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r0b1ns · 1 year

Note

Can you please write more stuff for Jack russell. There is not enough about him. But if you dont mind can you write dom amab reader and sub Jack russell. And with Jack being praised and possibly edged.

Note: sorry it took so long, I'm really not that great at writing anything other than headcanons, but I really hope you like it, also I'll say it again, English is not my native language sorry if there are any mistakes

DAY IN

JACK RUSSELL (MARVEL) X MALE READER

Plot: see request above

CW: n/sfw, smut, unprotected sex, AMAB reader

WORD COUNT: 1.4k+

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You sat on the sofa, jack resting his head on your legs, watching some shitty movie. You didn't have much to do, everything in the house was clean, you were all done with work, and jack wasn't in the mood to go out.

"This is boring" you said stroking his hair

"It is" his said with closed eyes, enjoying the head rubs.

You sat like this for another minute before you decided to do something "fun", slowly stroking down his face, feeling his freshly shaved face and warm breath on your fingers.

You reached his throat, his pulse quickening, Squeezing a little and continuing down to his collarbones and chest. He started breathing faster, shifting in your lap

"What are you doing hermoso?" He said nervously

"Shh" you shushed him sliding your hand to his nipples and playing with them.

You felt them slowly hardening and jack making small and quiet grunts, finally making him moan when you rolled one in between your fingers.

Taking the hand out of his shirt, you lifted it up and helped him get it off, sliding your fingers down his stomach to his happy trail, going past the waist band into his boxers.

He was already half hard, thanks to the werewolf horneinnes, so you started stroking him slowly, using the pre cum as a lubricant. He whined like a puppy and started bucking his hips up, trying to make you go faster, but just as he started getting harder you took your hand out making him pout in frustration.

"Up" you commanded and he stood up in a second "strip"

His pupils dilated and cock jumped in his underwear, oh how he loves when you tell him what to do.

He slowly pilled his clothes off until he was standing in front of you all naked, cock fully hard and red, leaking with pre cum.

"Come here" he climbed on top of you, wrapping his legs around yours and hands around your neck.

You kissed him slowly, savoring the bitter taste of coffee on his lips, swallowing every little sound he makes. He pressed closer to you, trying to touch as much of you as possible, grinding his sensitive cock on the rough fabric of your pants.

He looked angelic, so desperate, cheeks flushed with a bright red color, heavily penting and gripping your shoulders for dear life.

"Ok you can continue" you gave permission to unzip your pants, he did with trembling hands eagerly taking you in his hand and rubbing your cocks together. You let out a sigh, marking his mascular thighs with your fingernails.

You decided it was enough and flipped jack on his back, taking off your clothes completely.

"Lube?"

"No, no please, I need you now-"

"I don't wanna hurt you, be patient and wait a minute " you packed his soft lips and got up to take the lube from your shared room, taking your time on the way back. Don't get the wrong idea, you did want to fuck Jack's brains out, but you also wanted to see his desperate face, begging you to touch him.

When you came back down you saw him touching himself.

"What do you think you're doing"

Not giving him time to answer you took his wrists and pinned them above his head.

"Naughty boy, now I gotta wait before fucking you."

He cried out begging you to go inside him, but you didn't give in.

You took off your clothes, putting his legs on your shoulders and and hugging him closer to you.

Bending down you placed wet kisses on his inner thighs, sucking and biting the tender skin. You left marks everywhere, his thighs, ass, and carefully licking his entrance. You looked up to jack gripping his hair with one hand and his knee with the other. His mouth opened soundlessly eyes rolling back.

Continuing licking the pink ring and going in with your tongue.

"Ah please, please amor, i- I need you"

You smiled at his begging and the nickname, you lived when he spoke Spanish to you, he always called you hermoso, amor or Cielito. Sometimes jokingly referring to you as papi chulo.

Just the use of the word made you softer "patience" you told him, sucking on his balls and than his cock.

You licked around the big vein that popped on his length, going up and down, driving him insane. The salty taste on your tongue gave you shivers.

You went up and sucked on his tip, earning a loud moan from your boyfriend. Using teeth a little to torture him (he loved it) and sliding your tongue in his sensitive slit. He was already shaking, even you didn't even begin yet, as you planned. Going down deeper until you could feel his pubes, and the end of his length at the back of your throat choking you.

His little noises were heavenly, but you desperately wanted to make him loud, make him scream. You didn't care about the neighbors at that moment, the worst they could do is give you a dirty look.

You took your mouth off of him with a pop to take the bottle of lube in your hand and put some on your fingers. Rubbing them together to make it less cold you carefully circled around him and slowly inserted two if them in his pulsing hole. He let out a relieved sigh, taking everything he can get from you.

You moved your hand in and out adding fingers every few minutes. When you felt he was all ready and relaxed you took your hand out, making him cry in protest shortly followed by a loud moan when you slipped your hard cock in.

His toes curled and you swear he looked like he was about to pass out.

"Ay dios!" It's like he forgot the English vocabulary, his brain went blank.

You started slow, pumping into him with a steady rhythm, feeling him warm and tight around you.

You were going painfully slow, not wanting to give in to your lover's begging. His breathing was heavy, chest rising every second, tears falling down the sides of his face.

"You're doing so good" you reached up his face petting his hair in a comforting pace "you want me to touch you?" You whispered in his ear, leaning forward towards him.

"Yes, yes, por favor" he somehow managed to say those words without stuttering, tightening his legs around your waist, pushing you even deeper.

Softly kissing his lips you started sliding you hand down his body until you reached the lower stomach, where his red tip was laying and leaking all over.

"Alright, just because you've been a good boy today"' the nickname always made his body tingle, sending warmth down.

Wrapping your hand around him you started stroking him matching the pace of your own thrusts.

He couldn't keep quiet anymore, making the most beautiful sounds you like so much and bucking his hips up.

"Yes that's it, don't hold out on me" you started increaseing the speed of both your hand and pushes, feeling the familiar feeling down your stomach spreading to your legs.

Forcingly pushing yourself in, your couch started squeaking.

"Do you wanna cum?" Trying to catch your breath, not stopping for even a second.

"Sí, Sí, por favor, te lo ruego" god how you loved when he speaks Spanish, especially in times like this.

You sped up as much as you could, even though you legs hurt and you could barely breathe, but it was worth it when you so the expression on Jack's face; his mouth wide open, not making a sound, head tilt backwards and hand gripping your hand that holds up his legs.

He made a painted scream as he came all over your hand and his chest. The sight made you desperate to cum, continuing to fuck him throughout his orgasm, eventually spilling inside him , warmth spreading through him.

You let out a breath, slipping out and collapsing on top of him, you sweaty bodies connecting together and your boyfriend's cum smearing between the both of you.

"You know, we still need to clean you up" you spoke after minutes of silence, taking his face in your hand and turning him towards you kissing his swollen lips

His eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat.

You bent down to start you job.

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!GIF IS NOT MINE!

#x male reader #x masc reader #male!reader #marvel #jack russel x reader #jack russel x male reader #jack russell #werewolf by night #gael garcia bernal

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wardenannie · 1 year

Text

sapphicoflight TessJoel fic masterpost

I’ll be collecting all of my tessjoel fics here as I write them! So far I’ve written 4 (all smut) but I have a lot more in the works! Kudos/Comments save lives!

I will continue updating this post as I write more.

Swelter | Rated: Explicit | Link: X

Summary: Early on in their professional relationship Tess and Joel share a bottle of Jack Daniel's and pop a few pills. Some unpleasant truths come out, and they take comfort in one another; if only for a night.

Excerpt: A shadow comes creeping into his bright memories now, a coldness, like the chill, frosted fingers of winter creeping their way around the throat of a colorful autumn day. The memory of his baby’s death strikes him suddenly and hard, and abruptly the high is not so pleasant. He feels cold, disoriented. Sick to his stomach.

“Joel?” Tess senses his change in demeanor instantly.

“Fuck,” He rasps, slamming a balled fist down hard onto the table. “Fuck, Tess. I just want to forget. ”

Tags: one-shot, smut, drinking, drug use, hurt/comfort, pre tlou

Inseparable | Rated: Explicit | Link: X

Summary: Tess goes missing for a night and Joel realizes just how badly he needs her in his life.

Excerpt: A small, knowing smile pulled at the corner of her mouth, “Joel Miller, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were worried about me.”

His dark eyes widened, taken aback by her words. Of course he’d been worried. He was… they were… she was… ‘mine’ was the word he’d used when discussing her with Bill. What was he supposed to do without her? Drink himself to death?

Tags: smut, angst, shower sex, one-shot

this one’s ours | Rated: Explicit | Link: X

Summary: 1 good bottle of scotch - This one’s ours, Joel! - Joel and Tess get to share that bottle of scotch.

Excerpt: “Pour!” She commanded, enthused as she moved to turn on the radio. Low and droning with old world song. Joel opened the bottle, giving it a sniff before pouring a healthy amount of amber liquid into each glass.

“Strong stuff,” he commented, taking a seat. The line of his shoulders relaxed some now that he was locked away in their apartment with no plans for the coming days. They worked hard to survive. They deserved the opportunity to take it easy every now and again.

Tags: drinking, smut, hair pulling, pre tlou

Situation | Rated: Explicit | Link: X

Summary: Folks in the QZ have been making assumptions about Tess and Joel's situation. Joel finds himself frustrated by the gossip, Tess helps him relieve some of that frustration while reassuring him of their partnership.

Excerpt: And that was another aspect of their situation . They worked together, every day. Every job. Wherever Tess went Joel followed, and vice versa. There was no “mine” between them. Every scrap of contraband was “ours” until it left their hands or they consumed it themselves. They watched each other’s backs, they killed each other’s enemies. If one of them fucked up they both took the fall with only minimal complaining. They were a motherfucking team . And everyone in the quarantine zone knew it. How could they deem something so vital, so primeval as a survival based partnership to be a situation ?

Tags: smut, pwp, drug mention

#tessjoel #joeltess #joel x tess #tess x joel #the last of us #my writing #tlou

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final-girl96 · 1 year

Text

Chapter Thirty-Seven

"You got me killed, yn. This is your fault!" Randy opened his mouth and black-red blood flowed out over his lips, down his chin and neck. His eyes had clouded over the once bright blue color was now a hazy white. His skin was a grayish tint, the same black-red blood oozed from the wounds that littered his body. I pulled my leg out of his grip, shuffled backwards, scrambling to my feet. The time I was up on my feet and turned around he was gone and so was the hallway I was in.

I was now standing in an empty yard. The only thing besides me was a tall oak tree with a swing with someone sitting there swinging back and forth. I walked closer to see they were looking down at the ground. "Hello?" The swinging stopped and their head lifted to look at me. I stepped back when I saw it was Casey. She was wearing the same thing she was that night, blue jeans and a white sweater. She looked the same She did when I first showed up. There were no signs of blood or her being hurt. She was her before they killed her. "Case?"

I started walking close and when I was maybe semi feet away she stood up. I came to an abrupt stop when her insides fell out of the open cavity of her abdomen. She was cut from groin to sternum. Her shirt was now soaked in blood. She looked up at me and opened her mouth. Just like Randy black-red blood poured from her lips. "It's your fault. You didn't help me!" I shook my head and backed away from her.

Hand grabbed a hold of my arms from behind. I looked over my shoulder to see Steve in a similar state as Casey. His insides spilling out from the gaping hole in his stomach. Duct tape was still wrapped around his wrist and ankles. He held me still as Casey approached me. Her movements were slow at first but then she was in my face in a blink of an eye.

She tilted her head as she looked at me, "it's all your fault. It should have been you!" Her hand shot out and grabbed a hold of my jaw. I scream ripped out of my throat. Then I was being shook by the shoulders and a faint voice was calling my name.

When Sidney came rushing into the room and up onto the bed to wrap her arms around me a sob wracked my body. "I saw them. I said Randy, Casey, and Steve! It's my fault…it's my fault they're dead!" Sidney held on to me tight, brushing my hair away from my face as she shushed me. "Shh… it's okay, you're okay. It wasn't real. It wasn't your fault, you did nothing," she said. I sobbed even harder, "exactly! I didn't do anything. If I would have…" She cut my rambling off vy pushing me away gently so she could look at me. "There was nothing you could have done. None of this is on you. It's on them."

Stu came back into the room, stopping at the doorway. "I got something for the pain and some of the peppermint tea you like." He slowly made his way to the bedside table and sat them down before he headed for the door again. "If you need anything just yell for me." With that he walked out, softly closing the door. Sidney picked up the pills and handed them to me before handing me the mug of hot tea. He was trying so hard but I didn't know how long that would last.

I was positive that as soon as I'm completely healed he'll go right back to how he was before. "We have to get out of here," I whispered to Sid. She looked at me and nodded. "I agree. But you're still really hurt." I sighed and took one of the pills. I did not want to fall that deep into sleep again. "I know but we have to leave, Sid. You even said we needed to leave and I know I said we needed to wait until I completely heal and all that bullshit but I can't." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

"I know Stu is trying to make things go back to the way they were before all this bullshit." I opened my eyes and looked at her. "But I know he's only doing that because I'm hurt. I wanted to just let myself believe he was changing and would keep being his old self after I'm healed … but I know he won't be. This nightmare was so fucked up, Sid. I've had nightmares before but not like this. This felt so fucking real."

I ran my hand through my hair, looking around the room and stopping at the door. A part of me said he was still out there, listening to us talk. Sidney looked at me then looked at the door. We looked at each other, understanding that we were thinking the same thing. "I'm sure everything will go back to the way it was before all of this." She stood up and quietly made her way over to the door, slowly sank to the floor and looked under the door. When she looked back up at me she nodded her head, "both," she mouthed and stood back up.

"I think the nightmare just freaked you out. We're safe here, nobody can get to you. Stu wouldn't let anyone or anything hurt you." She sat back on the bed and we looked at each other. We wanted them to hear all this. "I know. But Sid, it was so fucking real. Ray…Casey… they both– i don't know. You're right I'm just freaked out right now." I was freaked out and I wanted to fucking leave. "Are you up to going downstairs to eat?" She asked.

I looked at the clock to see it was six in the evening. "Jesus, how long did I sleep?" I asked. "Like four hours. You fell asleep downstairs and Stu carried you up here." She stood up and then helped me up. "Well, fuck, now I probably won't sleep tonight," I said. We walked over to the door and stopped, listening for a few minutes before opening the door. When Sid opened it the guys weren't there.

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andreilslovechild · 6 months

Text

What Makes Life Worth Living

tw for substance abuse, overdose, rehab, main character death, and twincest

When Andrew arrived to live with Tilda

he was the only sober person in that house

Tilda was constantly passed out

Aaron was constantly high

And Andrew just didn't get it

at least until the day Aaron held out some pills to him

in another universe, Andrew would have refused

told Aaron how dumb he was being

but this wasn't another universe

it was this one

and Andrew said yes

he took those pills

and many more after

he discovered that he loved the way being high made him feel

it made everything worth it

light and fuzzy

and very very nice

he finds he loves it

a lot

he and Aaron start to get high together a lot

everyday

and hes not sure how it happens

but one day they're kissing

and it's so much better than kissing sober

Andrew can't get enough

and neither can Aaron

so they keep doing it

until one day they're caught

Luther makes them go to rehab

and Aaron tries

he does

but Andrew doesn't

Andrew takes the colorful pills in secret

staying high even when he shouldn't be

this goes on for a while

until aaron begs him to stop

to try

and Andrew agrees

for aaron he'd try for real

and he does

he really does

but without the drugs making everything colorful and bright

the world is grey

dull

and so is Andrew

its torture

after seeing the world as he had it hurt to go back to before

because now he knew what he was missing

and it was a lot

the longer he tried the worse it got

and one day aaron came home from school

anxious to see Andrew who'd said he wasn't feeling well that day

only to find Andrew's body

and a note

the note read

"I'm sorry aaron. I couldn't do it anymore. The longer I went without the pills the worse the depression got. and I know I simply can't stay high for the rest of my life, so I cut it short. goodbye. I love you"

and aaron cried

#aftg #all for the game #alternate universe #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #andrew addicted to drugs #andrew dies from overdose #andrew and aaron make out while high #aaron getting sober #rehab #main character death

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jaxteller87 · 2 years

Text

butterfly part 5

“Damn it, Amber, just let me help you,” Jax hissed as we had a heated discussion in the living room.

“Jackson,” I hissed, “how many freaking times do I have to tell you, that this isn’t your fight to fight?”

“Oh for the love of…” Jax growled and stopped himself, as he shook his head. “Amber, you’re struggling and it’s killing me to see you hurt. I get it. It’s your battle, not mine, but for Pete’s sake, let me at least be there for you properly.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” I hissed with tears rolling down my face.

“I need a break,” Jax said resignedly before storming out of the house. On his way, he took his promise ring and threw it on the floor.

Him leaving only made the tears worse and uncontrollable. I hadn’t felt this way in a long time, just staring at the abandoned ring on the floor. I reached for the ring and could just grab it and I place it on the coffee table.

I laid down on the couch and closed my eyes. “Please,” I begged and whispered to myself, “Mary please help, I don’t know what to do.”

A few seconds later I was drifting off to sleep.

I walked into the kitchen where my best friend was making tea. I rubbed my eyes as I was sure I could see the outline of some angel wings under her shirt.

“Talk to me, my dear. What’s wrong?” She said as she sat down at the table with two cups of tea. “I don’t know how to explain it in a way that makes sense,” I sighed and sat down with her.

“Try,” she smiled as she took a sip of her tea. “Or I can start, is the medicine working?” She asked curiously.

I nodded and took a sip of my tea.

“That’s wonderful!” She exclaimed.

“And I don’t feel like a complete failure anymore,” I smiled too.

“Wonderful!” She said again as her smile grew.

“I know everything is over with and I made it out on the other side after I turned 30. After I figured out why I was depressed, I thought, alright, but what if it happens again some day?” I sighed, “and now I feel like I have given myself a loaded gun that might or might not go off.”

“You haven’t, Amber,” Mary took a sip of her tea, “I know it seems like it, but you didn’t just choose the easy way out, because you’re stronger than that. And I know that badass biker of yours got your back. He’d take those pills so fast out of your hands that both of our heads would spin.”

She chuckled and we both looked out the window in the sliding door. The air was filled with butterflies, bright blue and bright yellow ones.

“I know it can be annoying, but I think it’s a good thing that Jax watches you. I wish more people had someone like him in their lives.” We sat there in the quiet for a while just admiring the different colors of butterflies fluttering in the air.

“It’s almost time isn’t it?” I asked looking at my best friend.

“I’m afraid so,” she smiled and shrugged.

She pulled me in and gave me a tight hug like she always does. “I’m always walking beside you, always remember that,” she whispered.

“I will. I promise,” I smiled.

Jax’s point of view

I had stopped by Burgers and Sweets and the flower store to get flowers and a milkshake as an apology.

I carefully placed the things on the coffee table as I entered the house. I saw my ring on the table and carefully placed it back on my finger. I looked at Amber who was sleeping and mumbling something about butterflies, while her eyelids were fluttering.

I sat down on the edge of the table and after a few seconds Amber slowly opened her eyes. She looked at the things on the table and smiled lightly.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered.

I smiled and laid down next to her. I wrapped my arms around her as tightly as possible.

“I’m sorry,” I said and kissed her temple. She giggled.

“I know” she said.

I hugged her tightly for a few more seconds before we both sat up and grabbed a milkshake each.

“Mmm, peach,” she smiled, “thank you.”

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. "Did you have a good visit from Mary?” I asked curiously.

“I did,” Amber was inspecting the pink roses I had placed in a small vase. “I have been feeling like I had taken the easy way out by going on meds,” she said. “That’s why I’ve been struggling. I haven’t talked about it too much, but after the disaster of a mess that happened after I turned 30, I have been afraid that it might happen again one day. That everything could go bad again. My counselor agreed, I thought I had learned so much about my depression but turned out I knew nothing.”

“And you’re afraid that now you have the tools and it could happen again?” Amber nodded, “and Jax we have kids now. What if they find me if it happened?”

“Stop it,” I said firmly and grabbed her face between my hands. “You are stronger now, and I am here for you, if you ever got to that place again, I will help you get back on your feet and with the medicine.”

“I know,” she nodded, “and the medicine is still working, I don’t feel like a failure anymore.”

“Good,” my face lit up with a smile and I kissed her forehead, “because you’re far from a failure.”

We enjoyed the rest of our milkshakes while I tried to talk about something else and get Amber’s mind some rest from all the negative thoughts.

The next day, after the kids had been taken to daycare and school, I joined Amber on the patio. I had taken the day off from work, because I still felt bad about the way I had behaved yesterday.

“How long have you been sitting here?” I asked noticing the butterflies flying around and landing on the floorboards.

“For a while,” Amber smiled as she took my hand. The butterflies started to flutter around me as I sat down.

“I think she’s telling you hello,” Amber beamed. A blue butterfly flew over and landed on Amber’s lap causing her to giggle. “Well hello there little guy,” she chuckled. The butterflies landed on the table and took a well-deserved rest, and Amber and I sat there and enjoyed their company.

“Yesterday really proved to me that the meds are working. Even when you took off your ring and took off, I wasn’t thinking you were going to leave me. I know you were just mad,” Amber said softly.

“That’s good sweetheart. And that’s the part I’m most sorry for. I shouldn’t have done that,” I felt the sadness wash over me again.

“It’s okay, Jax,” she smiled and kissed the back of my hand.

“I love you, Amber.”

#jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #jax teller x disabled reader

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passerine-writes · 2 years

Text

Symbols - Chapter 22

Warnings: This whole chapter is angst with a fluffy end. So uh, let the grocery list of warnings begin! Mentions of nightmares, slight description is past abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of trauma, swearing and mentions of mental abuse Word count: 2089

Masterlist

Chapter 21 | Chapter 23

3rd Person POV

All boys shot awake at the sound of a scream, a certain blue eyed setter was alright awake from a specific girl tossing and turning beside him. He lulled her back to sleep after stirring half awake once or twice but none of them had seen her have a nightmare in a long time. The four boys were immediately on high alert, Bokuto and Akaashi had both seen this a few times when they were kids and in middle school, the girl would wake up screaming if she had a particularly bad nightmare. Kenma and Kuroo however, they only experienced this a time or two in middle school and it was never to this level. Kaara shot up hyperventilating, knuckles white as she gripped the fabric of the bedding.

The door swung open, a tired mama Mei standing there with a baseball bat, relaxing when she saw it was Kaara having a nightmare. She gave her son a look, the silent question of 'is she alright' to which he nodded and took a deep breath. All but Kenma could feel the waves of fear and anxiety rolling off of her. She leaned back but jumped when she felt a chest there, Akaashi's chest.

"Kou, can you turn on the lamp?" The smooth voice behind her asked. "Cover your eyes, it's gonna be bright." She nodded but didn't react, the memories were playing back in her head, flooding all her thoughts. She didn't react when the light came on, completely lighting up the large bedroom.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was weak and shaking, eyes filled to the brim with water.

"It's okay, bumble bee." She took an even shakier breath at the youngest boys words.

"I- I'm sorry." Her voice broke this time. "I didn't, I didn't mean to, I promise. I promise, I'm sorry." Everyone froze at her words, now knowing that it was not just a dream. This was a side of Kaara none of them had ever seen. She was begging for remorse, begging for mercy. Now the question remained. What was she begging for mercy from?

Kaara's POV

I sat as still as I could, everything in my mind set off my survival instincts. I knew they wouldn't hurt me, deep down I did, but it's like a switch had been flipped and I was back at my mothers all over again. My whole body tingled as I struggled to breathe, my face surely soaked judging by the blurry damp spot beneath my face on the sheets.

"Kaara." The softest voice in the room spoke, I hated this feeling of all eyes on me. "You have nothing to apologize for. Do you need your medication?" On instinct I nodded but tensed.

"Yes please." I tried to choke out and barely managed to. Next thing I saw was shins laying down in front of me. A bottle of water and a colorful capsule entered my field of vision. Slowly, I took them both and swallowed the pill. "Thank you." I whispered and we all waited for the meds to kick in, that way I would at least be a little more responsive and coherent.

We sat in silence for five minutes. Three minutes for the medication to work and the other two, nobody wanted to open the can of worms. For the last five minutes, I sat plagued by thoughts and memories. I had such a good day. Why couldn't these nightmares just leave me alone for one day?

"Bubbles, please talk to us. What happened?" I curled my knees to my chest at Tetsurou's words, as though my legs could put up an iron wall between us and his question would deflect off of it.

"Just a nightmare." I glanced up at the older Nekoma boy and regretted it. His hazel eyes stared into mine intently, he went to speak but froze with his mouth hanging open. Everyone looked behind me now, at Akaashi.

"Bumble bee, I want to ask you something and I want you to be honest please. I won't push for more answers after it but I want to know, does it have to do with your mom? It wasn't just a nightmare, it was a flashback from when you lived with your mom." The room was tense and silent, nobody daring to break it. My silence gave them their answer, and it opened the door for a million more questions.

"Kaara." I looked away as the man with a bad case of bed head looked at me. He shuffled close to me, not even a full foot away, our knees close to touching. "Let me try something, please." I turned my head back but didn't dare look up. I watched as his hand slowly came towards my cheek. I flinched upon contact and hated how it made me feel to have him be affectionate like this. I loved it but I hated it, it scared me. Part of me wanted to melt into his touch as he started rubbing my cheekbone. "Interesting." A few questions floated in the background but for this one moment, it felt like it was just the two of us. "Do you want to tell them or should I?" I shook my head and wanted to curl up and shield myself. My face burned from embarrassment now and I wanted it to stop. He's just being an ass, so why am I reacting like this? "I'll tell them later." His hand left my face and he scooted back a bit. "What happened?"

"What happened when?" His face dead panned and I curled in on myself more.

"What happened in the flashback? At your moms in general? Anything you're comfortable with saying. We wanna know everything but we aren't gonna force it out of you. I'm sure we each have our own theory but I'm worried, we all are Kaara." I rocked back and forth a bit as I thought, freezing when I felt a hand grab mine.

"You were scratching."

I didn't even realize.

I nodded at Keiji's words, yet he didn't let go of my hand.

"In the nightmare, uh, it was one of the times where she hit me." The tense atmosphere returned. "I was in middle school at the time, the school called home saying they were concerned about my grades and my lack of energy." I could feel the Nekoma boys eyes on me, they remember the day I was talking about. "Apparently, one of the girls in the locker room caught a glimpse of my bruises because my shirt flew up for a second and she reported it to the teacher. My mom lied and said it was from playing volleyball outside of school. When I got home, I already knew I was in a lot of trouble. She uh, slapped me around a bit and then gr-grabbed a belt." The silence was deafening, half way through Akaashi started rubbing my back but his hand froze in place. Kenma sat in Koutarou's lap, the two of them frozen with wide eyes and Kuroo looked as though he was about to cry.

"You still went to school the next day." My attention shot to Kenma at his words. "You were almost late but you still showed up, you had a limp but you said you tripped and that you were fine." I solemnly nodded. "Why not tell your dad? Or anyone? Why did you try and hide it?" His tone wasn't angry, but rather pained.

"I tried telling him. The second I started complaining he would say I shouldn't complain about my mom being strict because that's how she was raised too or it was because she had 'one too many'. He didn't petition to get me out of there permanently until I came home crying saying I hated her. She had me convinced, for years I was convinced that nobody would believe me. Her boyfriends either didn't believe me or joined in. And I didn't want to risk it with you guys. I couldn't have you say the words. I couldn't risk it. I finally told my dad and he almost tried to defend her until I cut him off." They all turned visibly upset at this new found knowledge, yet I could tell it wasn't directed at me.

"Did Komini trigger this? The nightmares?" I turned to Tetsurou and nodded.

"I wasn't completely honest the other day. I talked to his mom, Arise, afterwards. Apparently his mom was in an abusive relationship and he has anger issues and stuff. So she apologized for him lying and said she would talk to him and thinks he might have been doing it to get a rise out of me since I don't like being touched that much." They all grew angrier as I explained Arise and I's conversation.

"So he purposely did that? To get a rise out of you and maybe see why you were flinching?" I slowly nodded my head at Koutarou's words, confusion evident in his tone. "He's such an ass!" We all laughed to some extent at these words.

"Right! Plus, he got more upset about me hanging out with five guys then you four did and you're my soulmates! Shouldn't it be the other way around?" We all fell silent at my words, that was the first time I had called them 'my soulmates' with out putting a deterring word in front or after. I couldn't see Keiji's face but Kuroo was smirking, Kou was smiling widely and Kenma had the tiniest of smiles on his face. "I need to talk to you guys about something."

"What's going through your head, little atom?" I fumbled with my words as I realized what I just did to myself.

"I- shit, uh I've been thinking about uh, I don't know maybe opening up Kenma and I's bond." The room fell silent once more but this time, out of pure shock. "I-If not that's okay, I know there's some concerns behind it."

"Do you want to?" I looked at Kenma, who already stared at me with his cat like eyes. I simply shrugged and everyone watched closely, perplexed at what was happening. "I've missed your thigh pillows." He rolled out of Koutarou's lap and stopped in front of me, silently asking for permission one last time. Dramatically, I sighed and acted as though I was thinking.

"Sure, but once you lay down I know you won't move again. So we're gonna have to figure out a new sleeping arrangement first." Everyone agreed and we all shifted down. Kenma laid against the wall, I sat next to him, Akaashi on my right then Bokuto and Kuroo on the end, who mostly laid on Bo.

Kenma gave me one last glance before poking me, knowing we all would need a minute to adjust. A major rush flooded my senses, the tingling present and starting at the game controller but now things almost felt calmer. Like I could breathe for more than half a second without feeling like I was drowning again. My eyes only watered a little this time around, I was prepared for this. The surplus of emotions still caught me off guard but it was manageable. The strength of emotions faded after a minute and everyone looked to me expectantly.

"I-I'm okay." And I was, for the moment at least.

Kenma laid down, head curled on my thighs with his face towards the TV at our feet. Kou handed me the remote and told me to put on whatever so I flicked through the channels. My spare hand rested in Kenken's hair, playing with his long, bleached locs and undercut. Carding my fingers through it until I felt his body relax. My own body did too, shoulders slouching, one of Keiji's legs tossed over my own in the owl boys freakishly large bed. Until I felt it. In Kenma's half awake state and trying to get comfortable, his left hand came and rested on my thigh, palm connecting directly with his symbol. My eyes widened and breath hitched, the tingles shooting through my body was unfamiliar. My face flared red at the new surplus of emotions that I felt.

Yep. This is fine.

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venus-is-trans · 2 years

Text

Self Loathing / I’m a Liar

(Day 1, 11/18/2021)

It is far too easy to become your own worst enemy. I am my own nemesis. God, that sounds so fucking dramatic. What I mean is, I’ve become exactly who I said I would never be. I could say something came over me. Some force outside of my control grabbed me and fisted me into a marionette. I could scream. But I can’t. I own too many mirrors. I know that force was merely myself, I’ve seen her; her doubts, every moment of her life before, and every lie she’s ever told, like magma, went November-cold and turned to igneous rock. The pillar of her mistakes shone bright until it all came crashing down, and it only took not even two days. And now, what once came to me so easily, in every dream and every lesson, she now sits in a display case that I’m too afraid to touch.

I want to smash it into a million pieces, grind the shards in between my knuckles and eat them. Lick my fingers clean. Drink the blood from the roof of my mouth until every drop of color in my cheeks runs dry. Pick up the love I once cradled and tied to my back and pluck every petal off. Fold the stem back and forth like a joint filter. Roll up and inhale, exhale, cry, scream, run around in circles until I finally tire myself out enough to get some actual rest. Press all the petals into a scrapbook and leave it on your doorstep with a note: “I’m sorry.” Change my name a third time. Leave the city, the state, the country, the earth and this life behind.

I want nothing more than a reason to hate you. Oh, how that would make this easy. I want to have a reason to blame you, to scream, “FUCK YOU!” like you did to me that night two weeks ago. I want to pick apart every thing you’ve ever said to me. Roll it between my fingers like a ball of clay. Shape and mold and twist until I create some kind of reason, some kind of villain, a cartoonish bad guy that pulled my strings and swayed my decision-making. Play myself into a puppet.

But I know better. I’m a big girl now. I know I have nobody to blame but myself. Maybe my mother. Maybe my blood, my body, the men I’ve given it to. Even then, though, the blame circles back. Everything makes a circle, doesn’t it? There’s no escape from this truth, the truth I’ve mastered, the truth I’ve constructed, the truth I drove myself into, the tree branches on the side of the road that made me lose my cool and made you scared. Scared of me. Scared to love me. Scared to trust me with your heart. I can’t blame you for that anymore the way I once believed I could. I see what you were afraid of, now, now that it’s too late, now that the hole has been dug up, the seeds tossed in, the soil watered, the house set ablaze.

Self-loathing feels too pathetically easy, though. Like I don’t deserve it. I haven’t worked hard enough for it. Kind of like breathing, speaking, chewing on the lies I’ve told until the mush is something I can finally swallow and let dissolve. It was there, blinking, flashing neon gas and dollar store glitter, and I just, grabbed it. Picked it up and shoved it in my pocket like I found a penny on the sidewalk. I’d rather swallow a whole piggy bank, weigh myself down with silver and copper and maybe then I’d have a reason for feeling so heavy and it wasn’t my own weight.

It’s harder to want better. To actually, finally want change. Evolution. It’s uncomfortable, unfamiliar. I’m the bad guy this time. I did the hurting, I did the lying, I designed this catastrophe like I followed the model you showed me. But I can’t just meld into that, hide behind that. I can, but that’s cheap. I know.

And how pathetic of me to want to go back in time. Back to when we first met two years ago. Back to that date where you kissed me and I made it feel awkward. Back to the first mistake I made in leaving your messages unopened and ticking. Back to last February; fresh blue pills in my pocket, nipples budding, our second first date. Back to the spring, the grief of leaving you, the yearning to hold you again. Back to the summer when being apart felt more like love than being together in your living room last night, listening to you tell me the truth. Listening to the words “You Hurt Me” play over and over. Listening to my own voice choke, wobble, how fucking stupid I sounded. How stupid I made myself look. How stupid I was, or am, I don’t know.

It’s easier to hate myself than to be ashamed, though I am juggling both. What was I thinking. I know what I was thinking. I know far too well. i thought far too carefully, orchestrated a false reality to avoid the consequence of your insecurity and my unwavering guilt. I am attracted to you. I am. But why wasn’t that enough for me? Why did I feel like I had to stack one more plate. There were already so many in motion, spinning so delicately on the posts resting atop my arms. They already almost broke. One of them fell and chipped a bit and we worked together to pick it up and glue the missing pieces. That could’ve been it. I could’ve regained my balance, the momentum, the courage, but I just had to add one more fucking plate, didn’t I. Maybe you were right. Maybe it was self sabotage. Maybe it was a subconscious attempt at breaking this, but I didn’t want it to break this way.

I just felt cornered. But I built the walls, I paved the groundwork, I backed myself into that corner when I could’ve just turned around and looked at where I was going. I could’ve asked you. I could’ve came clean. I could’ve snapped back into and said “I lied,” but I waited. I wanted it to sink into the glass and become soluble, invisible to the naked eye. But you saw it in the pitch black of my room at 3 am. You didn’t even need to turn on a flashlight, it was like you could smell it, taste the bitters. I should’ve seen that coming; you’re a fucking sommelier. I should’ve known you’d pick up on the notes. The overcompensation. The commitment to the role. The hesitation in my voice.

But HOW. HOW did you find out. HOW did you see right through it. You had to have known, you had to have looked, you had to have invaded some part of my privacy, right? Right? No, you didn’t. You just, knew, same way you always know. And I should’ve seen that coming. You’ve played this exact game before. Different players, different rules, different game board, but you’ve played. And I told you I’d never treat this like a game. And I did. And I have to accept that. Find out why. Where the fuck that came from. A need to feel desired? A need for a challenge? A need for space? A craving for the taste of someone else’s saliva? Someone else’s cum? It was just as unsavory as I thought it would be, so why? Why did I do it? Why did I commit to it? Why did I choose then and there to finally follow through?

I didn’t want to feel like a flake, even though that’s exactly what I am. I’ve told more men than just that one that I would let them fuck me. I’ve made countless plans that went nowhere, countless lies to countless men. Empty proposals and empty promises, and for what? The rush? The adrenaline? The thrill? You asked if I was bored and I said yes. I was bored. But why? Because it was too comfortable? What did I want to be new? The flirting? You flirted better and I knew that. The kissing? You kissed me closer and I knew that. The sex? You fucked me better than anyone else could and I knew that.

But I’m just, 20. I don’t mean to infantilize myself, but that’s really what it comes down to. This was too perfect for a 20-year-old to handle. I was too 20-years-old for a love without regret, without mistakes, without a fuck up. But I was the one that fucked up. I was the one that self-destructed. I was the one that thought, well, that I was missing out. But I already had what I was looking for. I got too greedy. I let hubris take the reigns regardless of all the myths and folktales I’ve read. I played Icarus this time. I wanted to be the Sun, but no. This time, I was the stupid little kid with those stupid wings and that stupid candle wax.

Part of me felt jealous of you. Felt like I needed more so I could reach you. You talk about how much sex you’ve had, you mention past partners and part-time lovers and people you’ve fucked and been fucked by, you have all these stories to tell and all these people you know and I just don’t. Not yet. And I guess I was afraid. I guess I was afraid if it wasn’t me to hurt you first, that meant you would hurt me. I forgot that love doesn’t need to hurt. Can you blame me? Maybe you can, and maybe you’re right in doing so. Maybe I’m the problem. Maybe I can’t write my way or think my way out of this one. Maybe I never could and not knowing that is what put me here. Maybe I just put myself here. That’s the scariest part. There was no invisible hand, there was no mysterious force, there was no astrological placement or supernatural deity bewitching my actions. If I pull off the hood, I find was me all along.

But I already knew that, so why did I not stop myself? Why did I commit? Why did I spend so much time thinking of where I could’ve been instead of simply telling you where I was? Ah, another circle. Damn. Right back in the loop of asking questions I already know the answer to. Is that not also a lie? Am I just a liar? I am, and compulsively so, but I never wanted to lie to you. And yet I already have, haven’t I? Even before this. I would lie about classes I’d missed, lie about experiences I’d had, lie about feeling okay, feeling resolved, lie and say I had nothing to say while holding my tongue under my teeth. I’m a liar. That’s what got us here. That’s what I need to fix. For you. For everyone I know. For me.

And that’s why I cannot say I loathe myself. Because that would be a lie, though a part of me wants to or wishes I did. But what good would that do either of us.

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tavvattales · 3 years

Note

helloooo can i request a fluff lof y/n taking care of their injuries after some long fight? with childe, xiao and diluc 😊 thank youuu

Oh my goodness, yes of course! <3

And if I may be bold to say, you're my first ever ask! Thank you so much for enjoying my work. I hope you enjoy these stories I wrote especially for you! 😊😊

---------------------------------------------------'--

GENSHIN IMPACT Character x gn reader fluff stories~♡♡

Scenario: Cleaning up their wounds

Characters: Childe/Tartaglia, Xiao, Diluc(seperate)

Pairings: Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader, Xiao x gn reader, Diluc x gn reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injuries, minor swearing

SFW----> Lots of fluff down below. Click at your own risk. ;)

Childe/Tartaglia:

● He's a skilled fighter, he wouldn't be a Harbinger if he wasn't, so very rarely would he come to you with a wound. When he does he's always embarrassed, but he'll come to you because you never pass judgment, instead your eyes are filled with worry and love.

● He loves how gentle you are when you tend to him. The way he looks at you when you clean him up and the way you smile at him, telling him how glad you are it wasn't anything serious. He knows how much you love him and it makes him fall even harder for you. Every. Single. Time.

A loud, rapid knock to your door startled you awake. Groggily you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes wondering who it could be at this time of night. As you reach the door, you peer through the peep hole. Surprised, you open the door.

A Fatui agent stood there, bowing to you. Immediately you knew what was wrong before the man could have a chance to speak, "Where is he? How bad is it?" You asked, rushed, already putting your coat on over your sleeping garments.

"He's at the Northlander Bank. He would have come here himself, but this time it's. . .bad. He's lost a bit of blood," The agent spoke grimly. You felt the lump in your throat rise and you tried to swallow.

"Thank you. ." You manage to say to the man before rushing past him, grabbing the medical supplies in the process. You didn't stop running through the brightly lit streets of Liyue until you arrived at the bank.

Panting and gasping for air you pushed past the two Fatui agents who were guarding the doors. They already knew who you were so they didn't even try to stop you, otherwise you would have had their tounge.

You quickly made your way to his room where a few more agents were attending to him as he lay on his bed, clutching his side with blood soaked rags. Your nose was immediately met with the smell of iron, "Childe! Oh my Archons, what the hell happened?!" You rush to his side, pulling out your medical supplies.

You shooed the remaining agents out of the room so you could focus. "I had a run in with a peculiar traveler named Aether. He put up quite a fight. ." His breathing was heavy and staggered, fading in and out of consciousness.

"I need you to keep talking to me, my love," you say to him gently, trying to stay calm, "I'm going to cut off your shirt so I can better assess your wound, okay?" You swiftly take out your surgical scissors and cut away the crimson soaked fabric clinging to his upper torso.

You gasp, the wound was a large slash across the side of his abdomen. You stifle back tears before meekly saying, "You're going to be okay. I promise. You'll need several stitches, but I'm determined to keep you alive."

He lets out a small laugh before wincing in pain, "I'm lucky to have someone as kind and caring as you, Y/N" Childe weakly reaches over to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand for a brief moment before replying, "Take this for the pain, and this to help stop the bleeding. Afterwards I'm going to need to disinfect the wound," You hand him two pills and he swallows them quickly, "It's going to hurt, love, so bare with me. ."

You open up a bottle of alcohol and offer your hand to him, "Squeeze my hand," You say to him as you start pouring the alcohol over his wound. He grits his teeth and lets out a pained groan as he squeezes your hand tightly. You work quickly from there, stitching his wound perfectly.

Once you're finished you clean up all the rags and place a clean damp one over his forehead. He's now asleep, getting the much deserved rest he needed. You place a gentle kiss upon his cheek, not leaving his side.

He'll live to see another day, thank the Archons.

Childe/Tartaglia x gn reader END

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

Xiao:

● He also isn't one to get injured so quickly, though when he does you're always quickly by his side no matter how big or small. Even though he's not much for human interaction, he quite enjoys the attention he gets from you.

● He'll always thank you in his own way with odd gifts he made himself. You find it charming. By now you have quite the collection and they're all your most prized possessions.

Today you wanted to travel to Mondstat as you heard there was a festival going on and Xiao offered to accompany you, but only for protection he insisted. He thought human customs were a waste and didn't want to be bothered with them.

The journey to Mondstat would take half a day, and sometimes the roads could be treacherous, so you made sure to pack all of the necessities.

Snacks for the road? Check. Extra water? Check. A med kit? Of course. You triple checked everything and you were about to check it a fourth time when Xiao stopped you and said, "Y/N, you have everything we need. Trust me," He placed a firm, but gentle hand on your shoulder, "Now let's get going before it gets too late. The roads will get dangerous is we wait any longer."

You let out a small sigh and nod, "You're right. Sorry, you know I always gotta make sure everything's in order." You could have sworn you heard him huff and that made you smile. Xiao always had a cold exterior, but you knew a different side to him. He was gentle, kind, always looking out for you. You loved him so much for that. He'd never let anyone but you see this side of him.

Grabbing your sack you sling it over your shoulder and secure it as you both prepare to head out. Xiao was never one for small talk, but you still engaged him in conversation while you two walked. He secretly loved the sound of your voice so he kept you entertained just so he could keep hearing it.

After a few hours of walking both of you had arrived to Stone Gate, you decide it was time for a break. You stretch your arms upwards and arch your back before plopping down on top of a log you had found, patting the spot next to you for Xiao to sit next to you, but he shook his head and continued to stand on guard, "Oh come on, Xiao. We've been walking for hours. It's okay to rest for a bi-"

He quickly raised his hand to stop you from talking and put a finger to his lips before quietly saying, "I sense something evil coming our way," He readied his jade spear before continuing, "I need you to hide someplace safe."

"No way am I going to let you fight on your own!" You retort, getting your sword ready. Determination burned in your eyes as you glanced over to him.

He met your gaze and let out a small sigh, his golden eyes glimmering before giving you a nod, "Fine."

You started hearing rustling from all around you both when it finally clicked that it was an ambush. A charge of at least twenty Hilichurls and three large ones came at the both of you from all sides, "Tck. . Damn. There are more than I expected, " Xiao muttered angrily, knocking back three with his spear in one swift movement, killing them instantly.

You swiftly take out two more, rushing at a third one. You two made a hell of a team. You didn't have a vision, but you were very skilled with the sword and whatever you didn't have, Xiao made up for it creating the perfect synergy between the both of you.

"So much for a peaceful break!" You call out to him as you hacked away a few more, so far you've managed not to get hit. Xiao managed to take out the rest rather quickly.

You rush to his side, noticing a rather long cut across his right cheek, "Xiao, you've been hurt," you said, a frown forming on your lips. He reached up to touch it and he winced slightly.

"I must have been nicked by an arrow, " He muttered, "I'm just glad you're not hurt," He softly took your chin in his hand as he tilted your head gently, side to side.

You blush furiously, avoiding his beautiful gaze, "Let me at least tend to your cut. It's the least I can do" you say, rummaging through your sack taking out the med kit.

Xiao took a seat on the log you were previously sitting on as you kneel in front of him, gently tending his wound. He winces each time you dab it with the disinfectant, but he's grateful to you.

After placing the bandage on his cut, he gingerly takes your hand and places it back on his cheek, nuzzling into it, "Thank you, " He said in a hushed whisper before kissing your hand.

You smile at him and leaned upwards, giving a quick kiss to his bandaged cut, leaving him stunned. "That's to make it heal faster" you say giggling softly at his expression.

He still wasn't used to human customs, but this he could get used to.

Xiao x gn reader END

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

Diluc:

● His work as the Dark Knight hero brings him home with several injuries a week, but you're quick to assist him and most of the time he's careful not to sustain anything too horrible. Though you never fail to scold him for being reckless and to take it easy once in a while.

● He always studies your features as you tend to him, falling in love with you all over again. You're so tender with your touch, careful not to cause him any further harm. He always pulls you into a tight embrace afterwards, grateful to be back in your arms after a long night.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you study the mildly battered Diluc. His bright fiery colored hair, falling in locks in front of his face as he plops down in a chair, leaning his head back. He had several small cuts from what you could tell with the amount of tears on his clothing, "You over did it again, didn't you?" You asked, hands on your hips.

"Mm, perhaps I may have, " Diluc replies back, slowly taking off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, preparing for you to clean out his cuts and scrapes.

You click your tongue in response to his answer, "You worry me so much, you know that, right?" But you're quick to blush as he slides off his shirt, his perfectly sculpted abs catching the dim light of the room, creating perfect shadows across his skin.

He smirks at you, "I'm aware, but I also love seeing how you care for me after a long night, Y/N," Diluc takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips as he gingerly kisses it, glancing up at you with his gentle crimson eyes.

You fidget shyly, meeting his gaze, "O-of course. I'll always support you, but it's okay to give your body a break once in a while too. ." You say, smiling softly wondering what you were gonna do with him.

Diluc lets go of your hand, letting you get to work on cleaning his several small cuts. You're careful not to further hurt him as you dab them clean, applying a bandage to each one, "All finished." You say, proud of your handiwork.

"Thank you, my dear," He says as he gets up, pulling you into a warm embrace. Your heart pounding in your chest. You lift your face up to meet his loving crimson gaze as he leans down to give you a soft, warm kiss upon your lips.

You may not like to see him hurt, but you live for these gentle moments.

Diluc x gn reader END

I hope you enjoy <3

#genshin impact #Genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fandom #genshin impact fanfiction #Genshin impact childe #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact diluc #genshin childe #genshin xiao #genshin diluc #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #diluc fluff #childe fluff #xiao fluff

775 notes · View notes

hey-there-love · 3 years

Text

Apologize: The Morning After

Summary: Was it an accident waking up in Bakugo’s bed or was it grand design

Content Warning: Aged up, NSFW, 18+, Masc oral receiving, penetration, little tiny dacryphilia, AU, Adult Language, Enter at Your Own Risk

WC: 2.3K

Type: Imagine

Hot. You were unbelievably hot. You kicked your leg out from under the comforter and let it hang over the edge of the bed. The bright sunrise flooded through the cracked blinds, beating down onto your skin. Refusing to open your eyes to let the reality of being awake sink in you remained completely still. That was until you heard soft snores from your bed.

Your eyes shot open, confused on who the snores belonged to until it clicked in your head. You slowly rolled your head over to make sure. This wasn’t your bed or your room. This was Bakugo’s.

Shit!

You internally screamed. You had never shared a bed with him before. Spending the night was more intimate than what you did in the dark. It brought everything into a different light. A light that you weren’t ready to confront.

You took a minute to admire the sleeping being infront of you. There he laid, blonde hair splayed against the pillow and his forehead. His smooth face was illuminated by the sunny glow. Not a furrow or frown line in sight. Slightly parted rose colored lips blew small puffs of air. He looked peaceful, angelic almost.

Your chest felt tight, feeling guilty for gawking at him while he rested blissfully. Memories flooded into your brain from the night before. The dull ache between your legs was a reminder of your actives. You came to the realization that you loved this boy, you couldn’t deny it anymore. You had to escape before you languished in your thoughts any longer.

You quietly sat up and threw your legs over the side of the bed. You were ready to run as soon as your feet hit the ground. You felt Bakugo’s hand reach up and grab your wrist gently. “You’re not leaving are you?” His husky voice rang through you ears. You had been caught.

You turned your head slightly to meet his eyes. His once hard, crimson glare was different. Now they were soft, searching for something. It made you melt. You mentally cursed before saying, “No...just brushing my teeth.”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly and released your wrist. “Proceed.” Bakugo stated. You reached inside your bag and pulled out your toothbrush.

Hastily, you retreated to the bathroom and shut the door. Leaning against the counter you took a ragged breath. Your head hurt. You were aggravated with yourself that you came to your deduction in his presence instead of the privacy of your own thoughts. A place where you could sift through it all and try to make sense of your feelings. As much as you wanted to run, you also wanted to go fall back into Bakugo’s waiting arms and snuggle into him.

You inspected yourself in the mirror, utterly grossed out with how you were presented infront of him. However, you didn’t mind falling asleep in his trademark black shirt and briefs. You threw some water on your face and scrubbed the smudged mascara from under your eyes. While brushing your teeth, you worked diligently to finger rake the tangles out of your hair.

“Oi, hurry up. You’re not the only one with shitty breath.” Bakugo’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. You flung the door open, revealing the man in a pair of black sweats that hung off of his waist deliciously.

“Wow.” You sighed. He shot you a confused, sideways look. “Your breath really does stink. I can smell it from here.” You grinned and poked the flesh of his cheek.

Bakugo’s face lit up red before saying, “Shut up before I melt your eyebrows with it.” You crinkled your nose in response and moved out of the bathroom. You laid back into his bed and awaited his return.

When the door opened, you were aware that the Bakugo you were used to still wasn’t present. His stance wasn’t rigid like normal, it was light and airy. The tension he always carried was gone. It was different, a good different. He slid back into bed under the covers next to you, his arm slinking around your waist to pull you closer.

Delicate kisses were littered across your neck, tickling you. You bit your lip to suppress your giggles. It didn’t work. “Love that sound.” He smiled and continued to pepper them along your collarbones. Bakugo’s long fingers began to poke at your sides, earning more giggles.

“Stop it, we’re going to wake up Kiri!” You whinned, attempting to grab his arms to stop the assault. This only made him work faster. Your ribs were burning with the pain of laughter.

“Can’t wake someone up if they’re not here!” Bakugo hollered and laid ontop of you, making sure there was no easy getaway. Deciding that you couldn’t flee safely another idea came into mind.

You grabbed his jaw and pulled him towards you, landing a slow kiss on his lips. This halted his actions, instead his hands moved to prop himself up. You bit his lip lightly, earning a groan in response. You throughly enjoyed the noises he made. Maybe this sleeping over thing wasn’t half as bad as you made it out to be.

His hand slid down to the briefs you adorned, toying with the band that laid across your skin. You lifted your hips slightly, not breaking the kiss. Bakugo slid the underwear down your hips to your knees before taking a finger to play with your clit. Hushed noises escaped your throat to his lips.

His finger slowly made its way inside, collecting the slick to bring it back to your clit. Bakugo rubbed back and forth leisurely before continuing to pay attention to your core. He thrusted two fingers in, making your back arch from the bed.

“Your pussy is so perfect, Y/N.” He groaned, pulling down the briefs with his free hand and freed your legs. “What if I just cockwarmed myself for a little while...” Bakugo trailed off as he curled his fingers, drumming against the spongy spot inside of you.

You nodded quickly, before connecting your lips with his. You could feel his grin against your mouth as he slid off his sweats, freeing his dick. You instantly grabbed it and began to stroke his length. Bakugo replaced your hand with his before looking into your eyes. “Can I? I’ll put a condom on in a minute I swear.”

You had never had Bakugo raw before. You contemplated for a moment. You weren’t as worried because you both had been very open about your health and he revealed he wasn’t with anyone else in a long time. Plus, you were on the pill. You licked your lips slightly before answering, “Okay, you can Katsuki.”

That’s all it took. Bakugo began to tease your heat slowly with the tip. Sliding up and down to dampen himself with your slick. He finally aligned himself with you and pressed in slowly. It was a foreign feeling being skin to skin. “Shit, you feel so amazing.” He hissed, sinking himself into you. Pretty soon you were completely filled with his dick.

Bakugo pulled you into a tight embrace and rested his head against yours. Your walls fluttered around him as you adjusted to the new sensation. “Holy fuck, so good.” You moaned wrapping your arms around him, enjoying the new level of closeness. You had never felt more safe.

“Mhm, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to feel you like this baby.” Bakugo whispered and planted a kiss against your cheek. Time seemed to slow down. You tried to blissfully enjoy being in the moment with him, but your arousal grew immensely. You wanted more. You needed more.

“Please, move Katsuki.” You begged, moving your hips to urge him.

“Only for a few.” He murmured, drunk on your velvety walls. His thrusts began short and swallow. Making sure to map out each crevice and rib inside of you. Your whimpers were music to his ears.

You ran your hands through his hair, gingerly pulling at the roots. The Bakugo that was nestled between your thighs was new. It was Katsuki.

You wanted to treat him for once, make him feel like he deserved to be treated like he walked on air. You placed your hand on his chest, lightly pushing him to lie on his back. “What are you doing baby?” He whinned at the loss of contact between you.

“Switching things up.” You responded, straddling his waist. He folded his arms behind his head and gave you a smirk indicating for you to start. You began to leave kisses on his neck, trailing down to his chest. You licked a strip of heat down his abdomen to the blonde tuff of hair, planting a kiss onto it. You grasped his cock and looked up at him through your lashes in an attempt to be seductive.

It definitely worked. Katsuki’s eyes bore a hole in you, awaiting your next move with anticipation. You began to kitten lick the tip gently before pressing your lips upon it. He hissed in approval as a hand reached to the back of your head. You slowly took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks out on the way down. There was no way your could fit his whole dick in your mouth comfortably so you used your hand to massage the rest.

“Damnit,” Katsuki moaned and pulled the hair in your eyes away from your face. “You look so pretty while your sucking me off.” You felt your cheeks turn red. It was either a result of the compliment or the interrupted air flow. You took a breather, but still toyed with him. The hand that rested on your head cupped your cheek, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

“So fucking perfect.” You braced yourself and pushed Katsuki’s cock to the back of your throat, swallowing the majority of his length. “Fuck.” He groaned and pressed your head down, urging you to go past your limit. You allowed him to fuck your mouth throughly for a few minutes. Tears welted in your eyes. Animalistic growls escaped his chest indicating that his release wasn’t far away.

You knew he was about to be pissed at you, but you didn’t care. You quickly removed him from your mouth and straddled his waist again. “What the fuck.” He whinned, throwing his head onto the pillow.

“Would you just be quiet for once.” You said, lining yourself up with his cock. You hardly ever rode Bakugo. He was always the dominant one, constantly pinning you in place and fucking you into the mattress at any given time. You always took it, enjoying letting someone else take control for a while.

You teased yourself with his dick. Sliding up and down his length. “Oh you’re one to ta-“ He attempted to say, but was quickly cut off by you sinking onto him slowly. You bit your lip as you adjusted to the pleasure of him being that deep. “Fuck.” He hissed and gripped onto your thighs. There were definitely going to hand marks later on.

Leisurely, you moved making sure to glide on every single inch. Your hands moved up to clutch your breasts through the thin material of his shirt. You were a moaning mess, it had never felt this good when you practiced riding alone. This was a whole new feeling, his dick dragging against your walls and hitting your spot perfectly each time.

Katsuki looked like he was enjoying the same amount of pleasure. His eye brows furrowed together, while his jaw hung slack. Instead of the grunts and groans that he normally made he moaned and whinned like a little bitch under you. You relished in the fact that you were the one who was making Katsuki Bakugo fall to his knees.

You increased your pace, feeling a knot growing in your stomach. You threw your head back as you gear shifted him. Katsuki could feel your walls clenching, indicating that your orgasm was in sight. He began to encourage you. “You’re so beautiful when you fuck yourself Y/N.” He thumb connected to your clit and began to rub circles. “You take my dick like a pro. Are you gonna cum all over me?” He prodded stroking your clit faster.

You were speechless, you were swirling down the drain. “I’m cumming!” You screamed, seeing stars. That was all it took for Katsuki to take control once again and flip you onto your back, still inside. Your walls fluttered, grasping onto his dick. It made his own release speed up. He rammed into you roughly, every word that left his mouth was dirty.

Your legs began to shake. “This is my fucking pussy.” He growled possesively, “Will always be mine.” Katsuki quickly pulled out and stroked himself a few times before finally unloading and painting your stomach with his seed.

He jumped up and returned a few moments later with a warm wash cloth. Inspecting each area carefully, he made sure to wipe all your crevices and his load from you. He laid beside your silently as he ran his hand through your hair.

You both stared at each other blissfully for a few minutes until he looked down at the mattress. “Don’t make this awkward okay?”

You scrunched your face together lightly. You were obviously confused. Could he tell you had more feelings than what you led on? Katsuki sighed before hiding his face.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

#bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo smut #katsuki smut #bnha

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wkemeup · 3 years

Text

Sunrise (4)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.2k warnings: symptoms of depression, PTSD, anxiety, some really sweet moments to balance it out, more book recs 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“You’re staring at the doors again, sweetie.”

Chin resting on your hands, arms folded out on the countertop of the library’s front desk, you tore your eyes away from the entrance to find Mrs. Jefferson peering over at you from over the bridge of her glasses. She smirked as she returned to her book, knowing she’d caught you in the act.

“Have patience,” she said simply.

“Book club is tomorrow and—” you sighed, a heaviness returning to your body as you slumped back against the counter, stare drifting back to the doors at the entrance. The sun was beaming outside, reflecting in beautiful rays as it illuminated the walkway and touched over old oak and the colorful bindings of novels.

You frowned. “I really thought he was going to come.”

“This James Barnes... he’s a soldier, yes? Like my boy?”

You nodded, disappointment burning like a lump in your throat, though you swallowed it back. “A Sergeant. Sam said he came home a little under a year ago.”

“Then he’ll come,” Mrs. Jefferson pressed confidently, sliding her glasses up her nose, the chain of purple beads clicking against the gem stones on her sweater. “Boys like that don’t break their word. Even if he is a bit of a hesitant one.”

You knew what she meant by that. Hesitant.

No one liked to talk about the dangers of a soldier post-war. It was uncomfortable; the idea that they could still be fighting a battle long beyond the absence of a weapon in their hands and the threat of present danger. Heroes weren’t supposed to have chinks in their armor. They weren’t supposed to crumble and break under the weight of what happened beyond borders and the guilt they carried.

They were supposed to be strong; a symbol of a great country and a willing tribute to place upon a pedestal. It was unacceptable to be a burden, unacceptable to do anything other than seamlessly integrate back into a society that they never really knew to begin with.

It was all a farce; a rigged game set to line the pockets of the rich and exploit everyone else in its path – sent off to fight for a cause no one really understood or believed in. It left behind good men and women to the rubble; Bucky Barnes among them.

Sam hadn’t told you much about Bucky before you met him, but you knew enough to tell that it was a struggle to get him to leave the apartment. He was isolated and quiet and hardly recognizable from the man you’d seen in photos. Only, it wasn’t the lack of his left arm that drew your attention when you first saw him, but the lingering sadness in his eyes.

Sam had a picture hanging in the office that often pulled you in. Bucky stood on his left side, smiling so wide it left lines on his face. He was bright, light as a feather, only weighed down by Steve’s arm slung around his shoulders. You wondered if the man in the photo would have flirted shamelessly with you, if he’d have corny pickup lines or offer to take you dancing. He looked like the sort of man who had girls chasing his tail, a line of heartbreak in his wake. He was beautiful.

It was strange to see him like that, comparing him to the man he was today. Now, it was like a cloud lingered over his head, draining the color from his skin and chipping away at his soul until it dimmed and crumbled and faded away.

But you’d seen glimpses of the man in the photo. He was still beautiful; a little hurt and dragging his feet, but beautiful. His smile wasn’t quite as wide and the cloud was still present, but there was a peak of sunshine peering through. A single ray puncturing over stormy skies, but it was something. He’d laughed and teased and it was more than Sam had known him to do in months. You were determined to see the sun touch his skin again. If only he’d let you guide him there.

“I’m going to go restock on the second level,” you conceded, pushing yourself up from the counter and sauntering over to the cart lined heavy with books.

“Alright sweetie. I’ll be sure to page you when your Sergeant shows up.”

You felt a heat burning in your face at the very idea of ‘your Sergeant’. Mrs. Jefferson chuckled to herself, eyes still down on her book. She waved you off, not giving you a chance to object, even if you could string together a coherent sentence.

***

Bucky couldn’t get out of bed.

He’d been in this predicament hundreds of times before; staring up at the ceiling, wasting the days away as the curtains blocked the light and shielded him from the reminder of another sun daring to rise beyond his window. His energy would be drained and his willingness to so much as brush his teeth was obsolete. He’d known what it felt like to not be able to get out of bed.

This was different.

He had somewhere to be. He actually wanted to get up. He really fucking wanted to.

But the pain in his arm had flared to one of the worst episodes he’d had in months and it rendered him useless; the arm that was both there and not there. He could feel his left hand curl to a fist, could feel the itch on his palm, but when he tried to scratch it, he was only met with thin air, his right hand sinking to the mattress in search of the sensation that didn’t exist.

It was infuriating.

The nerve endings in his shoulder were going haywire. It felt like his arm was being ripped from his body and it took nearly all the energy he had not to let it consume him. He’d even gone as far to bite off a piece of his cheek in an effort to suppress the lump in his throat.

Sam would have frowned at that, spewed him some bullshit about how crying can be therapeutic and Steve would nod his head annoyingly in agreement, but Bucky was tougher than that. He had to be tougher than that. If he allowed himself to unlatch that gate, it would consume him whole. He’d drown.

Hinges squeaked at the front entrance as the door swung open and a pair of heavy footsteps came rushing into the apartment.

“I’m coming, buddy! Hold on!” Sam called, the plastic swish of the grocery bag handing off his arms dropping to the floor. Bucky tried to concentrate on the sound of running water, the bottle of pills shaking in the small orange bottle, and not on the pain threatening to tear him in half.

The door to his bedroom flung open and Sam rushed in with a glass of water and his fist closed around two red capsules. He paused in the frame, a frown pushing down at his mouth, and Bucky could only imagine what he looked like; disheveled, sweating, laying in day old clothes and muddled sheets. His right hand was shaking.

“Alright, help me out, Barnes,” Sam said, setting the glass down on the bedside table. He placed a steady hand on Bucky’s back to help push himself upright. Bucky swung his legs off the side of the bed, finding his balance before Sam placed the pills in his hand.

Bucky threw them back into his mouth, holding his hand out for the glass of water that would come next. It landed in his grip and he gulped down the medication. There was no instant relief with pain like this, but the knowledge it would soon wear off to something manageable was enough.

“Thanks,” he mumbled out, voice tense as he struggled to find it.

“Insurance companies are assholes,” Sam scoffed, shaking his head, though he patted Bucky on the knee. “Cutting off coverage for a fucking vet with no warning like that? Can’t believe you’ve been without this stuff for almost a week. It’s messed up.”

Bucky had come to expect it. He knew something had to go wrong eventually with how things were starting to turn around. He’d actually been looking forward to seeing you at the library and almost went that next day if it wasn’t for the sudden attack on his own body. He'd tried to deal with it on his own, thinking he might sleep it off, but then it became unbearable. Insurance wouldn’t budge and he didn’t have the energy to argue on the phone with them all day. Thankfully, Sam did.

Except now it was a day before the next book club meeting and Bucky didn’t know how he was supposed to face you. Part of him wondered if you'd be disappointed, if maybe you’d steal a glance over the doors and hope that it was him walking through, only to be let down as each day passed by. The other half wondered if you’d care at all.

But he’d seen the way you’d smiled at him, how you’d lit up at the idea of him stopping by.

You’d care.

He wasn’t sure if that hurt worse, seeing as he never showed up.

“You could still go.”

Bucky sighed at Sam’s suggestion. He wasn’t teasing him, wasn’t wearing that shit-eating grin. He was being serious. It was the kind of look that reminded Bucky that under it all, Sam was one of his closest friends, one of the few that stuck around when everything went to shit.

“She’ll want to see you,” Sam continued, nudging Bucky’s side with a soft smile, but Bucky shook his head, unconvinced.

“What am I supposed to say to her, Sam?” Bucky groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “’Sorry I stood you up, but I felt like my hand was being sawed off on an arm I don’t even fucking have?’”

“Why not?” Sam shrugged, earning a glare in response he let roll off his shoulders with ease. “She’d understand, Buck. She knows what comes with the territory here. She’s a lot more familiar with this stuff than you think.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, a pang of jealousy burning hot in his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe you should ask her why she got involved with the VA in the first place.”

Bucky pressed his lips to a thin line, a silence coming over them. That was an immensely personal question; one akin to someone asking him how he’d lost his arm. He wasn’t sure that was an answer you’d be willing to share.

Sam exhaled a heavy breath, patting Bucky three times on the knee before he stood up. “Let the meds kick in, but promise you’ll try to go, alright?”

Bucky stared up at Sam for a moment before he conceded with a short nod. The pain in his shoulder was starting to lessen, at least. It didn’t feel like his arm was being torn from his body or a knife was plunging into a part of him that didn’t exist anymore. It would likely get back to a place he could deal with within the hour.

“I promise,” Bucky said. “I’ll go.”

***

A brush of warm air filtered in through the vents as Bucky stepped inside the library. It was bigger than he remembered with large stain glass windows on the outer walls, filtering in a colorful sunlight onto the aisles upon aisles of books. At the center, just ahead of the entrance, was a reception desk. Bucky exhaled a tense breath in an attempt to rid himself from the nerves rattling in his veins and made his way to the woman sitting behind the counter.

She was reading quietly in her seat, a pair of glasses on a beaded chain perched at the very tip of her nose. She didn’t look up in his direction until he stood at the edge of the desk, and only then, she caught glance of him over the top of her glasses before a smile rose on her lips.

“Can I help you, young man?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “I’m supposed to meet someone. She, uh, works here. Y/n.”

The woman nodded. She wore the kind of smile on her face Bucky was familiar with. He’d seen it in Sam about a dozen times in the last week; the kind of smile that said ‘I was right.’

“You must be Sergeant Barnes,” she said as she picked up the radio from the desk.

Bucky nodded quickly, glancing over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he felt jittery. He tried not to let the fact that you’d clearly talked to this woman about him throw him completely off his game. If he even had game to begin with…

“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky replied with an even tone. She smirked.

“Y/n,” she called into the radio, “you have a guest at the front desk.”

The woman held up a finger to him though it trembled with age, signaling for him to wait a moment. Bucky nodded, tucking his hand into his pocket as he silently made his way over to the series of chairs lined along the wall.

He gripped his fist tight inside his pocket, trying to ignore the pulsing in his shoulder. It had lessened considerably since Sam brought him his meds, but it hadn’t gone away completely. Showering had taken longer than usual and it took him nearly four minutes just to pull a shirt over his head. His army jacket hung over his shoulders, wrapped in a protective layer, loose sleeve at his side.

“If you’re pulling my chain, Mrs. Jefferson…”

Bucky perked up at the sound of your voice. You were crossing the main entrance from the staircase, half jogging to the counter where the woman, Mrs. Jefferson, was grinning to herself from behind her book.

You draped over the counter, toes barely keeping hold on the tile floors as you attempted to reach for her book, but she snatched it from your grasp just in time. You huffed, sinking back down the floor.

“It’s not funny!” you whined and Bucky almost felt a little guilty for not making his presence known yet, but you were just so cute the way you slumped your shoulders and glanced back at the entrance.

Mrs. Jefferson pointed over to where Bucky had slowly begun to make his way towards you, but you folded your arms over your chest. Bucky cleared his throat when he stood a few paces off your shoulder, but you didn’t seem to hear him.

Mrs. Jefferson caught Bucky’s eye before she turned her attention back to you. “Sweetie, he’s—”

“He’s not coming, okay?” you groaned and Bucky felt a stone drop into his stomach. “I—I thought he would but… I was wrong.”

Bucky parted his lips to speak but suddenly his throat was dry. Mrs. Jefferson’s smile started to fade. Clearly, Bucky wasn’t the only one who heard the disappointment in your voice, the sliver of heartbreak, too. He tried to speak, to call your name, to say something, but he was marbled stone.

“I’m going back to work.”

There wasn’t time to pull his words together before you slammed head first into Bucky’s chest. He stumbled back a few paces, surprised, and you gasped, hands flying to your mouth.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t—” You stilled, taking in who was standing in front of you. “Bucky?”

He pressed out a smile, though his ears were burning red. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No! N-no, you’re totally fine! I didn’t—I didn’t think you were—” You blinked a few times before your eyes darted back at Mrs. Jefferson who only smirked from behind her book, adjusting the glasses on the tip of her nose. You turned back to Bucky, brushing out the hem of your skirt and wrapping the thick layer of a lavender colored cardigan tightly around your waist, almost like a blanket.

You exhaled a nervous breath, a nervous smile lifting into your cheeks. “I’m happy you came.”

“It would have been sooner, I swear,” Bucky replied quickly, watching helplessly as your smile brightened into a laugh. “But, um, my uh—”

He chewed on the edge of his lip. Was he really going to tell you what kept him held up in his room for days on end? Would it bitter the sweet way you looked at him to know that he was a mess under a poorly constructed surface, tied together with string and scotch tape? But you were looking at him so fondly, he wondered if there was anything he could say that could take that away.

“My arm,” he admitted, waiting for a flash of disgust on your face that never came. You softened a bit, but your eyes never left his. He cleared his throat. “It, um… It was just acting up. I ran out of meds and the pain it—it got bad. The kinda pain that sorta makes me wish I had the arm just so I could saw it off myself.”

Shit. He hadn’t mean to say that much but there was just something about the way you looked at him that made him feel like he couldn’t say a damn wrong thing. You pursed your lips, nodding in as much understanding as you could offer. You gestured to the staircase and Bucky followed you without question.

“I would have been here last week,” Bucky finished because he needed you to know. He couldn’t stand the idea of you being upset, of that sliver of disappointment in your voice when you’d accepted he wasn’t going to show. He needed you to know he’d tried.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you said simply, though he could tell you appreciated it nonetheless. You offered him a smile, one that washed away any feelings of doubt that crept up to the surface. The pain in his shoulder was long forgotten when you looked at him like that.

“I just wanted you to know.”

I just wanted you to know I’m trying.

He had something to look forward to now, a reason to get out of his bed and open the curtains and look at the fucking sun for once. He had reason to shower and go outside and shove away all the thoughts of self-doubt and paranoia because there was something incredible waiting for him beyond the door.

I just wanted you to know you’re the reason I’m trying.

“Come on,” you grinned, leading him to the staircase. “I have a few books in mind you might like.”

Your hand extended in his direction, but you caught yourself when you realized what you were doing. It was seamless enough that you easily played it off as you tugged your sweater tight around your body, but he noticed. It was an intimate gesture, a closeness he hadn’t known in years.

He hadn’t remembered what it felt like to crave something like that.

***

It didn’t take long for Bucky to settle on The Martian by Andy Weir. It was the first book you pulled from the shelves, one amongst a series of alternatives you had ready in the event this one didn’t appeal to him. All it took was a single glance over the back cover, a slight incline in his brow, and he was sold.

“I trust you,” was all Bucky had said; so simply, as if it didn’t take the breath straight from your chest.

Bucky didn’t have a library card you realized as you brought him back to the front desk. He’d sheepishly asked to check it out on your account, but you were determined to see more of him and you hoped that by getting him his own card, he might be more inclined to come back. Not that you explained it that way per say, but he didn’t object at least.

It had taken a lot less time than either of you anticipated and you found yourself following him to the exit, both of you dragging your feet.

“So, um…” he started, a nervous chuckle in his voice. “That was easy.”

“Yeah,” you scratched at the back of your neck, glancing to the clock hanging high on the eastern wall. “I hope you like it after all this trust you’re putting in my judgement.”

“I’m sure I will.”

A short silence swept over. Neither of you moving to leave. A couple swerved around you in an effort to get to the doors. The silence wasn’t awkward, but there was a nervous energy in it, like you were both waiting for the other to make the first move. Only, you both did it at once.

“Would you want to—”

“I’m off at four—”

You bit down on your lips, suppressing a laugh. You gestured for him to go first. His looked so sweet with the pink in his cheeks. A man who had been once rendered as a weapon and he wore a blush in his cheeks. Your stomach held butterflies in its cage.

“There’s a coffeeshop nearby,” he continued nervously. “I was thinking I could replace that coffee of yours I spilled last week…”

Your cheeks were starting to ache from how wide you were smiling. “Give me five minutes? I just need to wrap things up with Mrs. Jefferson and then I’m yours.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a second, a flash of something unreadable on his face. He shook it off quickly and nodded, telling you he’d wait by the chairs along the wall until you were ready. It wasn’t until you were halfway to the desk that you’d realized what you’d said.

I’m yours.

A harmless saying; one people used every day in passing. Still, you felt that same surge of energy at the thought. From the twists in your stomach and the stammer in your heart, you knew that if he’d asked, it would be true.

***

Bucky watched as you scurried back to the main desk, a few quick glances back over your shoulder in his direction like you were making sure he was still there. You were smiling so wide, he wondered if it ached in your cheeks. He’d never known anyone to smile as much as you did, like you had this limitless supply of joy eager to be tapped into. He couldn’t help but feel a twist in his stomach, knowing he had been able to syphon some of that joy and bring it to the surface. It was him you were smiling at. It felt like a dream.

He glanced down at the book nestled into the sleeve of his bag; a stunning ombre in shades of orange to red to black, a lone astronaut in the center – like he was floating adrift. You’d told him it was a story of survival, of the intricacies of humanity and human connection. It was funny at times and filled with science beyond your pay grade, but it was mesmerizing.

There was an unspoken hope he could read in your eyes that he might connect to the main character, Mark Watney in his search for connection, in his desperate hope to free himself from the isolation, in his resilience. You’d said Mark was an exceptional character, one with courage and determination to be admired.

Bucky wasn’t sure he could stand up to the likes of Mark Watney, but he would certainly try.

The glimmer in your eye as you spoke about the book, almost as if it were an old friend, was enough to convince him. For the first time in years, he felt the urge to read when he got home, just so he could see the look on your face in book club when you realized he’d already started it. He wanted to make you proud, wanted to see more of your smile. It was his new drive.

A few minutes later, you came jogging back up to him. Your purse hung over your shoulders, a few new books of your own tucked under your arm. You’d done more than finish your shift at the desk though, he realized, because his eyes flickered to a reflective shine on your lips, one that hadn’t been there before. You’d put on lip gloss.

His heart flipped.

“Ready?” you asked, gesturing to the doors. All bright eyes and sunshine as you looked at him.

“There’s a café called Luciana’s not too far from here. I’ve heard good things about it. Might be quiet,” Bucky offered and a flash of something unreadable crossed your features. “Do you know it?”

“I go there every Sunday before book club! It’s my favorite,” you replied, nearly skipping in your steps. “Replacing my coffee and getting it right down to the same shop? I’m impressed, Bucky.”

He chuckled, hanging his head as he followed you down the descending staircase and into the heavy flow of pedestrian traffic. He’d forgotten how busy the sidewalks could get at rush hour and the smile quickly drained from his face, though he wouldn’t let you see.

Bucky tried to focus on you as the strangers circled in around him, how you were laughing at the coincidence of it all, starting on a tangent of your favorite donuts at the shop. Your voice was like a beacon and he did his best use it as a guide.

But he could feel the quicken pace of his heart inside his chest, how it thumped through his ribs and pulsed into his head the closer strangers got to him. He swerved out of the way of a tourist who was too busy looking down at his phone to notice Bucky in his path. He kept his head down, hand clenched tightly in his jacket pocket, eyes staring at the concrete.

Teenagers were whispering behind him, snickering under their breath, and Bucky could hear the harsh ‘shhh’ of a father at wit’s end. His lungs felt tight, certain that the boys were mocking the loose sleeve hanging down by his side. He could have taken it if here were on his own. His ears would flush red and a wash of shame and embarrassment would flood his senses, but he could have taken it.

Not with you by his side. Not when you could be privy to the harsh stares and the cruel voices, the validation to a fear he’d known to be true long before he met you – that he was a broken mess of who he used to be and he would never find that sense of normalcy again. He was kidding himself into thinking that you could ever want someone like—

“Bucky?”

When he looked up at you, your smile had fallen away, replaced with concern. It must not have been the first time you called his name. He didn’t know what to say. He felt small, like a child, embarrassed that even on a good day the influx of people still rendered him to a state of panic.

“Come on,” you said quietly, glancing around to an alley off your shoulder. “Let’s take the scenic route.”

He followed gratefully, staring at your shoulder blades as you led him away from the busy hustle of the crowd and along empty side streets and residential neighborhoods. It would take longer this way, but you didn’t seem to mind. You were too busy admiring the architecture of the brownstones and the beautiful array of plants and flowers hanging along the windows. In the open space, you skipped a few paces ahead, arms out wide and twirled around, simply because you could. You laughed and it echoed up along the buildings.

Bucky could have handed you his heart right then. He could have pulled it straight from his chest and set it into your palms. He wondered if you would handle it with the tender sort of care he hoped you would. His heart was fraying and damaged, after all. It required a gentle touch.

You fell back in line with him easily and you checked to make sure the next block wasn’t too busy before you led him down another side street. He tried to ignore the voices telling him he was a burden, that his baggage was dragging heavy at your feet, but it crept to the surface no matter how many times you smiled at him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled out, willing his voice to be stronger than it felt. “I don’t know why this is such an issue for me. I was fine on the way over.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Bucky,” you said gently, slowing your pace until you came to a stop.

Bucky dragged his feet, stopping along a bush of pink hydrangeas planted outside a stunning brick townhome. From the corner of his eye, he watched as your hand reached out to him instinctively, almost in slow motion, and you only paused as you realized what you were doing and pulled back. You cleared your throat.

“I’m not ever someone you have to apologize to about this stuff, okay?” you continued with a kind of sincerity in your voice, Bucky didn’t have a choice but to believe you. The way you looked at him nearly pulled him to pieces. “It comes and goes. Waxes and wanes. There’s no fault. No blame. Just tell me if something’s wrong, so I can help. That’s all I ask.”

Were you speaking from experience? Did you know someone who had been as shattered as he was? Was it the reason Sam wanted him to ask about why you were involved with the VA to begin with?

It was quiet on the side street; the only sound the distant footsteps from traffic up ahead and the low rumble of car engines in the distance. A bird chirped from a low handing branch above.

You shoved your hands into your pockets in an effort to keep yourself from reaching for his. He was surprised at the twist in his stomach when he wished you would have tried just one more time. Maybe he could have had some courage to take it.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed, feeling a weight lift from his chest. When you smiled again it was small— a little heavy— but it touched your eyes. There was a relief in it, maybe an appreciation, too. It swept away some of the anxiety from his veins.

“Okay.” Your smile widened as you continued to walk down the sidewalk. Bucky found himself feeling a little lighter as he followed behind.

When the two of you approached the main street again along the block Luciana’s was tucked away in, Bucky didn’t feel as though he was suffocating anymore. He could sense his reflexes picking up, a subtle increase in his heart rate, but he walked a little closer to you, your hip bumping against his every so often and he found that it grounded him. It kept him firm on the surface when he felt like he was floating up into a distant unknown. He wondered if you knew the extent to which you affected him.

Luciana’s was quiet inside as Bucky jutted out ahead of you to reach for the door. A soft strum of an acoustic guitar and a Spanish speaking singer’s intricate melody hummed over the speakers. He felt a solid breath of air fill his lungs, tasting of coffee beans and fresh pastries.

“Welcome to—” a voice called from behind the counter before she paused, eyes falling on you. “Y/n!”

A woman ran out from behind the counter, dressed in a stained apron and a long, bright pink dress, and held her arms out to you. You laughed as she enveloped you to her chest.

“My darling! It is not Sunday, you know. You’re getting your days mixed up!” she exclaimed, wagging her finger at you. She didn’t even give you time to explain before she turned to Bucky, who suddenly felt a burn of heat on his face. “Ah! You finally brought me one of your boys!”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, turning to you quickly. His stomach dropped.

“She means at the VA,” you explained, a little embarrassed at her implication as you shuffled your feet, eyes darting at the floor. Bucky raised an eyebrow in realization, eyes flickering back to the woman – who he assumed to be Luciana herself – as she scurried back around the counter. He noticed then that she was wearing slippers on her feet.

“Come, come!” She called eagerly, waiting with a tapping toe at the register.

You and Bucky exchanged a glance, a breath of a laugh escaping before you stepped up to the counter. You didn’t hesitate in your order, though you took some extra time in looking over the pastries and donuts after Bucky told you to pick something out for him. You put so much thought into it, it was really quite sweet. He waited until you reached down for your purse to slip his card over the counter to Luciana.

She wore that same smile he’d seen on Mrs. Jefferson at the library. That smirk. Like they knew something he didn’t.

You heard the ring of the cash registered and looked up at him, agape. You swatted his arm without thinking twice about it and there was a comfort in that. He laughed, taking his coffee and settling in at a table by the windows as you followed behind.

As he watched you across the table, your eyes glancing out to the pedestrians as they walked back, nursing the steaming mug of coffee between your hands, that morning suddenly felt like it was a life time ago.

Had he really been paralyzed with pain, unable to move from his bed, just a few hours earlier? It felt like a century had passed in between. In a rare indulgence, Bucky let himself wonder what it would feel like to spend all his time with you; if maybe time moved so fast it swept him off his feet or if it moved slow enough to allow him to catch every second.

All he knew was that he wanted more.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic

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just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi · 3 years

Text

Found - Rudy, Mason, and Clyde

The end! Of the arc! Whooo this has been fun! Thanks to all who read. (i'm not down with them as oc's but this arc is over.)

TW: whumper as caretaker, stressed whumper/caretaker, distant whumper/caretaker, drugging tw, implied changing of clothes, implied bathing,

[Masterlist] [Stalker Arc Tag]

Mason was sitting at his desk, vigorously typing an email to the support of every social media platform he could. They weren’t giving him anything, even though he knew that they had the information. They must - companies are always doing shit like that. Tracking. Monitoring. They knew who this creep was and they were protecting them.

At this point, he was ready to get his lawyer involved if he got yet another generic-reply email.

Clyde was curled under his desk. He hadn’t done that in years, not since he was new and very attached to his new Master. Mason trained it out of him a while ago, but something about the familiar place was safe for him right now. So, Mason allowed it.

His phone rang and he reached for it automatically. There had been a lot of calls over the last couple days, and he was nearly fed up with them.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mason Driver?”

He took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It is, who is speaking?”

“Hi this is Amber from the Lakefield Pet Shelter? We have your pet here-”

Mason stood quickly, accidentally kicking Clyde in the process. “Ah, fuck, sorry bud. Is he okay? Who brought him in? Is he hurt? Where is Lakefield I want to come pick him up-”

“Sir, sir, please slow down. He’s okay, he’s got a sprained ankle and is a little roughed up in general, but he’s okay. You can come pick him up at any time, someone from the local department already came and spoke to him.”

A strange sense of anger swelled in him for a moment that someone questioned his pet without him there, but he shoved it away quickly. Other things to focus on, other things he had to do. The woman was still talking but Mason was distracted looking for his keys.

“Can I pick him up tonight? Now?”

There was a small pause. “Yes, Mr. Driver, you can come get him tonight.” After a couple other bits of information, Mason left the house to go get his pet.

Clyde crawled out from under the desk, rubbing his sore hand, a bit confused but hopeful he was understanding half the conversation correctly.

The first thing Mason felt when he saw Rudy hobble out to meet him was relief. Relief that he was back, he was safe, that he was here. Then it was anger. Anger and resentment at the brace around the boy’s ankle, the wraps around his wrists and neck, the bandaids on his face. He had to force his face to remain happy and neutral when he saw the bruise on Rudy’s temple.

“Master!” he cried, nearly falling into the kneeling man’s arms. Mason held him close, arms wrapped around.

“Rudy, thank fucking god you’re okay. I was so worried, oh my god. When I find out who took you I’m gonna-”

“Y-you, you know him, Master,” came Rudy’s muffled voice and Mason pulled him away, held tight by his shoulders.

“What?! Who, who the hell would do that? Someone that I know?”

“It was C-Casey, Master.”

Mason’s face grew grave, clenching his teeth. He should have fucking known. Of course, of fucking course Casey would pull some shit like this. Obviously Mason had called out of work, didn’t care what was going on back at the office during the few days Rudy was gone.

Rudy whimpered and Mason released his right grip. “Oh, I’m sorry Sweetheart. God, that fucking snake. I’m going to ruin his whole goddamn life, just wait and see if I don’t completely blacklist him. He’ll never fucking work with pets again.”

“Sir,” hinted one of the workers, reminding Mason of the other people in the lobby. He didn’t care.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.”

The worker nodded and gestured for them to come up to the counter. “He’s ready to go, just need to go over some paperwork and at home care for the other injuries.”

Rudy pressed himself into Mason side as the man’s brow furrowed. “Other injuries? What happened?”

“He’s a little bit dehydrated, but that should go away in a day or two. The bandages around his wrists and neck are to keep him at scratching at the healing skin, so you’ll need to keep those and on use this ointment that’s listed here. Same for the welts on his back. His ankle is sprained but not too badly, so follow up with your regular provider for that. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

Mason swallowed and signed the forms without another word, not trusting himself to say something he’d regret. Besides, it wasn’t their fault.

On the way out, he was already calling his lawyer to get every medical expense taken out of Casey - money or blood.

Clyde was at the door, bouncing at his heels as the key turned. He had been looking out the window, saw when they pulled up. Saw when Rudy got out of the car! He was limping but he was there. He was home.

The older pet nearly knocked him over as they came through the door. Mason had to grab him by the back of his collar to drag him off.

“Clyde! Back! You know better what the hell,” Mason muttered, setting him down on the ground a foot or two away. Clyde looked up at him, clearly wanting to go back to Rudy. Mason rubbed his temples, too tired and frustrated and betrayed to deal with this.

“Room.”

Both boys whimpered, Rudy tugging on the hem of Mason’s shirt to silently plead him not to. “Now, Clyde. He’s fine. Just go upstairs so you’re not underfoot.”

Clyde gave him such wide, hurt, miserable eyes that Mason nearly took it all back. He sighed, but held firm. He said what he said and Clyde needed to obey that. With another glance back at his friend. Clyde crept up the stairs. Rudy whined after him over Mason's shoulder as the man picked him up and carried him to the living room to set him on the couch.

The boy whimpered as Mason walked away, but quieted after a shush.

Mason stood in the kitchen, holding onto the counter and stared at the tile backsplash. Why was this so hard? Rudy was back, he was going to be fine, the police found Casey and his lawyer said his case was good over the phone. He shouldn’t feel so tense, so tight-wound and anxious. The boy was right out there - why couldn’t Mason accept it?

He rubbed a hand across his short stubble and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, along with a drink for Rudy. He just needed time, he guessed. Needed to sleep, and probably eat something, and he’d calm down. Meandering back into the living room, he texted his boss that he was taking some personal time off.

Rudy was curled up on against the armrest, tears bright in his eyes. Mason regretted snapping at him, at both of them, but it would pass. They probably wouldn’t even remember tomorrow.

“Hey bud, drink up. How are you feeling, are you hurting?” He asked as he opened the lid for him.

The boy grabbed the bottle and took a sip, nodding slowly. “I, I’m okay.” His lip was quivering, breath shallow and shaky.

��I missed you,” he confessed as he broke, reaching up for Mason who immediately sat down with him. “I m-missed you s-so much, and Clyde, and h-home, I wanted to get away. I was so scared and c-confused and he was mean and hurt me and-”

Mason shushed him gently, pulling him close and petting his hair. “I know, I know Sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened - I promise, it will never happen again.”

“He wrote on m-my, my scan-y thing,” Rudy said, itching at the side of his shirt. “And, and he took my collar and made me wear a muzzle that cut my mouth and I didn’t eat because- because I just couldn’t and-”

Mason shushed him again, and this time took his drink so he could really lay the boy down. Poor thing was spiraling, clearly over-stressed and exhausted too. “Shh, Rudy, you need to relax. You’re okay.”

“-he, he made me so confused, Master,” Rudy continued, seemingly unable to stop confessing everything that had happened. “I-I know I belonged to you, because, because of m-my collar and my chip but he made me wear his collar and I started to get confused and forget and uh, hng, I, I think I might have called him Master once and I’m sorry! He wasn’t always bad and one time he pet my hair and I tried to struggle but I didn’t that time and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay woah bud you need to slow down. You’re okay, you don’t have to talk about all this right now. I know, I know.” A pause as Mason thought. “Do I need to get something to calm you down?”

“I think I was bad?” Rudy started again, rubbing his eyes and hiccuping. He wasn’t listening to what Mason was saying, which was a kind of answer in itself. He was just more convinced of his choice as when he stood, the boy kept muttering confessions to himself. He’d have to re-visit some training in the next couple days, he reconned, just to correct some thoughts that asshole had implanted.

Rudy took the pill unusually well, words petering out until he was quiet. Mason rubbed his head just the way he knew the boy loved, listening to the unconscious hums of contentment.

“Lets get you to bed early tonight, hm? We’ll deal with all this in the morning.”

He seemed much heavier, now that he was out of it. Mason still got him upstairs, sat him on the bathroom counter to clean him up a little. It also gave him a better chance to see Rudy’s injuries without the boy wiggling and squirming everywhere.

It made his blood boil.

He had seen worse, he had definitely seen worse just walking down the street but that didn’t fucking matter. Rudy was his, and he had not given permission for someone to treat his pet like this. The muzzle had clearly been too tight, chafing and rubbing the sides of his face raw. Same for the collar, and the scratch marks from where Rudy had been clearly trying to get it off. Bruises on his hands and knees, what seemed like a bit of blood in his hair.

Mason cleaned him up the best he could, until the only proof left visible were the bandages and bandaids. He changed those, too, to some colorful ones he had for the boys. Rudy would like those better when he was awake.

After changing him into his pajamas, Mason carried him to his own bedroom and put him on the bed. He sighed and went to go get Clyde.

Clyde was in his room, standing in his pajamas right by the door. The boy had obviously been crying, gently cradling his bruised hand. Mason picked it up carefully, examining it.

“Shit, did I do that, Bugs?” he said, convicted. Clyde didn’t really answer him, eyes glancing from him to the door repeatedly. Mason sighed with a tired smile.

“Yeah, go see him.”

In a flash the boy was gone, down the hall to be with his friend. Mason turned the light off in their room before he went to join them.

Finally, back together. As they should be.

tag: @whumpingredroses @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee @whumpeesblog @suspicious-whumping-egg

#whump #pet whump #stalker arc: rudy and clyde #whumper as caretaker #bad caretaker #cold caretaker #drugging tw

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slashersins · 4 years

Note

hi! could you possibly do the masked slashers taking off their mask for the first time in front of their s/o? perhaps jason and michael and/or whoever else you want! thank you! 🥰

sad story . i was almost finished with this ask when my computer reset and i lost everything . i am very sad , and trying my best to rewrite it .

hi! could you possibly do the masked slashers taking off their mask for the first time in front of their s/o? perhaps jason and michael and/or whoever else you want! thank you! 🥰

jason

his face . . . his deformities . it’s the reason he was bullied at camp . it’s the reason he was chased down the pier and shoved into the unforgiving lake . it’s the reason he heard laughter as he tried desperately to thrash his way to the surface . it’s the reason water filled his lungs . it’s the reason he drowned . the reason he died . so it’s no wonder that jason wants to hide that part of himself . the part that caused him so much pain and suffering .

jason is so very aware of his current state . he’s been half alive , half dead . a corpse , powerful and deadly and vengeful for years now . and time hadn’t been kind to him . the deformities that once marred his face have been changed . everything has changed about him , leaving him feeling as if his entire body is marred , and it is . he knows you can see it . the truth of his undead state . his skin a pale blue grey . his blood thick and slow moving , black as it oozes out of him . part of his left side has been eaten away , showing his ribs . injuries he’s received leaving deep , lasting impression into his slow healing body . he isn’t human . not anymore . he knows this . he knows you know this . you’ve seen him and stayed with him despite him being a moving corpse .

but his face . . . his face is different . long gone are the deformities that once marred his features . changed and warped into something he would find even more terrifying . you’ve told him so many times that you don’t mind how he is . that you love him besides it . but with a face that is mostly bone , strings of muscle and blue grey flesh keeping his jaw connected , how could you ever stay with him ? he was scared . terrified of what your reaction would be . he’s a monster . a monster with barely half a face .

it takes so long for him to finally take off the mask . and his shoulders slump , already defeated , already preparing to hear you scream and run and curse him . ready for you to see him as the monster he is . undead . unlovable . he doesn’t look you in the eyes . he looks down , not raising his head as his arm drops weakly to his side , the mask gripped harshly in his hand . he doesn’t realize that he’s shaking . so scared of your reaction .

the feeling of your warm hands cupping his jaw , those delicate fingers tracing over the bone , over his exposed teeth , over the flesh part of his upper cheek . the way you lift his head , looking over him , trying to find his eyes , trying to get him to look at you . you didn’t run . you didn’t scream . you stayed . still cupping his face as you whisper his name , wanting his attention . he’s slow to meet your eyes , but what he finds there has tears welling up , spilling over his broken face and your fingers . he finds love . so much love . so much acceptance . he can’t hold himself back now as he tugs you in , wrapping his arms around you . your forehead pressed to his as you whisper how much you love him , mask or no mask .

what he found in your eyes as you looked up him shattered him completely . he found that he was beautiful .

thomas

his skin condition hadn’t been bad . looking back at the very few pictures there were of thomas as a child confirmed that . it was obvious that there was something medically wrong , but nothing . . . dramatic . but the condition that thomas had wasn’t able to be treated . his family was poor , barely making ends meet each week . so thomas was not able to get the medical attention he needed that could had stopped the spread of his condition . there were no medicated creams to help heal blackened , dry skin . no pills to take that aided his body in healing . so it got worse . and worse . and people were cruel . and thomas found no sympathy for something he couldn’t control .

he was likened to a monster . a freak . diseased and dangerous . contagious almost . and he heard it from a very young age . he couldn’t help his looks . he didn’t know why people laughed , until they called him ugly . he didn’t know why people gasped in fear , until they called him scary . and being told this over , and over , and over , and over . . . he started to believe it . he was ugly . he was scary . a monster . a freak . hiding his face behind his hands , behind a mask , it made things easier for him , but that self hatred that lingered deep inside of himself only grew and grew .

thomas won’t take off his mask . he prefers to hide behind it . he doesn’t want to risk you seeing his face . to see how bad its gotten . he’s ugly . he is so ugly . and he doesn’t want you to see it . he doesn’t want you to change your mind . asking him to take off his mask has him flinching like you burned him . he’ll get up and stomp off , upset and hurt and self conscious . no , y/n . you can’t see . he can’t show you . he can’t bare to lose you . and he knows he loves you so much that he wouldn’t be able to let you go . and that would make him even more monstrous , wouldn’t it ?

the first time you see his face is an accident . it happens after passionate love making . the ties of his mask slipping and moving . he’s nuzzling into your neck , pressing kisses over sweat slick skin as he pulls up to look at you . oh , he loves to look at you as you come down from your pleasure . he doesn’t notice that his mask has slipped off . instead he’s too focused on staring down at you with adoration .

your eyes widen as you see what he’s been hiding from you . and he thinks the look in your eyes just you coming down , he doesn’t realize it’s from seeing him for the first time . he sighs softly when curious fingers filter over his lips , his cheeks . closing his eyes as he melts into your touch . he’s never felt your fingers on the ruined parts of his face before and -

thomas is grabbing your wrists suddenly . eyes wide as he looks to the side of your head and sees his mask . he panics , he’s sitting up , blindly grabbing for his mask as he hides his face in his hand . he’s shaking , panting , terror and fear breaking him down .

reach out to him . sit up and touch his back softly , rubbing slow circles there . oh , tommy . how could he think you love him any less because of his face ? kiss his back , his shoulders . wrap you arms around him . tell him how much you love him . that it’s okay . that it’s just a face . his face . the face of the man you love . and you love him for his face and despite it . hold him as he calms down . as he breaks and cries . as he’s reminded of the depth of your love and he basks in it .

bubba

bubba doesn’t see himself as ugly . fears of his face scaring others isn’t the reason he wears a mask . even all drayton’s yelling and shouting and cursing at him doesn’t make him feel ugly , it makes him feel stupid and useless . which is just as bad . so his masks have before kind of a buffer from that kind of abuse . they act more like a safety blanket . something to protect him from the outside world , from other people . the world is cruel and mean and dangerous . and he wants to feel safe .

his masks also work as tools of self expression , as an extension of himself . he has so many different ones for different moods and feelings depending on the day . you’ve counted at least seven so far , seeing some more than others . and while you loved bubba , you can’t help but be curious .

it starts innocently enough , just simply asking if you can see bubba without a mask on . sadly , the reaction you get isn’t what you hoped . bubba seems to panic . worried babbling and soft whines and violently shaking his head no . why would you want to take his mask off ? why ? were you going to hurt him ? were you going to be mean ? he didn’t want to take it off , he didn’t feel safe without it . why would you , the person he loves so much , want to make him feel unsafe ?

he is going to be worried , keeping away from you and even hiding for a day or two . give him some time . tell him you’re sorry , and that you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings . smother him in kisses and love and affection and all those worries will melt away . he’ll be back to his normal bubba self before you know it , even it if means you don’t get your curiosity fix .

the day you see his face is well . . . normal . simple . unexpected . lazing in your shared bed , reading a book , you only glance up and smile when bubba bounces into the room with barely contained excitement . you can’t help but smile as he goes through the closet and takes out his favorite dress . a little flowy blue number with yellow flowers and only the smallest of blood stains on the hem . bubba was feeling pretty today , you could tell . and gosh you loved seeing him so happy like this .

watching him from behind your book , enjoying this little moment of bubba , you stilled when he took off his mask . he wasn’t looking at you , no , he wasn’t even paying attention as he went through his many masks to find his pretty one . you were in shock . staring at his maskless features , taking in the true face of your loving country man . and you watched , even as he put on his other mask , the bright colors of make up on leathered skin clashing with his blue dress . but he turned and beamed at you , twirling and showing off . you could only laugh and compliment him . you hadn’t expected to see his real face , but you knew right here and right now that it really didn’t matter . you loved bubba masked or maskless . maybe you loved him more when he could express himself like this ,

brahms

he hadn’t wanted to wear a mask . to be completely honest he never even thought about it . it was his mother’s idea . coming from the fact that she couldn’t stand to see her son’s fire marred face . and brahms found out the truth after a tantrum was thrown about the mask , and his mother let this truth harshly fly out . he’d been devastated . his own mother didn’t want to see him . thought he was ugly . it’d been a painful experience . one that he kept close to his heart . he wasn’t the beautiful little boy his mother and father had once loved . now he was shameful and dirtied and kept hidden away . and he never took the mask off because of it .

that shame , that fear , that hatred of the ‘ ugly ’ part of himself is what keep his mask on once he’s out of the walls . you loved brahms the doll , the porcelain face it had . so it only made sense to him that you’d love him , brahms the man , and his porcelain face . he doesn’t think you’d love him as much if he took the mask off . his own mother came to hate his scars . you would too . he just knows it . so he stays hidden . as much as he can .

he won’t take the mask off in one go . it’s slow . it comes in moments . more and more of brahms’ face being shown to you . it starts when he wants a good night kiss . a real one . on his lips . he’s so shy about it . nervous fingers lifting the mask up just enough that you have access . and once he takes the slightest of kisses , he’s pulling his mask back down . he’ll revel in the feeling and soon want more real kisses . outside of the good night ones . soon he’ll want more than just those quick small kisses , he’ll want more . and when he gets them his mask is pressed up further , over his nose . he tries so hard to keep the mask on , but it’s hard when you’re so addictive . the first time you see brahms for all he is , his half fire marred face standing out in the moon light is the first time you give all of yourself to him . he’ll still wear the mask , taking it off only for sexy times , and even then not always , or when he needs to bathe . but he won’t be as scared , he won’t flinch away when you reach out to touch his face . he knows you won’t leave him . you’ve had every chance to and you stayed . and maybe , just maybe , he feels like he isn’t as hideous as his mother made him believe he was .

michael

you don’t get a choice on when this happens . you don’t get to ask . he’ll ignore you . or worse he’ll make it so you don’t ask him again . if he doesn’t want to take his mask off , he won’t . the entire reason he wears it is because it’s a comfort . like he’s in his own little world . no one can read him , or try to , there’s no pressing eyes of doctors and nurses looking for any twitch of muscle to over analyse . he feels strangely safe , strangely right , with his mask on . it’s the control he has with it on . no one knows who he is , what he truly looks like , and yet everyone knows who he is . it’s that fear , the fear of his prey not knowing , but knowing who and what he is .

michael doesn’t take off the mask . not when he sleeps . not when he showers . not during the moments when you two are doing . . . things . the closest thing you’ve ever seen of his face are those moments when you look up too soon from eating just in time to see him pull his mask down over his mask when he’s finished .and even then he glares at you for staring . irritated that you might have seen something , that you might have seen him .

it’s safe to say that you do not at all expect for a freshly cleaned and laundered michael to suddenly appear next to you while you were curled up on the couch watching tv . you didn’t even hear the shower go on or off . you hadn’t even heard him enter the house . turning with a half smile , startled at such a sudden appearance , you opened your mouth to welcome michael back home only to shout in shock as who was sat next to you .

instead of the masked man was . . . well a man . his face turned to the tv , but his eyes watching you in a sideways glance . there wasn’t any movement , michael stiff as you had your shock . he didn’t offer anything , just turning his gaze back to the tv . it takes a few minutes for it to settle in . for you to realize that this was michael . and you looked awed . your fingers twitching to reach out and touch him , but you know better . michael had already nearly broken your wrist once for simply touching over his mask before . as happy as you were to see his real face , you really wished michael would of chosen a gentler way of showing you .

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falling-pages · 3 years

Text

A bird? A bird: Hikaru x Haruhi

in which drunk Hikaru is a mood.

Hikaru Hitachiin x Haruhi Fujioka

Enemies to lovers, non-host club au, aged up au.

TW: Drinking

The disgust lingered in the back of his throat like iron, like a bad pill you swallow but not fast enough. He fumbled the chaser to his liquor, and now he was stuck with the gross aftertaste. The refuge of his office, where he gulped down air like water, could only last so long. He couldn’t even go out in the common area, break room or restroom without having to see her--and for that, for taking away his freedom and social butterfly antics, he hated her.

Every time he saw her cute little snarl and tight little bun and stiff black skirts enraged him, filling his blood with a heat he didn’t know how to deal with. Despite her short height, she held her nose in the air as she worked, the only way she could look down on everyone like she so desperately craved. Always propping up her law degree, well this and actually that, ruining any jokes he made with a deadpan stare. She messed with his head, distracted him from his work, and for that she must go.

As much as he had tried to get her fired--and he had tried--nothing made the boss budge. He tried pulling rank, as the head of the software department; he tried using his parents’ names; nothing worked.

She’s doing a stellar job, the bossman had said. And, she’s our lawyer. If we did fire her for no reason, she would sue us into the ground.

I do have a reason, Hikaru retorted. She annoys me.

It wouldn’t hold up in court, but it seemed good enough for him.

Hikaru inhaled deeply through his nose, grounding himself by gripping his desk. Surrounded by all his trophies and achievements, he still could only think of her. He had to handle this, or else he’d go insane, but he had no idea where to start.

Kaoru. Kaoru would know what to do.

He rose from his chair, taking one last look behind him at the stained glass city through his clear glass window. Despite it only being mid-afternoon, the city was pulsing and alive with color, birds dive-bombing for food, vendors hawking at passersby, tourists mixing and bumping into natives. Tokyo was loud, and crazy, and alive, where he knew he belonged and longed to be. Even nature was straining at its leash for the workday to end, eager to celebrate the Friday night.

He turned back and shut the lights off in his office, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. His department was rather quiet, having given his employees the afternoon off. If Haruhi knew, she would chide him, but they were so far ahead of schedule that he couldn’t risk them burning out.

Once up the stairs and around the corner, he heard his brother’s voice laughing and chatting and speak of the devil, she’s here.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Karou and Haruhi were surprisingly great friends; he tended to mellow her out, help her unwind from the stick up her ass. He just had that calming effect on people.

As soon as he saw her, Hikaru spun a 180 and turned right back around the corner, and Haruhi would have let him, but Karou intervened.

“Hika! Come over here!” he waved, a bright smile splitting his face. “Haruhi was just telling me how much she liked you!”

Haruhi seethed, switching to a guarded pose as soon as she saw him. “I certainly was not.”

“Oh, right, my bad, she was telling me how much she liked your latest game patch,” Kaoru apologized, but it was the furthest thing from sincere. “Tell us about how you came up with it. Haruhi would love to pick your brain.”

Hikaru smirked, testing the waters as he approached. “Is that true, Fujioka?”

She frowns, pushing her bridge up her glasses up her nose. God, those glasses. She looked so dumb in them, making her eyes seem so wide, so innocent, so...pretty. All he wanted to do was pluck them off her face and laugh as she jumped for them, reaching and whining.

“I mean, it’s original, for sure,” she said. His cheeks warmed at the praise, even as she squirmed. “And it should market well, and you didn’t infringe on anyone’s copyright this time.”

That wasn’t my fault. He took the compliment with a grain of salt, biting back, “Still in the whole get-up, I see. Not much for casual Fridays?”

As amber eyes raked down her body, Haruhi concealed the shiver that ran down her spine. “No, actually, because I didn’t go to law school to wear jeans every day at work.”

“You didn’t go to law school to become a smartass, either, but here we are.”

“OKAY!” Kaoru exclaimed, jumping up between them. “Friday afternoon, yeah? Any big plans for the weekend?”

Both instigators ignored him. “That’s the uniform, you know. We tend to be pretty laid back around here.”

“Lawyers can’t be laid back. Laziness and a laissez-faire attitude is how we get sued.”

Hikaru stretched, rolling his eyes. “Woah, woah, pardon your French.”

Haruhi shook her head, and a few mismanaged strands of hair fell from her bun to brush against her neck. Her pink lips perched in contempt, and she looked so fragile, squinting behind her thick-framed glasses, that he couldn’t help but notice how tight her shirt was, tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged so tastefully over her--

“Hika!” Kaoru suddenly exclaimed. “Honey wants to know if we’re still down for drinks tonight.”

His saving grace. “Oh, my God, yes,” he moaned, salivating already at the thought of tequila burning down his throat. Washing the week away was just what he needed, especially with the way this conversation was going.

And then Kaoru did the unthinkable: With his award-winning smile, he turned to Haruhi and asked, “Would you like to come?”

Hikaru could have strangled him.

But God heard his prayers, and the resident buzzkill shook her head. “Thank you, but sorry. I don’t drink.”

“No surprise there,” Hikaru murmured.

Kaoru definitely heard that, but if Haruhi did, she didn’t react. He shot his twin a look, a be polite etched into the lines of his brow.

“Sad,” Kaoru said. He bent over to pick up his work bag, stuffing his bento within and waving to Haruhi. “Maybe next time? We can go out for boba or something.”

Haruhi smiled--Hikaru didn’t think he had ever seen that before. It did something to him; suddenly, he felt as if his body was shaking, like his throat was full of needles, like he had taken one too many to the head.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and the smile disappeared when she looked at him. She gave them both a quick nod. “Have a great weekend.”

“Thanks.”

“See you Monday!”

Hikaru waited until they were out the door before punching his twin in the arm, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Dude, watch it,” Kaoru snapped, brushing over the mussed fabric of his cardigan sleeve. “It’s cashmere.”

“Stop flirting with her.”

Kaoru stopped in his tracks. A cloudy sky obscured the smirk on his face. “Woah, what’s got you so worked up?”

Hikaru kept stomping towards their subway stop, too lost in his own anger to notice who he had left behind. “‘M not worked up,” he retorted. “But you’re dating Kyoya. You shouldn’t be flirting with a girl.”

Kaoru skipped to catch up, joining him as they descended the stairs. “Kyoya said it’s fine if I flirt, as long as I come home to him every night.”

It took everything in Hikaru to keep him from shoving his brother into the sad, drab gray stone walls. He couldn’t put a finger on the irritation nettling just below his skin, or why the first layer of his heart seemed to simmer whenever he caught them talking to each other. All he could figure out was that it burned, and it made him hate her even more.

When he stayed silent, Kaoru knew he was right. He preened as he dug around for his subway card. “Boba isn’t a date.”

“Of course it is.”

“Then maybe you should ask her out on one.”

By then they were at the platform, waiting for their train. As the whistle signaled its approach, Hikaru very seriously considered pushing Kaoru onto the tracks.

“Tch. Over my dead body.”

“Then you can’t be jealous.”

“I’m not--”

Hikaru threw a punch when the train approached, distracting him and allowing Kaoru to live to see another day. As they hurried on, Hikaru couldn’t get his mind out of the gutter--or off her.

Jealous. Pshhh.

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

“I dunno, senpai, she just….she makes me feel something. Whenever she talks to me it’s like my hands are on fire, and my head hurts, and I feel like….like she’s stabbing me. There’s something going on in my chest, like a, like a--a bird. There’s a bird or a butterfly or something with wings in my stomach, and I don’t like it.”

Hikaru knocked back a shot and signaled for another one, eyes bleary as he tried to find the bartender. There were three of them, or maybe that was just how blurry his vision was, but he didn’t care; as long as one of them saw him and passed him another round, he’d tip them the moon.

Mitsukuni watched his friend wave to no one, the effect of one too many fireballs in the span of just two hours. He hadn’t seen Hikaru this hammered since college--and now, at 27, it just looked more like a cry for help than an occasion to let loose. And without Kaoru, who had already gone home with Kyoya and the rest of their friend group, on babysitting duty, Mitsukuni was the one left to make sure he got into a cab.

“A bird?” he asked, watching as Hikaru swung his head in confirmation.

“A bird.” A bartender came back with another shot, handing it to the redhead and giving Mitsukuni a questioning look. He waved at him, confirming he was the babysitter, and the waiter turned back around.

“Tell me about that.”

Hikaru gripped his cup, tonguing at the rim like a sippy cup. “It’s fluttering around, Honey. It’s--hiccup--like, moving. Whenever I see her or talk to her my heart just begins to pound.”

Mitsukuni bit back a smile. His vodka cran lay forgotten on the bar, but this experience was just too amusing to violate with alcohol. “And what do you think that means?”

“Means she’s gonna kill me.”

“Kill you?” His eyebrows shot up. “Why is that?”

Hikaru slurped the shot, spilling some down his chin, and Mitsukuni was fairly sure it was just plain water. “Because. She’s mean, senpai. She looks at me like she’s studying, like she’s gonna slice me in half. Like...I dunno. Like I mean something to her.”

Mistukuni twisted his wedding ring, inching closer to the discovery. He’s almost there, almost recognizing what the rest of the friend group has known for months. “And if you mean something to her, why does your heart flutter?”

“Acid reflux.”

“No, Hikaru.” He gently swatted the other man’s hand down before he could ask for another drink. “It sounds like the beginnings of love, to me.”

Hikaru gaped, not a thought behind those eyes, until it hit him like a wrecking ball. His fist fell to the bar, thudding, but he felt no pain. Only existential dread and a rocketing realization.

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck.”

If you like what I write, please considering buying a coffee :)

#ouran high school host club #hikaru x haruhi #hikaharu #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #enemies to lovers #ohshc

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missmewts · 3 years

Text

prodigy//harry gardener

pairings; harry gardener, she/her reader

rating; pg13

warnings; some harsh language, gendered reader (only because i'm obsessed with the idea of a really powerful woman), proofread very poorly. expect mistakes!

the widow in white and the widow wears red is just a little folk-tale type story that i've been adding to since i was young. there is no actual series, just a little thing that sprouted from my imagination a while ago. also this is more so a bit of an introduction. it may require a part two to include actual harry-on-reader action.

harry had rushed over under the impression that there was some type of emergency. 'CIME NOW!!' was what austin had texted him. he had scrambled to start the car, speeding all the way down to austin's place. however, when he slammed the door open with his shoulder and took three steps at a time, austin was lounging comfortably on the couch, brandy in hand.

you don't have to be a rocket scientist to know that harry was pissed. 'what the hell was that?? are you fucking insane!?'

austin laughed at that, adjusting his blood-colored button up; harry almost laughed. it was so vampire-y that it hurt; blood red button up. tight on the stomach, loose on the sleeves, and a corset-like lace in place of buttons. harry collapsed into the recliner across from him, watching austin put his book aside and fold one leg over the other, his dangling foot tapping his ankle.

' 'course i am. i thought we've established this, hot stuff.' harry rubbed his face, inhaling slowly to soothe his pounding heart. 'okay. okay, well- what.. what was so important that you couldn't have just told me over the phone?' austin bubbled out a bright laugh, resting his arm on the back of the couch. 'well, hare-bear,' he said, grabbing the book he was reading with his free hand.

he placed his finger between the pages he was reading, closing the hard cover over his fingers to show harry the front. 'there's someone i want you to meet.' harry scoffed, standing up and snatching austin's drink. 'and you couldn't have just told me over the phone?' austin raised a dark eyebrow as harry took a drink.

'well, it's only the greatest artist on the pill.' harry laughed sarcastically. 'haha, austin. you're so funny.' austin grinned. he tapped the name of the author on the velvet-y print taped into the hardcover. 'y/n l/n', it said.

'seriously. she took the pill, and boom. a book, and it's sequel. 'the widow in white' and 'the widow wears red'.' harry rolled his eyes, sitting next to austin and holding out his hand. austin dog-earred his page and shut it, handing it over. 'what's so impressive about that?' harry asked, flipping to the back to read the summary.

'two weeks. that's all it took.' austin said, leaning on the outside of his thigh to read over his shoulder. 'only after her book had hit 19 million sales, and had been translated into over 300 different languages, did she continue on with her career.' harry hummed his acknowledgement. it took him less than that to finish his tv series. so what?

'she made two movie adaptations for her books. screenwrote, directed, and casted. she casted herself as the widow in white, athena.' harry nodded, handing austin his book back. 'lin manuel miranda wrote his own musicals, and casted himself as the lead, too.' he said, crossing his arms and folding his legs, his ankle rested on his knee.

'she then made a spinoff series, the darkness becomes her. three seasons. created, wrote, casted, produced, directed. starred.' austin took his book, uncrossing his legs and standing up to put the book back on the bookshelf. he began speaking while he nudged several more of your works out of the way to put book one back in its respective place. 'then, came the diverse adaptations. musicals, plays, modern twists. hundreds of millions of followers on every social media platform. her fan base only grew when she put out more content for different people regarding the same thing. some people prefer books, some prefer movies. some, tv shows, and some musicals.'

harry made a small noise to encourage austin to keep going. his mind was going 70 miles per hour. possibly doris had heard of you? austin eased your musical soundtrack cd back into its spot, before grabbing his glass from harry and refilling it. he stood at the island, grabbing the mixer from the overhead cabinet hanging in the center of the ceiling. he had to talk louder, but harry got up to listen anyway.

'and guess how long that took her, harry.' harry made his impatience known with a loud sigh. 'i don't know. five years.' austin looked up from his glass with a grin. 'nine. months.'

harry's irritation faded. 'nine.. nine months?' austin nodded. 'now, belle and i, we take the muse during the winter. take summers off.' harry nodded, leaning against the counter. 'she takes it year round. we told her she shouldn't, but hey. look where she is now! the greatest artist i've ever had the pleasure of jumpstarting. she mentioned me in every single one of her award speeches. she won fifteen.' harry laughed breathlessly. 'you're lying.' austin laughed. 'nope! and what's better, she's coming back to ol' p-town to gather some new inspiration for her new series.'

harry followed austin as he headed for the living room. 'how much did she make off of those widow stories alone? it's gotta be.. in.. in the millions, right?' austin cast him a cheeky grin. '31 million, 700 hundred, 63. that's how much she made off of the books before she started the adaptations.' harry laughed breathlessly, again. 'that's... that's unbelievable. if she's so popular, why have i never heard of her?' austin waves a finger.

'her stories are more aimed for... women, younger crowds. i have the works of every career i've had the pleasure of partaking in. but.. but her? she's... a prodigy. think of it like this; you know who stephen king is?' harry nodded. 'been a fan.'

'well, imagine that you had never read a book. or seen a movie of his. you wouldn't have a goddamn idea who he is. it's the same thing with her. same with any author. j.k. rowling? as much as i hate the bitch, i've read all her books. she's a great author. had i not grown up on harry potter? i wouldn't know who the fuck she is. maybe your wife has read a book or two. you should ask her.' austin swirls the sweet liquid courage in his cup, before taking a sip.

and so, harry drove home, repeating the name he had seen on the book over, and over. when he got home, doris was in the kitchen. she greeted him, but he shouted out the only thing he could think of. 'l/n!!'

doris gave him a confused smile. 'what?' she asked, as he grabbed his laptop and plopped on the couch. 'y/n l/n. do we have any of her stuff? books, movies?' doris' face brightened. she waddled over to the stairs. 'do we have any of her stuff,' she repeated, hurrying up the stairs as fast as her swollen ankles would allow.

harry took that as a yes.

he threw open in laptop and logged in, saving what work he had left off on and pulling up google. his fingers moved rapidly trying to remember the correct letters. he typed it in wrong, but his trusty search engine didn't let him down. up came trailers for movies, interviews, book readings, musical bootlegs, a youtube channel, social media pages, and award speeches. he allowed the award speech to engulf his screen.

the first sound was clapping, what felt like the equivalent to fireworks. the shaky camera focused on the stage as someone stepped up the staircase. it took a few moments to quiet the audience down, but soon, the speech began. the camera zoomed in when it did. and what he saw was breathtaking. smooth skin, glistening with sweat from the lights, the body heat, and the many eyes focused. hair tied in a low bun, and pitch black gloss painting your lips. he thought the black tuxedo you wore looked fabulous. he hardly paid any attention to the speech. he was waiting for the announcement of austin sommers.

'and finally,' you have a gentle, breathless laugh as you took her another breath to stable yourself. 'austin sommers, whom i consider my dad in this buisness, really. it was austin who put me on the right track. i owe everything i have to him. thank you, austin. thank you guys!' and the audience erupted in more cheers and shrieks. he shut the laptop, turning to look at doris, who was now heading for the living room with a small stack.

'why are we suddenly obsessed with her?' doris asked, rounding the couch and sitting down, placing the two books, two movies, and spinoff dvd between her and her husband. 'well, you remember austin.' doris nodded. 'uh-huh.'

'austin said he helped jumpstart her career. i-i mean, you saw how his help effected her. and- and, doris,' harry leaned forward with a grin. 'doris, he's helping me. can you imagine what this could do for us?' doris' smile widened. 'i'll make popcorn.' she said, as she handed him the first dvd case.

he knew he wasn't going to eat it, but he appreciated the sentiment.

the dvd case had a woman in a beautiful wedding dress kneeling on a dirty floor, before a creature. the light cast only over the back of the woman's dress, but it seemed like some sort of pig creature with horns and wings, of which were outstretched to look like wings sprouting from the woman.

it wasn't like anything harry had seen before. doris had burst into tears several times, and was fast asleep by the time the movie finished. he moved doris' head off of his shoulder and down into a couch pillow, taking your material with him. with alma fast asleep upstairs and doris dozing on the couch, he popped a pill and spent the next hours he had to himself speed-reading through the books. the pages seemed slightly stained, old. when he opened the second book, he realized that it was supposed to be that way. to resemble a piece of parchment back then. he picked up his phone to message austin.

i'll meet her.

#harry gardener #ahs red tide #american horror story red tide #american horror story double feature #finn wittrock #austin sommers #fanfic #harry gardener x reader #ahs #american horror story

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sarcastic-nebula · 3 years

Text

Humor Me

Today was one of those rare times when nothing needed to be done for the war. No shipping out, no briefings, not even a surprise Separatist attack had taken over the week’s schedule. Nevertheless, your job as a civilian mechanic for the 501st Legion raged on. While the men got some much deserved rest, you and the other civilian volunteers carried on as usual. Fixing faulty blasters, repairing damaged ships, and helping out where help was needed.

As much as you enjoyed working like an ant, doing her part for the colony, you really didn’t want to today. A headache pounded its way through your temples, making concentration for extended periods of time difficult. You weren’t even sure how it started; you were pretty sure you drank enough water and that you’d eaten that day, and that you got more than six hours of sleep. Since there was no reason for stress, that could not be the problem. Apparently, you would just have to deal with it. The bottle of simple painkillers taunted you from the refresher. You wanted to save those for when you truly needed them….but this headache was so bad, so you went ahead and swallowed two before heading to the mess hall to start the day.

Even after eating, and once the pain medicine kicked in, your headache remained there. How and why, you honestly didn’t know. What you did know was that you were nearly done repairing a blaster. Setting aside the finished product, you glanced at the still-too-many blasters to also take care of. Everyone else was busy at their own station with droids, and tech, and whatever, so you took a moment to close your eyes and relax, which helped with the head pain ever so slightly. Enough to notice the difference once you opened your eyes and groan internally at more work to do. You took a deep breath, and grabbed the next lucky blaster that needed fixing.

Now, could it be the wiring, the trigger, or something else? You ignored the now constant presence of the headache, which seemed to have slowly grown in intensity over the course of the day. You didn’t think to bring the pain pills with you, and you also thought lunch, time, and water would have helped. You were continuously proven wrong. A-ha! The ammunition junction! Immediately, you closed your eyes again and breathed. The realization of the problem with the blaster sent a strong strike of pain throughout your head. When it didn’t ease up right away, you set the blaster and the tool you held onto your worktable. It just wouldn’t stop for the love of kriff.

That’s it. Once you opened your eyes, you slowly got up and walked over to the officer overseeing the civvie volunteers, Miss Tari Mirius. Once you reached her desk, she looked up, and silently bade you to speak.

“Miss, is it alright if I turn in for the day? I have a headache that is making it difficult to concentrate, and I really don’t think-“

“(Y/N), you don’t need to worry about excuses. Things are so calm right now, I don’t blame you for wanting to get some rest. Do you need to see a medic, or need someone to stay with you?” Your boss’ quick understanding and thoughtful question made you do a double take, but then again, you rarely ask for things like this…or anything in general.

“No- no ma’am, I think I just need some sleep,” you replied carefully with a smile. Maker, you were going to have to work harder to get that pile of blasters finished. For now, you would force yourself to rest.

“Alright. Feel better soon, (Y/N),” the woman dismissed you with a smile, and then Miss Mirius returned to her paperwork.

You slowly left the civilian workspace, large enough for all of the volunteers, and made your way through the Resolute to your quarters. The bright lights throughout the ship burned your sensitive eye sockets, hurting your very brain even more. However, you pushed on to your crew’s women-only barracks, to your bunk, and collapsed face first into the pillow.

Time to try to sleep off this pain I didn't sign up for.

After what felt like minutes later, the door to the barracks slid open, causing you to blink rapidly and wake up. With a yawn and some shifting on your bunk, you sat up to see who dared bother your slumber.

"Hey. I heard you were having a headache?" The voice of the clones emanated from the newcomer. After adjusting to the light from the open door, and then the room's lights switching on, you noticed who had walked in. You smiled. Shaved and tattooed head, medic's emblem on his shoulder; Kix. He must have left his bucket in the medbay.

"Yeah, you heard correctly," and all of a sudden, the ache woke up and once again took root within your skull, causing you to wince. "Nothing serious, though. Can I help you?"

While you yawned again and faced his approaching form, he replied, "No, but I can help you. Don't you know how serious headaches can be?" He joked, and took a seat at the cot next to yours. You realized he was mostly serious when he set his med-pack next to himself.

"Oh yes, I can feel that the end is near. I see the light," you added sarcastically, and clutched at your chest, "papa, can you hear me?" You said as you pretended to reach for a ghost without laughing.

Kix laughed before you did, "Well, thank the Maker. I got here just in time!" With that, he pulled out his scanner, causing you to laugh.

"Really, it's nothing to worry about. You don't need to do all that." You told him once your giggles died down.

"But it was enough to make you quit working for the day. What if it's a concussion, or meningitis, or some horrible infection? You could die!" He rattled off in a not-so-serious tone.

"Just some sleep should do the trick. Maybe some fruit or electrolytes or-"

"Look," he cut you off with a sigh, "for the first time in a very long time, my medbay is empty. It's quiet and unsettling, and it's killing me that I literally have nothing to do. So, could you just" he looked up at you from his seated position across from you, almost pleading, "humor me?"

The man was so bored, he wanted to play doctor over a simple headache. With an exaggerated eye roll, you nodded. "How do you want me?"

Almost like an excited loth pup, Kix sprung up and turned on his medscanner. "Just how you are is fine, just stay still," he said as he waved the scanner up and down your whole body. Once he stopped, with his eyes on the readings, he said you could relax. You simply stayed as you were.

"Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna die?"

After a few more moments, Kix sat down and sighed dramatically. Looking up at you, he said, "Luckily, I got here just in time. A second later, and we could have lost you. You, my dear, are suffering from a sinus headache and mild dehydration." His serious tone in this low-risk situation was the most ridiculous thing. Once you calmed down, a smile remained on his face. "Take some allergy meds and drink water, or some of that sports drink the men take after training. The sugars should help once you wake up from your prescribed nap, which you should continue after taking one of these" he handed you a little bottle of allergy pills, "and drinking this," and then gave you a blue colored electrolyte drink from his pack. He must have seen you sneezing on the last mission to that dusty planet....and he must have known earlier exactly what you needed.

"Thanks, Kix." You smiled, and stood up to give the man a hug. He could be really sweet, sometimes. All the troopers could, really. Kix had gotten up too, and stiffened at your hug. Dammit, I should have asked. You quickly released him upon realizing your error.

"Sorry, I should have asked first."

"No, no, it's alright. I just wasn't expecting it. I don't really get hugs from people who aren't brothers." He said frankly, with a hint of nervousness.

"I'm sorry, but that just makes me want to hug you more. I'll refrain though. I just want you to know that I am grateful for you as a... friend. So, thank you."

You made to sit back down on your bunk when he replied with his comforting hand on your shoulder, "I am thankful for you, too, cyar'ika." He began to exit the barracks with a smile on his face, when he remembered, "And take one of those pills every night 'til they run out!"

#clonewars #medic kix #clone trooper kix #star wars the clone wars #kix x reader #fluff fanfiction #fluffy #i hope this is alright!

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