#i don't know how to process this! i just! i'm frustrated and angry and this is why i haven't spoken on this before! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zivazivc · 2 months

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Sorry if this has already been asked before but why did the band break up? And did they break up on decent terms? Do they still talk to each other sometime?

It has been asked before, I just never answered jshfbdjcbh I'm still piecing everything together and stuff is changing or getting tweaked all the time, so I'm always super hesitant about answering these types of questions, afraid that people will take whatever I say as the final answer. So basically what I'm going to answer now will already contradict what I told some people already. And maybe in the future the story might go a little differently too (although I'm pretty satisfied with the current events)

Uhhh, get ready for a long info dump. I didn't expect I'd write this much...

Floyd basically stayed with the band for 8 years (from 14 till 22) and got pretty messed up in the process. The rest of the guys are all quite older than him so I guess I could say they were more responsible, or at least had a better understanding of their own limits (also they grew up in this kind of environment or grew up aware of it, while Floyd was oblivious and naive about all of it) and while they do get drunk and do drugs often, none of them are really dependent on them. They are also pretty good judges of character and know how to avoid trouble. Floyd on the other hand drove in with no breaks and constantly got himself in trouble that the rest (mostly Les) had to drag him out of. He also developed bipolar during this time (in my story Floyd constantly fluctuates between being saturated and being desaturated because of this) and his manic and depressive episodes started getting out of hand after his teenage years. (None of them are aware it's a mental disorder that's making him act so out of character.)

Floyd was becoming miserable because of this and all of his problems pilling up, and started blaming Les for the way he was. Les never argued this which only fueled Floyd to blame him more. In the end he was getting so frustrated and irritable that Floyd constantly tried starting arguments with him, even putting him down and getting aggressive at times because Les gets very unresponsive and closed off during personal conversations (guy is a giant onion of suppressed trauma that Floyd is hellbent on peeling open).

Eventually there was one fight too many, terrible things were said, some objects flew through the air, and Floyd walked out (or Hed kicked him out, I haven't decided yet) with the promise of going home and never seeing them again.

So, yeah, it was very messy and Floyd was the primary asshole, even though he's not really to blame either...

But Floyd didn't make it home (was too scared to sneak through Bergen Town to get to the tree (i don't think i can judge him for that either)) and he just returned to the reckless lifestyle, this time without anyone being there to keep him safe. So if he was messed up before, this is the time period where he got absolutely fucked up. This is also when he got heavily addicted to sour worms. And when he chronically slept around (half the time just to get offered free worms or have somewhere to sleep, other times because he was having manic episodes and was feeling hypersexual). (This is also potentially the period when he had the two eggs with that techno troll, but I'm still thinking if I want that to be canon to the story or not.) During this time he also grew to become very anxious and his self-confidence went to shit when he was being himself.

Then after about three years of that, he bumped into Les at some party. He wanted to dodge him out of shame but Les grabbed his arm and manhandled him outside to talk. Floyd felt like shit about the way they had split up and tried apologizing for all the stuff he had said and done to Les, but Les wasn't having any of that because he wasn't angry at Floyd, he was just worried about him. Les is also insanely empathetic like Floyd, and he knew that Floyd never really meant any of it, and that he was just looking for an outlet when he was hurting. Also he does think he is to blame for the way Floyd ended up.

Les wanted to know why he didn't go home like he had said (because that was the only reason Les had even let him walk out in the first place). A few exchanged words later and Floyd broke down telling him all the awful things he'd done, and Les promised to help him, feeling insanely guilty. Floyd wondered if he was allowed back in the band but Les made it clear that the band wasn't good for him and that he was never taking him back. Instead Les helped him go though rehab. I don't think trolls have those institutions (or at least not many are aware of them or how they work (I'm sorry but I refuse to believe the Trolls world has internet and cellphones, Mountrageons can keep that for themselves lol)), so it was more or less just Les finding Floyd a job and his own place to stay in the middle of bumfuck nowhere where he had no option but to detox, and constantly checking up on him to make sure he was doing okay. During this time they grew pretty close again. Or maybe the better term would be that Les slowly started putting his walls down again.

Hed needed a while to warm up to Floyd again. He's almost as protective of Les as Les is of him, and he resented Floyd for the way he had treated him.

Flea is pretty phlegmatic when it comes to any sort of arguing or drama. He was casual about seeing Floyd again, they were never super close anyway.

And Liv, she left the band when she and Hed broke up (haven't decided if that happened before or after Floyd left), so Floyd didn't get to see her again after bumping into Les at the party. And I haven't thought yet if they'd ever meet again somewhere later in life. But if they did, I think they'd both be happy to see each other.

Anyway...

Floyd managed to detox and successfully kept the job for about a year, but then he became manic again and messed it all up. After that he returned to his nomadic lifestyle, but he never fell as hard as those three years again. In my story Floyd's life is a constant cycle of getting his life together and fucking it up and booking to the next place. And he and Les are trapped in a never-ending cat and mouse game where they're both trying to fix each other.

So, uh, Les and Floyd are still very close and see each other somewhat often...

(sometimes monthly, sometimes yearly)

Yeah...

I am so fucking obsessed with them I'm gonna hurl. Please take this song before I combust:

youtube

#btw the status of Floyd's and Les's relationship is forever set on 'complicated'#but they are as obsessed with each other as i am obsessed with them #the song is too soft and vulnerable to be something les would sing out loud but inside he does feel it #papa roach is nu metal btw. tho idk where this song stands exactly #trolls #dreamworks trolls #ex bandmates #trolls floyd #trolls oc #les #answered #my art #btw I am only self educated on the bipolar disorder from what i've read and watched on the internet so have that in mind #my intention is to be respectful but i might not understand all of it. especially not the personal experience of those who have it #i'm just some random nerd #so in a way you could say floyd was diagnosed by a nonprofessional lol #i stayed up until 3am last night writing this #today i made the sketch that is no longer a sketch #should i put this post under a cut? it is pretty long #long post

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speirslore · 2 months

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when you get hurt hcs [officers + roe]

a/n: requested <3 usually in my writing the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in a vague way bc i know ppl have different preferences but some of these include getting shot (not graphic or anything) so ig that implies they're on the front lines

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck

[dick winters]

you hit your head prettyyyy hard, and you're out of it, probably definitely concussed

it happens right in front of dick and he tries really hard to keep calm

he wants to be strong and level-headed for you

shows more obvious affection then any of the men have ever seen from him; pets your hair, holds your hand, is always by your side

he immediately gets you a medic and transported to an aid station and doesn’t want to leave you

but when dick's back with easy, he gets uncharacteristically easily angry and frustrated...

he gets quiet and withdrawn and a little snappy with zelensky and nix... and they both immediately know why

whenever he can go see you, he's there.. he even gets behind on all his paperwork (but nix offers to help)

which dick is hesitant to accept for many reasons, he feels guilty, like he's not focusing on his duties but lew is always good at keeping the reports concise lol

very fragile with you, he isn't underestimating you but he just absolutely does not want to push you or hurt you

is a stickler for the rules, follows absolutely everything the doctor says

he has to wake you up every few hours and you keep insisting it’s unnecessary and dick is absolutely not having it

you try to get up and move around and all dick has to hear is the sheets moving and he just gives you that stare, a little bit like a disappointed mom, and you're right back laying down

he’s way more clingy than usual, wants to be by your side, subtly holding your hand

in that moment it definitely hits him how much he loves and cares about you... he hasn't really had time or space to process those feelings until now <3

[lewis nixon]

it does not look good at first

it's really scary for everyone there, you loose a lot of blood and lose consciousness

lew is not there when you're first shot in the leg and everyone is very glad that he didn't have to see it

but when he finds out... oh he is not keeping cool, is not pretending even a little bit to be okay

starts lashing out and snaps at the driver who's taking him to the hospital to drive faster, mad that they didn't tell him sooner, mad that you were injured, mad at the war, furious at absolutely everything

lew has to be monitored by dick not to go full self destruction mode and get incredibly drunk

he hates just sitting with the constant uncomfortable feeling and reminder that you're hurting

he will not leave your side at first when you’re sleeping a lot, on a lot of medicine, and out of it

one nurse does approach him when he's the only vistor in the hospital left, "sir, the visiting hours-"

he just looks up, obviously devastated, voice cracking, "i'm can't leave. you can drag me out but i'm not going, thanks."

they back off after that

does go through a phase where he hates going once you're more conscious because he kills him to see you like that and face this feels irrational guilt he feels for not being there

because he definitely has the tendency to avoid his problems and things that hurt him

but it hurts you too and you don't fully understand

you look up at dick and harry, slightly delirious from the morphine, tearing up, "does he not want to see me anymore?"

after that they do drag lew to see you and you just straight up tell him feeling guilty is pointless and not fair to himself (or you)

and then it's right back to not leaving your side and always trying to make you laugh or smile

[ron speirs]

okay so i love the angel of the company x speirs trope

by now he's the co of easy and your relationship is a widely known secret...

he assigns you and the group of other men to a patrol... it wasn't an overly risky or bad order, a standard order from sink

but you guys make contact and you're shot in the arm

it just absolutely wrecks him

the guys feel like he's just going to go across enemy lines and find the soldier that shot you himself

the rest of the guys are furious too because everyone just absolutely loves you

for a short time, he's mad at the other soldiers on the patrol and you have to reminder him they didn't do anything wrong

but ron is really just irrationally mad at himself for not being there, for not being psychic, he's just angry he somehow didn't stop this

ron is not controlling and not possessive and he knows you can hold your own but he feels responsible for taking care of you and making sure you're safe

even if he can't quite articulate all of those feelings yet

he doesn't understand all the emotions he feels and doesn't even have time to try to understand them

he listens so attentively to the doctors, he can recite everything they've said word for word

like with chuck, he demands the absolute best from the doctors

this incident shows his more compassionate side and the guys start to see how much he really cares about you... bc they're protective of you too!

you have to comfort him and his voice breaks

and he feels weak and he feels bad that you're comforting him and not the other way around

"i'm messing everything up, doing everything wrong," he says more to himself but you frown, eyebrows furrowed and everything

"you're so hard on yourself, ron. when it's not your fault, it was routine, you didn't shoot me. then i'd be really pissed." you smile and he smiles weakly... but he's on edge for a longgg time after this

[carwood lipton]

unfortunately you and lip just cannot catch a break

your leg gets injured while he has pneumonia

it's not a major injury but a bullet ricocheted off of a wall and slightly grazed you and you need a few days of staying off of it

lip really tries to be comforting

and wants to be there for you and he is!

but it's very hard for him, he just wants you to be okay so badly, even when he himself isn't okay

trying to lecture you about staying off of your leg and asking others for help but breaking out into a coughing fit and then you're trying to help him sit up and to go get some hot water for him

and then he's back to telling you to stop and starts hoarsely calling for luz

it's a MESS

but carwood is a natural caretaker and has been one for most of his life

it makes him hover sooo badly especially because since he's sick too he doesn't have a lot of work to keep him busy

but you're not complaining honestly, it's nice to have more private time and something of a break, even if you're both miserable

you get the special privilege of an actual private back bed room with a mattress and blankets

kind of a bonding experience

you just laugh because what the fuck

it's kind of romantic, first time in a longgg time in an actual bed together

you just go back and forth talking about your future and the life you want after the war

"i don't like this wallpaper," you murmur into his chest

he laughs and that turns into coughing again and you're just rubbing his back trying not to bend your leg... domestic bliss <3

[buck compton]

buck... does not take it well

he takes it extremely hard

like his reaction to joe and bill...

you have pneumonia and the peniciln you need isn't available in bastogne

and it's even worse that he finds out you're sick only a few hours after that and that you've been sick and struggling for the past few days

maybe his reaction would've been different earlier on in the war

but now, it just feels like a destructive domino effect that's sparing no one

it's obvious after all of his friends injuries and your pneumonia that he couldn't stay on the front line... his red bleary eyes and slightly trembling hands said enough

when he gets taken off the line, you're both in an aid station together for a few hours before you're both transferred to different hospital

so his presence is silent reassurance

you want so badly to comfort him but you're so sick and he doesn't want you to, he feels so guilty leaving you

but you hoarsely tell him he needs a break and to process what happened

you're feeling slightly better this day so that makes it a little better... but not that much

both of you have been through hell

but there is a light in the tunnel... or at least you feel that way

buck isn't on the front lines anymore and you both have a chance at a life together post-war

he does not want to leave you, it has to take a lot of malarkey's coaxing him and promising to update buck

[eugene roe]

gene can't decide if having medical knowledge makes it better or worse

and if being the medic and being the one to have their hands covered in the your blood, was better than leaving it in the hands of someone else

he decides it's awful... definitely worse

the very few hours he slept, it was just dreaming of your terrified face

and he wakes with a jolt and is completely miserable

and life just goes on...

a lot of pacing and murmuring

gene closes in on himself when he's upset and stressed, so he becomes even quieter than normal

and the other guys are worried like ??? do we need to intervene and lip just stops them, "leave him alone, he'll be okay."

prays for you a lot, gripping his rosary so tightly and the photo that he has of the two of you when you were still in england

when you both felt some semblance of normalcy

he can't abandon the company to stay with you full time at the aid station to his incredible frustration and disappointment

it's just hard for him to go on like everything's fine, it shatters whatever illusion he has of fairness and hope and safety

whenever someone else gets injured or they need supplies, he'll take any excuse to ride back to the aid station to see you

and if anyone else goes, they always see you and give gene an update

winters definitely notices and tries to give him opportunities to see you

likes watching you rest and sleep (because you definitely needed it, even before you got injured) in the sweetest, non-creepy way

gene loves to just sit with you, see you with his own eyes, and know for certain that you're okay

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers imagine #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #carwood lipton x reader #ron speirs x reader #buck compton x reader

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sarahowritesostucky · 4 months

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📖"Worth The Wait"

Rated: Mature

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x reader

Tags: soulmate au, Dom/sub au, age difference (26/34), sub reader, soft!dom Steve, bossy!dom Bucky, soulmarks, angst/comfort, stalking, grinding, virginity kink

Summary: When you find out what the two of them have been hiding from you all these years - and more importantly, what they've been depriving you of - you don't react well. You may be a submissive and they may be two Doms with whom your relationship runs deep, but you just cannot with these two idiots. Not this time.

"Please just wait a second. You're overreacting! Come on, Doll, won'tcha just let us expl-"

You whirl around at the nickname, furious. "No!" You reach up to smack away the hand that was reaching for you—Bucky's hand. He looks so hurt by it, and you grit your teeth, mad at him for his audacity to act hurt over this. "Don't call me that," you grit out, face red from how high your blood pressure currently is (and the crying, though you're doing your best to push that back until you can get away from them).

"Sweetie—"

"No! I said shut up!" You glare daggers at him. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

"Honey ..."

"And neither do you!" you snap, turning the daggers on Steve. You point at him, then Bucky, jabbing each of them once in their chests with your finger. "I'm not your 'Honey', I'm not your 'Sweetie'. I'm the girl whose life you've ruined for the past twelve years, and you don't get to act like you care about me now!"

Bucky sighs like you're being unreasonable, and that pisses you off even more than him acting hurt over it had. "Doll, come on. It's not that big of a—"

"God! Just stop!" You turn back to your apartment door and shakily get your keys out and fit the right one to the lock, your angry tears about to burst out of you from frustration when you fumble a few times before getting it open. You feel the heat of the two of them at your back and you push the door inward and take a step in, then turn back around to face them—they're closer, right at the threshold. "Get back," you say tersely, body tensing up at the threat that they might follow you in. You can't take that right now. You need to be alone. You have to process this.

"Come on, Peach. Just let us explain, please. Let's talk about this."

Goddamn him. It's like he's trying to use up his whole repertoire of pet names just to spite you. "There's nothing to talk about!" You grab the edge of the door and push it to slam it shut in their faces, but Bucky's metal hand comes up and stops it from closing completely.

His expression is harder now, his voice lower as he gives you a stern look. "Don't shut us out, Peach."

You huff, sick and tired of his superior attitude. Normally, you like the way he coddles you, talks down to you, calls you pet names—it makes you feel special and warm—but not today. Today you just found out that Stucky (as you refer to the pair of them) are your soulmates—both of them. That's rare but not unheard of. They're both Doms, after all, so it only figured that one or both of them was eventually going to get the tingle for some sub, somewhere, someday. And now you know it's you.

That's not what you're mad about, though. Your stomach had dropped right out when Bucky admitted that he and Steve have known about this for twelve years. Twelve fucking years! And then Steve had the nerve to tell you that they've been tag teaming as "chaperones" (read: stalkers) for the entirety of your dating life—ever since you were fourteen and started going out with Jimmy Bollinger in the ninth grade.

You get sicker the more you think about it: all those fumbled relationships, all those boys (and later, men) who seemed to like you so much, and then who suddenly lost interest; all those times when a Bumble match would stand you up, or when a few kisses and seemingly fantastic dates led to a sudden ghosting. Now you know why. Steve and Bucky have been "handling" (read: intimidating) them out of your sphere for over an entire decade!

You can't even begin to process the betrayal you feel, how confused and upset this makes you. You feel like your best friends have just played the cruelest trick ever, and you can't let them come into your apartment now because you know if you do, they'll just Dom (read: bully) the upset out of you and that is not what you want. It's not what you need. You need to cry and vent and rage. You need to call Wanda over and drink more vodka than Stucky would ever allow you to. So no, you can't let them in.

You sneer at Bucky's hand on the door and his superior expression. "Take your fucking hand off my fucking door, right fucking now, Barnes," you warn, absolutely fed up with him and totally showing it on your stone cold face.

For a second, his eyes narrow and he looks like he'll fight you on it. But Steve puts a hand on his shoulder and says quietly, "Babe," addressing Bucky as his husband. You clench your teeth and glare Bucky down. His features pinch as if it's physically painful for him to respect your wishes, but he does pull back—which, unbeknownst to him, saves him from a swift punch to the face. He opens his mouth like he'll say something else, continue arguing that you shouldn't be upset at them, but before he can, you slam the door shut in their faces, rapidly locking it and throwing the deadbolt once it's closed.

You stand there, immediately breaking into the tears you were trying so desperately to hold back in front of them, both palms flat on the door and then your forehead resting between them as all the anger inside you suddenly collapses into sorrow.

How could they do this to you?!

You hear them talking from the other side of the door, though it's muffled. They sound frustrated, talking to each other, arguing back and forth in low, hissed voices. You can't make all of their words out, but you do hear Steve scolding Bucky for his aggressiveness, and then Bucky sniping back about Steve being too soft.

"Now she'll never come outta there," he complains to Steve. "She needs us! We need to talk to her, hold her! We need to explain—"

"—You think I don't know that?! Think I don't want her in my arms just as bad as you do?!"

You scoff at the back and forth of their arguing and pull away from the door, not wanting to hear it. You stomp back to your bedroom and slam the door shut, hard, hoping they hear it from out in the hall. You toss your purse on the bed, then yourself. You let yourself break down completely and just sob into your pillow for a while; hot, angry, devastated tears wetting the pillowcase and making you snotty and miserable as you think about the joke they've made of you all these years.

Every single time, you think, horrified as the realization sinks deeper and deeper with the more memories you drag up and examine. From Jimmy in ninth grade, from high school crushes and a ruined prom night, through all your college boyfriends and after-college boyfriends, all the way up to your third date/breakup with Derrick today: All of it has been because of them.

You'd thought there was something wrong with you; that you were a bad kisser, or not that pretty, not thin enough or not toned enough, not smart or interesting enough. You'd angsted over whether maybe you talked too much about heavy topics on first dates, or didn't give off a heavy enough sub vibe—or too much of a sub vibe. All these years trying so desperately to improve yourself, to make yourself lovable, and it turns out that Steve and Bucky were chasing away any chance you had at love in the first place.

You break down for a while in your room, crying and fuming and crying some more, utterly devastated at their betrayal. Eventually the tears run out, and instead you just get really, really angry.

The audacity of them! You remember the scene from earlier, when you'd bumped into them outside the restaurant where Derrick had cautiously told you that he "wasn't ready for a relationship," and that "it was him, not you." You'd left, managing not to cry despite how dejected you'd felt, so sure that it was you (again), and found Bucky and Steve standing there, looking like they'd been waiting for it to happen.

Steve had looked nervous, Bucky less so. He'd been the one to comfort you as you all walked back towards the building you shared. He'd told you that the guy didn't deserve you anyway, that you were too good for him—all the usual platitudes that did only a little to heal the hurt of another rejection. You hadn't thought much of how they'd just been there outside the restaurant, chalking it up to coincidence at first.

God, you felt so stupid now! All these years and you've never seen it. You lay there in your bed and replay that evening in your mind, going back to the moment it'd happened:

"Just tell her," Steve says, once you've reached the stoop in front of your building.

"Tell me what?"

Bucky takes a deep breath and puts both hands on your shoulders as he looks in your eyes and gently confesses, "It's us, Doll. We're the reason why none of your relationships have really worked out." He glances over at Steve, and the two of them share a knowing look, before he turns back to you and the both of them stare you down. "We've been waiting for you."

You get a sinking sense of dread right away, even though you don't understand what he means. "What?" You lift your hands to cover his on your shoulders, intending to push them off, but he only curls his fingers more firmly there. "What are you saying?"

"We're your soulmates, Honey," Steve says, while Bucky nods. "We have been for ... well ... since you were fourteen." He kind of winces when he says it, and you gape for a full five seconds before you manage to squeak,

"What?!"

Bucky leads you over to the bench that sits in front of your building, urging you down to sit between them. Their big bodies crowd you in from either side, pressing up against you, but for the first time in your life, it doesn't feel like safety. "No," you whimper, looking back and forth between them to try and see that this is just a mean joke. "You don't ... you aren't ..." Steve nods seriously, and you feel your breath leave you. "You can't be. I mean, not all this time? You knew? And you didn't ... you knew you were my ..."

"Yeah, your soulmates, Honey." Steve puts his hand on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze that you suppose is meant to be comforting. "It's a good thing, yeah?"

You shudder, humiliated. "How could you?"

They share a confused look, mistaking your meaning and each of them answering simultaneously:

"We have your Words."

"We felt it happen."

You scoff. "I mean: how could you do this to me?!"

They both look shocked that you're so upset about it. They hold you still to keep you sitting on the bench between them when you try to get up. "Hold on, Doll. Let us explain."

"Explain? Explain?!"

"We were just protecting you, Hon, until you got a little older, until you were ready." Steve is so coaxing, so sweet like he always is, and Bucky hums and pets your arm as he acknowledges that what Steve is saying is the truth.

“But we watched out for you.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“We had to look after you,” Steve explains, like it’s common sense. “Couldn’t let any of those guys get serious with you, you know?”

“... Oh my god,” you whisper. Neither one of them seems to pick up on the horror that's dawning on you, as you realize the full scope of the situation. "Since I was ... f-fourteen?" you say, beginning to hyperventilate, thinking of all the not-quite-boyfriends of so many years, the canceled dates, the ghosted texts, the "I'm not ready for this" excuses.

You're ... you're still a virgin because of these two!

New strength enters your body and you surge to your feet, breaking through their hold on you. You turn to them with angry tears already building up behind your eyes. This is unbelievable! How could they do this to you? "How?!" you demand, voice wavering with emotion. "Show me."

They each pull down on the necklines of their tee shirts, stretching the fabric to reveal the top swells of their left pecs. And there, just underneath their left collarbones, are the matching marks:

You guys are complete idiots, you do realize this?

The Words on their skin are in that odd shade of muted red that everyone's Words are in—like an old scar that never quite healed—and you stare, unable to breathe for a couple of seconds. You must've called them "idiots" and "dumbasses" a thousand times over the years, but the second you see their marks, you somehow know the exact instance when you'd said those words; the memory of the encounter playing out in your mind as clear as if it were right there in front of you on a tv screen.

You flounder for a bit as you try to make sense of it, to somehow make what they're telling you less awful. "So you've ... you've just been ruining my dates for ... for ten years?!"

Neither of them look prepared for this reaction from you. "Well ... twelve," Steve grimaces. "But it was 'cause we knew—"

"Because you knew and didn't tell me! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Sweetie, just calm down for a sec. This is good news. We were trying to protect you."

You turn all your anger on Bucky at that point, incensed. "Protect me?!"

You don't miss the way that his eyes harden, how he squares his jaw and gives you a firm, "Yes. To protect you." You scoff, and he leans forward and grabs your wrist and tugs you back to the bench, but you land ungracefully in his lap and he wraps his arms around your middle so that you can't escape, your back pressed tightly to his chest.

"Let me go!"

"No. You're going to sit still like a good girl and hear us out," he says, using his Dominant tone, and you freeze at hearing it. Bucky and Steve never intone with you. They're your friends. They're respectful. Sure, there's always been a small degree of sexual tension present between you, but they're married, they're Stucky, and they've always been platonic with you. Always! Bucky's breath hits warm against your scalp and the shell of your ear as he tries to calm you down. "You were too young at fourteen, Doll," he says, still speaking sternly but also compassionately. "Can't you understand that?"

Steve nods along in agreement. "You weren't ready to be tied down to someone. You weren't ready to be Dommed, and you sure as hell weren't ready for intimacy of any kind."

"Intimacy?" you sneer, struggling and failing against the strength of Bucky's arms. "Like I'd have any clue what that is, huh? I'm twenty-six goddamn years old and I've never gotten past second base! I thought there was something wrong with me. And now I find out, after all these years of angsting, that it's because you two have been cock blocking me?!"

"Calm down," Bucky growls in your ear—another Dominant order, just as Steve says,

"Sweetheart, please ..."

To your great shame, you have a physical reaction to Bucky's hold on you: his strong arms restraining you and his scruff brushing against your neck and his Dominant tone seeping into your brain—and Steve's coaxing entreaties coming from the side don't help. It's not under your control, how your clit pulses and your panties get a little wet spot from all that stimulation. You are a submissive, after all, and this is Bucky doing this to you. How many times have you thought about it? How many nights spent lying in bed have you brought him to mind, or him and Steve to mind, as you've slipped a hand down your belly and—

No, you think, shutting those thoughts off in anger. You're not going to go soft for them now. They can't get away with this.

You've been crying at this point, a few tears escaping down your cheeks like firebrands, only increasing your humiliation. And of course Steve coos and leans in to wipe them away. "Hey, heey, Honey. It's okay. We're here now."

You jerk away from him like his hands are poison and you hiss, "Don't touch me."

Steve's hand falls away, his face so full of concern. "Honey ..." he laments.

"No. Don't call me that. Don't touch me." You squirm hard in Bucky's arms again, and when he doesn't let you go you huff and turn to Steve. "Make him let me go. Now."

Your gaze must be murderous, because after a brief hesitation, Steve reluctantly convinces Bucky to let go of you. You immediately get to your feet and storm off, hurrying into the apartment building and towards the elevator, the two men following at your back. "Leave me alone!"

They catch up to you at the elevator before the doors can fully shut, Bucky glaring and Steve wincing as they block the doors and force their way inside. "Please," Steve says, begging you to understand. "It was for your own good."

Wrong thing to say. You go to jab the button for your floor and cross your arms, keeping yourself away from them—and well out of Bucky's reach. Bucky pushes the button for his and Steve's floor, too (it's just below yours), and then swipes his hand over the buttons for every other floor. You hiss and whirl around. "Christ. Real mature, Bucky."

"We need the time to talk."

"You could have told me!"

"We wanted you to have your freedom, Hon," Steve pleads. His kind tone only makes you angrier.

"Freedom?! How is that freedom? Freedom to do what? to spend years trying to find a connection with someone and fail? to figure that it must be me; that I'm, I dunno, overestimating myself? to convince myself I'm a seven and then decide that I must really only be, like, a solid four 'cause no one wants me?"

"The fuck?" Bucky growls and steps forward. "You're gorgeous." But he says it like a chastisement instead of a compliment, and you're far too angry to take any compliments from him, anyway.

"Fuck you!"

"Is that what you would've preferred?" he says darkly. "Hm? Because we were twenty-four back then, already out of college. And you were fourteen fucking years old, Sweetheart." You blush and avert your eyes, and Bucky nods, vindicated. "You really think two grown-ass men were gonna come busting in when you were still practically a kid? Take advantage of you in your prissy little ballerina bedroom? Hm? Pop your cherry on that sweet lacy duvet?"

"Buck," Steve complains.

It's a mean assessment, but it's accurate, and you suddenly hate that Bucky knows what your childhood bedroom back at your parents' apartment looks like. "No," you answer him tightly. "But you should've told me, not stalked me for twelve fucking years to make sure I never get laid!" You're still blushing as you say the words, but Steve looks a little ashamed, so you're glad you did.

At their floor, they try to coax you out into the hallway to go home with them like you've done so many times in the past, but you stay in the elevator and jab at the close door button, trying to shut them out. No such luck.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky asks as he steps back on, Steve right behind. You back up until you hit the elevator's wall, nowhere to go. Bucky crowds you in while Steve stands beside you. They both look a little less apologetic now and a little more ... well, dominant.

"Home," you say, meaning for the word come out assertive. Instead it comes out timid and you nearly cringe at yourself. "M'going home. Alone."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Oh is that so?" The way he says it is dark and dangerous and smooth as satin. It makes your pulse quicken—but not in fear.

"Bucky," you breathe, trying to move to get around him, but they both block you in. "Ugh! Let me go."

They don't allow it. Bucky shoves his knee forward, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and he moves closer, pressing, holding you in place with his thick thigh wedged up against your clothed cunt. He rests his weight through his hand against the wall, right next to your head. Then, holding eye contact and with his lips parted, expression intent, he grinds his thigh forward.

You make an embarrassing 'yip' of a sound, and his eyes darken. You've never seen him look like that—not at you. It makes something nervous and desperate begin to gather in your belly. "Stop," you say, trying so hard to make your voice firm. You push against his chest, mad that he's using his dominance to bring out your submission. You've never subbed for Bucky or Steve—or anyone, really. At least nobody you care about. Since you've been unable to gain a sexual partner all these years, you've always used the services provided by Pro Doms - their platonic services, because no way in hell were you ever going to sign up to lose your virginity in a glorified medical clinic.

"Just relax for me," Bucky intones, nearly purring the words down at you. "Let us take you home and talk this out, huh?"

You whine at the increasing tug in your belly, embarrassed. "Don't–don't do that," you stammer, turning your head away from him. "S'not fair."

Bucky hums, pleased, but Steve clears his throat and then you hear him murmuring, "Buck, let her go. You can't force this. It isn't right."

You breathe a sigh of relief when Bucky pulls back from you, removing the pressure from between your legs. You have to fight the urge to put your hand down there, or to try and rub your thighs together. His big thigh pushed up between your legs had felt so good, and now it's gone.

"You liked that," Bucky says smugly, eyes gleaming. "Admit it. That made you wet just now, didn't it?"

You're scowling as Steve is once again chastising his husband for his crude comments. "Buck! Come on, man."

"Like I'd ever get turned on by you," you snap, hands balled into fists so you don't try to hit him again. "You're like my brother. Gross!"

It's not true. Not even a little bit. But you can tell that it gets under Bucky's skin, that it bothers him, so you sneer at him all the more and jab the button for your floor. The elevator moves up. Bucky's not intoning anymore, so that tugging in your belly fades away and your anger resurfaces, only this time it's even worse. You scowl at him and step forward, shoving him in the chest with your full might.

He barely moves, and when you shove him again and again, he only moves back by a small step, keeping his balance and leering at you because it's obvious how weak you are and how strong he is—and he knows that as a sub, you can't help but like that.

"Ugh!" You're ready to cry again, so mad and so humiliated by what they've done to you. "I hate you!"

"Don't say that, Honey," Steve mourns, still so fucking kind that you can hardly stand him any better than Bucky.

"Fuck you too, Steven," you snap, groaning in relief when the elevator finally 'dings' at your floor and the doors open. You step out and hurry down the hall towards your apartment, knowing that they're following you.

Which leads us all the way back to you, crying and fuming in your bedroom; and Bucky and Steve, ostensibly locked out in the hallway. You have no idea how long they loiter out there, but you're too afraid to open the door and check. You turn on your tv for background noise and make tea, checking the peep hole occasionally, but you can’t hear them talking anymore. If they are out there, they're making sure to stay out of eyeshot.

You huff at your own paranoia when you pull back from the most recent peephole check. You don't need to be doing this. You've already spent forty minutes crying, over an hour fuming, and another hour cry-fuming less vigorously over a few cups of tea. It's time to call for reinforcements.

"Wanda? Hey. I need you to come over for a girls' night."

Wanda, ever perceptive, can hear your clogged sinuses through the phone. She asks.

You sniffle and admit, "No, it's not good. Bring Nat if she's free. And plenty of Vodka."

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Text

Just Called to Say I Love You

Harry looked down at his phone, surprised to see that he had an incoming call. He was at work, which meant he didn't typically get any calls during this time. His friends and family knew that when he was in the studio, he was pretty much off the grid; he couldn't have anything from the outside world bothering him.

So he was surprisied to see his phone light up.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"Yep! I was just calling to say I love you!" you said, your voice tender and sweet in Harry's ear.

Frowning, he said, "That—That's it?"

"Yeah, I just haven't heard from you in a while, and you're always out of the house. It feels like I'm dating a ghost," you joked. "So, I was out and I passed that little bakery where we met, and I just felt compelled to call you and tell you that I love you. So...I love you."

Looking back, Harry realized how much of a complete and utter ass he had been to you. Your reasoning for calling was incredibly sweet, and he honestly didn't deserve your kindness. He should've said thank you, he should've told you she called at the perfect time, he should've said I love you back.

"Y/n...You know I don't like distractions while I'm at work."

You didn't say anything for a moment, perhaps too stunned to say anything in reply. Then, "You're right. I'm sorry."

Harry couldn't say anything before you hung up the phone, but he still heard a small sniffle just as the call ended. He'd known he fucked up the minute the words were out of his mouth, no amount of stress or frustration about his writing process should ever be taken out on you, and he just did exactly that in the worst way possible.

"I gotta go," Harry said, stepping into the room where everyone else was waiting for him to return.

"There an emergency?" one of his producers asked. Harry never left a session early.

"Kind of—I mean yeah. It's an emergency, so I have to run. Probably won't be in the rest of the week."

Harry didn't stick around the studio very long. He quickly gathered his things and rushed out to his car. He called you the minute he was on the road, but you didn't pick up any of the times he called. Cursing under his breath, he stepped on the gas a little harder.

When he got home, you were lounging on the couch watching a movie. The house was dark, so he couldn't see your expression, but he knew you well, and the way you were curled up into a ball and huddled under a blanket meant you weren't happy.

"I should've said it back, I'm sorry."

You knew Harry had come into the house, but you weren't ready to look at him let alone speak to him. So you ignored your boyfriend, staring blankly at the movie playing on the TV.

All you'd wanted today was a two minute conversation with Harry. You knew he was pretty strict about his work life and home life, but his work life had been taking over recently, and you knew he could get wrapped up in writing and recording, and you loved how hard he worked, but you just wanted to hear his voice. You just wanted to tell him you loved him.

"I was a dick on the phone, and I know you like your space when you're angry, so...I'm home, and I want to talk, but when you're ready."

He sounded like a kid who'd been scolded. Rolling your eyes, you said, "I didn't want space, that was the whole point of me calling you."

"I know. I'm so sorry, baby. You were just trying to be nice and I was horrible. I never want to make you upset, but I did today, and...I can't apologize enough for that."

You knew you couldn't stay mad at him forever. Harry was an ass earlier, but you knew he didn't mean it, that it really was him getting caught up in his work. He snapped at you, and in a few weeks, you would probably snap at him, and months from now you might have a big argument. You were in a relationship, it wasn't always perfect.

"I brought something home to 'sweeten' the deal in case you're still on the fence about letting me onto that couch."

You and Harry had had little tiffs before, which meant both of you knew how to be forgiven faster. At the mention of sweets, you perked up, even if you were still a little upset. Still not looking at him, you said, "I have to see it first."

Harry was there in seconds, handing a little pastry box over to you. Your eyes landed on the logo printed on the box. "You went."

"Course. Had to get the best for my best girl."

"And it's—"

"Your favorite. Go on," he said, motioning for you to open it.

It was from the same bakery you mentioned earlier, the one where you and Harry met. It was out of the way of the studio, which meant he added about an extra thirty minutes to his drive home to get it. You took a piece of the pastry out with your fingers and popped it in your mouth. Your eyes closed for a moment, taking in not just the taste but all the memories that came with it.

When your eyes opened, Harry was looking at you expectantly. Scoffing, you told him, "Yeah fucking right. But you can join me on the couch."

"I'll take it," he said, quickly getting under your blanket so that you were pressed up against each other. He squeezed you tight, kissing your temple repeatedly while you enjoyed your apology-treat. "I love you," he mumbled. "I love, love, love you."

"Babe, don't distract me. I'm eating."

Harry chuckled. "Okay. I deserve that."

#harry styles #boyfriendrry #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles concept #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles angst

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taylormarieee · 5 months

Text

Your on my naughty list princess-Day 13 Bi-Han

Prompt: Your being naughty and Bi-han puts you in your place...

Pairing: Bi-Han x Fem!Hispanic!Reader

Word Count: 909

Warnings: Dom!Bi-han, Brat taming, Rough sex, Sub!Reader, arguing in spanish, Confused but turned on Bi-han, Tummy bulge, finger sucking.

"¡Pero Bi-Han! No es justo. Quiero venir contigo." You say all dressed up for the party Bi-han and his brothers were invited to.

(But Bi-han! It's not fair. I want to come with you.)

"No. That's final darling." He says, voice deep and laced with frustration at your constant determination.

"Ugh your so fucking unfair." You say rolling your eyes and walking to your bedroom.

Bi-han stands there completely shocked trying to process what you just said.

Once he's processed it, he storms to your room in a hurry. If he was in those cartoons, steam would be blowing from his ears.

"What did you just say?" Bi-Han raises his voice a bit. You jump slightly and turn around.

"I said...Your fucking unfair! ¡Esto es una absoluta tontería y puedes dormir en el sofá esta noche! Fuck you Bi-Han!" You yell making Bi-han even more pissed off.

(This is absolute bullshit and you can sleep on the couch tonight)

For some odd reason that sent a spark through Bi-Han's spine all the way down to his dick. Seeing you mad made something vicious in him arise. Something Primal... Something Dominant...

"Sweetheart, why are you always such a fucking brat! You can't come! Why can't you just be a good girl and accept that?" Bi-han pleads angrily.

He couldn't for the life of him comprehend why you acted like such a brat. Granted he really loves it when you act like this, he also wants you to be his good little girl who obeys everything her GrandMaster says.

"No, Bi-Han! I'm not going to accept it and be your little girl. ¡Seré tu niña buena cuando me lleves a esa fiesta!" You yell. Something in you made you want to continue to argue.

(I'll be a good little girl when you take me to that party!)

You don't know if you were a masochist and just loved to get him angry but it was turning you on and you could feel the lust radiating off him as well.

"oh, I'll teach you how to be a good girl." Bi-Han responds darkly. He lifts you up gripping your ass hard.

You moan at the feeling and smash your lips against Bi-Han's. He moans into your mouth while walking you over to the bed.

He lays you down gently while he's still on top of you and your legs still wrapped around his torso.

He thrusts his hips into you. Both of you so eager to get each others clothes off. Once your clothes are removed, you try to touch his aching member bu he stops you.

He pins you hands over your head so you stop touching him. "Brats don't get to touch. Only good girls do." He says with a soft smirk.

You whine and squirm getting angry. "See this is why you don't get to touch. All you have to say is 5 words." He says, his smirk getting bigger and Bigger.

You sigh and roll your eyes, contemplating on whether you want to be a brat a bit more or give in to the throbbing between your legs.

Bi-Han lifts an awaiting and curious eyebrow and you sigh and give in to the throbbing sensation.

"I'll be a good girl." You say loud and proud with a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

He smirks and whispers in your ear, "Good job baby." He kisses along your neck and with one hand lifts his dick towards your entrance.

He kisses his way down, admiring your body and every sound you make.

"Mhm.. Bi-Han please." You whine out. He shushes you and tells you to be patient.

He comes back up and circles your clit. He slams his cock into you and you cry out. Your nails leaving marks all along his back.

He grunts in your ear as his thrusts become faster and deeper, reaching something inside you that made you scream his name louder than ever before.

He smirks and sucks on that sweet spot along your neck. Your eyes start to water as you feel overwhelmed by all this pleasure.

You try to push Bi-Han off you but he just keeps ramming into you like a hungry lion.

He watches as your eyes roll back and your mouth agape. He sticks his finger in your mouth and watches as you suck it.

His eyebrows furrow together and his mouth opens letting out a whimper as he watches you. He looks down to see the bulge his cock is making in your stomach.

Suddenly he feels the need to breed you. Forget his brothers and that party, he wanted you filled to the brim with his cum and he was going to make that happen.

Just the thought alone of you carrying his child or children made his cock jump with excitement.

He's so lost in the thought that he doesn't realize he's about to cum until it's too late.

He's shaking like never before and he's moaning and groaning. Your orgasm floods through you and he fills you up to the brim with his cum.

Painting your velvety walls white. He feels weak and dizzy just thinking about it.

"Mhmm... That was naughty what you did Bi-han. You've never did that before." You say weakly running you fingers up and down his muscular arm.

"Your naughty." He rebuttals with a slight chuckle. You smile and relish in the cold room caused by Bi-han.

Taglist: @yanderestarangel @crimsonbubble @aerangi @itzdarling

#bi han smut #bi han #bi han x reader

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bergoozter · 9 days

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I don't think it's wrong for people to be upset about this. I don't want their company to fail, I wish the best for them, but this move really does feel like a kick in the face to a lot of people.

$6 for a video a week, tops, is wild to me. I understand that they need more money to keep up production but this feels like the worst way to do that. I keep trying to find a way of looking at this that's positive but it's so difficult. Especially since they're also taking down their past content (which Watcher told Variety was the plan, and Ryan later went back on?). The whole thing just feels convoluted and tone deaf.

Again, I don't hate them or hope for their downfall or anything awful like that, but the fans are the ones who have supported them this whole time, I think we're allowed to feel upset by such a massive change. (Especially with it being broadcasted as something we'd all be ecstatic to hear.)

Sorry to just dump this all here, I know you're likely still processing the news too, I guess I just wanted to add in my two cents? Idk, not to pull out the mom line, but I rlly do feel like I'm not angry, just disappointed 😭.

i think i feel similarly. i am still processing and haven’t fully decided how i feel yet. both sides are right but the people being mean and cruel are the wrong ones which i really do hate to see some have stooped so low.

artists should be paid but loyal audiences shouldn’t be blindsided. i feel like a lot of decisions were made without us which sounds so selfish to say but the sentiment is there.

what’s frustrating is 6$ doesn’t seem like a big ask but it is for a lot of people. apart from those who would pay it but can’t, casual viewers wouldn’t even if they could. like i have a coworker that just enjoys one of their shows and i can’t see them paying to watch it (i’ll share my login but that’s not the point i’m making). it just alienates a lot of their viewers. :/

i believe it is misinformation that they’re taking down all their past content but i could be wrong if someone wants to correct or clarify for me!

i still have a lot of questions that i’m hoping get answered or worked out before this launches in full. i’ve been floating between disappointed/nervous and wanting to be excited all day, i’m just ready for today to be over.

#watcher #bergasks

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alexiabae · 9 months

Text

TIRED; caroline graham hansen x fem!reader

Summary: in which caro rant to y/n about how she felt on her national team.

Warnings: short fic for this precious sunshine.

Note: English is not my first language.

not my gif.

She read the breaking news.

And she was devastated.

If it was true, how can you leave out two of your best players out?

Two players who came to win the champions league.

Y/N grabbed her phone and was meeting by a photo of her with her girlfriend, making her forget momentarily about what she was going to do. She searched for Caro's number and pressed the button once she found it.

A tone.

Two tones.

And at the three tones, Caro answered it.

"Hola min kjærlighet." Caro greeted her in a groggy voice, clearing her throat after.

"Shit. Are you sleeping? I don't watch the hour, sorry." Y/N curses, making the forward laugh.

"Don't worry. I needed to wake up soon." The blonde informed, letting out a yawn.

Y/N bit her bottom lip; "I read the news... It's true?" She asked unsure, not wanting Caro to get mad or upset.

Caro sighed.

"It's true. I don't tell you anything because I don't care anymore about this national team." Caro hissed the last part.

Y/N could hear how pissed she is about it.

"You don't have fault about anything, okay? Neither Ingrid." Y/N let her know, even if she didn't know the full story.

"I know it. It's the fault of Hege. She didn't listen to us, to her players... It's frustrating. Sorry, I don't want to bother you about it." The Norwegian rarely gets mad or angry or raises her voice.

Y/N shakes her head even if her girlfriend couldn't see her. "No, no. You know that you can count on me, and if you want, I will be grateful to hear it." She said with a soft voice, putting herself better on her seat on the sofa, watching by her window the dark sky.

"Hege punished us for telling the truth. She didn't care if we lost match after match. She only cares about herself. We aren't good enough because we don't work sufficiently on it. We need staff people who care about us, not participating in the world cup. It matters if you do ridiculous things in front of the world." Caro said in a rush, her voice getting raised as her angrier thoughts showed up. "And Ingrid? She didn't say anything bad. She admitted our mistakes, but of course if you want to play you need to shut up and nod." She finished.

Y/N was really surprised by Caro's statement. Not from the words, if not for her tone of voice. It was a mix between angry and sad, winning the temper.

"My advice is that you need to do it for your teammates, they don't have the fault for your coach being uncompetitive." Y/N muttered, not wanting to disturb Caro. "And for your country. The people who show you their support, no matter the countries they are from. Like me for example." She tried her best to cheer her up.

Caro let out an inevitable soft chuckle at her last comment. They are in silence for a few minutes, processing everything in their minds.

"You will see Ana today." Y/N remind her, playing with her laces from her pajama short.

"Yeah. Something good, at least." The blonde muttered, rolling on her bed, closing her eyes.

"How is Ingrid?" Y/N can't resist asking by her friend.

"Affected. But she received some calls before and she is better. And she has us too." Caro explained.

Y/N felt bad. She found an hour ago about Norway's news and probably Mapi or some familiar found it hours ago and called the brunette.

"Sorry about not calling before... I was working." Y/N apologises, regretful for having a shit of a job.

"I supposed that you're working. Don't worry, babe. I just want it to be over and fly to the warm city where I live." Y/N giggles, finding funny how her nordic girlfriend hates the cold.

"What about me?" Y/N teases.

Caro plays a lazy smile. "You are the most I miss right now... So, be prepared when I come back because I'm not going to let you go."

"I can't wait." Y/N whispered, smiling remembering the moments with her.

"I will let the national team after the world cup." Caro confessed after a moment of silence. "I can't anymore. I'm really tired of their behaviour. They know what they want and they don't want me. So..." She trailed off, sighing.

"I will support every decision you make." Y/N support her.

Caro smiled; "Thank you, min kjærlighet. I just want to focus on us, family, friends and my club. That's all I want."

"Well, I'll let you rest a little more." Y/N said watching the hour on her phone, setting an alarm to watch the game in a few hours.

"Sorry that you asked for the morning to watch me play..." Caro said sadly. "I'll make it to you, I promise."

"Don't be silly. You don't have the fault. And sadly that type of shit always happens. So focus on passing to the next level."

Caro laughed at how her girlfriend denominated it like a video game.

"I will try my best if they let me." The blonde said. "For you." She added in a whisper.

"Te quiero." Y/N whispered back.

"Jeg elsker deg mer."

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #caroline graham hansen x reader #caroline graham hansen imagine #caroline graham hansen

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bimobuddy · 7 months

Text

Cheering up a Clown (Helluva)

Helluva Boss tk fic

Asmodeus x Fizzaroli

CW - Suggestive joke, but no actual NSFW content takes place.

Takes place after S2-E6 (spoilers)

Summary: Fizz is upset about his friendship situation with Blitzø, Ozzie decides to cheer him up

Fizz looked down at his metallic hands and sighed a little. His right arm a slightly lighter shade than his left, having been just recently replaced after the kidnapping incident.

He had spent fifteen years angry at his best friend, not talking to him, and the thing that brought them back together was a hostage situation. He knew logically what happened to him was a genuine accident, but getting over fifteen years of anger and sadness was easier said than done. And that bothered him.

"Deep in thought, are we?"

Fizz turned to look up at Ozzie, changed into his robe for the evening. "Hey, there's my Big C-" "You're making a rooster pun to avoid talking about it, Fizzy." Darn, he knew him well. Ozzie sat on the large bed next to his tiny partner. "If you want to talk, Fizz, I'm here to listen." He said with the most love and compassion Fizz had ever heard from anyone in Hell. And the fact that it was directed at him made Fizz want to open up.

"Blitzø and I made up during that hostage situation.. I wouldn't have escaped if not for him, and I realized the whole.. blowing up incident.. it was a genuine accident on his end," He looked up at Oz, who was listening, nodding every once in a while, "I also learned he tried to visit me multiple times, but the staff at the circus told him I didn't want to see him, and they never told me he came to see me.. They lied to us, Ozzie, to keep us from talking." He felt tears start to sting his eyes, both from anger at the situation, and sadness that he had lost fifteen years with someone he had considered his best friend.

Upon seeing the tears, Asmodeus was quick to scoop up his little clown partner and hold him in one arm, using the other to wipe his tears away. "Fizzy, dear, it's going to be alright. I can't tell you that the pain will just go away, but remember we don't die of old age, you have an eternity to rebuild this relationship with him, if that's what you want." Fizz looked up at him and nodded. Ozzie continued, "I also can't say I know how you feel, but I can imagine it's probably very frustrating, upsetting, and difficult to fully process right now. Right?" Fizz nodded again.

Oz sighed, "My poor little froggy, I hate seeing you so hurt," He gently pressed their foreheads together. With Fizz having robotic limbs, this was how they cuddled or showed affection, as his head was the most sensitive part of him now. He continued, "Everything will work out, alright? It will take time and effort, and I'll support you every step of the way, but it will work out."

Fizz managed a smile and nuzzled his forehead again, his tail flicking a little. Ozzie smiled right back and held him closer. "Hey, there's my happy little Jester, where'd ya go?" He joked, causing Fizz to giggle. It was quiet and soft, since he had just been crying. It was a start, but not enough for Ozzie.

He started to pepper kisses over Fizz's forehead and face, while a gentle hand skittered up his side. "Smile, Fizzy~" Fizzaroli arched his back and leaned away out of instinct, rough giggles bubbling from his chest. "Ohohozziihihie!" He giggled, turning his head to hide his face in his lover's fluff. Oz simply followed him, tickling side to side over his tummy, how he knew Fizz liked it, even if he'd never admit it. He paid attention to his little gremlin.

Fizz arched and squirmed and curled up, but never truly made an effort to get away or ask him to stop. He'd let out half hearted 'nooo's and 'please' but never did he communicate that he wanted it to stop yet. "Ohohozzie, nohoho!" He squealed as Ozzie pinched at his lower sides, just above his hips, which made him curl up, and giggle much harder, gently swatting at his hands.

Ozzie brought Fizz up higher and nuzzled into his tummy, something he knew drove Fizz up the wall. Fizz immediately started to push against the rooster's head, kicking his legs out (careful not to actually hit Oz), while he giggled so hard, his sides would ache later. His tail went wild, waving from side to side. "Ohohoz, nohohoho, ihit tihihihickles!" Oz chuckled into Fizz' tummy, which only made it worse. "It tickles? Well that is kind of the point, Fizzy." Fizz shook his head, causing the bells on his hat to jingle. "Ihihit tihickles bahahad!" "And yet you haven't told me to-" "Stohop!"

Instantly, Ozzie stopped, and held Fizz close. He gave him enough time and space to breathe, and once he knew he was fine, Oz pressed their heads together again. "Feeling better?" He asked. Fizz let out another giggle, "Yeah.. I am." he said, stretching his arms around the bigger demon.

"Good, that's all that matters to me right now." Ozzie replied, laying down with Fizz on his chest. The former clown was quick to fall asleep, tired and feeling loved, and Oz was close behind.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #helluva/boss

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itachislbeloved · 10 days

Text

How Dare You?

A/n: I'm working on something currently and it's taking a bit of time since it's a bit long and I don't know by when will I complete it so I thought why not to post something short.🤭

Warnings⚠️: Hair pulling, choking, slapping, slight angst, Yandere boyfriend, obsessed bf, mentions of violence (towards reader and others) and maybe more but I don't remember so pardon me for that :3

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You were sitting on the bed on your shared bedroom with your boyfriend. He was standing facing the mirror while taking off his nicely tailored coat. You looked at him in disbelief and stood up from your bed meanwhile he continued to loosen his tie around his neck.

"Why the hell would you do that? You just made a show of me there!!" You said as your frustration got the best of you. He didn't face you as he heard you speak so you took some steps towards him but stopped at a distance from him.

"I'm talking to you! You need to face me when I'm talking to you." You said in an angry voice and this time he looked over to you from his shoulder and turned his body completely towards you. He was done with removing his tie and was now opening the button of his full shirt and folding the sleeves of his right hand.

"What is it that you're so angry about?" He asked in a monotonous tone while looking at you with his chocolate brown eyes, your black eyes stared in his chocolate brown ones and you could feel your anger taking the best of you, "Yeah? Now you act like an unknown person? You don't know what you did back there?"

"Look, I don't think I did anything wrong back there. I don't know why you're making a big fuss about it." He said plainly and calmly while you were losing your patience, by now he was done with folding the sleeves of both of his hands and he now looked up at you, intensely.

"You didn't do anything wrong back there?!! Do you even realise what are you saying? You went with me to one of my friend's party and you beat the shit out of her boyfriend just because he asked me for a dance? You know he's like a brother to me and we have no romantic feelings for each other!!" You said in anger as you saw him take steps towards you. Soon he stood in front of you, those chocolate brown eyes are now a darker shade of brown but you were too agitated to notice that.

"Yeah I did that, so what? I don't trust him. Even if he's like a brother to you, I don't like him lurking around you. I don't like the way he looks at you!" He said in a slightly deep voice while looking intensely at you. You noticed the change in his tone and knew the meaning of it but you were too agitated to realise it.

"Look I don't care what you think, ok? All I care about is you and how only I am allowed to touch you, yeah?" He said as he brought his right hand up on your cheek but you pushed his hand away, "Yeah? You think I'm your possession that you can keep only to yourself?" You asked him and pushed him back by hitting on his chest and in the best of the moment, you slapped his left cheek. It didn't have much of an impact on him but surely his ego was wounded.

He looked up in your eyes which after slapping him has realised the grave mistake that you have made with his anger filled one. He clenched his jaw in anger and stepped towards you. You were scared for your dear life knowing that his anger is nothing to joke with. His eyes were staring intensely into yours and you gulped seeing his gaze.

He brought his hand up, his fingers wrapping around your throat. You realised the situation, seeing his face close to yours. "How dare you slap me? Do you even know, right now I can break your hands and no one would be here to save you from me. I did all that for you and here you are, acting like an ungrateful brat. Oh how so badly I've wished to kill him so many times and trust me, sweetheart, if he doesn't stop with his little tricks then one day I'm going to kill him for sure."

You were unable to process his words. You knew slapping him was not the right thing but his actions were making you lose your mind. You knew it was a grave mistake of slapping him. You knew you were in danger right now because his anger is nothing to joke with and you've learnt it the hard way.

"Also, I don't think you're my little possession, but I know this for a fact that you are my little possession that I can keep only to myself. So, the sooner you get this into that little dumb head of yours, things would be easier for you." You heard him say and gulped while his hands were still around your throat.

You were losing your mind by now, his words and actions and your actions were making you go all mad. His grip on your throat was making your head go all fuzzy. His other hand travelled up to your hairs and he gripped them in a tight grip. His hold on your hair was making your scalp burn.

You brought your hand up on his hand which held your hairs and gripped it in order to pry them over from your hairs. "Ahh...you're...hurting me, leave me." You moaned in pain as his grip tightened more. "Yeah? You're acting all hurt now? Never thought how hurt would I feel seeing you dance with someone else apart from me, seeing you close with someone apart from me?"

He asked in a dark voice as he brought his face closer to yours and licked the tears that escaped your eyes. You wanted to push him away but you were unable to do so. You were trapped. You couldn't do anything for yourself. "I..I'm sorry."

You said hoping he'd leave you and let go of your hairs and your throat. "Yeah? Now you're sorry? After doing all that shit you are sorry? He asked and leaned in more in you and brought his lips closer to your ear, "Sometimes, I wish to beat the shit out of you too so that way maybe you can know how much I care for you because surely by my sweet and simple ways you cannot understand, right?"

He whispered that in your ear and you gasped as you heard him, more tears escaped your eyes and you could feel your heartbeat getting faster. You could feel your heart drop down in your stomach. His words made you want to run away from him and hide somewhere far from him.

"No..no I'm so-sorry." You said hoping he will take your words and he chuckled darkly as he heard you. His chuckle made you want to run far away from him but you had no such opportunity. He brought his face back to face you and you could see his dark eyes and his sinister smile on his face.

"Don't worry, sweetcheeks, I won't do that, I won't hurt you but trust me, if it would require me to hurt you to make you understand my love for you then I will gladly do it, get it? Now say that you're sorry for your actions." He said as he let go of your hair and your throat. You coughed and wiped your tears but fresh tears continued to flow down your eyes.

"I..I'm so-sorry for my-my actions." You said as you wanted all of this to be over and wanted to rest as it was all getting too much for you to comprehend. He smiled and hugged your petite form and kissed your forehead, "It's okay, sweetheart, I forgive you." He said as he hugged you tightly and you cried in his arms. You never knew how dangerous could he be but you realised better not to mess with his anger.

---------------------------------------------------

A/n: This is too bad. I didn't expect it to turn this way out but I sucked at this one and I'll try to write a better one the next time but for now I'm sorry for this oneeee😭😭

#yandere x y/n #dark yandere #yandere x you #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x female reader #yandere x female #yandere bf #female reader #dark fic #obsessed #yandere fic #yandere obsession

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chuthulhu-reads · 11 months

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[ID: A page from Trigun Maximum. In the top panel, Vash has his arms outstretched to hold his gun. His right arm, sleeve and all, is distorting and cracking as part of it twists and extends up into a branch that has curled around and caught a bullet in mid-air. Little feathers, like the beginnings of wings, are extending from some of the cracks. Vash is wide-eyed, frantic-looking. The bottom panel shows a closer up image of Vash's face and upper arm, showing that the branch has caught the bullet just inches from his right eye. The bullet is still turning and giving off smoke as it expends its momentum, the thin branch evidently extremely strong to hold it. End ID.]

Not that I don't love a good wingfic/wingart but I think we've got some REAL wasted potential in leaving out how much Vash's extensions are both feathered and resembling leaves, bark and branches. And evidently capable of not just warping his body but the fabric of anything he's wearing. The first time I read this I thought this might have been as much of a surprise to him as it is to the reader--that he's so off his game today that he has a closer call than he has before and reacts with an instinct he didn't know he had. My current read, based on a panel below, is that he did know he could do this, but usually does his damndest not to. He is off his game, not fully in control of his reactions, so he slips and does something he normally avoids at all costs, possibly because he knows what the reaction will be...

[ID: three panels from Trigun Maximum. In the first, Meryl is collapsing, clutching her head in both hands, her mouth open and eyes wide in terror. Milly is throwing her arms around Meryl with a frantic expression, yelling "Ma'am! What's wrong, Meryl?! Hang on!" The second panel is a flashback to Vash's partial angel transformation, focused on the inhuman scream on his face and his right arm transforming into the Angel Arm weapon. The whole panel is overlaid with a staticky filter that makes this dark and chaotic. The third panel is a close-up of Meryl's terrified expression, in a photo-negative style so that her skin is dark and her hair is light. End ID.]

PTSD is a BITCH. Meryl seems to be holding it together after Ryutsu Citadel--she often comes off as the kind of woman who prides herself on being level-headed and keeping her shit together in chaotic situations--but this unanticipated transformation triggers a whole-ass flashback and that throws her into a level of terror we've never seen her experience before, not even when she was actually kidnapped, because that's how PTSD be. All that terror that she would have felt at the time had she not been full of adrenaline and anger and panic, unloading out of nowhere when there's nothing else to interrupt it. I'm glad Milly is there, she seems like she gives good hugs, but GOD this hurts to see--especially since it generates more grief and guilt for Meryl because of how her reaction drives Vash away. She's vibing with Wolfwood on the "this guy is terrifying but he's also the best person I've ever met and I can't help being in love with him" but she's had WAY less time to process knowing what Vash is...

[ID: Four panels from Trigun Maximum. In the first, Vash looks angry and frustrated, his teeth gritted as he looks down, panting, "Sh-shit!" The second panel shows some random generic townspeople looking on with wide-eyed, startled expressions. The third panel has reduced those same townspeople into pitch-black silhouettes, with only their eyes and mouths visible as blank white lines as they say, "Did you see that?", "He's a monster", and "He really does have the power of the devil." The fourth panel shows Meryl, her arms cradling her head and mostly covering her expression, but one eye is visible, wide and crying. She's visibly trembling. End ID.]

With so much Christianity about it's not surprising that some people jump to "he's a witch!" but still, OUCH. Vash's frustrated expression here is what makes me think that maybe he did know he could do this--he has, after all, seen Knives create his blades from his arm--but he really, really, REALLY does not want to and usually avoids it at all costs. He's just that far off-kilter to begin with and accidentally doing this does not help. I have to wonder if he's ever done this before and gotten the "burn the witch!" reaction before... that REALLY wouldn't help his fear/lack of knowledge about his own body as an independent plant if he never actually explored what he can do because he wants so badly to be perceived as human/pass socially among humans. And if showing his non-humanity so deeply terrifies not just strangers but even someone he was getting quite close to like Meryl, why wouldn't he hate and fear himself?

#Trigun #Start your projectors folks #I'm having feelings about being visibly disabled in public myself #Meryl's PTSD is no joke but you just KNOW that Vash can't really untangle her fear from the Ryutsu Citadel shit #from the crowd reaction to him being Visibly Not Human #He feels inherently unfit to be around humans when he doesn't Look Normal Enough #Though in his case it's not just how he looks #These powers that he doesn't understand DID destroy a city and DID kill people #He knows people have a good reason to fear and hate him #God dammit both of these people deserve and need full-body Milly hugs but there's only one of her

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tkaulitzlvr · 8 months

Text

IF YOU WALK AWAY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom has finally brought you to your breaking point, but once he makes a proposition that changes your relationship forever, will you be able to go through with leaving him?

content: angst

a/n: i hope you enjoy!!

"why can't you just listen to me tom, for once? i don't like them flirting with you, and i certainly don't like you fucking entertaining it, whilst i'm right next to you!" i shout across the room, palms flush against the counter, my breathing heavy as i become more and more frustrated.

this argument had been going on for at least a half hour now. tom had been doing an interview with tokio hotel, and as usual i came along, watching from the sidelines. each interview comes with signing the autographs of crazy fangirls, which i always dreaded. it wasn't tom that i didn't trust - it was them. but today, i came to the realisation that my doubts should’ve been placed on him way sooner. the way he had his hand on her shoulder, then flirted back with another girl, then had his eyes glued to another's cleavage, made me feel completely invisible. but, much to my surprise, he couldn't seem to understand where my anger was coming from, leading us to this point.

"they are my fans! what do you want me to do? you're acting like i'm cheating on you!" he shoots back, shaking his head and sighing heavily.

my mouth drops open at his cluelessness. "you can't be serious tom. i want you to have some respect for your girlfriend! is that so much to ask? and honestly, it wouldn't fucking surprise me if you had slept with someone else.” i fire back.

he pauses, a look of hurt washing over his face as he processes the allegation i have just made. "you really think that i'd cheat on you? do you not trust me at all?" he asks, clenching his jaw. whilst that was a strong accusation to make, the things i saw today made the thought no longer seem so crazy.

"what else am i supposed to think? the way you look at them, basically eye-fucking them, whilst i stand next to you. do you know how humiliating that is for me tom? do you have any fucking idea?"

"can you stop overreacting jesus christ?" he raises his voice, throwing his arms into the air. "i don't know how many fucking times we will go through this, i'm with you not them. why do you let the smallest fucking things bother you? i'm tired of having this conversation with you when you blow literally everything way out of proportion."

“you really don’t get it, do you?” i scoff, clenching my jaw as any patience i had is now lost.

“if i had given you a reason to act like this then yeah, i would! but you’re acting out over me interacting with fans! do you realise how ridiculous you sound?” he responds, moving closer towards me, testing the waters as to whether i will blow up further at him attempting to near our proximity, or allow him to touch me.

“so flirting with other girls is just a daily interaction, huh? something you do so nonchalantly it doesn’t even cross your fucking mind, until i call you out and you act like i’m some crazy, controlling girlfriend who can’t handle you speaking to other girls? i won’t have you turn this shit around on me tom, you’re the one that’s fucked up here!” i yell, pointing at his chest and hitting it slightly, my breathing heavy as i anticipate his response.

he sighs, accepting the small hit and looking into my eyes, his still angry, but he doesn’t fire back. instead, he takes a deep breath before sternly speaking, his voice harsh yet composed. “look, can you just calm down? i need to cool off, we can talk about this when you’ve stopped acting so irrational.” he slowly replies, turning around and beginning to walk towards the couch.

"irrational? fuck you tom. you know what, if you want to flirt with them, i'm not gonna stop you. i'm not gonna fight for you anymore. go ahead and sleep with them. do whatever, i'm done." i shout, walking to our shared bedroom and angrily grabbing a suitcase before he can respond, throwing my clothes in there, his footsteps soon following.

"what? no, are you crazy? baby stop, you're not thinking straight. i'm sorry okay?" he pleads, placing his hand on my shoulder and attempting to pull me into a hug.

"get off of me!" i say, tearing myself out of his grasp and continuing to pack everything i can find into my suitcase. whilst i would love to accept his embrace, melting into it as i usually would after an argument, i can't this time.

"stop, please. can we just...talk about this? don't leave me, i love you-"

"no you don't tom! if you loved me, you wouldn't flirt with people right in front of me, and you'd understand when i confront you about it! look just, don't make this any harder than it has to be." i interrupt, my voice trailing off as tears begin to cloud my vision, threatening to spill out at any second. i zip up the suitcase, biting my tongue to stop my emotions getting the better of me, and turn towards the door.

"fuck- can you just... slow down, please? i can't lose you my love. i won't be anything without you." his voice is becoming shaky now as he stands in front of the doorway of our bedroom, blocking my way.

"tom move. it's over." i say bluntly, tears rolling down my cheeks as i tightly clutch the suitcase.

"no! no. i'm not giving up on us." he shakes his head, not moving and instead staring into my eyes pleadingly, searching for any hint that i am changing my mind.

"you're making this so much more difficult." i whisper, unable to control the tears as they roll down my cheeks, dripping onto the floor.

"what because i want to fix this? why are you giving up so easily, you know that we can move past this, but you're not even gonna fucking try? this is such bullshit and you know it." he replies, his voice wavering. he is becoming angry, losing his ability to talk calmly as 2 adults would, his hopeless begging now turning into bursts of unanticipated rage.

“you didn’t care this much 5 minutes ago. why now? just get out of my way.” i demand, becoming tired of his desperate pleas to stop me. my mind is made, and though i wish things were different, i know that i can’t let him win.

shaking my head, i manage to push past him, bolting for the door. my hand hesitantly reaches the handle, about to turn it, before his voice stops me in my tracks.

"if you walk out that door," he begins, as i turn to face him. his eyes are glossy, eyebrows furrowed. he pauses, almost debating on speaking his mind. he takes a deep breath, before continuing. "then i don't want to see you again."

my stomach turns, feeling as if i have been punched in the gut, because those words have the same impact. my mouth opens to say something, but i cannot find the right words. instead, i stand there stunned, my hand still fixed on the door handle. tom looks at me in a way that i have never seen before, his lips pursed together as he blinks slowly, tears falling down his soft skin once he reopens his eyes.

"you don't mean that." i reply, my voice coming out as a whisper. i hope that he is bluffing, that he is saying those words just to get me to stay, somewhere in my mind convincing me that he would never leave me - for good. however the way his gaze refuses to falter, his beautiful eyes staring into mine, tells me that he is telling the truth.

"if you leave, then i can't see you again." he re-iterates, his voice breaking. his mind is working against his heart, he knows that he cannot live without me, but is willing to say literally anything to make me stay, no matter how irrational.

"fuck." i mutter, moving my hand away from the handle and instead roughly slamming it against the door. my eyes squeeze shut, lips quivering as i shake my head, sliding down the door until my body collapses there, sobbing as i cannot bring myself to leave, no matter how hard i try. the idea of never seeing him again makes my heart ache, the possibility of it becoming a reality terrifying me so much that i cannot even think of walking away anymore.

"why do i have to love you so much? it makes this shit so much harder." i ask, looking upwards as my eyes meet with his. i am angry, confused, sad, every emotion courses through my mind, but most of all, i am in love. it is the thing that makes me act so crazy, that makes me lose all my morals. but i would lose everything all over again if it meant that i could be with tom.

his face softens as he slowly approaches me, sitting down beside me and grabbing my face in his hands, holding it so gently as if it could break. slowly, he begins kissing the tears from my face, one by one, not letting anymore fall as his lips touch my cheeks repeatedly, replacing the bitterness with his warm kiss, until they are no longer falling.

"i love you." is all he says, caressing my cheek with his thumb, staring into my eyes lovingly, his still bloodshot from the tears he shed.

"my heart hurts." i begin, placing my hands over his. "but i'll never be able to stop it from loving you."

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #angst #bill kaulitz #tokiohotel #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz smut

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smolmakerel · 9 months

Text

"Do you sit down in the shower, Tara?"

Tara blinked in surprised before narrowing her eyes. "What?"

Her new therapist, Abby Turner, was staring at her with a relaxed expression of genuine curiosity. She didn't really look the part of a therapist, sitting there in a yellow cardigan that matched the socks with SpongeBob on them. If anything, she looked a lot like a teacher Tara had in second grade minus the thick rimmed glasses.

"Do you sit down whenever you take a shower?" Abby asked again, shifting to cross her legs. She drew her fingernail over the metal clip of her clipboard.

Still, Tara was taken aback by such a question. She felt oddly seen through.

"Why?" Tara shot back instead.

Abby laughed softly. "There's no need to be defensive. I was going over our notes from last time and thought about what you said."

What she said? What did Tara say, exactly?

"I don't remember saying anything bad," mumbled Tara.

"No, nothing bad. I'm sorry if I made you panic."

At that, Tara hardened her gaze and looked away. Leave it to the therapist to know when her thoughts were spiraling out of control. God, Tara only had 7 sessions with her, and Abby thought she knew everything about Tara.

"It's ok if you do," Abby went on to say. Tara's face soured, and Abby unfortunately caught that. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Another one?" Tara tried to joke, but Abby saw through her facade. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were trying to play 20 questions."

She chuckled awkwardly. "Why do you sit down in the shower?"

"Because... I uh..."

"Take your time."

Tara was at a loss for words. Why did she sit down in the shower? She never really noticed she did it until Abby sent her back with homework to figure out things she noticed about her dailey routine. Which included an hour long shower; Tara would be sitting in the tub allowing the hot water to hit her back. While she sat, tremors would rack her body and her irritation would rise.

"I get in the shower in the morning," Tara explained slowly, still processing her thoughts. "Before class so no one has to see me all... icky."

"And do you think there might be another reason for sitting down?" Abby inquired. "I only ask because of your water bottle comment."

Tara looked unsure at that. She brought her hands to her lap to fidget with her nails. The comfortable gray armchair she sat on never felt more uncomfortable under the watchful eye of her therapist.

"S-Sorry, but I don't remember talking about that."

"That's ok," her therapist assured her. "Last time, you talked about how you needed to clean your room. You have a lot of water bottles on your table and floor, clothes in your bed."

Recognition flashed in Tara's eyes. "Right. Sorry."

"Depression and anxiety after a traumatic event is completely normal, Tara. In fact, I would be surprised if you didn't have one of those with what you've been through."

Tara shrugged. "It's nothing. Other people have been through more than me; I'm just being selfish."

Selfish. She had always been selfish; even her own mother thought so, and she made sure to remind Tara anytime she was in town.

Abby wrote something down, nodding to herself as if all of Tara's issues were understandable now.

"I sit on the floor," Tara suddenly said in the uncomfortable silence. She didn't look at her therapist at all, ashamed. "I get so... tired sometimes. And it isn't because of the metal in my leg! It's me! I wake up tired, go through the day angry because of how tired I am, and go to sleep tired. But then I can't sleep and I just..." She huffed in frustration, nails dug into her palms. "I don't know what to do."

Abby leaned back in her chair and flipped her clipboard over on her lap. Her eyes watched Tara's face closely.

"Is there anything you have that could help you sleep?" Abby asked. "A stuffed animal, a nightlight...?"

Tara's mind immediately drifted to her older sister. Sam was strong enough to keep Tara's night terrors away, yet she's soft enough to wrap Tara in her arms and calm her down. No matter how much Tara yells and sobs in her sleep, no matter the bloody scratch marks on her arms, no matter how Tara dissociates to protect herself. Sam was always there.

"No," Tara claimed instead.

Abby cocked her head. "And your sister isn't willing to help you?"

Tara shook her head. "No, she is but... I don't want to bother her with my problems."

Abby flipped her clipboard back over and wrote something down. Tara wanted to chuck the damn thing out the window. She lowered the clipboard again.

"Based on what you've told me about your sister, she sounds like just the person you need at night," Abby pointed out with a soft smile. "I'm sure she'd be willing to help if you asked."

'But I can't!' The words burn acid on Tara's tongue.

"Ok."

Fuck.

[♡♡♡]

Tara raised her hand at Sam's door and drew it into a fist. It hovered in the air for a long few seconds.

Then she knocked.

The door opened not even a second later, and Sam was standing there rubbing her eyes.

"Tara?" Sam mumbled. She instantly woke up, eyes darting over Tara looking for some sort of injury. "Are you ok? What are you doing up right now?"

"Can... Can I sleep in here with you?" Tara asked and before Sam could respond, she was babbling. "I'm sorry if I woke you up with this. Fuck, I'm so stupid. This was a mistake, I didn't mean to wake you up with my stupid problems. I-I'll go back to my room. Sorry -"

"Tara."

Tara's breathing hitched when Sam gently cupped her face, and - Oh. That was actually kind of nice. She sank into the warmth of Sam's palms.

"Let's go to bed, ok?" Sam whispered.

Tara nodded, throat thick with emotion. "Ok."

It was about 20 minutes later when they were settled in Sam's bed. Tara was dozing off finally, face buried into Sam's chest as her arms wrapped around her.

She stirred slightly when Sam kissed the top of her head. Her fingers tucked a few strands of hair out of Tara's face.

"I love you, Tara," Sam muttered.

Tara, too exhausted to say anything, simply turned her head and kissed Sam on the palm. She settled back down and relaxed into a peaceful sleep.

#scream #scream 2022 #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #I was tempted to make the therapist bad but then I thought of my therapist and how nice she is and thought “better not”#They're so soft for each other #I'm still figuring out how to write them tbh #So enjoy while I'm working on breaking your hearts in my next post #Tara learning how to ask for help after everything #She trusts Sam but doesn't trust herself #And it's all because of Christina fucking Carpenter #Fuck Christina Carpenter #My writing

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the-secret-keeper · 1 year

Text

This just sort of came to me. Enjoy, I guess.

gn!reader x Barbatos

obey me x twisted wonderland

It sucks but it's here. Enjoy!

TW:

Talk of malnutrition, extortion, major leg injury (though not described graphically), angry demon boyfriend

(Reader is referred to as mc)

"You're going to be late, and if you're late you can't buy me more tuna!" Grimm whined.

I laughed lightly, before glancing back down at my phone. I gently smiled at the picture, before shaking my head and putting it away. Quickly getting up and stuffing everything I needed into my bag, I raced down the stairs.

"Finally." Grimm rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Good luck at your meeting!" The ghosts called from their various positions in the house.

"And don't forget-"

"The tuna, I know."

I nodded at my own words, beginning to take a step forward when I was overcome with a strange sensation. A sensation I had not felt since I came to this place. It was so sudden and extreme that I stepped on the wrong board, causing my left leg to go through it.

The scream that almost erupted from me got caught in my throat, but that didn't stop the stinging tears forming in my eyes. The reason for them, I wasn't sure. The pain from my injury, or hope from this new feeling.

I didn't register what was happening around me, unable to process everything going on. But I gathered what happened before I was lifted out of my trap.

Grimm panicked, knowing the ghosts couldn't help, and he couldn't do much. So, he went off to find someone else. It didn't take long, I don't think, as it isn't unusual for the first years to hang around my dorm even when I'm not there.

It was Jack and Sebek who hoisted me out of the hole. Ace and Deuce were arguing over the best thing to do.

"-here." I mumbled, finally deciding they were tears of happiness, just as they began to leak down my cheeks.

"What?" Jack asked. I stood up, ignoring the fact that I shouldn't be moving my leg, and without the adrenaline I wouldn't be able to.

"What do you think you're-" I didn't let Sebek finish his loud, scolding rant.

"He's here!"

Running out the door and through the mirror, I didn't even realize I had forgotten my bag. Filled with all the documents Crowley had so graciously asked me to do. It didn't matter though.

Because he was here.

And that meant that I would be ok no matter what. He would make sure of that.

There was blood trailing behind me as I sprint-limped through the halls. I was out of breath, and no doubt making my already severe injury worse. I didn't even wait to let them take the splinters and possible nails out.

Although, I must commend the other students. They could tell I was on a mission, and stayed out of my way. Whether that be because they didn't want blood on their uniform, or they were scared of what I would do, I'm not sure. I don't care.

The door flung open before I could register that it was me who had opened it. My eyes frantically scanned the room, wanting, hoping, that he would be here.

My eyes landed on him.

"Barbs," I softly spoke, leaning on the door for support, "you're here!"

"My love." He rose from his seat, also in shock.

"I," I stepped forward, using my good leg. "I was so scared!" I finally let the dam break as I collapsed, knowing he'd catch me before I hit the ground. "I was so scared, Barbs! I didn't know where I was or how to get back." I sobbed into his chest.

"Hush, my love, it will all be alright now." I clutched onto his shirt for dear life, as he ran his gloved fingers through my hair.

More than anything, I remember my cries echoing, as if it was just the two of us. I couldn't expect anything less. Barbatos is the only one I have ever trusted to allow my facade to break in front of. Though we have an audience now, it changes nothing.

I have never felt more safe than when in his arms.

"MC, please remove yourself from our guest and compose yourself."

"I hate you!" I screamed, causing Crowley to shut up, and everyone to look at me in shock. Well, more shock than before. "I can't take it anymore! Living in that building, dealing with Overblots, doing your job for you! I haven't eaten in three days because you cut my food budget for being unable to complete an impossible task!"

Though not directed at me, I could feel the death stare of my lover. His hold on me tightened, though it remained reassuring, and he never stopped toying with my hair. He was angry. But his main focus was me.

"Come, come now MC. I've been tru-truly generous. Letting you stay on campus. For, for free!"

"Are you saying their accusations are false?" I heard Diavolo ask. "That they're lying?"

"Well, n-no."

"Then you're agreeing that what you've been doing is inhumane?" Lucifer prodded.

"That's not at all what I meant!"

"I agree with our guests." Riddle spoke up. "Dire Crowley, this has gone on for far too long. Abusing your position to extort a student. Into doing your work no less when they have nowhere else to go."

"I agree. Though I had no idea it was to this extent, MC has done nothing but amazing feats for your school. The only reason this place isn't overrun by Overblots and is still functioning is because of them." Azul piped in.

"Show me their living quarters." I heard Mammon demand quietly.

And then I knew that shit was about to go down. My boyfriend is protective, and should he see fit, he would act without permission but it's rare. Mammon? Mammon doesn't want or need permission from anyone. The only way to stop Mammon at this point in time from tearing Crowley limb from limb is to have Diavolo or Lucifer intervene. But I doubt that would happen.

"I beg your pardon?" Crowley stammered.

"Perhaps you misheard me, Bird Brain. Show me where they've been living since they've come here."

"What will that prove?" He tried to distract. "Surely you'd rather have the announcement of your arrival commence first. Let's tell the students!"

"I'll show you." I had calmed, moving slightly back from Barbatos's chest. "I'll show you everything." I promised, a bitter and malicious glint in my eye that caused everyone from NRC to flinch. "But I must be carried. I have been, injured."

"Oh, allow me to take care of,"

"Dire Crowley." I said sternly, glaring at him. He froze, practically shaking in his old man shoes. "If you touch me I will command Satan and Belphegor to go berserk on you. No. Command isn't the right word. I will allow them."

"You, don't,"

"Have the gall? Or is authority the word you were looking for." Barbatos helped me to my feet. "I think you misunderstand your current position, Crowley. I have no reason to fear you anymore. Because anything you will try to do to me from this moment forward? Will only result in your death."

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