show any proof that a child resided here.

The room is not one he would expect for a boy Ashens’ age.

The little boy sits up in bed, his eyes squinting at the figure in his doorway.

“Hello.” The boy squeaks out.

Bucky practically laughs at how easy it was to get here. For a boy they are trying so hard to keep protected from just anyone, it was quite easy ending up just a few feet away from him.

Bucky’s had his fair share of experiences with kids, having a little sister himself. He knows he has to do this differently.

“Hi.” Bucky says lightly, almost too cheerfully.

The boy continues to stare at him as Bucky closes the door behind him, but not letting it close shut just yet.

“Who are you?”

Bucky slowly takes off his halo looking helmet and the boy squints at Bucky’s revealed face.

Bucky tucks the helmet under his arm and smiles.

“Can you keep a secret?”

The boy looks at him for a few more seconds before nodding slowly.

It’s not until Bucky is closer to the boy that his eyebrows shoot up,

“Wait. I know who you are.” Bucky can’t tell if the boy is excited or surprised, but the reaction makes Bucky’s chest swell.

This might go down easier than he expected.

“I -I was so little when I had the toy but,” the boy starts to talk excitedly and Bucky has to hide a growing smile, “Because I can’t have toys anymore. Not since we moved here. I was little but I remember,” the boy and Bucky both narrow their eyes at each other as if it’s a game to who would say it first, “it’s captain America. You ever heard of captain America?”

Bucky bites his lip.

“No, never.” He says sarcastically. “Oh, he’s the best. You look like his friend, but I don’t remember his name. He used to be the winter soldier and then he became good.”

Bucky’s heart swells again. The boy’s joy was so pure.

“Oh, yea?”

“Yeah. Dad didn’t like them vey much, though,” his face drops as he looks away from Bucky, “I didn’t like how happy he was when they all died. But no one knows that just us I think,” when Ashens looks up again, Bucky’s face is more solemn this time, “Are you sure you’re not the winter soldier?” The boy whispers the question.

Bucky considers his next words carefully. He places the helmet at the feet of the boy’s bed.

“If I told you I was?”

“I would be surprised because I though you were dead, and also I would be confused. Because why you here?”

Bucky nods. He looks away and then back at Ashens.

“Would you tell your dad?” He asks quietly. This was important.

The boy looks at him for a bit before answering.

“No. He would kill you. Daddy’s not on the good side.”

“And you believe I’m on the good side, right?”

“Yes. You’re an Avenger.”

Bucky bites his lip and looks around the room. This boy was good. It angered him that his own father wanted him killed. Now, more than ever, he wanted to rescue this boy.

“Can you trust me?” Bucky asks, suddenly serious.

The boy nods.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks timidly. “What do you mean?” “Ae you here to save me, sir?”

The question broke Bucky’s heart, but he nods.

“I trust you.” The boy’s eyes dart down Bucky’s left side, “Can I feel you arm?” The edge of Bucky’s lips perk up as he takes a seat, “and what does it feel like to hold the shield? Did you really know Iron Man? Black Panther always said —”

+ + +

By the time Bucky is back you’re already home in your pajamas tucked into bed.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” You ask him as he takes off his coat, draping it over one of the chairs in the dining area.

He kicks off his shoes and reaches back, pulling off his shirt. He walks over to the closet for a new one.

“I met Ashens.”

You raise your brows at this. You knew it was part of the plan to happen, but you didn’t expect it to be today.

“What?”

Bucky also pulls out a new and clean pair of boxers, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah. We spoke for a bit.” “And he didn’t recognize you?” “No, he did,” Bucky says simply, eyes going over to you. You looked so pretty, comforter pulled up under your clothed breasts, a book in your hands, and a messy bun in your hair. He wanted you. He looks away, remembering where you had just been, “He knows I’m here. He won’t tell his dad." “How can you be so sure?” “I’m an Avenger, aren’t I? That’s what everyone tells me, has been telling me.” He says it bitterly. Bucky sighs, closing the closet door and then walking over to the bed near you, “Because I made him a promise that I was here to save him. I think he knows his dad is bad news. He’s a smart kid. He knows his dad hits his mom, too.” Bucky’s voice is soft.

“So you trust he’ll keep this between us?”

“I do.”

You nod. You watch Bucky’s eyes as his stare stays on you, unnerving.

“And you?” You voice shakes as you ask, “How are you? Ya know, after?”

Bucky nods his head.

“I’m alright, ya know? I — ,” something happens to him that you had never seen before. A wave of happiness washes over Bucky’s face like a fresh cup of lemonade. His eyes shine and a bright smile fills his face. Even his voice sounds perkier, “It was just so nice talking to him. He’s such a sweet kid. I know we’re doing the right thing,” his eyes meet yours again and his voice lowers to a deep tone, “We’re both going to walk away from this mission with more than we thought.” It’s the first time he’s said that you are both going to walk away from the mission together, and not just you. He knows that. Bucky clears his throat, “You definitely won’t run into his father. He’s not living with him to avoid attention and possible abductions. Ashens is a literal rapunzel right now.”

“Good. That’s good.” Obviously it wasn’t. But it was good for the both of you. You had less chances of running into Ashen.

Bucky takes in a deep breath when he realizes his eyes are lingering on your collarbones for far too long.

“How was your date?” He actually doesn’t want to even know, the thought of you and Pietro makes him sick, but he knows he needs to show courtesy. They can’t ignore it forever. “It was fine. I wasn’t feeling too well, though—“

Bucky’s eyes narrow.

“—Oh no, I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t eat. But,” you took a deep breath and eyed the hallway, "Brought some in a small Tupperware if you want it. It’s in the kitchen.”

Bucky ignores the flutter in his heat at the mention that you thought of him. Thought of him enough to bring the leftovers for him.

He smiles.

“What is it?” “Chicken Parm.” You watch as Bucky continues to watch you, eyes still sparkling. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re happy, right?” Your eyes flicker away for a moment.

“Y-yeah.”

He knows he’s not fine so he lies.

“Then I’m fine. You looked great by the way.” He adds quickly.

You tilt your head at him and he tilts his back.

Damnit, he needed you.

“Yeah?” You ask hoarsely.

He wanted you.

“You’re glowing.” He says.

+ + +

Jazz and burlesque shows were the epitome of everything she had lived for up until she was sixteen years old. The smell of handmade lace garters and expensive perfume still lingered in the back of her mind, bringing her a feeling of contentment and a strange longing for the past.

Nostalgia would overwhelm her as she looked on at what was the exact contrast to her innocence – her mother’s hugs. She missed those nights where she’d play some 12’s of her beat up vinyl on her record, the scratches adding to Peggy Lee’s voice a twinge of imperfection that made it the perfect tone.

With nothing on but her undergarments, and a pair of leg garters accompanied with knee high black stockings, she’d open her closet to a huge collection of gorgeous cocktail dresses. A couple handful landed just above her knees, not many past her mid shin - Scandalous and mildly scandalous. Her parents would kill her if they ever found out she even owned them (let alone have them in their home) so she kept those hidden in a little pile in the back corner of the wardrobe.

She had every right to be terrified for many reasons. It’s not that she was not loyal or a rebel, per say. She was born and raised into a Christian family, all strict rules of modesty and heavy morals applied to her daily life. She was always daddy’s little girl in the simplest sense possible.

She wouldn’t ever dare roll her eyes at him or purposefully make him disapprove of her, ever. Sure, she was raised in a rich family, so she was used to getting everything she always wanted. Material things being at the top of the list. Even then she remained as humble as possible.

Especially when she thought her strong faith was behind it all.

Do well for God, he gives back in return, right? At least that’s what her naïve self believed at the time. But she’d never admit it to her family that she now thought otherwise, especially to her mom.

If anything, God was now banning them all to Hell anyway.

Her vanity was those of every girl’s dreams. Drawers filled with everything you could only wish of having. Inside were lingerie of every shade (from fiery red to pure jet black, like the night sky in the city), style, and earrings of every pearl and diamond crystal variety you could think. Her favorite would always be the garters.

She’d clip each of the four clasps into place just above her knees with her nimble fingers and then she’d sit opened legged in front of the mirror.

Diligently, and with prestige dexterity, she’d apply her blood red lipstick and her four inch black heels.

After an o shape with her lips around her fingers and a loud pop, she’d walk around her room and close her eyes, envisioning herself as a burlesque girl and a sensual song playing in the background. After all, she had all the right in the world to be the exact opposite at night than what she was during the day. Morally, at least.

She still remained as the same sweet, innocent, and faithful young girl she always was. But she had big hopes and dreams, especially in film and dance. God should be okay with dreams, she thought.

When she had learned the truth it was just short of her 20th birthday. She unwontedly found out that her father and brother were different souls at night, too. She wished she never found out that everything that had been lying in front of her had been a lie, and instead of life being a gifted blessing it was instead a bloody carcass hades.

Their life wasn’t one she liked to admit to partaking in. There were times where she would trick into telling herself that they weren’t doing it. She’d trick herself into thinking that way so that when she saw her dad that night, she’d be able to surpass the strong smell of whiskey and gun powder and kiss him goodnight.

Jimmy would roll his eyes with a shove past her shoulder.

As much as she detested it, she knew that without them, they wouldn’t be living in one of the most beautiful homes in all of Manhattan in complete safety. It was because of them that she wasn’t living out in the slums. She tried to divide that part of harsh reality from her brain as much as she could. Eventually, the pros outweighed the cons.

Maybe it was the fact that her body had finally developed into a women’s body. Her breasts were now fully perked and her legs were long and porcelain gorgeous; all she knew was they figured she could be put to good use.

At first she was repulsed by her own father’s comment, but if it meant having dinner that night and not getting killed, she would swallow those nagging feelings and take it head on. It never lasted too long anyway, and all she had to do was stand there and be her brother’s accessory.

When her father brought her into the business, he told her she would thank him one day when she had children of her own- she’d have all the men of the lower east side wrapped around her pretty little finger.

She was alright with it, until something happened that she would never forget. She had to swallow the repulsive bile and control herself not to run away then and there. She was too far in and knew way too much.

It was just another Tuesday night and she had been sitting at the dinner table, when both her mom and dad had stepped out of the dining room and into the kitchen. She ate her soup quietly, not being able to stop thinking about going back to her room to play burlesque, when Jimmy had turned to her.

At first it was the sudden motion that caught her attention, it had made a strand of blonde hair fly off her arm. Then it was the feral look in his eyes.

“Daisy,” his voice was low and dangerous. Daisy knew that tone very well because it was the tone all the other men used on their nights of missions. She was terrified and disgusted. Wide eyes trailed from her eyes to her full red lips and she felt a cold rigid finger against the heat of her skin on her upper thigh, pushing the fabric slightly up. She gulped.

Jimmy smiled, “You gorgeous thing.”

She thought about telling her father but she knew that if he found out, the one partnership that was bringing them the most cash would be jeopardized and it would have to be terminated and he’d be more than upset. She knew when her dad got angry, it was not good. It’s was messy and bad.

Back at dinner, her father would say grace before they ate, all of them hand in hand, and her mom would sit there quietly, a terrified and exhausted look in her smiles. She had heavy bags that weren’t there years ago, and her hair that used to always be done was now up in a messy clip, the baby hairs hanging against her wrinkled forehead, messy and unruly. But still she managed to smile, even if it wasn’t a real smile. It was all a stupid act.

It reminded Daisy of how she herself was when she was 16 - pretending to be oblivious to what her family were doing to the innocent. And so she hated her mom for that, for being just like her.

She felt disgusted in herself, she felt disgust for her family. Oh how she missed those days of when she was a child, before she even knew the truth. It was all so much simpler back then and she was so much happier. The worst it used to get was when her mother would tell her stories about when she was a nurse back in WWI.

She had wanted to be like her mom at first. Her mom was quiet, humble, caring, and extremely gracious. It’s what made her such a good person to have back in the war to help the soldiers- she was strong willed and knew she could help and would in her best ability do so. But those stories made Daisy question why any man in his right mind would want to do such a thing to their own body- putting themselves at such a risk.

Sure, she was privileged by riches, but problems didn’t have to be solved by violence. There must be other ways, like prayer or simply believing.

Her mother would tell her the graphic stories of the injuries that made Daisy queasy and fidget in her seat. She loved her mom’s qualities and how willing she was to help others who were injured and almost dying, but it still made no sense to her.

When daisy questioned her concerned to her mother she had simply said:

“Don’t question acts of the daring and misinterpret it for insanity. Simply thank the courages ones for their heart and strong character, for not all are willing to do the good and get destroyed in the worst way, not for their own benefit, but for others.”

To this day, Daisy wondered if her mom was indirectly referencing her own father- him lacking thereof.

Next, she wondered about when her mom stopped believing her own words.

Daisy wondered if she’d ever meet one one day - a soldier. Someone willing to get destroyed. Or if her mom had been lying and all men are the same, evil like her father and brother.

But she was evil, too.

No, I don't wanna fall in love.

A/N: yes. she’s pregnant.

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