#see this is the real shit i should of spoke about in therapy like i did mention her both sessions actually but i didnt go into great detail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

czrpenters · 1 year

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mine | gf!sam carpenter x reader

summary: it's very hard to sam fight against her instincts. so, maybe she should embrace them.

pairings: ghostface!sam carpenter x mackenzie!fem!reader.

warnings: mentions of mental disorders, blood, death of a character, suicide, dark themes.

word count: 3.2k words.

masterlist | request rules.

Sam felt guilty. She felt dirty. Disgusting, even.

Ever since the attacks in Woodsboro, she felt a switch turn inside of her. I mean, she always felt a little different, ever since she was a kid; she hated sharing, hated when things didn't went her way. Hated pretty much every person alive except her sister. And she never found peace. She had to reccur to drinking and drugs to forget about those feelings, even if for just a second. It was raging. Like it was tearing her chest from the inside out. The hallucinations with her real father, the voices she heard telling her to do things, all the anxiety and panic she felt daily. It was torture, to her.

And that got so freaking worse when she met you.

Sam met you through her sister, Tara. The attacks in Woodsboro were very personal to you. You lost your sister there. Your best friend, your Liv. You guys were closer than everything. Both of you were almost the same person, like two peas in a pod. Losing her was losing a part of you. And Sam pretty much saved you back then. Physically and emotionally.

When Sam fell in love with you, she thought that all of the horrible shit she felt would go away for good. She was innocent, of course; thought that love was the solution to all the problems in the world. And it was, for a while.

She felt peaceful, she felt at home. Everytime you kissed her, she forgot about everything bad that was inside of her. It was calm. Something she didn't even remembered how it felt. After Richie, Sam never thought about dating again; she couldn't even trust people enough to let them in. But she trusted you; she loved you. There was something about you and your personality that captivated her, and Sam couldn't even figure it out what it was. She didn't wanted to. She was too busy loving you to even think about these things.

That was the scenario for the first few months of your relationship, of course.

She definetly felt a switch turn inside of her after the attacks.

Why did she felt like that? Why did it feel good? When killing Richie, stabbing him, his blood splattering all over the floor and against her face. Seeing his life fade away in her bare hands. Why did it felt right?

It was too much, for her. She had to go to therapy, against her own will. It was scary. She had to switch therapists every now and then everytime she spoke about her feelings. It was too much for them, as well.

These thoughts haunted her. She had dreams about Richie, about the feeling of his blood in her hands, the smell of Amber's burnt skin, the knife piercing through Richie's flesh. And it wasn't helpful when her father decided to show up every now and then to have a little chat with her.

"You know you wanna do it." Sam turned around, scared that someone had broken into her house, but it was just him. Billy Loomis. "It's a human instinct, Sam. It's our instinct."

She took a deep breath, deciding to ignore him, getting back to her chores. It was almost like she could feel his presence in the room physically. She heard him laugh, but promptly ignored him; getting back to cut some vegetables for dinner. "Look at you, Sam. Look how the knife fits perfectly in your hand. It's like you were made for this."

She closed her eyes shut and threw the knife angrily at the sink. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" She screamed, turning around and realizing he was finally gone. That was her life now, day after day. The meds were barely working, and therapy was pretty much useless. So, in a last attempt to save the last bits of her sanity, she decided to leave Woodsboro. Maybe that was the solution all along, she thought. She needed to move on, to forget about the trauma, to live a normal life with her family. And maybe, just maybe, New York City would erase all of the past.

Sam woke up breathless. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. Another nightmare, like usual. And as always, about you. Dreaming about your death. The thought of you dying was terrifying to her, she felt this need to protect you from everything and everyone at all times and it could be too much for her own sanity sometims.

She looked to the side of the bed, her body shaking when she realised you weren't there.

"(Y/N)?" She got up the bed and looked for you in the bathroom, feeling dizzy and anxious. "(Y/N)??"

She ran to the kitchen, hoping to find you there; which she did. You were making yourself some late night snack with your headphones on, not even paying atention to your surroundings. Her heart finally slowed down, holding the chair next to her to calm herself down. You turned around for whatever reason and saw her there, looking like she ran a marathon. "Baby? Are you okay?"

"I'm- I'm fine." She looked at you, breathless. You took your airpods off, worried. I mean, it was a common thing to see her waking up in the middle of the night; you knew she had nightmares all the time, probably everyday. You made her sit down, holding her head between your hands. "Tell me, what happened this time?"

"You were there... You were-" She didn't even had the guts to say it. She couldn't even think about you dying. "It felt so fucking real."

"I know, baby. I know." You soothed her, sitting in her lap and holding her in your arms. She felt a kiss on the top of her head, and your smell quickly invaded her nostrils; she finally was at peace now. "It was a bad dream, ok? Remember what I told you: These are only..."

"...Only dreams. You're right." She finished the sentence, looking at you, feeling finally at peace. You kissed her head again, getting out of your embrace.

"I'm gonna get you some water, baby."

"No... Stay with me." She whined, like a baby. You laughed and kissed her lips quickly.

"I'm literally 10 steps away from you. I think you can handle a couple of seconds without me, huh?" You answered, going to the fridge to grab her a water bottle. She looked straight at you, waiting for you to be done so she could finally hug you again. You handed her the water bottle and she promptly drank it; nightmares made her really thristy, for some reason. You were getting ready to sit on her lap again but your phone started ringing, making you go in its direction. "Who the fuck is calling me right now?"

You were intrigued, until you saw the number's id. It was your friend from college, Rachel. The two of you got very close ever since you moved to New York. And that bothered the shit out of Sam, mainly because you were talking to her all the time. Laughing with her, going to places with her. She should do all of this stuff with me, she thought.

"Let me guess... Rachel again?" Sam asked, kind of annoyed. The feeling she hated the most started to build up inside of her. She hated sharing.

"She's not that bad, baby. I get that she can be too much sometimes, but you really should give her a chance." You said before answering the phone. You were so naive, Sam thought. You were innocent to the point where you thought that the reason Sam hated her was because of her personality (rightfully so, because Rachel really could be unbearable sometimes). She could be the nicest, friendliest person in the entire world, and that wouldn't change a thing.

To Sam, she was competition. She was the enemy.

You turned away so you could talk to your friend more privately. It wasn't even something that important, probably just some late night movie session that Rachel was having on her own and she called to say how it was going. It was the love for movies that brought you two together; and also your shared hate of Van Helsing and the second triology of Star Wars.

Sam frowned and got up, going to the bathroom to wash her face a little bit. She was stressed. She was angry. This isn't how it was supposed to be.

Stupid. She's so stupid. She can't even wait until morning to call her? Fucking bitch.

She washed her face with a little bit of cold water, but when she was finished and looked herself in the mirror, she saw him again.

"She's so inconvinient, am I right?" He said, blood splattered all over his face and clothes. "Calling your girl at 3 AM, as if she didn't had anything better to do... As if she didn't had a girlfriend to take care of."

"Stop it." She said, quietly. She didn't wanted for you to know that Billy was back.

"Why do you let this happen, Sam? It isn't right. She's yours. Yet here you are, letting her waste your guys' time to talk with another chick. Oh, I thought you were better than that..."

"Please, shut up."

"You know what you need to do. This has gone way too far." He said, seriously. "You need to take her out of your way, Sam."

"I'm not gonna do shit." She took a deep breath, remembering all of the things you said to her when she was anxious, but this time they weren't helping.

"But you should. She's gonna take your girl away. Are you gonna let that happen, Sam? That's not how we do stuff."

"I'm not like you..."

"Don't be like me, then. Be better. Sneak away in the middle of the night."

"Stop."

"Grab your knife with you. Tie your hair in a ponytail."

"Please, stop."

"Slice her wrists and make it look like a suicide."

"Please..."

"Wear the mask, Sam."

"STOP!" She yelled, and looked up. Billy was gone.

"I'll call you later, Rach." You turned off your phone and ran into the bathroom, where you found Sam crying in front of the sink. You took the girl into your arms and caressed her hair softly. "Baby, I'm so sorry... You're gonna be alright, okay?" Sam nodded in your arms, still crying. She was scared of herself. Scared of him coming back. Scared that this plan would, maybe, come true one day.

And the worst part about all of this is the fact it seemed like a very good idea.

It was eating her alive. Everytime you grabbed your phone to talk to her, everytime she called. Or worse, when you invited her over to watch some stupid sci-fi movies. She could do all that shit with me. She should do all that shit with me. That was all she was thinking when she was on her way to her therapist (which, surprisingly, didn't leave when Sam opened up about her feelings). It didn't take long for her to get to the therapist's office; that was something Sam loved about NYC. She would just take the subway and go pretty much everywhere in the city.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this." She said to her doctor, whose name she didn't even bothered to remember at the moment. Other than being a shrink, he was also a psychiatrist, and to Sam, it meant that his hobby was to fill her up with meds she didn't need.

"Doing what, Sam?" The man asked. He was a nice guy, Sam thought. Mid 50s, a velvety type of voice, and was one of the few people in the world that actually listened to her.

"Sharing her. I just, I can't. It's too much."

"She's not your possession, Sam. You know that, I know that." No. He was wrong. You were hers.

"I know." She lied. "But still. It bothers me."

"And how it makes you feel, exactly?"

"Like I'm about to die. Everytime she's not with me. Everytime she spends time with another person, I wished I was dead." Another lie. She didn't wanted to die, she wanted to kill. And deep down, she knew it. She knew Billy was right; it was her instinct. But she couldn't let them take over. She had to be good. For you, and you only.

"She's a grown woman. Don't you think she is allowed to have her own life?"

"I know that. But she could do all that stuff with me. I'm capable of making her laugh, watch some stupid movies with her, or take her to fucking Madison Square Garden or some shit. I'm enough. I'm all what she needs." She said that last part in a whisper. The doctor wrote some things down, before looking at her again.

"How are the meds going, Sam?" She took a deep breath, relaxing in the chair.

"They suck. But I'm still taking them." The therapist smiled.

"That's the spirit." He wrote another thing down. "I know they can be a little bit hard on your body, but you know they help. Are you still having hallucinations?"

"Sometimes. Not like in the past, but still." She looked at the ceiling, unable to make eye contact with the man. It was a tough topic.

"When do you have them, mostly?"

"When I'm angry, or alone." The doctor nodded, making Sam confused. "Why is that?"

"These are the moments that you feel the most vulnerable, and unfortunately that's how this works; it attacks you when it knows that it can get to you." He said, without even using the term that Sam feared the most. "You can't let that happen, Sam. When you feel angry, or when you're alone, try your best to not listen to it. To not listen to him. If it gets really bad I could prescribe you something, but-"

"No. No more meds." Sam interrupted him. "I can handle it."

He nodded. The consult ended quickly, and Sam was already roaming New York City's streets after a couple of minutes. She needed to forget about all of this, in a healthy way. She promised you and Tara to stop drinking, so the only solution she had to forget about all of her shit was to walk.

She grabbed her phone, hoping you'd had texted her. Nothing. Why she wouldn text me? She always texts me after my consult. Sam thought for a second. Opened Instagram, trying to see if you posted anything. She clicked on your stories. Her heart sank to her stomach, seeing a picture of you and Rachel. Of course she was with Rachel. Stupid, fucking Rachel. She didn't even knew you were gonna be with her tonight.

"Why didn't you tell me you were gonna be busy tonight?"

You didn't take long to respond. "I thought I told you, baby. I'm just watching some tv shows with Rach."

Just reading her name made Sam feel nauseous. Rachel. Such an ugly name.

Sam responded your text lovingly, but feeling the opposite inside. All of that anger and fury came back to her. And that was only one thing in her mind right now.

Sam waited. 30 minutes, 1 hour. 2 hours. Nothing. You got home after 3 hours of waiting, which made Sam freaking pissed. She was supposed to be with me.

"Hey baby, I'm home! Sorry I took too long..." You got into the apartment, and Sam gave you a fake smile. You walked to te couch, where she was sitting, and sat on her lap, kissing her entire face dozens of times. "I'm sorry, okay? I know that friday's are our nights, but I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"It's fine, baby. Don't worry."

It wasn't fine. Sam wasn't really proud of what she did next, but it was the only solution she could think at the moment. She put a few drops of some allergy meds in your water, to make you sleepy; which happened in about 30 minutes. You both were cuddling while watching some stupid reality show, when you fell asleep. It was te perfect oportunity; Tara was at Chad's dorm, Quinn was at some hookup's place. It was just the two of you. She would be back before you woke up.

Sam changed her clothing. Put on the most generic outfit she could find, nothing special. Grabbed a hair tie. Put a surgical mask on, along with some reading glasses. She felt like fucking Clark Kent. She put some stuff in her backpack and made her way into the streets. She was calm. You wouldn't find out. Never.

Sam was a smart girl, she did her research. She knew Rachel's address by memory, and with a little internet help, she also found out that Rachel was freaking depressed. Damn, how can this be so easy? Thankfully, Rachel lived in a small house right near Brooklyn. It was late at night, no one was walking the streets except for Sam. The whole way there, she felt anxious, but in the best fucking way possible. Sam never felt this good before, only when she was with you. She always felt happy with you.

It didn't took that long for Sam to get there. Sam tied her hair, looking at the girls body right at the window. She was hidden behind a car, which made it easier for her to change into the outfit she brought. A ghostface's outfit.

"Put on the mask, Sam." She heard Billy's voice in her head, making her shiver. "Listen to me this time."

And she did.

Sam entered the house with no difficulty, the girl lived by herself and had a poor security system. She got inside, and did what she was yearning to do for days.

"Sam? What are you doing here?" The girl asked, after Sam revealed herself. She wanted Rachel to ser her, she wanted for her to know who was her killer.

"I'm here to gut you, Rachel."

Sam took the girl down, immobilizing her. Putting all her body weight on the top of hers. She tried to fight back but it was useless, Sam was stronger.

With a razor, she slit both of the girls wrists vertically.

The blood splattered all over the floor, all over Sam's body.

She felt a rush of dopamine immediately. It felt so fucking good. Seeing her life fade away right in front of her. Now (Y/N) would spend all of her time with me.

Sam spent some 10 minutes just looking at the girls dead body, like if it was a piece of art. She took a deep breath, grabbing a wooden pick she brought with her to clean under Rachel's nails, trying to erase each and every bit of Sam's dna that could potentially frame her. She knew it wouldn't have any, but still.

Sam got up, went to the girls computer. Wrote a suicide letter. It was pretty convincible, to be honest.

Before leaving, Sam looked at her lifelesss body one last time, her mouth watering at the sight. Right next to her, was Billy, looking pleased.

"Good job, Sam. I'm proud of you, kid." Sam took a deep breath. "No one is taking your girl away now."

⠀

tags: @laenordeservedbetter @attaccadq

#scream #scream vi #melissa barrera #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter smut #melissa barrera smut #ghostface!sam #ghostface #ghostface!sam x reader

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foggyparadisecandy · 5 months

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Since you asked, therapy is going well. Oh please don't bother to read this - it's so ... non-horny and awful.

Yes - I am very intelligent and observant. And yes - I shouldn't diminish the fact that I saw and stepped over my ex's trauma.

I am valid in saying I saw these things - it's not some monday morning quarterbacking where I can look over the past perfectly. I HAVE THE LOGS - I CAN SEE WHAT SHE WROTE AND WHAT I WROTE. I SAW IT AND WALKED PAST THEM!!!!! I'm not imagining shit.

But ... I'm not a trained trauma specialist. I had NO idea how to address it. I was uncomfortable. My responses show that clearly ... I felt awkward and nervous and scared for her.

I had already told her (I was her daddy - I told her and she did stuff) to see a therapist. She *had* tried two separate therapists because I prompted her. I wasn't trying to fix her stuff without a specialist.

She just had the misfortune of getting two really awful therapists. Just ... awful. We ran out of runway to find a third when she hit her trauma point.

If I knew then what I know now, I would have said "find a trauma specialist" and "reach out to dozens of them so you get in sooner - don't wait MONTHS to see someone."

Ugh. I can own that I saw what I saw. But I can also let go of the guilt. And ... yeah ... working on it. Working on it.

And yeah ... she should have spoke up more. She should have asked for help. Yeah ... she was not used to a supporting and caring person. I scared her with my love sometimes. She was uncomfortable with it. I get that. I do I do I do.

But fuck. She is so capable. She had choices on how to respond.

It's done, it's done, it's done. No point in spiraling again.

She's gone, she's gone, she's gone.

Anyhoooooo therapy is going well. lol

This might sound foolish to some of you but I asked the therapist to explain boundaries to me. I am smart. I read a lot. I've read up on them because so many kind people have said during this dark period "Foggy, you need better boundaries."

I literally have no idea how to navigate or set up a boundary. It's why I forgive so easily. I mean ... yeah ... techically if you shit on me the same way multiple times, I *will* cut you out of my life. Forgive you, yes, but also cut you out.

She asked me "and have you ever actually cut someone out of your life that way?" lol ... rude question. Dear reader, I'm sure you can guess my answer.

She then asked, "why is it you find it so hard to put up boundaries to protect yourself? Are you afraid of hurting them?"

No. That's not it. "It's because if I do that, i won't be there when they need me."

Just like my fucking mom needed me when I was a kid. To keep her insanity in check. To keep from burning our house down (figuratively ... and ... literally threatened to do).

So yeah ... no fucking wonder I have no boundaries.

I wasn't taught anything better.

What a shit show to find out your life is just full of stupid shit because of shit that happened when you were a little kid.

Oh well. Whatever, I guess.

The good news is "Foggy, it's ok. You see it now. Now we can build off your knowledge and set up reasonable boundaries for your future self. You can do this."

Ok Doc. I forgive you for being so real and pointing out my weaknesses.

Fuck that girl for abandoning me though. I love her. I forgive her. I hope she's ok but ... fuck her for slicing my heart and soul into pieces.

I didn't deserve any of that shit. BARE MINIMUM FUCKING LET ME KNOW YOU ARE DOING OK SO I CAN HAVE SOME PEACE OF MIND. God. I took great care of her.

She doesn't owe me anything ... I guess that's so. And what a shitty world we live in where we don't owe anything to people who care deeply about us.

#catharsis #self care #self love

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halfelven · 1 year

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typical my life was fucked up stuff under the cut (csa)

i have quite high self esteem and self confidence which always surprises psychiatrists bc of my background but the thing is i don’t really know why i do? possibly out of spite? from pure necessity? byproduct of having to be as independent as i had to be?

i’m also not a people pleaser and i don’t really have social anxiety so it might stem from the idea that there was nothing i could do to get attention, affection, or help and the only person i could ever rely on was myself

i did use to hate myself and think a lot of the shit they told me about me was true, but i really like myself now and i don’t think my close friends all secretly hate me. i have to force myself to respect (good) authority and not think i’m better than other people. i think this probably does stem from the hyper independence. i also have to force myself to form attachments.

(this is one thing that i told my mother would happen to me in my ‘why i shouldn’t be this isolated’ presentations. i have referenced it in previous posts without admitting what it was since i don’t want to hurt people’s feelings by saying it is hard for me to form attachments or really care if someone stays in my life. it’s not consciously a choice to avoid hurt from people leaving, but it might be subconsciously that. i saw too many friends die as a child and then went into near total isolation and didn’t form any new relationships during a crucial time in child development—as i told my mother.)

i find it interesting how it is so different from what psychiatrists are expecting, but all my good drs have admitted there’s hardly any studies done on cases like mine, so there’s not that much to compare it to.

but my current dr doesn’t think i should do long distance therapy due to she thinks my therapist should closely monitor my body language and facial expressions.

(‘like what you’re doing with your hands,’ she says, as i glance down at how i’m twirling my thumbs round each other. i laugh since i knew that was one big thing she meant when she said it would be better in person. ‘yes, that makes sense, of course,’ i say. i smile at her, looking straight into her eyes and laugh again because i know the other thing she’s thinking and that we’re both not saying. ‘so much of trauma is held in the body,’ she says, ‘and long distance you can’t see more than the face. and you can’t mark changes.’ ‘of course,’ i agree.

i can’t remember our last appointment in february or the one before that in december. she tells me that both times i spoke clearly and was tidy and presentable. that she hadn’t noticed anything about me being completely gone. she asks if i was gone somewhere else. i truthfully tell her that i can’t remember most of the winter. nothing felt real and now most of it is dark.

she says i’m the perfect candidate for rehabilitation because i’m so driven and strong. that i need time to heal and establish myself. but i know what i want. i nod again. i know what i want. i don’t know who i am. she says my background was inhuman and inhumane. i nod and smile again. i haven’t smiled this much in weeks.

i tell her i’m glad i got the rehabilitation because i do know what i want and my studies will help me get it but i was scared that if i started therapy while expected to do full time studies i would just fall apart completely. ‘it’s going to be bad,’ i say. it’s going to get worse before it gets better. i push away images of inhuman cruelty that did not happen to me.

‘therapy is very hard,’ she says. ‘but it helps. no one would do it if it didn’t help. it’s too painful… unless they were extreme masochists!’ we both laugh. i have bruises running up my arm from bite marks.

i don’t get home before i break down crying in the park. i lean against a tree and cry. she’s telling me i’m getting real help, actual stability. i’m crying because that’s a mean joke to play on someone. it’s not real. and even if it were, i can’t grasp the concept of stability. i’ve never been able to plan my life more than a month ahead.

and nothing seems real anyway. i’m floating instead of actually stepping on the ground. i didn’t sleep last night and i have just come back from a funeral that reminded me that i have no one to turn to. it’s so warm, and it was still winter in the north. and i’m tired so all the light seems brighter.

nothing is real and i didn’t live through that hell. yesterday i read a sad, sad book and knew that it had to have happened. my denial, my memory working exactly like that. it couldn’t happen. it was too cruel. i couldn’t deny it longer. but today is real. of course it didn’t happen. nothing is real. i whisper old words in my mind, ‘this isn’t happening. this isn’t happening.’ so it didn’t happen. so it could never have happened. it wasn’t real then and it’s not real now.

and i fall apart for no reason, and they’re going to find out, and get mad at me for lying, and take away all my help and i’ll never be able to keep a job because i’m too dramatic and just want attention.

of course that’s not true. i know i couldn’t fake this. i’m too strong anyway. if it didn’t happen i would already have gone so far in life. become a surgeon or something. i’m too smart. too resourceful. too determined and independent and brave. it was something bad that made this. it just didn’t happen to me.

another doctor stared at me before and told me i had a fire inside me she had never seen before. and another doctor told me i had the strongest will he had ever seen. that sounds made up but it happened and i still don’t know what to think of it.

the one who called me strongest liked me so much that it was not at all professional. he told me that i was too self aware for him to be anything but entirely direct. and then he told me i was brilliant and had to go to grad school so my mind wouldn’t be wasted and that i would change the world. ((people who haven’t gotten off their computer in ten years will say it never happened.))

and i am sitting here today knowing that i have written a book that could probably help change the world. and it would also give my soul away, in a sense. it’s brutally raw and there’s not much that i’m hiding—there is some of course, but i would go insane if there wasn’t. and sure i’m brave. but am i that brave?

ever since i was a child i knew that i would always be hated. not because i was at my core entirely hateable but because i was always going to make so many enemies.

i heard their stories and what they wanted for the world, and i was going to make myself their enemy. an evil villain who they could focus some hatred on, get it away from people who didn’t want it. change others’ minds.

that’s not the part i’m scared of. it’s just going to be so hard to hear people who say they want to help csa victims say i survived wrong. coped wrong. got my sexuality wired wrong. and i’m not leaving that out because i know other people kill themselves over this. i’m sick of saying i’m sorry for being raped as an infant and coming out wrong. i’m not sorry.

i’m violent and angry. i’d like to torture him to death. and people say they want to do that for less. if you are stripped entirely of your pride and humanity what do you become?

at least he never broke me

#probably the longest non story post i’ve made #musings #personali #medical //#typical exposure therapy for publishing autobiography #gdlplu

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selectivechaos · 1 year

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anticipatory anxiety, and why people with sm can be talkative

long post⚠️

“we went skydiving and that anticipatory anxiety when i was sitting there in the plane with the door open at 15,000 feet with the wind blowing. that fear that i had was the exact same feeling i had when someone tried to get me to speak with them when i was in kindergarten and if you kind of think about it in that way it kind of makes sense, that a lot of these behaviours make sense, that when you see a kid with sm they look totally avoidant, totally scared out of their minds because they feel like they’re about to jump out of a plane from 15,000 feet. and going back to kindergarten we ended up seeing a few more doctors but each diagnosed me with something different - autism, generalised anxiety… because they didn’t really know what was happening either, their therapy wasn’t helpful and after a while with no real progress the school told my parents that there was really nothing more that they can do and that i would probably never get any better and i would have anxiety for the rest of my life, and they didn’t see me getting over that.

but i think the real reason a lot of these people have never understood it was because the kid that the school saw, the kid that even these doctors saw, was not the real me; it was just the kid that they saw in public. none of them saw the kid who was at home: i was talkative, i was friendly. even with family friends or some relatives, if it wasn’t crowded: i would be talkative and i think this is something very unique to sm, where somebody acts completely differently in one situation versus another.” source: ‘My Journey Through Silence: A Young Adult's Perspective on Selective Mutism’ by selective mutism association on youtube

this shows again why professionals in education and healthcare can’t fully understand sm. in a disorder so focused on the mute situations, they can’t see what we’re like in safe situations. im like a completely different person, like the people im mute around would not recognise me. a few years ago i had a friend who got shocked when i smiled, apparently she’d never seen it before. another time, someone i was semi-okay-semi-anxious around got shocked when i spoke because she didn’t think i could.

im working on being kind to myself when im in mute situations, so that i don’t consider myself any less of a person or any less valuable when im mute (bc that’s harmful ableist shit), but i do think that who i am when im not mute is so important to see, because it’s who i am when im not suffering and terrified, when im not lonely or anxious, and when my i can be sure my needs will be met, not only because i can ask for things then, but also because people treat me as human when im not mute and inhuman when i am (and that’s also ableist shit).

who i am when im not mute is the story of how i could and should be All the time. 🌹🌹

#selective mutism #situational mutism #selectively mute #actually socially anxious #social anxiety disorder #mentalheathawareness #mental health awareness #actually mentally ill #anticipatory anxiety

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tarithenurse · 2 years

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Accidental Partners - 8

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Sam Wilson &/x fem!reader Contents: For this one you can expect more of those pesky feelings! A/N: It’s been ages since I posted, so you can find the previous chapter here. An update on my writing status? It’s still going very slow because I spend a lot of time on work and therapy and real life shit but I’m doing better at least and hope to regain my desire to write as time passes.

8. A change

... Sam ...

“So...” Sam beings hesitantly, “what do you think of the lawyer?”

He just has to ask something, get a conversation going that can drown out the words that are echoing in his brain. “I’d like to think of him as my friend”. Why did it hurt so much? It was more than he had expected the day he decided to sneak through the window at a therapists waiting room, leaving his gear on the fire escape for Bucky to pick up. Sam had done it one a whim, lucky to predict [Y/N]’s movements through the simple layout of the building and even luckier that she just went along with the game which allowed them to lay low and escape detection.

“I...he seems good, I guess,” the hesitant answer breaks him from the musings of a desperate man, “it’s not like I’ve got a whole lot to compare him with, y’know.”

Doh. “Of course not.”

Silence falls once more, making Sam’s insides cringe and his brain come up with nothing but static.

“He uh he asked me something,” [Y/N] continues after a moment.

“Yeah?” I know, I heard.

She looks forlorn as she continues. “He asked what I’d do once this is all over, assuming I walk free...”

The mental record scratch jolts Sam’s thoughts into a different path, struggling to keep up with the unexpected subject. “What’d you say?”

“That I’d have to think about it but I’d like it to be something where I can put my skills to better use.”

“Like...uhm...intelligence gathering or something? CIA?”

“Hah!” the laugh is dry and humourless, “like they’ll ever let me join their ranks now. No...or yes, but maybe at a different agency.”

... Reader ...

You can see his brows narrow and his mouth set in the way it always does when he’s thinking hard. Suddenly you’re nervous that you might have misunderstood the intentions way back when he first spoke with you at the cafe after he’d saved your ass from the federal team chasing you. Didn’t he mean for me to join SHIELD?

“I know of at least one place that could use your skills...and even if that should fail I’m fairly sure Bucky and I could use the help.” His frown dissipates, replaced by a different kind of concern. “I’m fairly certain that any place you’d end up would need you to pass some sort of physical, though.”

The kind of physical he means probably isn’t the type that’s rushing through your mind, making you cheeks glow hot. “I uhm,” you try to cover your embarrassment, “might be a bit out of shape.”

“Nothing I can’t help you with, if you want.”

“I’d want that.”

Your answer is a bit too quick and the silence afterwards is nerve wrecking. It’s impossible to look Sam in the eyes – hell, it’s hard enough to just look at his mouth where a crooked smile is dancing – so instead you turn to occupy yourself in the kitchen with cleaning the single cup left behind by the lawyer, scrubbing it furiously as if it was the hands of lady Macbeth.

A hand lands on your shoulder, giving it a short squeeze before the heat disappears together with the sound of Sam’s feet.

... Sam ...

Suddenly things don’t seem so troublesome anymore. Yes, there’s the whole debacle with the trial, but for once the new Captain America dares to dream a bit further because there’s hope for something good afterwards. Before, Sam had been loathe to image an after because even a successful trial didn’t seem to guarantee what he really wanted. But now, a few minutes ago?

A deft thumbs traces the pattern on the phone as he sends the news of [Y/N]’s interest in a specific job to the right channels.

Bucky’s answer comes promptly: “You’re gonna be insufferable if she doesn’t join us, aren’t you?” There’s even a winking smiley face – Bucky has recently been introduced to the proper used of emojis by Sam’s nephews.

... Reader ...

As if to prepare for the best, Sam begins to make good on his promise the next day already: hours that have been empty and filled of tedious nonsense to while the time away are now spent with indoor workout regimes to the sound of upbeat music. The good thing is that he doesn’t seem to mind how out of shape you are. The bad thing is how out of shape you are.

“Saaaaam,” you groan, trying to push yourself up from the floor in what feels like the 100th push up.

“If you can talk, then you’re not using all your energy on training, babe,” he teases, but orders you to take a water break anyways.

He’s, for lack of a better word, bossy when he trains you but he doesn’t fail to encourage you and make you feel like you’re doing great every time you struggle with a set.

“Gotta say I’m impressed,” he admits.

“Why? I stink at this! AND I stink!”

He grins at you. “Stink of hard work, maybe.” Leaning closer he sniffs the air near you, making you unbearably conscious of the sweat on your skin. “Yup, that’s endurance and willpower right there!”

“Riiight.”

“No, I mean it. [Y/N], you’re dealing with a lot at the moment and now I’m ordering you around too...it can’t be easy.”

Falling silent, you take a rare moment to let it all sink it, something that you normally try to avoid because it always becomes too much and it’s the same this time: the weight on your chest changes from the kind from short breath to something deeper, your throat threatens to close, and tears slowly rise in your eye.

No! I can’t. Not now. Blinking the blur away, you stride to the kitchen with a mumbled excuse about refilling your glass of water (even though it’s half full).

The jug of water in the fridge is almost empty, providing a much needed delay where you can get your emotions under control. Or so you think.

“[Y/N]...” Sam’s hand is gentle on your shoulder and you instinctively lean into his hold. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, y’know?”

Salty drops mix with the cool water for a moment. Then the tap is stopped, the jug is lifted out of your hands and you’re spun around into an awkward hug. You can’t see through the tears at all this time, but that’s okay because everything within is telling you that you’re safe in Sam’s arms and there is no awkwardness as you had expected but simply a feeling of it being right.

The two of you stand for a long time until your cheeks are dry again and the heaving for air has calmed. I don’t want to move. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders...even if it’s just temporary. And he feels so warm. Stifling a yawn, you snuggle in slightly closer out of instinct and you’re pleased to discover that he tightens the hold on you rather than turn you away.

“Better?” Sam’s voice is barely a whisper.

“Mhmm,” you concede without letting go of the man.

“Good.”

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canonicallysoulmates · 1 year

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Walker 3.08

Walker is back! And I'm gonna make this quick cause not a lot happens. There is a case, a missing rich dude who faked his death but the seemingly most important thing about that is that Captain James is on edge because of what Cassie and Walker did of opening the evidence case and the one who ends up getting the brunt of his anger is poor Trey! Captain screams at him because he and Cassie pursued a lead without contacting him even saying that maybe making Trey a ranger was a mistake. Captain James come over here I just wanna talk.

Anyways, the ep picks up where the last one left off with Abeline on the ground, they rush her to the hospital and it turns out she had a mild temporary stroke. Thankfully she's fine and makes a full recovery but she does need to make some changes less stress, a heart-healthy diet that kind of thing which are instructions that Bonham takes very seriously. It's actually quite sweet how he goes into protective mode and he wants to take care of her even doing research into things that could benefit her health, he does go a bit overboard with it though and Abeline has to talk some sense into him that she doesn't plan to live her life in fear.

He struggles with that a little bit because he doesn't want to think about her being gone but he does come around and realize that she's right, and he plans a really sweet, romantic dinner for them which is such a lovely scene. These two are definitely the highlight of this episode.

On the other side of the coin, something I didn't like was the resolution given to Stella and August fighting. At Abeline's request, Walker and the kids go to Dallas to try and get her brother because she wants to see him, and the whole time Stella and August are fighting and it all comes to an end as they're having breakfast. Walker tries to get them to talk and fix things but he does not know how to mediate and it starts to turn into one more fight so he's like "forget it, do what you want" and walks away. Stella and August start to go back and forth and what it all basically boils down to is Stella saying that the reason for August acting in such a way is because he misses their mom........*sigh*. And she's once again the bigger person telling him that she understands, that she's been through the same thing, and that while she's not their mom to let her be the person that he vents to and yells at..........Stella deserves better.

There are several things I don't like about this but I'll touch upon just two the first one is that they still have a father, Stella is taking on a level of responsibility that should not be hers, the person that should be telling August these things and taking on that responsibility of trying to fill in the gap that their mother left of being there when he needs someone to yell at and vent is Walker. The second is that August acknowledges that he and his mom were very close but he doesn't apologize to Stella, he doesn't acknowledge that he was in the wrong and that he hurt her these are things that better happen in the next couple of episodes or I'm going to be pissed. And actually, I will touch upon a third thing which is that I don't get how this kid is not in therapy or getting some counseling when he is clearly struggling with regulating his emotions and handling his anger. There's a whole storyline this season about how therapy has been beneficial to Liam yet not one single member of this family has considered that August would benefit from it as well.

I do like the conclusion with Abeline's brother because he misses her but he's not ready to see her yet but he does call her later that day. And I like it because it's real, last time they spoke they had a huge fight that made them go no contact for years. It's not easy to fix family relationships.

And then the episode ends on a shocker because Bonham tells Walker it's time to pack up and get his shit together. I'm paraphrasing. I get where Bonham is coming from but I cannot wrap my head around this- I think I'm too Latina for this because the thought of kicking your own son (and your grandchild!) out when he doesn't even live in the main house for no real reason cause yeah Walker's a mess who needs to get his shit together but that's not a reason! I would get it if he was a bad person, if he was being wildly irresponsible, bringing in drugs, didn't contribute anything but his biggest sin is not taking advice, not going to therapy, and that fatherhood has been kicking his ass lately. All Walker does is go to work, help out, and go to his little house to sleep. This is wild to me.

#walker #walker 3.08 #walker spoilers #also the episode that focuses on family being the one where cordell gets kicked out BY HIS OWN FATHER 😭#opinion on walker #noniwtv #mine

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fox-mulder-gets-pegged · 1 year

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12:28 am time to think about kindness.

Thinking about when my brother died when I was in grade 9, like right in September, and I was out of school for a few days. My friend in my period 3 geography class told our teacher for me bc he had handed out an assignment and he wanted to know if she knew when I'd be back.

I was like. A totally shit student at the time and was more focused on making jokes with my friend than learning geography. It would have absolutely not surprised me if I was told my geo teacher hated my guts. I'll be real, high school me was a total nightmare harpy.

So I was completely shocked when I stumbled back into class after the funeral and my teacher pulled me aside to tell me he was sorry for my loss. He told me not to worry about the project, that he'd just pass me on it. He told me if I needed someone to talk to, his door was open. Every other teacher I spoke to with minimal detail gave their sympathies and handed over the schoolwork I missed and that was that. A few weeks later when he noticed I was really struggling, he got me involved in this stupid trivia team my school had that he supervised (which I ended up loving and joined for all four years).

Thinking about how my depression got worse this year. How I tried to kill myself in September and ended up in a forced psyche hold for a few days. How it's been a fucking battle to keep myself upright lately. Medication adjustments, psychiatrist visits, therapy check ins every week. It's been just a complete fucking nightmare that I absolutely don't want to involve anyone else in.

I see a specialist doctor every three months for a rare health condition I have that could cause me to wake up blind one day, or make me develop seizures or have a stroke. He's got no bedside manner at all but I don't mind bc I like a doctor who doesn't bullshit me. Plus, neuro-opthalmologists aren't exactly in abundance from my understanding. Even if he's kind of a prick, you get used to it after seeing a guy every three months for about three years now.

I went to see him mid December. He asked me if I had any changes to my current health since we last saw each other. I told him about my suicide attempt since I figured as my doctor he should know.

He immediately paused the appointment. Asked how I was doing. I told him not good. It's been a lot. He told me that the damage to my eyes hadn't improved from the latest round of treatment, but it hadn't gotten worse either. And since it wasn't worse, he was going to put a stop to our treatment plan for the next three months. That's way, he said, I could focus on improving my mental health. No more pills or special diet or MRIs or spinal taps or optic nerve imaging for the next three months so I could just focus on getting better. He told me he'd pray for me and to let his receptionist know to book me in for March.

Like, idk. I guess I'm just thinking about kindness in this specific form. Less doing stuff for me, and more giving me permission to let go of some of the tasks on my to do list. There's always another school project, in three months my doctor and I might be discussing surgery if the damage to my eyes get worse. But for a little while, my plate isn't quite as full and fuck if that doesn't mean the world to me when I'm struggling.

#absolutely not sure what the point of this post is #but its been on my mind since i saw my doctor #and frick u its MY cringe ass tumblr blog and if i wanna post about my traumas then i WILL #but yeah just #shout out to my grade 9 geography teacher and my specalist #like i rly cannot fucking articulate what it meant to me #to be told that its ok #i can just take a fucking moment to breath and we can get back to it later when I'm ready #i have never had that in my life #no one has ever just let me take a moment #i cant remember a time when i haven't been fighting to keep moving forward #bc someone told me its unacceptable for me to rest #god i was standing in the lobby of my doctors office just fighting back tears

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aliengirl-97 · 3 months

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bluerayhealing 10h if it's any consolation that at least you had this person you love for 10 years. i would've taken those years with the person i love even if it was abusive. it's 10 years for me since i was with this guy that i fell in love with who would shove me when i didn't want sex and pulled my hair so hard i felt my neck would snap, but he left me and all this time i wish i had been good enough and i wish he would've stayed even if it was abusive, it's better than indifference.

I took a lot of time to digest this message and figure out how to reply to it. Every emotion flickered through my mind.

The short:

A man who abuses you doesnt love you. A man who abuses you is indifferent to your suffering, they just pretend otherwise to keep you around to fulfil the further need they have to abuse and control.

The long:

When I was a teenager, I was extremely unstable - self harm, alcohol use, risky sex behaviour, the works - and very vulnerable to abuse. I met a man online who was there for me, he listened to me, he cared, he assured me my abuse didnt make me unlovable and actually made me better (giant red flag), and I began to see him irl.

I moved in with him after 2 years in my late teens.

Over the course of this relationship, he would hit me, control everything I did - the way I spoke, dressed, acted, who I could talk to - and abuse me physically and sexually, including things like strangling me. He would constantly remind me I wasnt good enough - pretty enough, not funny, not smart, the only good thing about me was that I was useful. And I agreed.

I am in my late 20s now. I have been isolated from anyone but him for so long that I cant function. I have no idea how to do shit like pay rent due to the financial control. I wont trauma dump more details, but I was treated incredibly badly and will be in therapy for the rest of my life.

My diary entries for years were begging him to love me, begging for me to just be better, do better, if I was better he would love me more, oh Im such a bad person to make him put up with this etc. I was groomed and systematically abused until I thought I was the problem against all greater logic. After all, he couldnt be bad, he loved me, right? It's my fault, I am not giving him what he needs, and as he reminded me I could give him what he needed or fuck off. And I had no one but him, so I clung on.

A man who abuses you doesnt love you. A man who abuses you is indifferent to your suffering, they just pretend otherwise to keep you around to fulfil the further need they have to abuse and control.

I would give anything to have no spent 10 years with a monster, to have woken up sooner, I'd trade my left arm to have my teens and 20s back. Im gonna spend til Im 30 just putting my life back together.

What you describe and experience is similar to the trap I was in for 10 years - yearning, desperately, to be enough for someone who doesnt give a shit. Difference is mine kept me around cos I was useful, doesn't mean he cared. And this may sound harsh, but it isnt real love, it's a obsessive bond that forms from trauma. Heightened when someone dangles the idea of being 'good enough' over your head.

I have many, many mentally ill rants in diaries about how I'm not even good enough to abuse, and I can only say that doesn't exist. I'm glad that man isnt in your life cos he's not good enough for you, no one deserves someone who treats them like that. I used to think that treatment was the best I could hope for.

Use me, abuse me, just as long as you stay and love me - I can have the illusion of love for a while, even if deep down I know I'm being used.

I dont know if I am ever gonna escape that mentality and that girl still lives within me, but I am awake enough to know where that path leads. That path leads to 10 years of your life giving things away that no one should, all for a man who doesnt even fucking like you. My ex hated everything about me - my interests, hobbies, humour, appearance - but always gave me 'chances' to improve. They keep you pining so you're too focused on yourself to see the abuse.

I wish I could say something that could stop you ever ending up in that situation as you are at risk for that, but I also know there's shit all anyone could have said to me. People did over the years and planted the seeds of doubt that took years to grow into "oh, this isnt okay".

There is nothing wrong with you. There's not something defective about you that made you not good enough. This is what abusers do. They hurt you, keep you around til they get bored, and throw you away. But non abusive love exists, and so does finding people who think you're absolutely wonderful for who you are.

#trauma vent #abuse vent #cptsdhealing #actually abused #trauma healing

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buckysdolls · 3 years

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Perfectly Perfect

One Shot- Bucky x Reader

Summary- You’ve been Bucky’s support system in his attempt to make his wrongs, right. Developing love for you, Bucky’s get jealous upon seeing another man pay you attention.

Warnings- floof, minimal mentions of a sexual nature, swearing, protective loveable Bucky!

“So, you’re just going to sit here and watch some guy sweep her off her feet hmm?”

Bucky’s squinted eyes and straight lips signalled to Sam that Bucky wasn’t impressed with his running commentary on you talking to another guy.

“Oh great, now you’re doing your staring thing” Sam huffed rolling his eyes as he shook his head.

Bucky looked over at you, catching a glimpse of your beaming smile, a smile that lit whichever room you was standing in. A smile that he’d come to adore. He couldn’t blame the guy that was currently drooling over you, you were by far the most charming girl in the room. Bucky was so sure you were interested in him, the confidence you’d given him to believe in himself, your caring nature, and your ability to be patient with him was better than any therapy session he’d been ordered to attend, though it took him ages to open up to you, love was stronger than any other feeling he had. You had been the support he needed all along to continue being the good guy he needed to be and wanted to be. You’d helped him right so many wrongs after he revealed his book of names to you, sharing each individual story, knowing you wouldn’t judge him. In the time they’d known each other, he was now considering if he’d fallen too hard, and read the situation wrong. You're kind-hearted, sweet, and soft, but for a girl who was a badass bitch in a fight, you was far from the hard exterior you liked others to see, you each knew the real side of each other.

The guy leaned into you, one of his hands resting on your hips, the other brushing your hair over your shoulder, letting the pads of his fingertips linger on your skin. Sam observed Bucky as he stared back at him, raising an eyebrow. Bucky’s jaw clenched in frustration, though the rest of his face lay expressionless. The only way Sam knew Bucky was gaining irritated by the second was the grip of his metal arm squeezing the chair, slowly crushing it.

“You seriously just going to watch this?” Sam questioned as they both assessed the situation in front of their eyes.

“Sam, stop talking” Bucky’s focus was glued to Sam as he didn’t want to watch the girl he wanted to be his flirt with another man.

“Stupid fucking party anyway! We’ve not even found what we’re looking for” Bucky mumbled under his breath as he slumped lower into his chair maintaining eye contact with Sam.

“Why are you wallowing in your own self-pity Bucky? Just man up and get your girl!” Sam snapped whilst continuing to stare back at Bucky.

“I’m not! She’s a grown ass woman, she can do what she wants.”

“God I wish you knew when to shut up!” Sam scoffed at Bucky’s comment.

“Here I thought we were finally learning to get along huh?” Sam replied making Bucky give a fake smile.

“Yeah well maybe you should stop talking about Y/N.”

“It’s hard not to when anyone can clearly see how much you love each other”

You smiled uncomfortably at the guy who stood in front of you. Feeling uneasy with the attention the guy was giving you, you removed his hands from you shoulder with a polite smile. At first you were having an innocent little conversation to pass the time, you hoped that time would pass, and you could find yourself back with Bucky, but now his unwanted hands were dancing over your body. Your hips, shoulders, lower back. Had this been anywhere but public you would have snapped this guy’s arms in two, but you didn’t want to make a scene.

“I’m flattered, but I’m actually in love with someone.” you spoke sweetly trying to remain calm.

“Look we can just get out of here. I don’t live to far from here” The alcohol on the mans breath made you gag as you inhaled the stench.

“Like I said, I really am flattered but…”

You were cut off by the guy leaning in and attempting to position his lips onto yours

Bucky watched Sam break their stare and twist his head to your direction just in time to see you dodge the kiss from this guy.

“Well shit!” Sam chuckled.

“What is it?” Bucky questioned frantically as he leaned out of his chair, trying to read Sam’s expression. He clasped his hands together, his metal hand slightly squeezing his natural hand.

“The dude just tried to kiss Y/N.”

Before Sam could even turn his head back to face Bucky he was seeing Bucky rapidly stride over to your direction with purpose.

“Finally!” Sam breathed a sigh with a snicker as he stood to attention, ready to intervene if needed.

You had your hands on this guy’s shoulder’s pushing him away, shooting him a look of disgust that he didn’t understand what the words ‘no’ meant.

“Playtime’s over. Move along” Bucky’s husky voice was music to your ears, you let a smile curl onto your lips before quickly removing your hands from the shoulders of the guy in front of you. You looked up to see Bucky stood next to you, his hand snaked round your waist settling just below your hip. You could tell he was unimpressed, but you felt comfort and security at his touch, you knew you could handle the situation, but Bucky’s presence was welcomed.

“Who the hell are you” The guy backed up, looking Bucky up and down, pursing his lips, deciding whether it was worth the fight.

“You don’t want to know who I am…” Bucky cocked his head to the side.

You winced as you felt Bucky’s grip on your skin tighten, you knew it was because this guy was angering him. Letting your hand fall upon his, your thumb gently rubbed the back of Bucky’s to soothe him.

The guy scoffed at Bucky before taking one last look at you, turning up his bottom lip.

“You weren’t that great to look at anyway” The guy was rude as he laughed his comment off, walking away. You felt Bucky’s hand begin to slip out of yours and from your waist ready to beat on the guy, but you held on as tightly as you could, letting Bucky know you’d didn’t want him to do something he’d regret later.

A little silence filled between you and Bucky as you watched the man disappear into the crowd of people. You felt Bucky’s touch at your hips tap you before removing himself and heading back over to Sam, you silently followed Bucky’s direction.

You watched as Bucky flopped into a black leather chair opposite Sam, reigniting his stare.

“Really, you're going to stare at me again?” You heard Sam ask Bucky, who greeted him with a fake ass smile and silence.

“okay, I’m out” Sam declared getting up from his seat and putting his hands up in the air walking away. You sat on the arm of the chair where Bucky sat, crossing one leg over the other. Your fingers stroked at the ends of his short hair, and down his neck as a sign of affection to calm Bucky.

“Well, he was nice” You sighed, trying to strike a conversation with Bucky.

“He was a prick” You could tell from the cold tone of Bucky’s voice and his avoiding gaze that something was up, or that he didn’t want to talk.

“You want to talk about it?” You purposefully and slowly slipped down form the armchair into Bucky’s lap, you wanted to be close to Bucky. Bucky instantly adjusted himself to get comfortable to allow you to take place on his lap, once again putting his hand around your waist, falling at the bottom of you back. You settled your hand on his cheek as you guided his head to meet yours. You observed his eyes, watching them flicker between your lips and eyes, he let his hand rest in between your thighs as he squeezed you closer to him, your bodies touching.

“What’s going on in that brain Bucky?”

“You” His response was quick and simple.

“What about me exactly?” Your faces inched closer to each other as you could hear Bucky’s heavy breathing… the bulge that you sat on getting harder making you feel nervous…nervous with excitement and anticipation.

“Everything Y/N. I’m in fucking love with you” You watched as his blue eyes glistened, you felt and heard him sigh in relief. Or was it your own relief? You knew you liked Bucky and had done for some time now, but the thought of jeopardising that knowing how volatile Bucky could be due to his trauma, you knew it was safer to pretend your feelings were just as close friends.

“Needed to get that off your chest?” You questioned letting your lips hover over his and a hand settling on his chest. His hand slowly trailed up your back, bringing both his hands to meet your cheeks.

“Yeah apparently I did” Bucky let a small smile creep onto his lips, it quickly disappeared as he began staring at you with need.

“You know I did tell that guy that I was flattered by his attention… but I was in love with someone else.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Bucky’s grip on your cheeks from wanting you had relaxed to a softer touch, his fingertips smooth like petals, melting into your skin.

“I think you know who Bucky…”

Bucky’s let his lips linger a little while before making perfectly sure this is what you wanted. His lips finally met yours, the initial kiss felt like velvet, yet it was quick. Pulling away Bucky checked over you, his eyes quickly searching yours for any doubt, his fingers moving the strands of hair that had fallen over one side of your face. Colliding his lips onto yours again, this time intense, starting slow. Seconds passed before you were demanding entry, biting on his bottom lip. You felt Bucky smirk into the kiss, granting you exactly what you wanted, your tongues delicately brushing past each other as the kiss deepened with desire. Kissing Bucky took you to paradise, his kiss was perfectly perfect. You broke away from Bucky wanting to admire his looks and appreciate the moment.

“Is something wrong Y/N?”

You smiled kindly, shaking your head gently, enjoying the electric aura between you and Bucky.

“Can we go home Bucky?” You jumped off Bucky, looking down at his lap and giggling.

“Give me a few moments to sort it out” Bucky clutched at his crotch subtlety, trying to adjust himself. He wore his goofy grin, the one that was so rare to see, knowing he was feeling the happiest he'd been.

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #Sebastian Stan #marvel #Marvel Universe #the winter soldier #the white wolf #The Avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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ain't it fun?

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Trauma Bonding, narcotics anonymous meetings, Strangers to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, meet-cute,

word count: 3.3K

a/n: this is completely self-indulgent and overly personal but i def recommend writing why spencer would love you as a form of therapy

read on ao3

In the blink of an eye, she was up and racing around her apartment. Her mental health was like a teeter-totter, and right now she was on her way to the top. Mania was creeping in; changing from just anxiety-induced butterflied to the feeling that she could jump off a building and survive.

That was never a good time. All she wanted was to either spend all her money, fuck a stranger or get high as shit. It made her legs jumpy and her ears ring and she couldn’t take it anymore. It was all too much.

She threw on a sweater and jeans, her hair was up in a butterfly clip and she hastily threw on her fanny pack full of everything she needed as well as a big coat, and she then left her apartment. She got to the stairs before realizing she actually needed to lock the door.

Her hands shook and she tried to slide the key into the lock, dropping them as her neighbour rushed out of the room and startled her. “Sorry,” she heard him say.

She picked up her keys and turned to look at him, “can you help me? I can’t seem to stop shaking,” she asked as she held her keys towards him.

“yes, sure,” he rushed the words out as he walked towards her, only looking at the keys, never in her eyes. But that was okay, she was never a big fan of eye contact.

He placed her keys back in her hand and took a step back, “are you alright?” he asked.

“No,” she said honestly. “I’m going to find an NA meeting.”

“Do you have one in the area? I haven’t seen you around before?”

She shook her head, surprised that he was also an addict, he didn’t look like he’s ever even smoked weed.

“No, I moved in only a little while ago on a whim, but I think it’s time I got some support,” she said as they started to walk down the hallway together. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Spencer,” he smiled softly. “I’m going to a meeting right now, actually, if you’d like to come? I won’t exactly be anonymous to you, but it’s a good one to go to if you just need one to fill the void until you find your preferred group.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I need.” She smiled at him this time as he held the door open for her. “So, have you lived around here for long?”

“For about a few years now.”

“The building is good then? I was a little hesitant but I needed to get away,” she said, this time holding the door for them to leave the building and turn down the street towards where she knew the subway was.

The moon should be out, she looked up but only sees buildings. It was the one thing she missed the most about not being in the country; seeing the stars and feeling like there was a reason to it all.

“Are you running from someone?” He asks as they start the walk down to the meeting.

“Myself,” she said softly. “I’m on disability and don’t drive and I lived in the middle of nowhere with my parents, well into my 20’s, and I needed a change so my parents surprised me by saving up money for a few month's rent and told me to follow my heart.”

“And you picked Virginia?”

“I stayed in Virginia, just moved into the city. I watch a lot of murder documentaries in my free time, I thought being near Quantico would introduce me to some interesting people, but I have yet to meet anyone from the FBI at all.”

She laughed to herself at how dumb it was that she wanted to meet a profiler like Holden Ford from Mindhunter, “either they are all very good at keeping their jobs secret or Virginia is a very large and densely populated area with a low percentage of FBI agents.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“How long have you lived here?” he asked, slowing as he walked so he could look at her.

“2 months.”

“It took you two months to meet the FBI agent across the hall from you.”

“You’re kidding?” she said, stopping on the sidewalk abruptly. “I knew that apartment was calling me for a reason.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, are you really just coincidentally my neighbour or are you secretly spying on me because you have an evil plan to kill me and my co-workers?” he's completely serious, it's almost scary.

“No offence, Spence, but for a supposed FBI agent that’s a dumb question to ask,” she said, pointing finger guns at him, “you don’t think I’ll give up my cover that easily? Do you?”

He points a finger gun back at her, “technically, I’m a doctor.”

The two of them narrow their eyes at each other, slowly walking in a circle, still facing each other with their make-believe guns trying to hold back smirks. She lowered her ‘weapon’ first. “It’s okay, doctor, don’t worry. I’m not a spy just an idiot with an imagination.”

He giggled softly, “I’ve never felt this comfortable with someone this fast.”

“Well, you are with criminals a lot, right? That would be alarming if you bonded with them,” she said, bumping her shoulder into his as they walked. “But I feel the same. I actually haven’t talked to someone in person in forever.”

“No?”

“I do most of my work and socializing online,” She felt embarrassed, but in today’s day and age, it wasn’t that weird. “I’m not very good outside or with people.”

“If it wasn’t for my job, I don’t think I would go outside very often either. My co-workers are my only friends, they’re more like my family actually.”

“That’s so wonderful to hear, found family is very important,” her smile disappeared as she thought about how alone she was. “Um, can I ask what it is you do at the FBI?”

“Behavioural Analysis.”

“Holy shit," she gasps, knowing way too much about that unit thanks to fucking Netflix, "that’s what the BSU became right? Do you work with the really fucked up shit?” she asked softly.

He laughed, “oh yeah, I really do.”

“Do you share a lot at NA?”

“Kinda, I tend to ramble about facts when I’m nervous so sometimes my short talk becomes more like a ted talk and what was supposed to be just me saying I haven’t relapsed on Dilaudid becomes a lesson on how the human brain works,” he explained, rambling just like he said he would.

She nodded along as he spoke, “funny, that was also my drug of choice.”

“Liquid or oral?”

“Oral. I was given it after I had my appendix out when I was 17. They get you started real young now, big pharma has its hand in everyone's pocket,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “it was rough.”

He hummed in agreement. “I was held captive by an unsub with multiple personalities. One personality drugged me till I died and the other one brought me back.”

“Spencer, Holy fuck?” she stopped and stared at him so incredibly concerned for someone who just met him. She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder and looked him in the eyes, “I know I barely know you, but if you need someone to talk I’m literally always across the hall.”

“Thank you,” he smiled softly as he looked back into her eyes. “The meeting is right there across the street, do you want a coffee first? The place beside it is amazing.”

She nodded and he took her hand, looking both ways before J-walking across the street with her to buy her a coffee and a snack. Maybe that would help her stop shaking, he looked like he worried about her and she wasn't used to that at all.

He didn’t talk at this meeting, he sat in the chair beside the group leader, she sat down across from him in the circle so she could focus. When the floor was opened up to new members, Y/N stood at the first chance she got.

“Hi I’m Y/N,” she said, to which she was welcomed by the crowd.

“I’m new to the city and looking for a new home group, not sure if I’ll stay here because I know Spencer outside of here but I really just needed to come today.”

She takes a deep breath as she thinks of how to start it, opting to just explain it and let the rant go where it may.

“I’ve never lived alone before and it’s incredibly hard to occupy my time without drugs. I still smoke weed to help me sleep at night but my addiction is with Dilaudid and then Benadryl a little after having surgery in high school. I don’t know if it’s my trauma, my disability or my Autism, maybe it’s my OCD, I really don’t know, but I just feel so useless and alone and boring and lonely, the drugs used to help but they don’t anymore and I really just don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

They all looked like they understood, small smiles grew all around the circle as she took a lookout at the crowd, “Thank you for letting me get that out.”

Everyone clapped as she sat back down and wiped a tear off her cheek.

The meeting ended shortly after that, Spencer walked from his seat in the circle to where she was sitting, reaching a hand out to help her to her feet. “For the record, I think you’re funny, smart, kind and pretty. And you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”

She slapped her hand into his and stood up with purpose, “Did we just become best friends?”

“I believe we did.”

The walk home was much like the walk there. They traded facts, they flirted, they laughed, she pushed him into a pole at one point, by accident as they laughed. The two of them stopping to sit at a bus bench, laughing so hard she felt like she would pee her pants right then and there.

By the time they were back on their floor, it was well after midnight. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to meetings with you.”

“Oh, why?” he looked disappointed.

“Isn’t rule 13 that you’re not supposed to want to sleep with your group members when you’re healing?”

“Wanting to and doing it are two very different things,” he corrected her as he waited at his own door.

She smirked, “you’re right. Still don’t think I can go back with you, however.”

“I’ll probably have a case tomorrow, they normally take me out of town for at least a week, but when I get back, can I see you?” he asked lightly.

“Knock on my door when you get back,” she said before standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “See you.”

“Bye.”

They waved from their doors before departing, excited by something that felt better than drugs.

—

120 hours later there was a light knock at her door, she knows exactly how long it’s been because she’s been counting and looking out the door at every noise for the whole time he’s been gone. Waiting for him like a wife whose husband went off to war, not knowing when their next correspondence would be.

“Coming,” she called, stopping to fluff her hair and straighten her glasses before she opened the door.

“Spencer!”

“Hi,” he said softly.

She took a moment to look him over, a little in shock at what she saw. He was in a plain t-shirt and track pants, he had not one, but two black eyes, bandages on his brow bone and scrapes all along his arms.

“Are you okay?”

“You should see the other guy,” he giggled softly, rolling his eyes.

“Come in, let’s sit you down.” She worried, taking him by the elbow and helping him inside.

“I’m fine, really, I’m used to this.”

“Well I’m not,” she reminded him with a nervous pout, “am I allowed to ask about it or is it classified stuff?”

He sat on the couch and patted a seat beside himself so she would join him. He rested his arm against the back of the chair so that she could slide in beside him.

“Did you hear about the child abduction in Tampa?”

“Yeah? The two boys?”

“I was trying to talk the unsub down and he dropped the gun but he grabbed me as I turned him around and punched me in the face and we fell into the ditch and I luckily managed to flip over him and get his hands behind his back and cuffed faster than I ever have before.”

“You’re amazing,” she whispered.

He laughed, “if I really was, I would have waited for backup before talking to the guy.”

“I’ve always wanted to help other people get justice but not being able to go to school makes it hard to get a job doing anything meaningful,” she whispered, ashamed of the fact she wasn’t successful like most people her age.

“Our technical analyst was hired because she was an amazing hacker, they will hire anyone who is valuable.” He shrugs and watches her face light up at the idea.

“You know what, we have meetings all this week unless there’s an emergency, if you want I can show you around the office?” he offered. “It’s not illegal for you to pass by what I’m working on and notice something I missed.”

“Spencer, I don’t even know your last name and you’re inviting me to your government job? When just last week you asked, not so jokingly, if I was a secret agent trying to kill you and that you’ve been kidnapped before?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, and what can I say?” he said shyly, “I’m trying to find excuses to see you smile all the time.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, the tips of her fingers lightly resting on his purple and yellow bruised eyes. She leaned in slowly and kissed him on the lips, so gently as if she’s afraid he’ll break or turn into a frog… he was too good to be true.

“You can see me whenever you want, Doctor Spencer Reid…”

He kissed her again, letting his hands roam her back and she trailed her free hand down his chest. She pulled back slightly to throw a leg over him carefully and sit in his lap. Holding his face in her hands now, she peppered kisses over his bruised face.

She stopped to look at him, still holding his face in her hands as his hands now rested on her hips. “I really like you, Spencer.”

“Really?”

She looks at him carefully, analyzing his response and seeing the hurt that rested deep inside of him, “I take it you’re like me?”

“What does that mean?”

“You try to not get too involved with people because no one has ever shown you true genuine interest or love, and you never think you’ll find it anyway so you push away all small acts of kindness, thinking it’s friendly because then you can’t get your hope up, just to have that person drop them?” she explained herself in a whisper.

He nodded, “you get it.”

She kissed his lips again, and then over his cheek and up to his ear, “I do.”

He looked extra sad when she pulled away, she just held his face gently as she mirrored his puppy dog eyes. Communicating with their eyes, she knew he was okay and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so she smiled.

“Want to watch a movie?” She asks softly.

He nods, looking behind her to see she doesn’t have a tv in the living room. “How?”

“In my room, the TV is on my dresser if you don’t mind sitting in my bed?”

He shakes his head in a simple no, picking her up and taking her to her room. He knew where it was purely because her apartment was just his but backwards. She laughs, holding onto him tight as she rests her head on his shoulder.

He sets her down gently, watching her move up to the headboard and wait for him. They got under the blankets and she found the remote in the sheet before she cuddled into him.

“You’re really cuddly,” she complimented him as he wrapped an arm around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.

“I think I’m going to end up falling in love with you, Spencer Reid,” she whispers the words, afraid of them more than his response.

“I beat you to it,” he whispers right back.

She shoots up, turning to look at him with surprise. “How?”

He looks at her like she grew two heads, “what do you mean how?”

“How did you fall in love with me? You don’t even know me?” She’s so confused, no one has ever loved her before and it’s a lot to take in.

“Y/N…” his face drops, his heart physically breaks in front of her. “I don’t know you, you're right. Not all of you, at least. I’m sure you have your hidden doors and locked cupboards but from the outside, I see you’re so beautiful, you’re radiant… your mind is lovely. You’re so kind, you’re so brave, you’re everything I wish I could be as charismatically as you are.”

She’s just swallowing over and over as she shakes her head and breathes through her nose, processing it. She’s breathing deeply then, staring off and she feels like she’s having a new kind of panic attack. A happier one, somehow?

“I don’t like myself, but if you like me I guess I must be pretty nice,” she smiles, accepting his praise and believing him. “Yeah. Thank you, Spencer.”

He smiles then, it’s cute and press-lipped and she swears he almost has dimples. His eyes are like honey and his lips are like roses. She leans in, kissing him and reaching a hand back to cup the nape of his neck.

He doesn’t know it, but he’s the first person she’s kissed in a few years. They’re soft, peck after peck as they hold each other softly, eyes open as they watch each other experience the happiness of finding someone good, finally.

“I uh, I wanted to tell you I’m almost exactly everything you described yourself as in the meeting,” he whispers against her lips, the air touching her skin gently as she absorbs the words.

“What part? My diagnosis or my self-hatred?” She smiles, okay with either really.

“Almost both, I’m pretty hard to be around.”

She shakes her head, “I invited you in for a movie, not a pity party. You can tell me everything you hate right now and then we should just share the good parts okay? Brag about yourself. Tell me what you’re proud of.”

She was really serious, keeping a stern look on her face as she spoke. He nodded, “I’m anxious all the time, I’m always worried because I’ve never had anyone to worry about me. I don’t know how to be a real person really, all I do is drink coffee and solve crimes and I barely sleep. And the only time I was relaxed and okay is when I was on drugs.”

She nodded, “it fucking sucks, doesn’t it? Like why did we get stuck like this, I don't care about peaking in high school but didn’t we deserve some kind of love and support? I’ve never understood if souls and shit are real, why did mine pick this terrible meat suit and awful traumatic path?”

She’s crying because she’s angry and because she’s never said it to anyone before. He cries because she understands. She truly knows.

“I love you,” he announces. “Just because of that.”

Taglist: @blanchardsbk @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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youare-mysonshine · 3 years

Text

heavy || bucky barnes

Summary: reader’s mental health has been taking a decline and bucky is there.

Requested: No

Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: talks of mental health, depression, anxiety, angst, cussing.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Hey guys, I’m back I guess lmao. I’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately and I guess I kinda just wanted to put it into words, something productive? And I’ve been feeling our angsty emo boy bucky barnes. Most of you might’ve followed me for my Oscar fics but I kinda wanna branch out and I thought this would be a good time to do so. Anyways, I know that some of you have inboxed me or messaged me and I haven’t responded and I’m sorry. But I just want you all to know that if you’re struggling, I’m always here to talk. About anything, always. So, I hope you enjoy this. I might’ve cried while writing this lmao and I also might’ve ended it on such an awkward place but, i’m still getting used to writing again. (Flashbacks are in italics)

————

Bucky didn’t miss the dark circles under your eyes. He didn’t miss the way you sort of slouched as you approached him. He didn’t miss the way that your smile didn’t really meet your eyes.

“Hey,” You said in a breathless voice. “Sorry, I’m late. I got held up.” You said as you took a seat across from him in the booth. Held up. It was better than telling him that you were thinking of just not showing up at all. In the end, you knew that you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t just blow off your new friend who you had so enjoyed spending time with. So, in a rush, you got dressed and made your way to the small, quiet diner that you two had taken to frequenting together. Bucky Barnes was an enigma if you’d ever met one. The way that you had met was rather.. cliche and something straight from a story.

You had been trying to lay off of the caffeine for a while, realizing that you had nearly gone through an entire packet of 32 k-pods that you had just purchased. You realized that you might’ve had a problem. You had been going pretty strong with staying away from caffeine for the time being, until you passed by a coffee shop and got a whiff of coffee. You just couldn’t help yourself; you bought a cup of coffee. It was when you were walking down the street, holding the cup of coffee in one hand, looking down, that you didn’t see someone walking right in your path. You had collided into what seemed like a solid wall and the impact had caused you to squeeze the cup of coffee in surprise, the warm liquid burning your hand, staining your clothes and the other person. You had realized it was another person you had crashed into when you heard them let out a low cuss.

Bucky’s grumpy self had been fully prepared to tell you off for crashing into him, having just left his therapist’s office, but when you looked up at him with those bright eyes of yours, a million apologies spilling from your lips a mile a minute, he swallowed whatever harsh words had nearly sprung forth. He had apologized as well; both of you had been at fault. Bucky had been going over his session with Dr. Raynor that morning, completely lost in his own mind, and you had your eyes trained on the ground, something that was a bad habit of yours. The shock of realizing you had bumped into a man, a really really handsome man with the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen, had made you temporarily forget that you had practically scorched your hand with the coffee, and that you had gotten it on him as well.

“I’m so, so sorry.” You said once again, quickly averting your eyes from the handsome stranger’s face. Instead you focused on the smushed cup in your hand and the stains on his leather jacket. It just made you feel even terrible. “I, I can pay for you to get your jacket cleaned, if you want. Really. I wasn’t paying attention and I just, for whatever reason, squished my cup and.. I’m sorry.” You said, kind of breathlessly.

“It’s.. it’s alright.” His voice was like the coffee that you had been drinking. Smooth and rich. It was deep, something that reverberated deep in your chest and had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. “I wasn’t paying attention either. Really, it’s fine. And don’t worry about my jacket. No harm, no foul.” He said. “You should, uh, you should take care of that hand. Hope you didn’t burn yourself too bad.” He gestured to your hand, still clutching the cup, with one of his own gloved hands.

“Oh, I’ll be fine. It wasn’t that hot. Thank you, though. And again, I’m really, really sorry.” Sparing one, seemingly, last glance at the handsome stranger, you side stepped him and began to walk away, tossing the empty cup of coffee in a trash can on the sidewalk. But you didn’t get very far because that deep voice called out to you, halting you in your tracks.

“Can I buy you another cup of coffee?” Bucky’s mouth had opened and spoken the words long before his brain could even catch up. He didn’t know why he had asked you that, but something in his gut was just telling him too.

“What?” A look of total bewilderment had crossed your face and he had seen it.

“I just, well I thought that, since I bumped into you, I could make it up to you by buying you a new cup of coffee. If you wanted, I mean. You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” Bucky clarified, hand stuffed in his pocket, waiting for your answer. For a few seconds, you simply stood there, unsure of what to say because surely this wasn’t happening? The last time that you had gone out with a guy was.. well, shit, you didn’t even remember the last time. The little voice in the back of your head, that anxious, paranoid little voice, was telling you not to go off with a stranger. You’d watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds and other true crime shows and documentaries to know that situations like this never turned out well. However, you didn’t get a bad feeling from this particular man. He seemed just as awkward and slightly frazzled as you felt. So you agreed.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

That had happened about two months ago. Ever since then, you and Bucky had formed a strong friendship. Your first time getting coffee with him had been awkward, as were the next few times that you had seen one another. But things got easier. Becoming friends was easy. You kind of fell into this routine, almost as if you two had known each other your whole lives. That was why Bucky telling you who he really was had been terrifying for him. He carried around guilt and shame and just contempt for everything he’d done. Everything The Winter Soldier represented, and when he told you, he figured that you would think the same. He had asked you meet him at the diner that had now become your spot and and you remember how he nervously wrung his gloved hands together. You remember when you asked him what was wrong and he didn’t verbally respond but he took off his gloves; the right one first and then the left, revealing a shiny black metal hand, golden lines intricately placed.

He told you then. Maybe he didn’t tell you everything but he told you who he was and he had braced himself for you to get up and storm out. Or, to yell at him and tell him how much of a monster he was. But, it never came. Instead, you reached out and placed your hand on top his. Not his real hand, but the metal one. You didn’t say anything. You just gave him that smile that was quickly becoming his favorite. Sometimes, silence spoke a thousand words. To Bucky, you had become kind of a respite for him. Even in the late nights or mornings when he woke up after a nightmare. Or after a particularly hard session with Dr. Raynor. He had closed himself off from other people except you.

Bucky might not have known it, but he gave you the same level of comfort as you gave him. You found yourself craving his presence. Every time you were around him, you couldn’t help but to smile or laugh. In the time that you spent together, your mind was clear and free from all your worries. It all evaporated into thin air. Your mind, usually so active with all sorts of thoughts and worries, could finally rest when you were with Bucky. You could sleep. You could get up in the morning without that stress and anxiety drowning you. It was okay. It was great.

Until it wasn’t.

“No problem, doll.” He said, gloved hands clasped under the table on his lap. “I already ordered. Got your usual. Hope that was alright.” He added, to which you nodded absentmindedly.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Thanks Buck.” You said, mustering up a half hearted smile that didn’t reach your eyes. It was like even smiling drained the energy from you. You were exhausted. Not even just physically but mentally and emotionally. You had been having such good days for a while now, since meeting Bucky. You felt like maybe you would finally be alright but.. this feeling of hopelessness, the feeling that nothing was quite right, it was heavy. It weighed you down. It suffocated you. You wanted to be alone, but you also couldn’t stand to be alone because when you were alone, you were just stuck in your head and being in your head was the absolute worst place to be.

The intrusive thoughts had started. They told you that you would do nothing but weigh Bucky down. That he didn’t need someone like you in his life, someone with clear problems of their own, when he was going to therapy trying to better himself. Even if it had been mandatory for him to go. You wanted to push him away, save him from yourself, but you also couldn’t stand the thought of losing him.

Bucky noticed the shift in you. Normally when you two met up, whether it was at the diner or anywhere else, you would usually talk his ear off. Not that he minded, he was content to just sit back and listen to you. Sometimes, you’d tell him about a new book that you had started reading. You had just started reading the fifth Harry Potter book and you were trying to get him to read them. You’d tell him about your day. You’d ask him how his day went, how it went with Dr. Raynor, though you never pushed for more information. You always let him share if he was comfortable with it and he appreciated that. Sometimes you teased him for being such an old man.

The food came soon after you had arrived and sure enough, Bucky had ordered your usual. It sent a pang through your heart when you realized that he had memorized your order, down to the extra syrup and whipped cream on the pancakes. Bucky always liked to make fun of you for ordering the same thing when you came to the diner. No matter what time it was, you always ordered the pancakes with extra syrup and extra whip cream, with the strawberries on the side. Secretly, though he found it adorable.

Today, you had barely even taken more than a few bites and that was what really let Bucky know that something wasn’t right. You kept your head down, eyes on the pancakes and you cut them up, bringing a few up to your mouth and chewing slowly, but you mostly just moved them around your plate with the fork in your hand. Bucky himself had barely taken only a few bites of the food he’d ordered for himself, but it wasn’t for lack of appetite, it was because of the growing concern. His bright blue eyes were now a stormy grey, kind of like the clouds that you see during a heavy storm. His brows were furrowed, giving him an appearance almost as if he were angry.

“You alright, Y/N? You’ve barely eaten your food and normally you finish before I do.” He attempted to joke, to bring about that smile that seemed to always fill him with warmth. He half expected you to look up at him with that cheeky little smile, a mischievous look in your eyes and say “You know, I would be offended by that, but I know why you eat so slow, Buck. I completely understand. You don’t want your dentures to fall out.” But it never came.

You don’t know what it was. Bucky asking you if you were alright or if it was simply all the pressure of just.. everything, finally breaking, but you could feel the hot tears in your eyes. They blurred your vision until you couldn’t really see the plate of the pancakes in focus. The dam had finally come apart and you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You set the fork down and buried your face in your hands, your shoulders lightly shaking as you began to cry. All Bucky could do was stare for a few seconds, alarm written all over his face. Alarm and distress because he had no idea what just happened and if he had done something to upset you.

“Woah woah, hey. Sweetheart, hey. What’s wrong?” In seconds, Bucky was out of his side of the booth and scooting in beside you. You felt the comfort of his warmth, you felt his arm tentatively, almost hesitantly, slide around your shoulders and anchor you to him. You shook your head, attempting to calm down, to stop the tears but the more you tried, the more they seemed to come.

“I-I’m sorry, Bucky.. I.. I’m sorry.. I-I’m fine. Really.” You said, sniffling. It was apparent to you both that you were not alright and he really just wanted to get to the bottom of it. Or at least attempt to comfort you. But doing that in the middle of a diner with other people around wasn’t ideal.

“Hey, my apartment is only a short walk away. Come on, let’s get you out of here and somewhere more quiet.” You didn’t protest. You just nodded and slid out of the booth after he did. Bucky took out his wallet and placed a few bills on the table, paying for the uneaten food, and then quickly led you out of the establishment. He kept his hand on you, almost like an anchor. Whether it was to reassure you or himself, he didn’t know and you didn’t mind either. It was probably the only thing that kept you from retreating inside of your mind and giving in to the panic that so desperately wanted out.

You didn’t even realize that you had reached his apartment until he had led you up the stairs and you were standing behind him as he unlocked the door. He allowed you to step in first and then quickly followed behind you, shutting the door as he did so. You didn’t really get the chance to take in his apartment because he had ushered you to sit on his couch while he knelt in front of you.

“Alright, you’re scarin’ me here, doll. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” The sheer look of concern and slight panic in his face and those pretty eyes of his made the waterworks come back again. You shook your head, your face scrunched up in anguish. Hot bullet tears fell from your eyes and left a wet path in their wake down your cheeks. Bucky wasn’t one to pry; he hated it when people tried to pry into his life and he didn’t do it to you, but he couldn’t stand the sight of seeing you cry. He couldn’t stand the sight of your once bright eyes and cheery smile just.. gone. You eyes were sad and your lips were pulled into a frown. “Talk to me, baby.” He practically pleaded.

“I just.. I don’t.. I don’t know how to explain it, Buck.” You cried. “I-I.. I just feel like..” You let out a frustrated cry when you couldn’t find the right words but Bucky was patient. He reached a hand up, cupping your cheek and wiping away the tears that kept falling. “I don’t feel.. happy. Everyday I wake up and I just, I feel fine for like a few seconds and then everything just comes crashing down on me. I can’t ever stop thinking. I can’t sleep at night. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like this, Bucky. And I feel fucking crazy. Sometimes I feel like you don’t even really like me. I feel.. hopeless, like nothing is ever going to be okay. I might feel okay for a few seconds but then it just goes away.” You explained, though you were sure that you probably sounded like a raving and ranting lunatic. “Before I met you, I liked being alone but I also hated it because when I was alone, I would just overthink and overthink and overthink about every fucking thing. If it wasn’t one thing it was another just giving me such bad anxiety and.. I don’t know what to do anymore, Bucky. I’m just tired of feeling like this. Feeling like nothing is ever going to be okay, like I’m never going to be okay. I just feel.. alone.”

His heart was well and truly broken. In the two months that he’d known you, he hadn’t known how badly you had struggled with your mental health. He hadn’t known the war that you fought within your mind, and how bad it had become. You were such saving grace for Bucky; you saved him from the wars inside of his mind. The constant feeling of guilt that he fought with on a daily basis, and now.. he just wanted to do the same for you. He wanted to shoulder some of the pain that you carried, the pain that seemed to be weighing you down. Both of his hands now cupped your cheeks so delicately, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. His blue eyes were shining, looking at you with not pity, but something like.. understanding. If anyone knew what you were feeling, it was Bucky.

“You’re not alone.” His smooth and rich voice was so soft, so gentle that it brought on a new set of tears. “You’re not alone, sweetheart. Not anymore. You know why? Cause you got me.” He said. “I know what it’s like to feel hopeless. To feel stuck in your head. To feel like nothing is ever gonna get better. I felt like that in Wakanda. Sometimes.. sometimes, we need help. And I know I’m not one to be talking considering that I don’t really like talking to my therapist or even going,” That roused the smallest of smiles from you. “I’m here. You know that, right? I’m here. You got me and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I don’t care if you have a million bad days. I don’t care if you feel like you’re bothering me. I’ll be there every time.” You two have gradually gravitated close to one another until your foreheads were pressed together. Bucky was still knelt in front of you on the couch, his hands still holding your cheeks. Your eyes were closed and you could feel his warm breath fanning your face. The tears had stopped falling but you were still sniffling softly. “You’ve helped me. Even if you don’t know it. You’ve helped me.” He was whispering. There was no one but you two in his apartment but he was still whispering the words meant for only you to hear. “Now, let me help you. Please.”

“Okay. I trust you, Bucky.”

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #tfatws #mcu #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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theonewiththefanfics · 3 years

Text

Shield (one-shot)

Synopsis: To the new Captain America she might just be a human shield. But Bucky can see there’s more to it. What he can’t understand is why she stays.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, lil bit of fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood and guns, swearing, torture, low mental state etc.

Word count: 3591

I am going absolutely feral about the fact that a portion of the series takes place in Latvia as I am Latvian :D Just seeing the signs and streets (which are not really ours cause they filmed in Prague, but are similar enough I can envision it), especially because we’re such a small country is amazeballs, so to be in such a huge show with my MCU faves is insane. Had the same kind of reaction to Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Nikolaj and the Captain Latvia episode. Riga hammer for the win :D

P.S. John Walker is not Captain America cause he does not posses America’s ass. Also Zemo is one hundred percent Bucky’s and Sam’s sugar daddy. I won’t accept any dispute over this.

P.S.S. please also remember - John Walker is a character not a real person. John Walker is played by an actor who is doing his job the same way the actor who played Joffrey did. Do not harass him etc. but rather appreciate the insane talent he has. This place is a Wyatt Russell stan place.

P.S.S.S. Kinda spoilers for the show so if you haven’t seen it, don’t read this.

He hated him. Bucky genuinely hates him. He never thought he had despised something or someone so much, not even HYDRA, as much as he hated John Walker – the new Captain America. He wanted to scream at that, at the fact that this arrogant asshole was carrying Steve’s shield, the symbol of freedom and everything good, while in reality, he embodied none of what it stood for.

Walker and what he’d learned his sidekick was Battlestar, had swooped in from a helicopter while Sam and he had been following the Flag-Smasher vehicles, and, well, they hadn’t been a lot of help, which he shouldn’t be too surprised about. But what he had been surprised about was when they’d all been thrown off of the semi-trucks and scattered all around a field, someone else had been in the mix as well.

A young woman with Y/H/C hair and determined Y/E/C eyes was rushing towards them, screaming for them to stay on the ground. When Bucky looked behind, he could see why given how one of the radicalised people had jumped from the trucks and was barreling at them with an automatic cocked at them

But it wasn’t Walker who jumped up running past her, shield at the ready to take on the fire. No. He just remained sitting as the stranger kept her pace. She leapt at the two with a grace of a cat, pushing him and Sam back to the ground and immediately got blown back by the received ammunition, gasps leaving her mouth as the bullets entered her body.

Sam’s wings extended and created a body length shield as Bucky snatched one of the knives strapped to the man’s side and flung it with deadly accuracy into the Flag-Smasher’s neck, dropping him to the ground.

There was blood when he looked back. There was so much blood, and once again it was all over Bucky’s hands, and he couldn’t breathe properly, pressing down on her abdomen and shoulder and side, and. oh god, there were too many bullet wounds...

Two wide Y/E/C eyes stared back up at him, mouth gasping down shallow breaths as he held down on her wounds trying to stop the blood from pouring out. God, there was so much of it.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he gritted, his body trembling. “Well get you help. You’ll be alright.”

But then Walker spoke up, and Bucky saw read because of a different reason. “She’s fine, just leave it.”

His head snapped to see that arrogant bastard cross his arms as he hissed. “Leave it? She’s fucking bleeding out! She took those bullets for you, and you just want to leave it?!”

Walker just smirked, nudging his chin towards her body. “You’ll see.”

“You let her use herself as a shield while you did nothing!”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because that’s her whole point.”

And that’s when Bucky felt her skin shift underneath his hands. Slowly the blood stopped pouring out, Y/N’s breathing evened, and her eyes closed not because death was calling, but because of relief as the regenerative cells kicked into high gear.

Bucky gazed in wonder as the wounds closed up, and when only scar tissue remained he snapped his blue eyes to her, Y/E/C ones already staring back at him.

“Who are you?” he whispered

“A human shield that’s what,” Walker answered in her stead, but Bucky just sneered.

“I asked who, not a what. She’s a fucking person.”

Once more he looked back down and saw a strange look in her eyes. It was as if she was trying to decipher what those words meant, but once the shock from such a huge assault had ended, she gulped down a breath and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

A lopsided one came to grace his own face. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky.” Her eyebrow rose. “Well, it’s very nice to finally meet you.”

He smiled at her, and not the painful smile he’d given the senator before her arrest, but a real genuine smile, one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.

“And it’s very nice you didn’t decide to die on us.”

“Yeah, yeah, can we cut this meet and greet shorter?” Walker interrupted them, and if Bucky hadn’t been holding onto Y/N’s shoulder as she tried to rise from the ground, he would’ve punched the guy.

“I told you she was going to be fine.”

Bucky threw him his best murder glare but stopped when he felt Y/N squeeze his hand as if saying ‘don’t bother.' His brows furrowed in confusion. She just shook her head.

“We should still find you a hospital.” He talked to Y/N directly, ignoring what the new Captain was saying. “It doesn’t matter that you can survive something like that, I’d rather make sure you’re checked out by professionals.

“It won’t be necessary.” Walker slipped the shield on his arm and nudged his partner to start walking with him, pretty much expecting the rest to follow. “It was her choice anyway to take the hits.”

“It doesn’t mean she should!” Bucky pretty much hollered, startling even Sam.

At that, he saw Y/N’s eyes widen and her head snap up to look at him. All the breath got knocked out from Bucky at the emotion in her face. It was like she didn’t believe what he was saying like she didn’t know it was a possibility to not put her own life before someone else’s, that maybe someone is supposed to do it for her, someone could protect her.

“She absorbs fucking bullets and infuses them in her body.” John mocked. “I’d say it’s a win-win on both sides. Everyone else stays safe, and she gets stronger, right? The whole bleeding thing is a hitch in the system, but our guys say with enough scuffles that should stop as well.”

Walker looked at her. Y/N just gulped, staring back down at the ground between her knees.

When he looked back at everything the moment he’d seen Zemo in the cell and the asshole had said something still remained in him from the Winter Soldier, came back to connect with the scene. He’d hated that sentence because Bucky knew it was true. The Soldier would always be a part of him, but that was what therapy was for – to accept it and let go. But in that minute, he wouldn’t have cared one bit if the ruthless assassin came to the surface if it meant snapping Walker’s neck like a stick.

He treated the woman as if she was below him, as if Steve’s shield somehow made him better than her, better than anyone, and yet, even when he’d been given the privilege to carry it, he’d rather use a human person, no matter if they had powers, as a shield.

A soft hand touched his side, and Bucky looked at Y/N, his breathing heavy at Walker’s words.

“I’m alright.” Her voice was softer than he thought it would be. Maybe it was because she was trying to stay out of John’s earshot, but even the gentle whisper made something in Bucky’s chest stir. “Thank you,” she said. “For checking up on me.”

Bucky stiffly nodded, standing up and offering both his hands for her to take, but even with that, it took Sam holding her by the waist to be able to stand. The Falcon had to catch her, in fact, when she took her first steps, an awkward chuckle escaping her mouth.

“It’s been a while since a hit like this.”

Sam quirked a brow and smirked. “You always have a tendency to do stupid shit like that?”

Y/N’s whole body relaxed as he said so, and a sting went through Bucky’s own. How bad were they treating her if basic kindness and a little bit of joking made her feel so safe?

Just as he was about to ask her more, to offer to take her with them, Walker spoke up again. That conversation was an absolute disaster, and the fact that Walker thought Sam and him would actually ever consider working with him on this mission was idiotic.

It ended with the two Avengers watching how Walker threw an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, making her knees buckle with the weight, her from still regaining strength, but he didn’t care, just dragged her along with him and Battlestar.

“Are we just gonna let ‘em do that to her?” Bucky sneered, arms crossed watching their retreating forms over the field.

He felt Sam glower next to him. “There’s not much we can do.”

He hated that he was right.

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. One meeting had left him shaken to the core not just about her, but about how there was something deeply off with the new Captain America, that if they didn’t take action something horrible would happen, not just because of his arrogance, but because of some seed he could feel had rooted itself in the other man’s heart.

But by that point they’d been in Madripoor, had met Sharon who’d been on the run from the US government ever since the dismantlement of the Avengers, and had now followed a lead to where the Flag-Smashers had settled in Latvia.

Zemo seemed to not only have a billion cars, but a billion apartments scattered around the world, this one being in the heart of the Old Town.

Bucky was on the roof looking over the twinkling lights of the city. His bed had been too soft as it always was, and even the floor wasn’t it for him, not a wink of sleep coming his way as his thoughts were flooded by Y/N.

Well, the sleep part wasn’t true. He had been able to drift off, only to dream of how the woman didn’t get better, didn’t absorb those bullets and had died right in his arms. That’s when he decided he needed a breath of fresh air.

The sound of shuffling feet made him whip around from the scenic view only to be greeted by a form he’d now recognise in a full-on ski-suit in pitch-black darkness.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky stood up wanting to stride over and check her for any wounds she might’ve gotten while around Walker. Any new scar on her body would mean the same number of teeth he’d knock from that Walmart-version-Captain-America’s mouth.

“Came to warn you.” She shrugged, soft winds making her coat flutter. “John and Lemar are resting, but come morning they’ll be on your ass, so you might wanna make a move now.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t get you. You’re nothing like them, I can see that you know how wrong it is, for him to be carrying that shield, that he’s making a mockery out of the name and legacy Steve built, and yet…”

Y/N hung her head lifting her shoulders, hands in her pockets. “I gotta do what I gotta do.”

“He’s an asshole,” Bucky hissed.

Y/N gave him a painful look. “I know. But I don’t have anywhere to go. Besides… you have your own way of making amends. Well, this is mine.”

Dark brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She let out a painful chuckle, not because of the memories now plaguing her waking thoughts, but because her wounds were still healing, and instantly Bucky came closer and took her hand, running a soothing thumb over her palm. Wounds he was sure were new.

Y/N froze at his touch, and Bucky was about to pull away when she put her own thumb over his. He had to bite back tears at how tenderly she was looking down at his palm. Like no one had ever comforted her when it hurt.

“When the Blip happened,” she started, voice low and quiet. “I watched how my sister and mom disappeared right in front of my eyes. We were driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, and there was a truck before us. It was carrying loads of metal scraps. The driver of the truck got blipped as well.” She swallowed harshly. “I can still feel how the beam went through my shoulder, how it broke the bone and skin, and how I just wanted to disappear like they had just to make the pain stop. But I didn’t. It hurt so bad.” Y/N looked at Bucky, tears running down her face. “It was burning and tearing, and so much pain… and all I could do was scream, but no one heard me because everyone else was screaming, and I was just one of the thousands doing it.”

Y/N shook her head, and when Bucky leaned closer to wipe away the tears, she sighed at the feeling. “I passed out sometime later. From the pain the… well, everything. And when I woke up, I heard people outside the door, trying to rip it open, I could see red lights flashing, but where I expected that beam to be was nothing. When I looked down at myself there was a hole in my shirt, but instead of a hole in my shoulder, a round scar was the only thing left from that moment.”

“They took me to the hospital, and when they tried to put an IV in, my body just swallowed up the needle.” She took a shaky breath, and Bucky squeezed her side. ‘Go on’ he tried to convey with the touch. ‘I’m here.’

“That’s when the tests started. They were fine at first. Blood samples when they managed to get any, saliva and all that good jazz… but then they started poking. And poking turned into slicing which turned into stabbing until I was their personal pincushion, as they tried to see what my body would and wouldn’t take.”

Y/N was shaking by that point, but not because of the wind that had picked up, but because of anger, of the horror, she’d had to go through. It took everything in Bucky to remain calm and let her continue.

“Two years they did that. And then one time they went a bit too far. Someone had stolen a vibranium spear from the Dora Milaje.”

Bucky’s breath got caught in his throat. He wasn’t moving a muscle.

“They wanted to know if I could absorb the strongest metal on Earth, so slowly…” Her hands went to her front, to the white blouse she was wearing and started popping open the buttons. Bucky was just about to protest when he understood.

“They pushed the spear too far.” Her finger ran over a rhomb shaped scar right in the centre of her chest. Right over her heart. “Pushed it right through.”

“How did you survive?” Bucky was appalled, but in awe at the same time.

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t. I died then and there on the table. They took my body and dumped it in some ditch. From my own calculations, it took me about a day to heal. They’d sown in a scalpel in my stomach a few hours before, so I’m assuming it used that as the binding material for the cells.”

“I was so angry.” She looked at him. “At everyone, at myself, that I couldn’t help my family, that I allowed them to just use me like that, I just went off the deep end. I did so many bad things…” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I read about the Winter Soldier, y’know. His whole thing was efficiency, quickness. I – “ She choked on her words. “I wasn’t. I wanted to drag it out. Wanted to find each and every one of the bastards who laid their hands on me and make them suffer as I did.”

Bucky’s hand settled on her waist as he pulled her closer, feeling her body keen at the motion as she looked for reassurance. “I’m not a good person, Bucky. This.” She motioned with her head to her body. “This is my repentance for what I did.”

“What he’s doing is not right. What they’re making you do is not right.” Bucky shook his head. “Just because it might not kill you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. No one had any right to touch you.”

“It’s the price I pay for what I did.”

“Pain?”

Y/N nodded. “Eye for an eye. Pain for the pain I caused.”

Bucky shook his head. “That’s not right.”

“How else am I supposed to do this?”

“By getting help yourself first.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and Bucky sighed. He understood how impossible that thought seemed, that someone who’s done so much bad could deserve help from others, but he understood her situation better than anyone. “Being here,” he said, “being able to say these things… I can only do that because I got help. It was mandated by the state, but nevertheless…” Both chuckled at that, and Bucky’s heart lightened at the sound, at the genuine sound of joy from her. “But the therapy… I hate to say this, but it helped. It’s not easy. I sometimes detest going to the sessions, and I might be failing them quite miserably right now, especially with rule number two –“

“What’s rule number two?”

“Don’t hurt anyone,” Bucky mumbled. “And I’ve broken it quite a lot recently, I know that which will either make me end up behind bars or will add more therapy sessions to the list, but I’m not afraid anymore.”

Y/N gulped, gazing just as intensely at Bucky as he was at her. “Of what?”

“Of reaching out.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Of asking for help. Of understanding that I deserve help, and I deserve to receive it.”

“Yeah, but the thing is I’m not like you.” Y/N looked away from him. “No one forced me to do this, no one brainwashed me. I did everything out of my own volition. Me. No one else. You deserve that help because HYDRA did all those things to you. You are a victim of war. I’m not. All those horrible things I did… I did them. Not some alias of mine.”

Bucky’s heart hurt at the fact that Y/N couldn’t see she was a victim of her own circumstance, and how now the government was punishing her for it. And that’s when another brick hit him – it was exactly like Isaiah’s situation. Both came from marginalised groups, parts of society where the ones in power have been trying to oppress and control them for as long as he could remember, he just couldn’t see it. He could see Sam’s point of view now. Maybe not as clearly as he should, but he was starting to wipe away the fog.

“They used you just as much as HYDRA used me.” He asserted, and Y/N’s eyes widened at his sure statement. “Just because a pile of shit has a bowtie on now, doesn’t mean it’s no longer a pile of shit… Come with us.” Bucky’s forehead pressed to hers. “Let’s do this the right way.”

“It’s mandated by the US government that I stay by John’s side and help him.”

Bucky smirked at that, nudging his nose against Y/N’s. “Well, it’s a good thing we’re in Latvia then. Besides Captain America has no pull here.”

She laughed, warm breath slipping over Bucky’s skin, and he had to close his eyes as the thought of her breathless and underneath him invaded his mind. “Unfortunately, this deal stands whether I’m inside the borders of USA or outside.”

Y/N looked over the skyline to where the country’s national monument stood. A woman, hands up in the air outstretched with three stars in her palms, with words she couldn’t understand when she'd arrived etched on the granite at the bottom. Some local had translated them for her. For the Fatherland and Freedom.

After the blip and the experiments, she didn’t feel like she had a home. She’d been imprisoned and prodded like some lab bunny to see what her body could do. What her body could be used for.

Bucky followed her gaze as she kept looking at the statue. Different stars, different saying, but still with the same meaning of what he saw when he looked at the Captain America shield. Freedom. Justice. For the love of their home.

Something deep started to burn in her chest, and even Bucky could feel the shift.

A ferocious look appeared in her eyes as she looked at him. “Let’s get that shield.” She wasn’t going to let Walker taint that star, she knew would happen if he had it for much longer.

They’d had a single meeting beforehand, and during that half-hour, he’d been terrified for more than two-thirds of the time about how Y/N might die in his arms, die because she’d taken bullets meant for him.

He was so glad she hadn’t, not because it would be another life lost because of him, but because he felt like he’d found a twin flame – someone who’d understand him and his troubles. Someone he could help.

Maybe that could be the true way he could make amends – help someone in the same situation.

Bucky smiled.

Y/N did so too, and his heart skipped a beat looking at the woman.

Her body might be able to absorb the metals piercing it, Walker might call her a human shield, but he knew she was so much more than that. And he’d spend however long it took him to prove so to her. Maybe even in more ways than one.

_________________________________________________________________

Please reblog if you like this. For whatever reason my Bucky fics aren’t appearing in the tags :(

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

Text

Broken flowers.

The lovely @ben-c-group-therapy who asked for this:

<Hello, me again. I’d love to request some angst with a fluffy end. Miguel or Nick where reader is due to marry another man. The man and reader are at the alter and he just says he can’t marry her and leaves her there. He hadn’t given any clue he would do this. No cold feet. You stand shocked before leaving quickly. So Miguel or Nick was in the audience and they come to find you. Fluff. Comfort. Eventual sparks?? Idk. I can’t get the idea out of my head lol. Thanks so much!>

I decided to do Miguel for you this time. I really hope this is what you were looking for, I really enjoyed writing this. I love Miguel’s soft side when it comes out to play so I tapped into that and slight Sex and City movie vibes.

Warnings: Being left at the aisle angst with a fluffy happy ending. Very very light swearing.

WC: 2227

Enjoy x

You had never been this excited in your life as you were when your dad walked you down the aisle to Alex. You had both picked the Santo Padre country club for your wedding and reception. Everything looked better than what you had imagined it to be. Your eyes were set on Alex from the moment the doors opened stepping through them, but he didn’t look happy so you just put it down to him being nervous. As you got to the front seats you stopped waiting for your mum to stand up taking your other arm to walk you to the alter. Your eyes caught your best friends over your mum’s head, who was sitting next to her, a tear running down his cheek, Miguel mouthed “You look beautiful” and you gave him a wink back.

The ceremony had run smoothly up until the vows when the priest asked Alex to take your hands and to repeat after him, when you heard him mutter “I can’t”. You looked at the priest who was shocked at his reaction and you squeezed Alex’s arm with your free hand stepping a little closer,

“Babe it’s ok, you’re nervous”

“Y/N, I can’t. I’ am sorry. I can’t”

Your heart shattered when he pulled away from you and he walked out of the chapel leaving you standing there alone, your flowers dropped out of your hand landing on the floor breaking off the stems scattering around the bottom of your dress. No one knew what to do or what to say to you, but you heard the whispering that was getting louder and louder.

Tears welled in your eyes and you just ran. You felt Miguel grab your arm, but you pulled away from his grip and ran straight out the side door. You ran and ran till you got to the edge of the grounds to a man-made lake with a fountain in the middle, you dropped down under a tree in the grass and you sobbed till your whole body was shaking, letting out a loud scream.

Miguel had rage bolting through him at what had just happened to you. You guys had been best friends since high school. You had grown closer and closer over the years, being close with Emily when he got married and you had been there for him when he got divorced. You were one of the only people that never shied away from him, even when he took over the family business, knowing what he was, what he had become and what he did. Other than his mother, you were the most important woman in his life.

You were both brutally honest with each other telling each other everything, other than talking about the Galindo business dealings that you wanted to know nothing about and he knew what you thought about him taking over the business because he was so much better than a Cartel Boss, which weirdly made you closer. His family business never changed your friendship with him and you had inside joke’s when he went over the border and about his yellow rain coat that you had heard rumours about. If either of you were unbalanced or needed someone to tell you to get your shit together, you went to each other.

If you hadn’t felt the way you did about how Miguel delt with things, he would have had Alex in his church pew and would have been in his yellow rain coat making him pay for what he had done to you. Miguel got Marcus to take your parent’s home and stay with them in case they needed anything, Nestor got everyone out and on their way, Paco went to grab all your things from the hotel room you were meant to be staying in that night and then went to get your luggage from your apartment to take it all to his place and he sorted out the reception.

After he spoke to the manger coming to an agreement, he grabbed a chilled bottle of wine that was sitting on one of the tables and started to walk around the grounds looking for you. It wasn’t long before he saw you and his heart broke at you sitting there alone with your dress fanned around you and your shoulders slouched over.

You were looking out over the lake, the sun setting slowly and you tried to work everything out in your head. You didn’t know what happened or why Alex did what he did. As far as you knew everything was fine, he was excited to marry you and start a family. You had both decided that you would stay in your own apartment the week leading to the wedding and move the rest of your things over to his house once you were back from your four-week honeymoon, split between Cabo and Cancun. You had heard from him every night that week so, you were confused at what had happened not being able to put a finger on why.

You were pulled out of your chain of thought when you heard footsteps in the grass, but you didn’t turn around till you heard his voice and he sat down right next to you,

“Mi alma”

You looked over at him, a soft sweet smile on his face and he handed you the bottle of wine after opening it for you. You looked into his eyes for a moment, tears running out of yours and his filled with tears. Miguel put his hand on the back of your head pulling you towards him kissing your forehead. You both sat there, passing the wine bottle between each other watching the sun disappear, the warm wind hitting both of your skins,

“Didn’t see that coming” you muttered taking a sip from the bottle.

“He showed no sign he was going to call it off?”

“No. He told me last night he couldn’t wait to marry me. What a fucking joke” you took another sip of wine.

“Want the rain coat?” Miguel looked down at you with a grin. It was the first time since what happened that you had smiled and had a little giggle. You lent into him, Miguel’s arm going around you, rubbing his big warm hand up and down your arm and you rested your head on his shoulder “Today shouldn’t have happened Y/N, he’s an asshole. You deserve to be treated like a queen” he lent his head on top of yours and you sighed into him.

“I have to cancel the honeymoon and the flights. Can I use your phone?”

“No” Miguel sat up away from you and you frowned your brows at him “You’re going on that trip; you have been looking forward to it. I’ll change his ticket into my name. We’re going and we’ll have a great time”

“What would I do without you?” you lent over kissing his cheek “Can I have your jacket?”

“Of course”

Miguel shrugged it off handing it to you. You reached behind yourself tugging down the zipper of your dress. Miguel reached over pulling it down the rest of the way, his breathing hitching slightly when your dress fell open to your smooth skin. You pushed the top of your dress to your chest and took one arm out of the straps at a time. You put Miguel’s jacket on and you stood up, the dress fell off you pooling at your feet. You pulled his jacket around yourself and done up the buttons stepping out of the dress, his jacket on you like a short dress,

“You better get home and pack. Flights at 7 am” you smiled down at Miguel before you started to walk away.

“You’re going to leave your dress here? You loved that dress”

Miguel jumped up catching up to you, putting his arm around your neck,

“I don’t want the reminder Miguel, of what was meant to be. I’ am absolutely heart broken, but it’s done, we need to move on”

Eight weeks later

Miguel was surprised and proud at how well you handled the situation, he not handling his marriage break down anywhere near as coolly as you and when you found out the real reason why Alex did what he did, you went for run instead of breaking down. He never pushed you to talk about anything, he waited till you came to him to talk and he held you while you cried. Some night’s you walked into his room crying, he held you while you feel asleep, sleeping in his bed and other nights you were fine. He talked you into moving in with him so you weren’t by yourself and you had organised movers so that everything would be at Miguel’s when you got back.

It was the third week of the trip that you noticed a shift in Miguel and how he treated you, but you didn’t want to pay attention to it so you pushed it away trying not to think about it, but your feelings changed towards him as well. Since you had been back from the trip and getting on with life as best you could, it was getting to the point that you didn’t know if you should step over that line, if you said something and it was all in your head that would be years and years of trust and friendship broken, but you couldn’t live under the same roof with someone that you had feelings for, them not knowing.

When you had been getting messages from him during your day, you smiled at your screen and your tummy filled with butterflies. Miguel was excited to be coming home to you every day and his mind drifted to you most of his day, but the day he knew he had to say something was the day he came home and you were in the kitchen. He had seen you cook and bake too many times over the years to count and the apron you wore, he had bought it for you one Christmas.

When he walked in and the music hit his ear drums, he smiled to himself and walked around till you were in his eye sight. He saw the oven on, by the scent flowing through the house you were cooking your chicken pasta bake and you were leaning over a tray of cupcakes with a piping bag icing them. He smiled to himself and knew at that point he was falling in love with you. He watched on for a while, grinning at how natural it looked for you to be in his kitchen. You sensed that someone was watching you, looking up after you iced the last cupcake. You met Miguel’s eyes and you both grinned at each other, you both stood there starring till heat swept over you.

You reached behind yourself undoing the apron and sitting it on the counter. You started to walk towards him, Miguel matching your steps your eyes not leaving each other’s. You were just about to him when you stopped, he copying you and you were both breathing heavy,

“You feel it too” Miguel whispered, more a statement than a question.

“Yes. I have for a while”

“That night in Cabo?”

“Yeah”

You couldn’t take your eyes off each other, almost like a test to see who would crack first. It wasn’t long till you had your answer and it was both of you, it was like a magnet pulled you both together. Your arms went around his neck and his went down to wrap around just under your behind, lifting you up off the floor. Your lips met, meeting together like a puzzle, you felt like lightening had struck you and you knew he felt it too moaning into your mouth.

You both titled your heads and allowed the kiss to deepen. Miguel walked you both to the counter, sitting you on it not breaking the kiss. You spread your legs for him and he moved between them, your arms loosened around his neck and your hands went to his bearded cheeks. Your lungs started to burn and you broke the kiss, Miguel smiling up at you,

“We’ve been friends for a long time” your hands ran down from his cheeks and stopped on his chest “You know there is no going back now”

“I don’t want to go back anywhere. Y/N, you’re my best friend. You are the only one that knows me amor, takes me for me, holds me accountable for my actions and you keep me grounded. You are the only one that has ever loved me no matter what”

“As always, you always know what I’ am thinking and say first” you both laughed and you tapped his chest with your hands “I want this, so much. But can we take it slow? It’s a big step for us and it’s the first relationship we have both been in since-“

Miguel curled his pointer finger under your chin and tipped your head back, his other hand going to rest on top of your other one,

“As slow as you want, as fast as you want. We are still the same people, the same friends, we are just falling in love” Miguel peaked your lips.

“And it feels absolutely amazing.”

Tags: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @ben-c-group-therapy

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x you #miguel galindo and reader #mayans mc #mayans fanfic

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overly-b · 4 years

Text

Say It Again - JJ Maybank

In which JJ questions if he is deserving of you and your love.

Warnings: swearing, sad JJ, fluff, awful editing don’t come for me

Word Count: 3.5k(whoops)

Author's note: this is my first time writing in so long, be gentle with me friends. I know that a lot of people have done similar prompts of JJ feeling undeserving of love and the reader helps him through it, so this is a little bit unoriginal but, this is my take on it.

Bold italics is a flash back.

Thank you to @maybe-maybanks to the late night inspiration!

not my gif

As you, Kie and Pope approached the yard of the chateau, it became undeniably clear that JJ had gone off the rails with extravagant spending since you had seen him last.

“What did you do JJ?” Pope questions the boy sitting in the hot tub. Looking at you through his sunglasses, he smirks.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now” He ignores Pope. “Y’all, should get in here immediately, you hear me?” His sentence slurs slightly. “Salud!” He toasts his plastic champagne flute in the air, but opts to take a swig from the bottle in his other hand.

JJ scans the faces of his three friends, eyes lingering at yours a moment longer than Kie and Popes.

You see, just days ago, after getting arrested, then beaten by his father, JJ found you, and poured his heart out, to find that you shared his feelings, and the two of you started seeing each other in secret.

Being that it was a secret, the two of you had yet to put any kind of label on it, but you loved that blonde boy to the ends of the earth, despite what had happened earlier that day.

“You know what, that's exactly what I’m gonna do. Go off, by myself.”

You watched as JJ began walking away. Pope attempted to stop him, but Sarah and John B had halted his efforts. You stood silently fuming at the actions of the boy you had such strong feelings for. How could he be doing something like this? This wasn’t the JJ you knew, had been friends with for years, and were now in love with. Though if you were being honest with yourself, you had loved him for years prior.

“JJ!” You seethed, shaking off John B’s attempts to hold you back from running after him. He was already a good distance away from the group, he probably couldn’t even hear you yelling, so you started speed walking. It soon became apparent that he was simply ignoring you.

“JJ!” You were merely twenty feet from him, screaming at his back. “JJ stop!” His strides continued.

“You were real quiet back there princess, finally decide to comment?” You stepped in front of him, shoving his shoulders to force his walk to a stop. “What the fuck Y/N!”

“What the fuck me? What the fuck you! What has gotten into you right now JJ what are you doing?”

“Nothing has gotten into me Y/N I’m simply paying back what I owe.” He states, trying to walk past you.

“By stealing the money from the drug dealer that just jumped us?” Your brows raise as you interrogate him.

“He jumped us, he has this coming.” He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, succeeding in getting past you, as you stand shocked by his words.

“JJ you and I both know that you’re not that goddamned stupid.” His steps slow, he stands still. “Stealing money from a drug dealer? JJ I know that you owe money because of Pope but this isn’t right! You’re better than this-”

“Am I?” He turns on his heels to face you again, this time squaring his shoulders to be purposeful in standing tall over you. Him standing over you made you feel small in comparison to the raging blond. “Am I better than this?” He repeats his question.

“JJ what are you-”

“Because I’m starting to think that you, and your high standards, and your perfect life, only think that I am better than this because you want me to be better than this.”

You knew what he was referring to. You were by no means a kook, but your family was financially stable enough to afford a nice house, you had your own car, and if you wanted, you could afford to go to college on the mainland. Your life was unlike most lives on the cut, but JJ knew that your life was far from perfect.

“What the hell-”

“And that if we’re gonna be together, you need me to be better than this so that I can fit in with your life.” You had no idea what he meant. Your life was on the cut, with the Pouges, with him, and the difference of financial well beings of your familys never changed that before, so why was it now?

“What the fuck JJ stop-”

“Well you know what Y/N! I’m not better than this, this is who I am! I get into fights, I steal, I have a criminal record, when I get hit, I hit back this is who I am!”

“We both know that stealing twenty five thousand dollars from a drug dealer is never going to make anything better.” You attempt to reason with him. “This isn’t hitting back this is loading the gun that's already in your face!”

“Y/N I have to!” He spits. “I know you could never understand being in so much debt but this is my only option.” His words hit you like a punch to the stomach. He looks down to his boots before continuing. “So I’m sorry that I’m not what you pictured as a boyfriend, but this is what I do Y/N. Maybe you trying to fight it means you deserve better than me.”

And just like that, it was clear that he was more mad with himself then he was with you. However, everything that he said was uncalled for, and nasty, and he had no right. You watch as he storms away, even more tense than before, and you couldn’t help but wonder how this affects your newfound relationship. You blink away the water from your eyes, and do your best to compose yourself as you slowly wander back to your friends.

“How much did this cost?” Pope asks. Your head was spinning as he listed all of the things that he had purchased since he left you standing in the woods.

“Uh, well. With the generator, the petrol, and, oh, hey, express delivery,” You knew the answer before he even had time to speak. “Pretty much all of it, yeah.”

“All of it?” Pope exclaims.

“Oh my god” You whisper, mostly to yourself, rubbing your forehead with your palm.

“Yeah all of it.”

“You spent all the money in one day?” “Yeah burned a hole right through my pocket.” He confidently explains. “But, I mean like come on guys, look at this!” The tone in his voice told you that he was holding back, it was alway his biggest tell when he would hold back his feelings. “Finest in jet based massage therapy, that's what they told me.”

The three of you are left speechless.

“Kie what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?” JJ still could not bring himself to look you in the eyes for more than a moment. “Come on, all this scrimping’ and scraping’” you notice his voice falter again. “I mean like, guys, we, you only live once. Right?” JJ finally locks eyes with you, and he reacts spastically, your dreaded look having the gravest effect on him.

“Y/N, stop, why are you looking at me like that?” He knew full well, but he was trying too hard not to show it. “I know that you’re mad about earlier okay, but, everything is fine now!” His voice was louder now, concealing the breakdown you knew was coming, sooner or later, here with the three of you or somewhere else. “Enough of this emotional shit. Get in the Cat’s Ass come on.” He smiles, waving you to join him.

“The what?” Kie furrows her brows.

“The Cat’s Ass.” JJ smugly replies, proud of himself. “That's what I named her. Oh hey yo, I almost forgot,” JJ leans forward, pressing a button that makes water spray across the tub, and even more colorful lights flash in front of him. “Huh! Yeah that's right, disco mode, thats right baby!” His eyes scan yours, noticing that they were clouding with tears. He quickly looks away from you, not wanting to see the damage that he had done, and was still doing.

“JJ,” Your voice is low and hushed as you blink back tears.

“Are you kidding me?” Popes harsh voice overpowers yours, cutting off you and your tears. “You could have paid for restitution!”

“Or literally given it to any charity” Kie fumes at the sight before her.

“Guys,” You mutter, wanting them to stop being so hard on the broken boy you secretly called yours. You were mad too, if not more than Pope and Kie due to your argument. However, you could see straight through the smug grins and happy fasad that JJ was trying to project. He was hurting, and you knew it wasn’t just about the fight the two of you shared.

“Or better yet, you could have helped us buy supplies to get the rest of the gold out of the well!”

“Guys!” You spoke up louder this time, only to be cut off by JJ.

“Okay well you know I didn’t do that!” As JJ’s swimsuit clad body surfaces from the hot water, you are confronted with what you knew would be there, and the tears pour from your eyes. “I got a hot tub!” JJ shakes in what appears to be anger, but you know it isn't anger he's reeling from. “For my friends,”

Kie and Pope gape at JJ’s bruised abdomen and instantly connect the dots as to who is responsible.

“I bought a hot tub for my friends.” He repeats. “You know what, no, you know what, screw friends. I got a hot tub for my family.”

“JJ what the hell-” Kie gasps.

“I got this for you! Guys look what I did for you! Alright?” JJ spins and gestures to everything he bought. “Look at this!” When he turns back, he finds that you were no longer holding back the tears your eyes once held.

“Y/N stop being emotional don’t, don’t cry okay? I know that I hurt you before,” His voice fails him as he recalls the words that he said to you. “But I did this for you,” He hangs his head, he knows how bad he fucked up, and it was hitting him all at once that this was not the way that he needed to make things right. This was not the way back to you, and the high of his twenty five thousand dollar spending spree was dissapating at his realisation, and at the sight of you before him.

“I mean, it’s sweet right?” JJ hadn't even realized that as he began talking, you had climbed into the hot tub. He looks into your eyes for a moment as you stand before him, and lets out a sob as you gently wrap your arms around him. His forehead falls to your shoulder, and all of his pent up energy released in the form of tears and heaves.

“I’m sorry. Baby I’m so sorry.” He whimpers to you, only for you to shush him tenderly. Kie and Pope share a confused glance at the nickname. “I couldn’t do it.” You rub his hair and hold him close as he convulses. “I can’t take it anymore!” JJ wails, your tears land on his shoulders, and his tears land on yours. “I was gonna kill him!”

Kie is next to join you, jumping into the steaming water and embracing the both of you. Pope follows.

“I just want to do the right thing.”

“Shh, JJ, I know. I know” You coo him, trying to calm his weeping.

After minutes of holding him, Kie announces that she has to head home, and Pope offers to drive her. JJ rests in a nearly catatonic state in your arms, no doubt exhausted and knowing JJ, not ready to face the fact that he just broke down in front of his friends.

The pair leaves bidding reassuring words to JJ, and a few more hugs.

You are left in the hot tub, holding the blond boy as he clutches onto you. He wasn’t crying anymore, but his breaths were rapid and heavy as he was shaken, the events of the day had caught up to him in the form of you and your tears. He begins to spew soft “I’m sorry”s and other apologises, but his panic makes him stutter and his sentences start to lack direction.

You shush him and direct the boy to listen to your heartbeat, trying your best to bring his shattered thoughts back to earth.

“JJ, we should get out of the hottub.” You tell him, to which he simply sniffles and nods, unsure of how to speak to you after the horrible things he said to you, and his inability to form a proper apology. He knew that you were nothing like he had depicted, yet he said what he said, and there was no taking it back.

His skin was red from the overheated water, and it itched with chlorine, so as the two of you entered the chateau, you started the shower.

“You should rinse off the chlorine.” You told him, not sure of how to speak to him either. He followed your order and stripped of his bathing suit. You were able to track down clothes for him to sleep in, and as you waltzed back into the bathroom, you decided you couldn’t leave him alone in the shower.

Taking off your soaked clothes quickly, you slip into the shower to find JJ standing still under the water. You snake your arms around his torso, careful of the bruises pressing your chest to his back. His hands find yours he holds them tight. You place a kiss on his spine, then rest your head where your lips touched.

“I’m so sorry” He croaked, his voice was tired, worn out from the day.

“JJ-”

“No stop Y/N” He turns around to face you, grabbing your face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I should have never said any of those things about you, none of them were true, it's just that, its,” He stumbles on his words. You rub his back to ground him again, he takes a deep breath. “It's just that you do deserve better than me.”

“JJ please-” He doesn’t let you continue.

“No you do, Y/N you do. You deserve so much better than me, than this life, than what I can give you. You don’t deserve some, broken kid that's never getting off the cut, you don’t deserve, to, have to watch as I steal money from drug dealers, you don’t deserve any of the shit that I know that I put you through you just, you deserve better, better than someone who doesn’t come close to deserving you.”

The tears streaming down both of your faces mix with the water coming from the shower and you have no idea how to make his saddening speech stop.

“JJ” You sob, he pauses. “You deserve so much more, than what your life has given you. You deserve to be happy, you deserve to be loved JJ, you deserve everything that you want, why can’t you see that?”

And instantly you feel stupid for asking. JJ’s eyes wander and find the bruises littering his body, answering your question. You stifle another sob as your eyes graze his battered skin.

“Listen to me.” You demand his attention. “You are not worthless.” His eyes divert from yours as he realises what you’re referring to. “JJ look at me,” After a moment or two, his gaze wearily finds yours. “You are not worthless, you are worthy of love, and affection, and someone who takes care of you, and not only are you worthy but you deserve it too. Do you hear me?”

JJ swallows thickly, nodding in acceptance of your beautiful words. He embraces you tightly, having no words of his own. No one had ever made him feel like this. No one had ever made him feel worthy of the good that was before him.

He was hesitant to think that he deserved you. To him, no one was good enough to actually deserve you, especially not him. However your speech made him open to the idea that maybe he was at least worthy of your love.

Your love.

You both realised in the same moment that the word was shared between you. You had never shared the faithful declaration of love to each other since you had been together romantically, and yet now you had mentioned love twice in the span of thirty seconds. JJ smiled as he held you. You loved him, and this was one of the ways that you showed it.

“Let's get the chlorine out of your hair J.”

He let you massage his scalp with the shampoo that he's seen you use before to get pool chemicals out of your hair. He didn’t really know what it did or how it was different from other shampoos but, it smelled like you and he loved getting his head rubbed. His breathing was still shaky, but he finally felt some of his anxiety from the day wearing off. Fighting with you was something he never wanted to do again. Fighting with his dad was something he knew he would have to do the next time he went home. He elected to ignore those thoughts, as your fingers worked magic on his hair, seemingly drawing all of the negative ideas out of his head along with the chlorine.

As JJ rinsed his hair of soap, he noticed you reaching for the bottle again, no doubt to wash your own hair. He holds out his hand, wordlessly asking if he could wash your hair for you, like you had done for him. This makes you grin as you hand him the bottle. JJ then realises that he doesn’t really know how to do what you did for him. That kind of small, soft, intimate touching was foreign to him.

He squeezes way too much shampoo into his hand, but you pay that no mind. He starts slow, trying to remember the way your fingers moved on his scalp, but in the end knowing that he just wasn’t good at giving head massages.

“I used way too much.” He states, watching as suds continue to produce from your locks.

“It’s okay.” You hum watching the bubbles disappear down the drain. “I set out clothes for you when you’re ready, I’m probably gonna be another minute” You tell him, referring to the other bottles you had in the shower that you still had to use.

“Okay, thank you” He kisses you as he exits the shower. You finish up quickly, wanting to be next to him, and hoping that his thoughts as he sits alone don’t carry him away like they had before.

You find that he left his tee shirt for you, like he had on nights before. You wear the shirt that smelled of him along with a pair of comfortable running shorts and head to the spare bedroom of the chateau that JJ called his most nights.

You spot JJ sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting for you. You slowly and carefully climb onto his lap, straddling him and holding his head close to your chest. You notice anxiety still radiating off of him.

“Hey,” You start softly. “It’s okay, everythings okay-”

“I love you” He states bluntly as he picks up his head from your chest.

“What?” You stumble, surprised at his outburst.

“I love you, and I want to be with you, like, publically, or whatever. I wanna tell the Pouges and-” before he starts rambling, you stop him.

“I love you too JJ.” This pauses him.

“Say it again.”

You giggle, but inhale, knowing that he needs to hear it.

“JJ.” You start. “I love you.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t realize he was holding, eyes watering for the millionth time.

“I still don’t think that I deserve this.” He admits, looking into your eyes with his crystal clear blue ones.

“You do.” You push his hair back from his face. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you do.”

He was hesitant to accept everything that you had said to him that day, but he never doubted that you would give him your all. This was all he needed to know before he allowed himself fully over to you, kissing you with more desperation and love than ever before.

“I love you so much.” You muttered into his lips, and from that day on, you would say it again and again, as many times as he needed to hear it. A constant reminder to him that he was deserving and worthy of good, of love, and of you.

Taglist: @maybe-maybanks @myrandom-fandomlife

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #jj #maybank #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj imagine #jj fanfiction #obx #obx imagine #obx netflix #obx jj #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow fic

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akitokihojo · 3 years

Text

Stay

Woah, two posts in one day? Yeah... yeeeeeeah. I don't usually post so late, but as I sat here staring at this document, I realized that if I don't post it now, I never will.

Okay, look, this story is extremely personal for me and I want to give a warning about that. If you know me or have been following me for a while, you may have noticed I tend to keep to myself, I'm quiet, and I'm private. But, as most humans, I have things I battle, too. I've been through things, too.

My coping mechanisms are humor and "add to cart." My therapy is writing. I decided to give this a shot. I've gotten personal with older fics before, but it's vague and I sort of lightly mix it in there like food seasonings. "Everything's Okay" and "A Moment" are examples of which. This story is largely based off something real. The emotion behind it is real. Very real.

Now, I will admit, the comfort added isn't. It's something I've realized over the past couple of years that I both crave and deserve. It's something that would help me incredibly, and maybe it's unrealistic, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want it. So bad. So, I wrote. I made it happen.

I decided to project everything into my comfort otp, so if either Kagome or Inuyasha seem out of character, it's because they are. Sorry about that. It was difficult to keep their characteristics in tact. Particularly, Inuyasha. He's unbelievably soft here.

This is sloppy. I did my best to edit, but like I said, the longer I sat on it, the less likely it was bound to be posted. Just consider it unfiltered emotions if it seems messy, because that's what it's supposed to be.

Some disclaimers that I'll open up about: Yes, all of those negative things have been said to me by a past ex. What Kagome tells Inuyasha is very real for me. Also, replace "abusive father" with "abusive mother" and you've got it. :) I just didn't feel comfortable disrespecting mama higurashi with such slander, so since Kagome's father isn't in the picture, it was simpler.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you. If you read this, thank you. Again.

---

“Come on, Kagome. Show me.” Inuyasha encouraged supportively.

Kagome sighed, adjusting the shorts a bit better around her waist as she stared at herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. She’d comfortably tucked herself away in the walk-in closet of her boyfriend’s bedroom, preferring the space she had and the length of the mirror as opposed to the bathroom that only showed her up to her hips unless she bounced to her tippy toes.

“Houston, we have a problem.” She spoke.

“Define ‘problem.’” Inuyasha proposed. “Because, I realized a long time ago that you and I have two totally different definitions of the word.”

No, this was a definite problem. Unfortunately, it seemed she’d purchased clothing from one of the retailers that didn’t quite grasp that some woman had thicker asses and thighs. The shorts fit, but they hugged her in places she needed a little more room in. God forbid, she sit down. Then, they’d fit her like underwear.

The band was comfortable along her hips, but felt a little better if she pulled it up a smidge toward her waist. But then the underside of her booty cheeks popped out, and that for sure wasn’t something she could sport in public. Or, she could. She just wouldn’t be comfortable doing so. It wasn’t her style. She preferred a hint of more modesty. Not to mention, the shorts were very tight against her lady bits, and that was definitely something she didn’t want her clothing riding up on.

“Babe.”

“Curse these thighs.”

“Oh, see what I mean?” He chimed from the other side of the door. “That’s the exact opposite of a problem.”

“It’s a problem if the shorts don’t fit, Inuyasha.”

“Show me.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Okay, we’ll return them. But, show me first.”

“Why do you want to see them if they don’t fit?” She laughed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Do I have to spell this out to you every time?” Inuyasha asked, making it obvious that he was feigning irritation.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, first of all, I know you’re ridiculously critical of yourself. I have a more objective point of view, and therefore that makes my opinion the only valid one here.”

“Hey -“

“I’m not finished. Second, I love seeing you in tight clothing. That’s a given. You don’t have to keep it, and you should always wear things you’re comfortable in, but at least do the right thing and let me see first. I think I deserve that much. Third, and most importantly, ass and thighs. Your ass and thighs.” Inuyasha made a chef’s kiss motion even though she couldn’t see, losing himself in the thought of some of his favorite assets of hers. “You know damn well how much I love them. So, please - please - come out and show me, Kagome.”

Behind the door, she fought her smile, losing so quickly it was as if she hardly stood a chance against it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her body, but he was right. There were some imperfections that had her self-conscious at times, and he knew without saying when they started dating over five months ago that her thighs were one of them. And, she could tell the half demon she called hers genuinely adored everything she deemed unworthy.

Giving a minor adjustment to make sure the area between her thighs had enough room to breathe, she sighed out any apprehension and opened the door. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the bed waiting, golden eyes instantly on her. He skimmed over the way she’d tucked her shirt into the underside of her bra to keep it out of the way, gazed at her tummy for a small moment, then drifted his sights down to the shorts hugging her snuggly.

He barely blinked, his expression practically blanking, and Kagome’s cheeks went red hot.

“Inuyasha?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.”

Kagome laughed, turning away from him bashfully.

“Shit, no! I wasn’t ready for that!” He cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples as if he were in a panic. Her ass. It looked phenomenal. He wasn’t mentally prepared to see just how plump it looked in those bottoms, and it sent his mind reeling.

“What!?” She gasped, her hands instinctually falling to cover her butt as she spun back to face the way she’d originally been.

“Oh my god.” Inuyasha mewled. “Are you kidding me, Kagome!? Where’s the problem!? Where’s the mother fucking problem!? Because, I don’t see it!”

It was thought to be impossible, but she felt her face flush even hotter. So hot, she wanted to hide it, knowing full and well her embarrassment was visible and prominent. She kind of tucked her head down slightly, hoping the dim lighting in his room would be her ally and shade her blush while she presented her issues with the garment of clothing.

“Well, it’s tight on my thighs. See, when I do this -“ She explained as she lifted her leg slightly as if she was going to take a step forward. The bottom hem of her shorts tightened against her quad, squeezing around the plush before riding up an inch. “It’s not very comfortable. I like a bit of a looser fit. And, then my butt. It’s suffocating. I’m scared one wrong move will make these shorts rip.”

“God forbid.”

“Inuyasha, seriously.” She deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m listening. Anything else?” He apologized with a grin, conceding.

“Yes. I can’t sit in these.”

“Why not?”

“Too tight.”

“So, you literally can’t sit?”

“No, I mean I’m sure I can. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Because, they’ll rip?”

“That. Or, they’ll turn into chonies.”

“What?”

“Underwear.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you got such versatile clothing. I could have sworn we were nowhere near the lingerie section.”

Kagome laughed through her groan, tossing her head back in minor exasperation due to her boyfriend’s sarcasm. It was going to be hard to describe, and she was sure if she attempted such he’d only throw more jokes her way, so she shut her mouth and decidedly took to demonstrating her vexation. She crossed the floor, hoped for the best, and plopped into a seat right next to Inuyasha. Her thighs fluffed out and her shorts effectively rode all the way up, giving her legs the attention they apparently demanded.

Inuyasha’s eyes were glued to her thighs and the way her clothing wrinkled along her anatomy. He’d had to press his lips into a tight line to prevent their proud and joyful crinkle, but it was so desperately difficult to fend off. Kagome was quick to notice and her brows pinched together, a small pout forming.

“You tricked me.” She murmured. “You wanted me to sit down, didn’t you?”

“I’ll admit, it was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” He said, gently stroking the pads of his fingers over the softness of her legs. “Again, I find it important to remind you that you and I clearly have very different definitions of what a problem is. This… this is not a problem. Not at all.”

“Well, see, I sort of wanted to be able to wear these outside of your apartment.” Kagome giggled, inadvertently melting into his touch. It was so light, it almost tickled, but she felt his warmth radiating from his hand, she felt his attraction, she felt his good-natured and honest feelings toward her body, and it was nothing short of what she both wanted and needed right now.

“I know, I know. We’ll return them and get a larger pair. Still, not a problem.” He grinned, planting his whole palm on her thigh and sliding it inward, shoving it to sit in the heat between. He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Don’t even think about it.” Kagome hummed, leaning into his tender touch.

“Hm?”

“You’re about to lay down on my thighs, aren’t you?”

“What? I can’t?” The half demon pouted with legitimate shock on his brow.

“The moment you’re down, you’re down. You know damn well you’re not getting up if I let you, and I want to get out of these shorts.”

“But, Kagome -“

“Boy, if you knew exactly how these are constricting certain areas, you’d understand.” She laughed, playfully shoving his hand off of her as she stood. Before walking toward the closet where she’d left her skirt, she turned to face her boyfriend, bending at the waist and pushing his bangs from his forehead to plant a kiss against his skin. “I should get going soon, anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go, then.” He said, tone gruff as his amber eyes met hers. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to stay the night, impromptu. Far from it. Every time, though, caused something in her chest to stir, something in her stomach to flutter, something in her bloodstream to effervesce in both a wonderful and unsettling way - the unsettling part deriding from a different emotion she’d recently noticed planting its roots somewhere inside of her. Inuyasha grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers while his expression shifted to one of seriousness. No jokes, no funny business, no sarcasm was present any longer.

“I don’t feel like I got all the time I wanted with you. Since we were out and about most of the day, I feel like I had to share parts of you with the world, so now that it’s just you and I, I’m not quite ready to let you go. Will you stay?”

Internally, Kagome was telling herself to keep it together. It was such a small gesture, such a tiny request, but it was always the little things he said to her, like this, the mannerisms he displayed when he was sincere, the way his amber eyes met hers when he waited for her answer that had her feeling unstable. Like, she could cry. Like, she was more afraid than she was thirty seconds ago, or an hour ago, or when she saw his smile earlier this afternoon when they met up, or last night, or when she crashed and burned upon realizing what, exactly, it was she felt for Inuyasha a month ago. She swallowed, forcing herself to show none of that as she made a small smile appear on her face.

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”

A grin sprouted on Inuyasha’s lips as he kissed the hand he held, standing to cross over to his dresser.

“You want your favorite, or a different one?” He asked, ignoring the twitch his own sensitive ear gave as the wood scraped open.

“Whichever. Can I take a shower?”

“Of course.” He said in a manner that suggested she knew she didn’t have to ask by now. He was well-acquainted with her routine and how she preferred showers before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. That, and they’d recently gotten her some extra toiletries to store in his bathroom for times she stayed over. He was equipped for her company, and sooner or later, Kagome was bound to learn that she was more than welcome to treat his place as her own. Her scent, her voice, her contagious laughter were all he needed, and if his apartment was filled with it, Inuyasha couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier.

Kagome took the large band tee the hanyou offered with a grateful smile and snagged some boxers from the top drawer he’d just opened with a playful, little scrunch of her nose before ambling over to the closet to pick up her skirt and reach for a towel on the shelf.

Why? Why was her heart thumping uncontrollably? She was so happy. So, so, so content. But, yet a crippling sensation was crawling its way up her esophagus to make home in her throat; to grow large, and dense, and sit there to make it impossible to swallow any longer. Ever since that night a month ago, when she’d hung up the phone after a goodnight call with Inuyasha - who was traveling at the time for work, was beyond tired, spoke to her in that husky tone she was utterly weak for, and who’d called out of mere courtesy to let her know he’d made it to his destination safely - she hadn’t been feeling secure. Not because of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, despite their little, bickering spats and his tendency to get a bit jealous over guys she spoke to, he was doing everything right. He wasn’t the one giving her reason to fear. It was her.

It was what she’d been through.

It was something she was so terrified he would turn around and say to her, that it practically debilitated her rational mind.

But, still, the feeling it stemmed from grew and expanded, the tree roots burying themselves in the soil of her heart, and Kagome was positive by now, after thirty days had passed with no decrease but, instead, the exact opposite, that there was no convincing herself that it wasn’t there. Because, every time she saw him smile, every time he held her hand, every time he expressed himself to her, it banged on her walls like an innocent prisoner demanding freedom.

When she was sure her emotions weren’t superficial, when she was positive there was no changing anything on her end, Kagome had to really look within herself to figure out how to maneuver about things. Did she openly tell him? Was there a right time to say these things? She even debated never saying anything at all, and for a good while, she was settled on that option. It wasn’t the right thing to do, though. It was like she was allowing her past, her previous broken heart, to dictate how she expressed affection toward others, and the potential ‘others’ who hadn’t done her wrong didn’t deserve that. Kagome had always been the type to wear her rather large and vulnerable heart on her sleeve. The cage she held it in now, it wasn’t locked. She wanted to put it back where it belonged, but she was so scared, it made her nauseous. The cage door was opened, held cracked from the inside, the weary organ protecting itself behind a barrier that just needed some encouragement to come out from.

Again, she’d wondered to herself countless times: was there a right moment to say something like this? Was there a procedure she needed to follow? She’d said it first last time, and nothing ended in her favor, so maybe she shouldn’t be the one to initiate this topic? Maybe it applied too much pressure? Should she just keep it to herself behind lock and key? Was he going to be receptive? Was it going to scare him away? Please, don’t scare him away. Please, please don’t leave.

And, countless times, she ended up in tears from the crushing weight of it. Kagome knew the truth. She didn’t have to consult anyone to know what the right thing to do was. It didn’t matter how many nights she stared at the ceiling obsessing over right and wrong, this or that, pros and cons, yes and no’s, because in the back of her mind, the answer was right there in big, bold letters. She was just trying to dance around it. It was so stressful. Something that was depicted as a happy and liberating occurrence was reduced to horrifying and anxiety-inducing for her.

The fact of the matter was, no one should have the power to change her heart. More so, Kagome shouldn’t give anyone that power. The way she felt so deeply was, in fact, a good thing. It was. It was. It was a fight just to get herself to understand that again, feeling like she was convincing herself of something she no longer believed, but she knew the only way she would, once more, feel that freedom was to open up. Stop hiding.

The thought was heavy. It didn’t sit comfortably with her. There were certain things Kagome was okay talking about, and there were certain things Kagome would rather eat up, swallow, and take to the grave. But, that was vulnerability, and she understood that if anyone deserved that part of you, it was your partner. Inuyasha was her partner. He was patient. He listened to her about things that made her uneasy, he took into account how she could be both a social butterfly sometimes and introverted during others, how when she was overwhelmed she had a tendency to shut down, how physical touch was her love language, and he even went so far as to ask her how she would prefer he respond to certain predicaments if she were to ever get overstimulated with him around.

Inuyasha had proved time and time again that he not only wanted to experience every side of her, but that he deserved it. He deserved it.

It jostled her to the core as she considered telling him now, her stomach churning, her heart pounding erratically, her bottom lip quivering as she’d learned to expect rejection. It was why she struggled initiating anything. It was why she had trouble saying the words to anyone but herself, “I want.” It was a learned reaction to her past trauma, but Inuyasha, the half dog demon she called hers, the silver-haired man who always did everything he could to make her feel safe while with him, the person who treated her as special as he’d insisted she was, wasn’t the one who’d hurt her. So, she’d decided over a week ago, she was going to do it. She was going to do it and let him know. Best case scenario, it was always nice to hear you’re loved and he may end up appreciating her confession. Worst case, things were going to get awkward and tense and it may end their relationship for good.

Kagome wanted to be Kagome again. Not the person she was before she’d met her ex. Not exactly, at least. She still wanted the lessons she’d learned with him to be applied to who she was. They were valuable, and not everything she learned had her closing off. As an open-minded thinker, she realized that not every wound left a scar, so not everything that happened made her a victim. Some things are just incidents that taught her lessons to take into tomorrow. So, she wanted to return to Kagome, the bright girl who faced her fears, who wore her precious heart on her sleeve, her loved with everything she had no matter what, but who was just a few experiences wiser. But, no one could do that for her. No one could give her that push she needed. It all came from within.

Of course, so did fear. So did nausea. So did that anxious part of her brain that said, “Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. Or, the day after that.”

Kagome took a deep breath, trembling as it may have been, and looked over to her boyfriend. He’d just removed his shirt from over his head, his short, tousled, silver strands appearing slightly messier than before once he was free, and he glanced over his shoulder her way, most likely feeling her eyes on him.

“Inuyasha,” She tried to come off as stable as possible, but there was an obvious waver in her tone that gave her trepidation away.

“Hm?” He hummed, the corners of his lips twitching downward before he dropped his shirt on the floor and faced her better.

“Can I - um…” It was impossible to hold her eyes steady on him, her deep, brown gaze falling to the floor every time she picked them up to look at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

Kagome took another breath, willing her body to stop fidgeting. It was Inuyasha. It was just Inuyasha. As soon as she realized there was no stilling her fingers beneath the clothes and towel she held, or the way she bit hard into the inside of her bottom lip, she felt the best course of action was to simply carry on; wavering eye contact, trembling fingers, quivering lips, and all.

“Let me first preface this with: please don’t say anything. Just let me get it out there. I don’t expect anything from you in return, there’s no pressure whatsoever, and I would rather you not say anything at all. Like, at all. Okay?”

Truthfully, Inuyasha was freaked out. Had something happened? Was she about to admit to something bad? Kagome looked about ready to breakdown and cry, and the fact that she was asking for him to remain completely silent only told him she was afraid of judgement. Never had she asked him to stay quiet before. And, he hated how apprehensive his girlfriend looked right now. His instinct was to solve the problem, so what was he supposed to do here but agree to her terms?

“What’s going on, Kagome?”

“Please?”

“Alright. I won’t talk. Now, spill.”

She pinched the back of her wrist to stay grounded, to keep from crying. God, she was so pathetically nervous, and three times now, she’d almost convinced herself to back out and pretend it was a joke. That wouldn’t be right, though. She wanted to cry so bad and she hadn’t even said anything yet, so she pinched herself harder, her nails incidentally digging in. As soon as she felt a degree of control fall back into her grasps, Kagome leveled her gaze at him.

The words sat on her tongue, weighted with the shackles she’d placed there herself. A lump had formed and solidified in her throat, clinging for dear life and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. God, she was really shaking. Her breathing was becoming unsteady as if she’d already started crying and she could feel her expression crinkling into something terribly sad. She knew that was how she appeared only from the way Inuyasha’s lips parted, how his brows curved in worry, how he wanted to reach for her but seemed so confused that he could only stand there and wait.

Like a bandaid. Once the words were out, it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. She just had to get through it.

“Um - I - I - I am -“ The stammering was relentless, and out of sheer obstinance, Kagome shied away for one moment, took a short breath, huffed it out, then faced him again. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a slight arch to his brow, and his chin inched to the side minutely. Very slowly, Inuyasha’s lips sealed and his gaze hardened, falling to the ground. Hastily, Kagome followed her confession with disclaimers, irrevocably panicking.

“A-and, I don’t expect you to say it back! You don’t have to say a word about it! There’s no pressure at all, Inuyasha! I swear!” With each statement, he seemed to be growing more and more tense, and Kagome was terrified she was only making matters worse, but she blinked profusely so her tears didn’t have the chance to breach the brim of her lids. “I just wanted you to know. So, yeah. Now you know.” Her voice had fallen to a hitch just above a whisper at that point, admonished.

Inuyasha kept his promise. He didn’t speak. Kagome was stiff in her spot, not quite knowing what move to make next. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. It was hard to think beyond her admittance in the first place. It was too quiet, and she could hear the clock in the living room loudly ticking seconds by.

“Just nod or shake your head; do you still want me to stay?” She asked sheepishly.

Finally, Inuyasha’s glowing stare rose to hers again, and it frighteningly seemed to grow harder, more tense. She saw the rigid muscles of his jaw clench, and his chest rose with the very slow inhale he took through his nose. Steadily, the hanyou responded with a firm nod. In the next moment, he gestured for her to head down the hall to the bathroom with a notch of his chin, which she wasted no time in complying to. Kagome bit her lip, hard, shakily turned on her heel, and left Inuyasha alone in the room.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Inuyasha dropped his seat on the bed, crumbling forward as he braced his forehead in his hands, elbows jabbing into his thighs. His chest was physically aching, his throat tight, and Inuyasha felt thoroughly crushed. He could literally see the fear in her eyes, the anxiety holding her by the neck. Why? Had he given her some reason to worry? Had he made it seem like that was a taboo topic?

It didn’t take long to rationalize. Logically, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t personal. And, he knew that because he knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of unadulterated vulnerability. It felt like you were naked, exposed to the world, trusting someone with something so valuable and important when you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself with something like that. It was hard. It was nerve wracking.

But, there was something deeper to it.

Why else would she insist he didn’t respond? It was clear as day. He knew that feeling. He’d been hurt before, too. They’d been together for almost half a year, he knew a good portion of her story, and she knew just as much about his. It was impossible to know it all quite yet, though. Five, six months may seem like a long time to some, but it’s honestly nothing in retrospect. They’re just scratching the surface. He knew the general aspects about her abusive father, he knew she had an emo phase in high school, he knew the superficial shit like her favorite colors, foods, drinks, what medications she needed to take and how often, he knew how she tasted, her tickle spots, where the heating pads were stashed in her apartment - because she had multiple for easy accessibility depending on what room she was in while she was down for the count on her period, and he knew she’d had her heart broken before. But, he didn’t know every little detail about certain things yet.

Inuyasha had had his heart broken before, as well. He knew that feeling. He knew how gruesome and tedious it was to start over, how awful the idea of opening up all over again was, how awkward and weary it felt to tiptoe around specific subjects until you felt comfortable enough describing them, so on and so forth. He knew. Just, apparently, not as well as Kagome did. He was willing to guess that her heart wasn’t just broken. It was trampled on.

His most recent relationship was up and down. He and his ex were never on the same page. He fell quickly but his feelings were unrequited. Then, later on, she began to show more affection, but he’d become closed off by the time that came. Nevertheless, neither of them spoke those words. They never truly opened up about what they felt, how they felt, or why they felt anything, especially romantically. Up until now, Inuyasha had never heard the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Up until recently, Inuyasha had never felt the urge to say, “I’m in love with you.”

No.

That’s wrong.

Sure, recent was a broad term, but it happened several months ago. Several months too soon, he’d deemed. Kagome was playing with his niece, teaching the six year-old how to use a toy compass she’d brought home from class, and congratulating her excitedly whenever Rin got something right. His niece wasn’t shy by any means. She was talkative, playful, bubbly, and bright. But, she had this thing about being touched. She didn’t like it. Only certain somebodies could hold her, hugs were off the table unless you were one of four people, high fives were a maybe, and yet he watched the little girl ask Kagome to watch a movie with her when she was done with the compass, cuddle up next to her on the couch, and fall asleep on her lap without persuasion.

That was it. Kagome respected Rin’s autonomy and boundaries, and Rin let her in by the third time they’d met.

And, Inuyasha fell. Hard.

Again, too soon. So, not saying it was easy. No big deal. After a while, it sort of began spilling out in his idiosyncrasies, in the way he touched her, worshipped her, in the way he craved the knowledge on how to properly care for her. In his terms, he was being painfully obvious. It was almost humiliating how obvious he was being.

It just looks like it wasn’t obvious enough. How could he have expected her to understand? It’s not like she was fluent in his body language or habits. At this point, if she needed it spelled out to her, he’d happily do so.

Because, despite her overwhelming and damn near crippling fear she’d just waded through, Kagome still told him the truth. Kagome courageously stood there, attempted to look him in the eyes, and told him she loved him, no matter how scared or nervous she appeared. If he needed to say it back in order for her to understand, he could return the gesture without hesitation.

First, though, he needed to comprehend what was going through that head of hers. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. This wasn’t the time to do so. What she was feeling, that look in her eyes, it stemmed from something deep, something that wasn’t quite healed. He needed, desperately needed, to know what happened. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut earlier, but he hadn’t promised how long he’d hold that. She may have meant about that topic entirely, but that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t agree to. There was no way in hell he was going to let this slide. Eventually, they were going to have to discuss this.

Now was that time.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, filled with a rage that had surfaced as soon as she shakily asked him if he still wanted her to stay, feeling so irate that he could only clench his fists and pace the floor. There was a good fucking chance this originated with her ex. Maybe her father, but his gut told him otherwise. The things he knew about that relationship were vague. Kagome didn’t like to fixate on it, which was reasonable for anyone who’d moved on, and they never really found a good time to open up about nitty gritty details pertaining to failed relationships; they were more focused on one another and their individual lives. He was fuming. What the fuck had that motherfucker done?

He knew they broke up over two years ago. He knew he’d dumped her just before their anniversary. He knew their relationship wasn’t entirely horrible, but much like he and his own ex-girlfriend, they were rarely on the same page. That’s about it, though. He’d heard a thing or two about how she’d realized way after they’d broken up just how toxic their relationship actually was - one of those late night, shower-thought epiphanies - but she never much elaborated. Hell, she talked about it all so rarely, Inuyasha had even forgotten the fucker’s name. He was her ex-boyfriend so that naturally deemed him irrelevant, because Inuyasha was her current boyfriend and that was all that fucking mattered. But, now he wished he remembered because it would make it at least a little easier to track the bitch ass down and punch his lights out.

She’d opened the door, and he needed to know what was on the other side of it. Inuyasha not only craved, but found it a foundational necessity to understand what had her so anxious to tell him how she felt. First, he recognized he needed to calm down. He couldn’t approach this with heightened emotion because it would cause Kagome to feel insecure and unsafe, which he would never allow her to feel around him.

That was hard for him to do, though. To swallow his frustration, push it aside. He felt things passionately, much like Kagome did. For her, for the light he always looked to for a sense of peace and felicity, for the woman he respected and cherished, he would do it. He could do it.

It took a moment, but Inuyasha left his room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on and an extra one for his girlfriend. The shower had stopped running moments ago, and the hairdryer was now blowing. She was biding time. Kagome, more often than not, let her hair air dry. This was killing him. The fact that she was so afraid, so nervous, the fact that she felt anything but contentment in the face of pure and unbridled emotion. Inuyasha just wanted to burst through the bathroom door and tell her to stop, demand she look him in the eyes and say it again and watch how he would never turn away from her. What could he have possibly said that had her more content with silence?

Content wasn’t what she’d felt at all though, was it? Even after he’d kept his mouth shut, Kagome was still trembling, still incredibly uncomfortable.

He was going to the bottom of this.

But, something in his heart wrenched. Overall, he just hoped with everything he had that she didn’t regret telling him.

There was careful deliberation on where he should wait for her. He’d debated standing outside the bathroom door to guide her back with him, but that would apply a lot of pressure straight from a safe zone. There was always the option to sit on the couch until she emerged, but still, he was worried she’d feel like she was under a spotlight. No matter what, Inuyasha was going to be taking her back into his bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable, and he just wanted to fucking hold her. The best course of action was to let Kagome come to him. When she was ready. No matter how much patience wasn’t his virtue. So, he ambled back through the doorway with both water bottles in hand, placing them on the nightstand as he got himself into more comfortable clothing. He’d never finished changing after dropping his shirt on the floor. He grabbed his grey sweats off the end of the bed and shoved his legs into them after removing his jeans, then fished a black tank top out of his dresser, easily and quickly pulling it over his head.

It wasn’t a bad thing that she’d told him. Kagome should be proud of herself. Over and over again, she’d repeated that in her head, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she’d done something wrong. Maybe she’d put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable. She should have at least given him the space to tell her he wasn’t ready to say it back if that was how he felt. That she would have completely and wholeheartedly understood without fault.

Now she was stuck in an unknown area, her head was foggy, her fingers kept trembling, and her eyes were puffy from crying like a baby in the shower. The goal was to tell him how she felt. It was a step in the right direction. A step toward who she truly was behind the protective walls. From this point on, depending on how Inuyasha was feeling, it might be best to pretend nothing happened. Sweep it under the rug.

Everything was so conflicting, so turbulent, and Kagome could bring herself to do nothing but stare at the bathroom doorknob. Her hair was dry, she was dressed in her borrowed outfit, smelling purely of Inuyasha, and even though he still wanted her to stay, she couldn’t believe anything other than the possibility that she’d ruined everything.

What would happen once she exited the bathroom? Would things be uncomfortable? Would he be laying down in bed, facing the wall away from her, silent? Would he ignore her? Would he say something she was terrified to hear right now? Or, was she trapped in her unhealthy thoughts? Was she preparing a response to something that wasn’t waiting for her outside that door? Was she not giving Inuyasha the opportunity to respond in his own, organic way, expecting all the responses she was trained to anticipate before?

With a deep breath, Kagome reached for the knob, twisting it to exit. The apartment was as quiet as it was when she locked herself inside, the clock in the living room ticking loudly as she slowly sauntered through. Lights were dim, but the bedroom, through the opened door, was inhabited. The lamps shaded the white walls in warm hues, and as she got closer she noticed a very soft hum of music playing through the bluetooth speakers he had set up in there, quiet but still melodic and comforting.

Though her heart was pounding and a jittery sensation within her chest was causing her to tread cautiously, she followed the path into his bedroom, spotting Inuyasha sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He was quick to notice her presence, sitting up and glancing at her, and even though she faked a smile with a curious notch of her head, it was clear he saw right through her. How wouldn’t he? If he already didn’t know her so well, it was obvious she wouldn’t go from cripplingly apprehensive before her shower to sweet and happy immediately after.

Inuyasha noticed the pink in her cheeks, the stupidly cute but feigned upturn of her plush lips, the way her deep eyes bounced away from him before coming right back only to repeat the same motions. His Kagome. His sweet, hurting, beautiful Kagome.

With an arch of his brow, the hanyou wagged his finger at her, ushering her over to sit on his lap. She was hesitant at first. She knew what was coming, but still, despite her slight discomfort, he released a small, breathy chuckle so she knew he wasn’t upset with her.

“C’mere.” He requested softly, patting his thighs.

“What?” Kagome returned, unsure.

“I want you. C’mere.”

Slowly, she crossed the floor, accepting her boyfriend’s support as she straddled his lap and got comfortable. An uncontrollable pout formed on her face when he looked into her eyes, she felt it, and humiliation washed over her, causing her to hide her expression between his shoulder and neck.

Inuyasha was patient, making sure she was secure in her seat before his hands traveled over her. At first, he couldn’t help but hug her tight. In this moment, Kagome seemed so fragile and he could already feel her body shaking against him. She knew he was going to talk whether she liked it or not.

Still, he gave her a little more time, relaxing against him, her chest melting on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders but accepting his full support as his hands rubbed over her back soothingly.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?” He asked, opening back up the topic.

“Did I do it wrong?�� Kagome spoke, her voice small.

“I’m not worried about right and wrong here, baby. Can you look at me for a second?”

Carefully, Kagome leaned back, giving him the attention he requested. His large, warm hands cradled her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his eye contact firm.

“I never want you to be afraid to tell me something, okay? Especially, how you feel.”

Immediately, Kagome began to crumble. Her cheeks grew hot and her lips twitched downward sadly. Tears too quickly threatened her eyes, and Kagome was hasty to hide her face in his shoulder again.

“I need you to talk to me, Kagome. What’s going on?” He asked, returning to rubbing her back. In the silence as he waited, he picked up the back hem of the large shirt she wore, pushing his hands beneath so he could gently massage her skin. The heat from her, the softness, he craved it right now. “Was it something I did?”

Kagome fervently shook her head against him.

“I’m never going to understand unless you tell me, baby. That wasn’t the normal amount of nervousness you’d expect when saying something like that. So, what’s going on?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to say it back if you weren’t ready.” Kagome sniffled, hugging him tighter.

“Okay, I get that. And, what else?”

“That’s all.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Can we just pretend nothing happened and go back to our happy date night?” She whined playfully.

“Unfortunately, no.” Inuyasha chuckled, catching her small attempt at laughing off her problems. “I can’t do that while you’re crying on me, Kagome.”

“I’m not crying.” She sniffled again.

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope. These are just allergies.”

“And, what are you suddenly allergic to?”

“Feelings.” Kagome giggled, though she began crying harder, only because her boyfriend was being sweet and obviously getting through to her. She both hated and loved it at the same time.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, holding her a little tighter as his hand slipped higher up her bare back. The curve from her little slouch against him had her spine popping out slightly, and ever so softly, Inuyasha traced his fingers over the bones.

“What were you so afraid of me saying?” He all but whispered.

Mustering up some courage, Kagome leaned back, using one hand to meagerly clear her messy face of tears. She took a few unsteady breaths before speaking, her eyes falling to the hem of the collar of his black top, and she allowed her fingers to distractingly drag along it.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you loved me if you weren’t ready or felt pressured, because I don’t want you to take it back later on.”

The hanyou’s brows furrowed inquisitively and he was unable to bite back the reaction of his head cocking to the side in bemusement.

“What?” He almost hissed. “Why would I do that?”

Kagome didn’t answer, continuing to play with the shirt he wore.

“Kagome, why are you afraid of that happening? Don’t tell me -“ Inuyasha had to tense his breath in his lungs to refrain from letting his upset get the better of him. “Did your ex…?”

She responded with the littlest nod, worrying her bottom lip incessantly. “Multiple times.”

“Multiple times?” He echoed on an exhale, his expression widening. His hands were holding her hips, squeezing as comfortingly as possible, but Inuyasha was struck cold. Not only had someone shattered her, but someone managed to look at this woman on top of him and take back their love on more than one occasion? This girl? How? He’d only had her for half a year and he was scared shitless of losing her, so it didn’t make any fucking sense that someone would just toss her aside like that as if she meant nothing.

Slowly, Kagome curled forward, tucking herself against his shoulder. It was like a safety net. Inuyasha was so warm, he held her perfectly every time she felt emotional and vulnerable. As much as she didn’t want to talk about this, she knew this topic would come up eventually. It was a staple of her by now, something she was clearly conditioned to expect after years of receiving it, and even before she fell in love with the man stroking her back beneath her shirt, she knew this issue would arise. It wasn’t going to be easy or quick to work through, that was a given, and she knew he was ultimately going to need to know some of the toxic occurrences of her previous relationship; things that were done to her and things she’d done, as well. She’d considered it was going to be something he’d want clarity on as soon as she admitted her feelings. It was fair. Being on the other end of things, he deserved to know what she’d been through and why she inadvertently responded the way she had.

It was just hard. It was hard to think about and hard to talk about.

But, if she could power through her fear of admitting her feelings, then she could give him everything else, too. It was another step in the right direction, no matter how unsteady the pathway seemed.

“I told him I loved him first, and he responded by telling me I shouldn’t. He was my first love, so I didn’t really know how to react or what to say to that. It’s not like I could just take it back or agree or something.”

“Right.” Inuyasha almost hummed, listening intently to her explanation as he kissed her shoulder here and there.

“Almost a year later, he told me he was falling in love with me. A few months after that, he took it back and said he wasn’t so sure anymore since we’d been arguing.”

The half demon couldn’t control his reaction to hold Kagome a little tighter. It was like an attempt to protect her from things he knew he couldn’t begin to protect her from. If he could control it, no one would ever speak to her like that. No one would ever hurt her this way. No one would ever be able to apply that pressure to her shoulders, because how could she not feel obligated to be perfect and compliant in order to feel valued and cherished?

“Then, I don’t know how long later, he told me he loved me again. It stayed consistent for a while. He’d tell me periodically, particularly when I did nice things for him or if I said it first. Then, again, he ended up taking it back. I had felt it that time and asked him if he still loved me. He said, ‘I don’t know.’ Followed by,” Kagome’s fingers clutched Inuyasha’s shirt, exhaling tremblingly, though she had been doing so well at keeping it together. “‘Maybe soon I’ll love you again, though.’ So, I idiotically stayed. I held onto that hope. I waited and waited until we got into this stupid fight and he broke up with me the next day. He made sure to emphasize that he didn’t love me. But, said he might in the future, we’d just need to stay friends. ‘You never know what the future stores.’”

God, Inuyasha wanted to kill him.

“There was one night after we finally found separate places, we were packing, getting ready to move out of our shared apartment, and we were talking about old things. He told me he never loved me. And, I just never understood why things went on for so long just because he wasn’t sure. Why would you say it if you didn’t? Why couldn’t he have let me go sooner? What good was I if he didn’t even want me there? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, but he was because he literally hung that over my head for most of the time we were together, threatening me with leaving if I didn’t do something right. I have so many things to work through because of him, so many trauma responses to correct, trust issues that I’m projecting unto you, and he walked away like nothing ever happened.” Kagome cried, once again shaking against Inuyasha.

All he could do was kiss her, hush her soothingly, hold her tight, rub the hot flesh of her back. Let her cry. He understood now. He got it. It was why she struggled to take compliments the first time around. It was why she second-guessed sweet gestures. It was why she assumed everything was sarcastic and insincere. It was why she thought her love for him was problematic. She didn’t want him to say anything because she was scared of the words, “I love you.” They meant nothing to some people, they were used as tools, and so easily, they could be erased. Sad thing was, Inuyasha was sure that even if he said the words right here and now, she wouldn’t even believe him.

“Of course, he’s obviously not the sole reason for why I am the way that I am. Can’t give him credit for everything.” Kagome gave a wet giggle, again laughing through her problems. Her coping mechanisms were all over the place, but it was still cute.

Inuyasha sighed defeatedly, laughing lightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“So,” He breathed. “You didn’t want me to say anything because you figured nothing was better than something I could hurt you with.”

Her silence was as good as confirmation.

Inuyasha pulled her in firmer, an arm supporting her low back as he picked her up, rotated their bodies, crawled a little further on the bed, and laid her beneath him on the mattress. He had a knee between her legs, but rested on her side, an elbow propping him up while he used his free hand to gently swipe her tears away.

“It was more because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Kagome finally spoke after moments of peaceful silence, taking the opportunity he provided to calm down before continuing. “But, then I started to panic. I felt like this is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not everyone is going to respond the way he does, right? I just wanted to tell you so bad. It’s supposed to be a good thing, but I got trapped in my head thinking history would only repeat itself.”

“Baby, are you sure you were ready to tell me?” Inuyasha inquired, dragging his finger along her temple to clean the tears that followed gravity.

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid of love. I didn’t want to allow myself to sink and be afraid to love, too. That’s not me. I feel like I’d only be letting him stick around in my mind if I did that, but I just want to love you. I do.” Kagome cried, eyes falling away from him. “I wanted you to know, and I’ve been holding onto it long enough.”

Inuyasha leaned his head down, kissing her shoulder. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his lips so he pulled the baggy collar away so he could leave a tender and invisible mark on her clavicle.

“How long?” The hanyou breathed.

“A month or so.” She matched his soft tone, trying to steady her lungs and bring herself back to a calm. “The night you went on your business trip.”

“Europe?”

“Mhm.”

“Not too bad. It was the groggy voice, huh?”

Though her eyes were still wet and the hair at the sides of her temples were soaked, her cheeks flushed, Kagome glanced back over to him with a hint of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Because, I knew I’d get a response from you. Always do.” He smirked, planting sweet kisses against her cheek, and moving up to kiss tears away.

“You know I like that?”

“It’s my job to read you like a book, baby. I take my work very seriously. You’re subtle, but I see things I do that you like. You’ve got little mannerisms that give you away.”

“Like what?”

He hummed a decline. “I’m not giving that secret to you. Let me have this. You know what I will tell you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you promise to hear me out? No interrupting, okay? Just listen to me.”

There was an increase in the tension that climbed through her muscles, and her pout turned weary. Inuyasha took a moment to continue kissing her temple, her cheekbone, his palm finding its way beneath her shirt to softly stroke her tummy. When she relaxed a little, he leaned back to look at her.

“Remember that day Rin took a nap with you? I stayed up that night. Couldn’t sleep. I had you here next to me, and I just couldn’t stop listening to the sound of your breathing. I was scared shitless, but the crazy fucking part was, even though you weren’t awake, having you right here helped keep me calm. It was counterintuitive. I was both scared of you and at peace with you. I wanted you to wake up and do that thing where you tickle the small of my back with your fingers because, god, nothing feels better than that. It was like you held all of me in the palm of your hands, and you could easily drop it in the trash at any given moment. But, it’s you. I knew you wouldn’t. That was my night, though. That was the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

Kagome hardened slightly, and he could literally hear how hard her heart was thumping within her chest. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t make much of any expression really, aside from her brows giving a minor, inward twitch.

“That was quite a few months ago. Nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten deeper. I’m so worried one day you’ll walk out those doors and never come back. I don’t want to lose you just as badly as you don’t want to lose me.” He was the one to hide his face this time, tucking it within her neck as he threaded his arms around her back, holding her close. He hadn’t expected her to clutch him in return, but she did. Immediately. Kagome supported him through his own moment of vulnerability, but more importantly, he felt it was a way to communicate her reception. “I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you begin to believe me. I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel secure in our relationship. I’ll do it all. You know I don’t say shit unless I mean it.”

“I believe you.” Kagome whispered, a small hiccup at the tale end that jostled her chest. “That’s the scary part.”

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I get it.” Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “But, one of these days you’ll understand that no matter what happens, I won’t take a damn thing back. You’ll see that I don’t want it back. I feel like my heart’s safer with you, anyway.”

“Stop it.” She pouted, but he knew that was her way of conceding. Even as she cried a little harder and tucked herself into his chest so he couldn’t see it. “You’re being too sweet. Be mean to me again.”

Inuyasha chuckled, raising his hand, “As you wish.” He said, smacking it down against her butt.

The little yelp she released was so sad but adorable as she flinched away from the sting, but it inadvertently brought her to cuddle closer to him. The hanyou laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Hm?” She grumbled into his chest.

“Tell me again. This time look right at me. Don’t look away, don’t fidget, just trust me. That was my first time hearing it. I gotta hear it straight.”

She hadn’t realized Inuyasha hadn’t heard the words before. She didn’t know that. This was big for him too, if not bigger. Was she his first love? Was she the first person he’d ever said that to? Kagome felt a warmth course through her, and even though she was slightly nervous, she didn’t feel unsteady. Not while he held her. Not while his amber eyes were above her, watching her with an emotion she’d never before seen. She came out of hiding with a level of ease she hadn’t felt a moment ago, secure, one of his hands lightly trailing her side beneath her borrowed shirt.

Her fingers had a mind of their own, reaching for his cheek as she softly caressed it, her thumb tenderly rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

It was like a sigh of relief left his lungs, and the corners of his mouth inched upward. His eyes were hooded with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her, lingering on her soft lips.

“Your turn.” Kagome whispered as he pulled away, her brown eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips.

It felt incredible that she wanted to hear it now. And, though he knew everything was going to take time until she felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t take a damn thing back, he knew it would take time to work through her trust issues little-by-little, he didn’t mind. Because, she was his and he was hers, and he was all too happy to hold her hand and walk by her side while they figured everything out. He couldn’t fix this for her. He hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. That’s not how it worked, though. He knew this. She knew this. Inuyasha was her partner through everything, and he’d be the best fucking partner he could be.

He grinned with their foreheads pressed together, his hand on her waist gripping tighter as he couldn’t help but chuckle from sheer bliss. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Kagome smiled, pushing Inuyasha over to roll on top, once more straddling his hips as she gazed down at him. She wanted to burn this image of him in her mind. She never wanted to forget that soft look in his eyes, or the way he reached up and tenderly wiped away any remaining tears that stained her face. He meant it. She believed him. And, she hoped with everything inside of her that he never took it away from her.

She curled down, cuddling into her chest and Inuyasha immediately turned his head to kiss her forehead. He held her close, gently stroking her hair back and basking in her incredibly comforting heat. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. His Kagome.

“What do you need right now, baby?”

“Nothing.” She hummed.

“What do you want, then.”

He knew she struggled with that one, but whenever he asked, she did her best to communicate properly. “Touch my butt again.”

Inuyasha laughed huskily, his hands gliding down her back to take a firm and wonderful hold on her ass.

“And, pizza.”

“Oh, see, I’m a step ahead of you on that one. Ordered a couple before you got out of the shower.”

Kagome gave a short half whine - half squeal of happiness as she cuddled in closer and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

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