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joelsgreys · 11 months

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Lonely Too Long l (To Hell and Back Drabble)

Series Masterlist

Summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, minors DNI. Flashback of implied SA, but no descriptions. Soft Joel, Joel sings to reader. *If you happen to be reading the series, I recommend reading this one because it starts setting up Joel and reader’s relationship. This is also the last flashback she’s going to have since it’s a heavier one than the last two.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Dust to Dust is one of my favorite songs by The Civil Wars. I know the song did not come out until like 2013, but we’re just going to pretend. Also, I know that the gif is video game Joel, but god I love him just as much and it fits this scene so we are gonna roll with it. I know this might not be everyone’s cup of tea but I wanted to write it so I did. 🤌🏼 I am still organizing the taglist for this series, it will be start with the next chapter. This was mostly for me but hopefully some people out there enjoy it too. 🤍

You couldn’t scream.

You’re trying to cry out, but you can’t.

Chest tight, your lungs won’t expand.

You couldn’t breathe.

One hand around your neck, the other is fumbling with the zipper of your jeans.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he grinned, his fingers roughly scraping against the skin of your lower stomach.

In the corner, your cellmate is curled into a little ball in the floor, hands covering her ears and her eyes squeezed shut.

She’s probably praying she won’t be next.

She’s seventeen so even in the midst of your own chaos, you can’t help but pray she isn’t next too.

You thrashed around underneath him. It’s futile, but all you can think about is getting him off you.

Grin fading, he let out a heavy, irritated sigh. His hand left the waistband of your jeans. He reached behind him and pulled out his gun, bringing it up to into your view—it caused you to cease any and all movements. “Listen to me,” he said, pressing the barrel of the pistol against your temple. “It’s simple, really. Keep squirming and I’ll blow your fucking brains out. Do you understand, dollface?”

When he received no response, he dug the barrel deeper into your skin, his finger on the trigger.

“Do you understand?” He repeated, his tone low.

Nearly paralyzed, all you could do was nod.

“Good.” He roughly flipped you over.

The sound of his belt buckle clanking rang loudly in your ears. As he yanked your jeans down to the middle of your thighs, you closed your eyes.

Both your mind and your body went numb.

A light, late night rainstorm came out of nowhere, sweeping over the town. The soft, pitter pattering sound of raindrops on the window above your bed had almost lulled you into slumber.

Almost.

You’re safe.

The words blended into a steady but silent chant.

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe.

Slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead, you exhaled a long, heavy sigh and stared up into the the darkness of the bedroom.

You couldn’t be certain as to what time it was, but it had to be well into the middle of the night. You’d been tossing and turning for a couple of hours but somehow it felt like a hell of a lot longer than that.

You were fucking exhausted. You nearly ached for some sleep, but every damn time that you closed your eyes, vivid images of the past came creeping in and chased it further and further away.

Your brain just couldn’t seem to wrap itself around the fact that this place wasn’t dangerous.

That you didn’t have to sleep with one eye open.

That nobody was going to hurt you.

That you were safe in a soft bed in a real house.

You weren’t lying on a dirty cot in a human cage.

Sighing again, you thought about Joel who was in his bedroom down the hallway, sleeping.

It brought you comfort knowing he was close. But for some reason you couldn’t quite explain, part of you couldn’t help but feel he wasn’t close enough.

You. The same woman who vowed never to trust another human being ever again—you wanted him fucking closer. Actually, it wasn’t a want so much as it was a need.

You needed him to be closer.

Sitting up, you tossed the sheets back and swung your legs over the edge of the mattress, your bare feet meeting the cold, hardwood floors. You stood and quietly padded out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards Joel’s.

“You know where to find me if you need anythin’,” he’d assured you before he had gone off to bed.

You stopped in front of his door and lifted a curled first, knocking lightly. About a minute or two went by, and just when you started to realize that you’d made a mistake and whirled around to make a run for it back to your own room where you could hop back into bed and pretend that the thought of this hadn’t ever even crossed your mind, he opened up his bedroom door.

“Thought I heard a knock,” Joel mumbled sleepily, rubbing at his eyes with one of his hands. He wore nothing but his sweatpants, his hair looking about ten times more disheveled than usual. “Everythin’ alright?”

You swallowed dryly, trying your hardest not to let your eyes wander away from his face—it proved to be almost too difficult to keep from staring. Joel’s shoulders were broad, his chest was wide, and his stomach was soft; his sweatpants hung on the low side on his hips and revealed the trail of dark curls that started at his lower belly and descended until it disappeared underneath the elastic waistband.

You caught yourself before they could go lower.

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, stifling a yawn. Thankfully he hasn’t seemed to notice you gawking at him. He rubbed at his eyes once again and then observed you, trying to figure out what it was that had brought you to his room at this hour. “You need somethin’? Are you cold? Did you need an extra blanket?”

You lightly shook your head in response. No.

He tried again. “Are you still hungry?” he asked as he gestured towards the stairs. “I can make you another sandwich if you want—”

He was cut off by another shake of your head that told him that wasn’t it.

“You just can’t sleep,” Joel realized after a minute. He frowned—he could see how tired you were and for as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he had a feeling that he knew what it was that was on your mind and keeping you awake. “What can I do to help, sweetness?”

You blinked, standing there almost dumbfounded.

Clearly, you hadn’t thought this through.

You would knock on Joel’s door and then what?

You would talk to him about what’s on your mind?

Letting out a tiny frustrated huff that was directed at yourself, you waved a dismissive hand in the air.

Forget it. There’s nothing you can do.

As you turned around to leave, Joel reached out to take your arm. He curled his fingers lightly around your elbow. “Well now, hold on a minute. You’re at my door for a reason,” he said. He watched as your eyes flickered to his hand around your arm, but he couldn’t be sure if his touch had bothered you. He dropped it, not wanting to risk pushing you too far or crossing a line, not when he had made progress with you, progress he didn’t want to lose. “You not bein’ able to sleep—it have anythin’ to do with you still not feelin’ safe?”

You hesitated.

“It’s alright, darlin’. You can be honest with me.”

The sheepish expression on your face said it all.

No, I can’t sleep because I don’t feel safe.

“Would it help if you slept with me?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, eyes widening at his proposal. At least, the way he’d said it.

Excuse me?

Realizing how it had sounded, Joel flushed. “What I mean is, would it help if you slept in my bed?” He winced. That hadn’t sounded all that much better. “You sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he sputtered out quickly. “That’s what I meant. That way I’m right next to you and you ain’t alone.”

Gnawing nervously on your bottom lip, you took a minute to think it over.

If you wanted him closer, this was your chance.

But why? Why did you want him to be closer? Why did you need to have him at your side?

You’d been on your own for an entire fucking year.

And it had been by choice.

You didn’t want to be around other people, sure as hell didn’t need to be around other people.

And then Joel Miller makes his appearance and all of a sudden, you’re at his door in the middle of the damn night because you feel the need to have him at your side?

Finally, you nodded your head. Okay.

“Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing you in. Not wanting you to feel trapped in his room, he left the door open. “And you’re free to go on back to your own room whenever you feel like it.”

Joel picked up his discarded tee shirt from earlier, a small labored grunt escaping him as he brought himself back into an upright position, the bones in his lower back crackling with protest. Turning over his shirt right side out, he tugged it on as you took a look around his bedroom, a larger space dimly lit by the small lamp on his nightstand.

That’s when you saw it.

Perched on a stand, it was nestled in the corner.

A guitar.

Curiously, you walked over and knelt in front of it.

You reached out and softly ran your fingers across the strings, smiling to yourself at the sound it had made.

“Found that while out on patrol with Tommy a few weeks ago,” Joel stated as he came up behind you slowly. “Gibson. Little worse for wear, but in damn good condition all things considerin’. Woulda been a crime to leave it out there,” he chuckled. “I know Ellie’s been wantin’ to learn, it’s the main reason it came back home with me. I haven’t shown her yet since I still gotta clean and polish her up.” He took a brief pause. “You know how to play?”

You ran your fingers across the strings once more, and a loud, terrible noise that wasn’t even close to music caused him to wince. You then looked up at him over your shoulder with an amused grin.

Does it sound like I know how to play?

Joel couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll take that as a no, then.” He leaned over and picked up the guitar. He walked over and took a seat on the side of his bed, patting the seat beside him. “C’mere, sweetness.”

Getting up to your feet, you wrapped Joel’s flannel closer around your body as you padded over to his bed, perching yourself next to him.

Head down and focused, he began to strum a few notes. You couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by how his large hands moved on the instrument, the way his long, thick fingers—

Swallowing dryly, you cut the thought short.

Curiously, you put a hand on his shoulder.

Joel paused the tune. “What is it, darlin’?”

With your opposite hand, you touched your throat and then pointed at him. Can you sing?

He gave a half hearted shrug. “I do like to sing,” he admitted almost bashfully. “Always been fond of it ever since I was a kid.” He chuckled. “Before goin’ into construction, I wanted to be a musician. But I knew it would never pay the bills.”

You squeezed Joel’s shoulder and gestured to the guitar, then to his throat again. Will you sing me a song?

Joel felt the back of his neck burn and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Normally, I would probably say no,” he admitted. “But, seein’ as you saved my life and all, I’d be a real asshole if I said no to you.”

Lifting your chin, you shot him a smug look. That is very true. So go on then, Johnny Cash. Play me a song.

“Alright. Any requests?”

You nudged him lightly. Very funny.

“Okay, um. Gimme a minute to think of a song.”

Withdrawing your hand from his shoulder, you sat back against his pillows and pulled your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees.

Nervously, Joel inhaled and exhaled a deep breath and began strumming the guitar. Chills shot down your spinal cord as a hauntingly beautiful melody filled his bedroom. He turned and angled his body towards to you as he began to sing.

“You’ve held your head up,

you’ve fought the fight

you bear the scars, you’ve done your time

listen to me, you’ve been lonely too long…”

Your mouth fell open slightly.

“Let me in the walls you’ve built around

we can light a match and burn them down…”

The rich baritone of his voice caused goosebumps to eruprt all over your flesh. Furiously, you rubbed at your bare legs, but it was useless.

With every note Joel sang to you, more appeared.

With every note Joel sang to you, the harder you found it to breathe steady.

With every note Joel sang to you, the more beats your heart seemed to be skipping.

“Let me hold your hand

and dance ‘round and ‘round the flames

in front of us, dust to dust…”

Joel glanced up, his dark brown eyes holding your gaze as he sang the final verse of the song.

“You’re like a mirror, reflectin’ me

takes one to know one, so take it from me

you’ve been lonely

you’ve been lonely too long.”

Even if you could speak to him, you would’ve been left speechless—all that you could do was stare at him in complete awe.

Joel set the guitar down. “I’m alright,” he said with a sheepish little laugh. “My voice ain’t nowhere as nice as yours.”

You stiffened slightly.

What are you talking about?

“Don’t look at me like that. I know it was you who I heard singin’ back at that cabin when I was comin’ back around.” He gave you a crooked grin. “Earlier I was just playin’ dumb, but I know it was you. You have a gorgeous voice, and I’d love to hear it again someday.”

Hugging your legs closer to yourself, you dropped your head down onto your knees, embarrassed.

What was the matter with you?

Here was a man who had taken you in, offered you a warm bed under his own roof—gave you clothes and fed you, even offered to give up his own damn bed and sleep on the cold hard floor beside you to make you feel safe enough to sleep.

And you still couldn’t say a fucking word to him.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Forcing your head up, your gaze met his.

“It’s alright, darlin’,” Joel assured you. “It’s just like I told you downstairs. We’re gonna take it one step at a time.” Lifting one of his hands, he reached out holding it out to you, his palm face upwards. “And I swear, once you find your voice, I’m gonna do all that I can do to make sure you never lose it again.”

Biting your lower lip, you placed your hand in his.

Joel have it a gentle squeeze. “Atta girl.”

Much sooner than you would have liked, he let go of your hand and stood up.

“We should get some sleep. You’re gonna need all the rest you can get before you meet my kid. Ellie. She’ll be here first thing and I should warn you she can be, uh, she can be a lot to process.” He let out an amused snort and reached for a pillow, tossing it onto the floor. “You can have all the blankets, I’ll just take this throw here—”

As Joel reached past you for a green flannel throw blanket, you grabbed his arm to stop him. His face was just inches from yours.

Close.

But again somehow still not close enough.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, softly.

Warm and laced with mint from the toothpaste he had used to brush his teeth before bed, his breath tickled the tip of of your nose, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine.

Your eyes looked right into his as you scooter over to the other side of his bed—it was firm, cold. Like no one had ever occupied that space before. But it was foolish to think that a man like Joel Miller had never had another woman share his bed before.

You patted the spot beside you.

Sleep up here.

“You sure about this, darlin’?”

You patted the empty spot again. Yes I’m sure.

Joel squinted at you. “You ain’t gonna strangle me in my sleep, are you now?”

His half serious joke was met with a glare.

Keep it up with wise cracks and I just might.

He held his hands up in defense. “Just checkin.”

As you crawled underneath his dark green sheets, Joel slid into bed beside you, making sure to leave a good three foot gap between the both of you; he murmured a quiet goodnight and switched off the lamp on his nightstand before rolling over onto his stomach—not even two minutes later and his soft snores filled the room.

You turned onto your side, facing him. Through a beam of moonlight steaming in through a crack in the curtains, you could just make out the outlines of his facial features. He’d fallen asleep facing you.

Closing your eyes, your body sank further into the mattress, heavy with exhaustion.

Taut, tense muscles finally relaxed.

Tight jaw finally unclenched.

You’re safe.

You slowly started drifting off to sleep.

With Joel beside you, no nightmares came to visit.

#to hell and back #to hell and back fic #joel miller #joel miller comfort #soft joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller drabble #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller series #Joel miller story #joel miller fic #Joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #Spotify

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lu-vin-it · 1 year

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1 | Letters From the Living

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Series Masterlist

Summary: You’ve always loved journaling. It’s a hobby you keep even after the world turns upside down.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Reader, Reader x Brad

Pronouns Used: None

Word Count: 882

Warnings: Death, typical twd stuff

A/N: Ty @spnczr and @stqrluvr for proofreading ily guys sm!

Hey me! It is August 25th, 2010. I’m on my way to Georgia for Jenny’s birthday. Brad is with me, he says hi. He’s being a gentleman and driving me. He won’t play anything other than Limp Bizkit and it’s honestly annoying. Oh! Guess what? Since my last entry (a month ago, yikes), I am officially a fiancé! Brad proposed!!!!!! Awesome right? I’ve never been happier in my life. Seriously. My job is good, I’m ENGAGED(!!!!), my family is within a two hour drive… everything is going great. I’m so happy. Like so happy. Ugh. It’s sickening. Okay bye, we’re at waffle house.

It’s been two weeks. Everything has gone to shit. I don’t really know how else to explain it. People got sick and they started trying to eat other people. You can only kill the infected by targeting their brain. Half the population is probably dead by now. I barely escaped with Brad and Jenny. I’m terrified. I can’t sleep. Brad has been doing his best, he’s been carrying Dad’s gun around, trying to make sure Jen and I are okay. We found a group outside of Atlanta, it’s by a quarry. There’s a lot of people. I’ve been talking to a girl, Andrea, a lot. She’s sweet, cares about her sister, Amy, a bunch. Jen and Amy get along too. Funny right? Sisters with sisters.

Anyways, we’ve been camping for almost two weeks and I don’t know what to do. We can’t find Mom or Dad, so I’ve been taking care of Jen. She’s only fourteen. She had to watch someone be eaten alive. I’m mostly scared for her. I’m so worried. Hopefully the government will fix this soon.

It’s been a week since my last entry. I know, crazy. Before this I barely wrote in here at all. I guess I just don’t have much else to do. There isn’t really anything to tell you. The dead still walk. Brad’s still the same as ever. It’s freaking me out honestly. He hasn’t seemed at all concerned about any of this. Anywho, there’s a guy here, Shane, who’s taken leadership of the group. He used to be a sheriff's deputy, so I guess everyone kinda trusts him. I don’t. There’s something off about him. Got to go, time to sort through what Glenn brought back.

You’ll never believe what happened today. Rick Grimes came back to camp with Glenn, Andrea, Morales, Jaqui, and T-Dog. Rick Grimes is the husband of Lori Grimes and father to Carl Grimes, two people who’ve been living at the camp since the start!! He’s also that Shane guy’s best friend. Apparently he was shot on duty and has been in a coma. Somehow he made his way here. Pretty cool, right??? Shane seems even more off now that he’s here though. (He was totally fucking Lori. Even Jen says so.).

Also, Merle Dixon didn’t come back from the run. Fuckers left him handcuffed to the rooftop!!! Can you believe that???? Daryl (his brother) is going to have a field day when he gets back from hunting.

Brad is still normal. I love him. It’s crazy how he’s been so calm, but I appreciate it. He’s my rock.

I have never been more depressed in my life. Brad died. He was bitten trying to save me from a geek. I killed the geek and I held him until I was dragged away by Jenny. I think someone shot him after I Iaid down. God. Someone shot him after I laid down. Wow. Sorry if the ink is smudged. I’m really trying not to cry. It’s late. I don’t want to wake anyone up. I want him. I need him back. I don’t think I can do this without him. He was my life. He’s all I’ve known for the past eight years. I still remember when I met him. First day of senior year, and he was the new kid from New York. Everyone wanted to talk to him. But he talked to me. Plain old me. I don’t think there’s been a day since where I haven’t been with him. How do I do this?

We found shelter. We went to Atlanta to the CDC. There’s only one man left, Dr. Brenner. He’s nice. He fed us, let us shower (HOT WATER!!!!), and he’s going to let us stay here as long as we want. Jenny’s super excited. She’s been hanging out with Sophia and Carl, the twelve year olds. I forgot to mention last time that it wasn’t just Brad who died. Most of the camp did. I’m going to start a list of who’s still living, okay? It’ll be at the end of my entries.

Anyways, Amy also died. I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to Andrea but I don’t think she’s doing so well. I know we’re dealing with the losses differently, she’s not talked to anyone and she wants to be alone. I think I’m the complete opposite. I feel awful. I wish I knew what to say to comfort her. Jenny has been kinda lonely, but Sophia asked about her necklace (it’s the locket I gave her for her 13th birthday. It still has the picture of us in it :)) and they’ve been fast friends since. I’ve been talking to Carol a bunch too. She’s Sophia’s Mom. She lost her husband the night Brad died too. She’s very sweet.

Carol, Andrea, Dale, Jaqui, Rick, Lori, Carl, T-Dog, Glenn, Daryl, Sophia and Jenny. (Morales and his family are all alive, but they left to try and find the rest of their family)

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#daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #daryl dixon x plus size reader

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val-writesstuff · 1 year

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Dear Diary

Prologue

Summary: Your brother and his best friend that you're secretly in love with, go missing. Peggy thinks somehow you’ll be able to find them. Will you find them, or will you lose yourself in the process?

wc:1.1k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

a/n: Am I starting a new series to procrastinate from my other one? Maybe. My brain doesn't listen when I tell it to focus on one thing, so here ya go.

Italics are writing

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Dear Diary

It's been a month since Steve disappeared. With him gone, nothing feels real. It feels like I'm drifting through life. I haven't felt like this since our mom died, Steve and Bucky were the only ones who could bring me back and now they're both gone.

Gone, not dead. Neither of my boys came home, neither had bodies. I think that might be worse, the not knowing. They could be stranded somewhere, freezing, and injured. I wish I could help them, wherever they are.

It’s weird being in this house alone. I don't go out anymore. I spend most of my days wrapped in my bed. I’ve been too scared to enter his room or move his stuff, what if he comes home and everything he knew is gone?

Peggy keeps coming by the house. She brings groceries, she cooks for me. Sometimes we sit and have tea together. She used to try to make small talk, but the past few days she just looked nervous around me. I know she feels bad about what happened but I can't help but blame her a little.

Our lives used to be relatively normal. Then Steve somehow gets into the army which, I know was his dream but it was crazy. I hoped they’d give him something easier like being a medic or something but he sends me a letter saying he's going to be experimented on. I didn't hear from him for a long time after that. Then ‘Captain America’ starts going around doing shows. I guess he was busy entertaining the masses. The next letter i got, he said something had happened to bucky and he was going to rescue him.

Then I got a knock on the door. Peggy herself was standing on my doorstep. I had never met her before but from the look on her face, I knew something had happened. Diary, I’m not proud of what happened next. There was a lot of screaming and crying, mostly from me. I know you'll say it's not very ladylike, but when have I cared about that before?

I still hate her a little, even if she's not the reason he joined. She got him involved in the stuff that got him killed. Got bucky killed too. I don't know if I’ll ever forgive her.

When I hear the knocking on the door I know it's her. I close up my diary and shove it back on the shelf before I open the door. Her smile wavers a little and I take a step back to let her in the apartment. I close the door behind her and busy myself with making tea so I don’t have to look at her.

I hear her sit at the table and take a deep breath before she finally says something. “Listen, I know I keep showing up and I'm probably the last person you want to see right now-” I scoff as I set the tea on the table and sit across from her. “But this time I'm here to suggest something and it's going to sound a little crazy, so please don't kick me out yet.”

From what I knew of her, Peggy’s version of crazy could be ‘come out and have a drink with me and some of the guys your brother knew’ or ‘Come get injected with an untested serum so you can fight bad guys.” Neither option sounds great right about now.

“Your brother told me about you. He told me about the things you can do, and how you're special in ways others aren't.”

“I don't know what he said but you have to believe me when I say it's not true.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Stevie has always had a very active imagination.” I tried to muster up a chuckle as I rambled about my brother. “It's probably from all his time locked inside. You know he used to get sick easily? So, mom, wouldn't let him go play with the other kids. He’d spend all his time reading fairytales or drawing them and-”

She leaned in close and whispered as if somebody might overhear her. “He told me because he thought you could help us. He knew if anybody could get you in, it’d be me. He told me how you always used to take care of him, he wanted to take care of you.”

I cross my arms and glare at her. “He had no right to tell you that. You shouldn't know about that.”

“You might be right, but I'm glad he told me. I want you to do a job for me. My little team wants to search for them, Barnes and Steve. I convinced them you're the right person for the job.” Now I knew why she had looked so nervous recently, she was offering me a small ray of hope in the darkness.

“That sounds great and all but I don't have any experience with this kind of thing. My abilities wouldn't be of any help to you.” I didn't like the idea of anybody knowing what I could do, but if it helped find Bucky or Steve I’d do whatever I could.

“Dear diary…” I mutter as I pull my coat tighter around me as the wind blows snow in my face. “Today I get to explore the middle of nowhere because my stupid brother's insane girlfriend thought it would be wise to send me out here after a month of training. Truly a match made in heaven, those two.”

“I know it seems impossible but you're their only hope.” Peggy's voice crackled out of the portable radio I was clutching in my hand. “Howard's equipment picked up activity out there and we have high hopes it's him.”

“Peggy I admire your optimism, I do.” I sighed as I paused and looked around. All I could see was whirling snow and rocky cliffs. “But it's been months… He fell off a train for god's sake. On the off chance he is alive, he would've had to survive with probably very serious injuries and no rations. If he found a way to do that…I don't think he’d still be himself.”

“Please, you have to find him.” I could hear her voice crack even through the static of the radio. I knew she wanted me to do this so she’d have a justifiable reason to send me after Steve, that's what she wanted.

In the distance, I saw something silver glint in the sun and I took off running toward it. I fell to my knees as I pulled a pair of dog tags on a chain out of the snow. “Peggy I found-” my body couldn't decide if I wanted to sob or laugh. He was somewhere out here and he had survived the fall.

I was so distracted by what I found I never noticed the man creeping up behind me. Didn't realize I wasn’t alone until I felt the sharp pain of a needle in my neck.

Remember, likes are nice but reblogs/feedback are golden!

Tagging people i think might be interested (unless you ask/fill the taglist form, i will not tag you in future posts): @wakandabiitch2 @james-bucky-barnes-bitch @piperstofu101 @holyhumorliteraturelight @moonlissworld @matchat3a @vicmc624 @hw-shorty @juliapowers @jobean12-blog @jamesbuchananbarnesslut @buckyownsmylife @cjand10

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donnerpartyofone · 10 months

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I have been trying to look up the identity of what I am led to believe is an electronic, pacemaker kinda device that was long ago implanted into an elderly cousin's brain to control her extreme suicidal depression. This is hard to google now because of the very recent emergence of similar devices that are generating lots of conversations. I wish I knew her well enough to reach out and ask probing questions about her mental health, but I don't.

It's frustrating how little I know about my family's medical history, but we are weird, and there are few of us, and fewer still are accessible. But I think about that cousin, and I think, "I have whatever she has."

My depression is way more extreme, bleak, and controlling than it was when I was young and depressed. I'm generally depressed at all times, but sometimes--like, from a few days to a few weeks--there is literally nothing I can do but lie in bed and cry and drool. Sometimes there seems to be a circumstantial trigger, but it doesn't ALWAYS result in a multi-day collapse. The collapse seems like it is going to happen when it happens, no matter what. And then it happens until it is done , whatever I do. I describe it in terms of "the juice". It's like when you've slept long enough, and your body doesn't have the juice to keep sleeping. Or you've had enough sex or jerked off enough (or you're on antidepressants), and you don't have the juice to have a fresh, satisfying orgasm. Something chemical is happening. I have the juice to feel cataclysmically bad, and then at some point I run dry, even if I still feel intellectually bad about my situation.

For a time I was afraid that my cycle, whatever it is (I haven't noticed a specific pattern yet), was related somehow to PMS. Without birth control I only have a period a couple times a year, unpredictably, and I have never been able to relate to the community women find amongst themselves related to common period issues. When I hear about PMS-related emotional problems, i.e. "I was wondering why I suddenly wanted to kms for three days and then I got my period! Awww I'M A WOMAN," I'm always offended, not comforted. It's like oh great, my feelings are not real, my most extreme experiences are purely synthetic and detached from who I am, I'm basically not even a person, cool, great. So anyway this summer has been really hard for me mentally for various more and less mysterious reasons--but I started charting depressive episodes according to my period, and I'm deeply relieved to discover that there is no apparent correlation between whatever is wrong with me and my biological sex. I should be bleeding in the next 48 hours, and yesterday I had a bad experience that often/normally sends me into a long spiral of darkness, but I came right back from it, and in the recent past plus today I have been up, ambitious, communicative, energized, and kind to others. The investigation continues.

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suuho · 2 years

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yeah one thing i am really happy about is how things seem to have shifted for junmyeon since his discharge. he released his 2nd mini, giving speeches/performing/traveling abroad, getting brand deals, etc. his schedule has been jam packed and it looks like he finally gets to be… himself? he even has his own band now. i did want to know your thoughts on seeing him live and being so close to him, though lol but you’ve been so ecstatic about seeing pentagon live and didn’t want to take that away from you (also saw that kino released his solo and that man is fine as hell jfc).

i am very happy about that as well! i feel like with his discharge and exo's 10th anniversary, he has garnered a lot of respect from the general public, a respect that was sorta long overdue but has always been locked in by exo's fluctuating past and their image as a boygroup. now, he has established himself to the general public as a serious artist and singer and songwriter. his appeal has widened with age.

part of this development i feel is also that while exo is going through enlistment and has taken a backseat groupwise, they are pushing the members in different areas as solo artist. i really hope he gets another musical gig ... that would be my dream for him rn.

now!!!! junmyeon live!!!!!!!!!!! oh god. okay, so i'll be real, it took like ... a while to sink in that i saw him live? and that i was so close to him and that he touched me? and with pentagon, i was honestly more starstruck (which i expect to happen whenever i see all of exo one day) and it hit me way earlier that i saw them live and experienced that. with junmyeon, it never felt like meeting or seeing a celebrity, instead it felt like meeting an old friend. like, he isn't The Suho to me, he's just ... junmyeon? that's just junmyeon. it's hard to explain, i guess, but it felt very much like meeting someone you've known your whole life long. (read more cause this got long)

he sounds like a dream live, it really is hard to put into words, and he was the only artist to do his full set completely live, band and all. when i walked up to the venue, he was just doing his soundcheck and you could hear him so clearly, and i just burst into tears. like, that was the moment it really hit me. and you could hear him so loudly and everyone was just waiting to be let in and it was absolutely perfect. you could see him through a gap in the fences and i stood there and watched him sound check for a minute, being absolutely content with my life, knowing that i would see him so soon.

so, the mik venue had a runway and i stood at the end of that runway. the gg stans in front of me were very kind to let me go to the front for junmyeon because they weren't there to see him, so that's how i even got so close to him. when he came on stage ... i don't know. it felt like a reunion? it felt like coming home. he is so funny and dorky and cute, but he is also incredibly handsome. i don't think i've ever seen anyone look this good in real life. he's pretty short, actually, which shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone. all i wanted from him was to play o2 live and i was unsure if he would up until he started his set and somehow, deep down in my bones, i just knew that he'd play it that night, and he did! and that was the second moment i started to cry (which i expected because the song means so much to me and it's my most favorite song he's ever released). he did all his ments in full english and at the end he mentioned that he misses the members and wishes they were here with him too. and we did the exo chant and i was just crying because i was so sooo happy. ))): <3

now, when he came down ...... oh god. he came down on the other side of the stage so the moment my brain realized what was happening i just kinda felt my soul leave my body, lmao, like. my brain just completely froze as i watched him walk over to my section and he came closer, and then he touched my hand!!! and his smile is SO bright and perfect and he is so beautiful and he was so fucking happy, and i think i was just sobbing lmao. the people around me asked me if i was fine and i was NOT, i had to get out of the crowd after his set and just get some food and water and sit DOWN, because i could not believe that happened. any of that actually.

so, in conclusion it was unreal and i love him to death and him and jinho were the best singers at the festival, like i could've listened to them all day long. junmyeon is so pretty and cute and he introduced himself as sm's sexy guy suho ... god i hate him so much. i love him so much. it was perfect, 12/10, i even forgive him his beatles moment because he sounded like an angel when he sang let it be.

#ask #anon #shdhdhhdshh tbh i can't believe i saw him #but then again i also DO???? and like i keep staring at that picture of him right before he touched my hand #and it's insane

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perplexingluciddreams · 2 years

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so its been 2 weeks and somehow my brain thought it was 4-7days since you replied- my sorry , meant to respond sooner !

1) yes after my extensive research (read: my one google search “what are wire glasses”), can confirm that my glasses are wire glasses

2) saw about the seizures and that sounds super frustrating and scary :( glad you were able to use your wheelchair and that it seems to have lessened tho :),

also can relate to the sticky electrode wires they put on your scalp, used to get those once a week and they kept having to adjust them because my hands would pick at them unknowingly and stimming! 😅

what’s it like for you at the hospital? Since they are notoriously sensory hell even for an allistic person, and you seem to have to go often (reasonably ofc, just compared to people who can get 2 checkups a year and be good :0)

-🍋

P.S. my glasses and hair are similar to Mirabel from encanto, that may help visuallize it more . or glasses on my lemon 🍋 is perfectly reasonable to, wait just picture the 2 leaves and tiny lemon atop of Mirabel ,,, so many options :0 😂

That’s okay, time feels non-existent for me currently so I honestly hadn’t noticed how long it had been either. Especially in the last few days because of being in hospital and seizing constantly and whatnot.

Good to know, I love Mirabel’s glasses and hair so that makes you seem even more super cool in my mind!

I’m glad too. It seems like my body/brain had just had enough , and this was it’s (very scary) way of telling me. I’m finding it hard to process and put into words right now but I plan on writing a bit more about the connection between the seizures and everything else (like the catatonic freezing episodes, meltdowns, autism, etc.). Because it does feel connected. (Especially since I now know for sure that they are non-epileptic, which is at least reassuring to know that my brain is not being damaged with these “events” as they kept calling them at the hospital).

Yes, I still have the paste in my hair! Haven’t managed to wash it out yet, that’s a priority for today. It has mostly dried now and it feels a bit like there’s hair gel but only on certain parts of my head 😂. Very strange. They also had to adjust mine I think, I kept touching my head and then I would seize and one or two came off my head. And having it done feels a bit like a dream because I was so tired and “out of it” that everything seemed kind of fuzzy/blurry and unreal at the time. Now that I’m back home my memories of hospital are already feeling strange.

Hospital is horrible and hot and bright and loud. All the worst things. The A&E (accident and emergency, like the ER) department is the worst, children screaming and crying, bright lights, machines beeping. I felt like I was in a “meltdown mode” the whole time- and all of the overwhelm definitely made the seizures kick off and happen a LOT more. All I remember of A&E each time I visit, is the excruciating pain I feel every time I’m there, along with strange random snippets of things people said and being touched all over that I can almost still hear and feel.

Staying overnight was a new experience for me (as far as I remember, but I’m not sure if I can trust my memory on this), as was getting and ECG and an EEG (I’m pretty sure anyway, I might’ve had and ECG and forgotten, but definitely not an EEG). So it was incredibly overwhelming and I think my tendency to meltdown/shutdown was coming out in the form of the seizures and freezing episodes this time. I had some moments where I would start to feel a tiny bit more “lucid” and be on the edge of tears like I’m about to start melting down, then a seizure would come and replace that feeling with my whole body tensing, shaking, twisting, then freezing in the position I ended in.

Going to appointments is slightly different, still horrible but much less frantic than staying overnight or being in a room with a bed and having nurses coming in to do obs, etc. There is at least a routine to appointments and they are scheduled beforehand so I have time to prepare myself. It is still an awful experience every time, but I tend to come out of it slightly less traumatised than I feel at the moment from that unexpected, unplanned stay with lack of routine and anxiety all the way.

Lovely to hear from you as always, replying to this ask has made me feel a bit more normal and back to myself which is great:). There will be lots of swinging and stimming today to “fix” all the dysregulation from the hospital. I hope you have a good day!

#anon ask #🍋 anon #eeg #ecg #hospital #seizures #non epileptic seizures #psychogenic non epileptic seizures #tics #motor tics #vocal tics #neurology #psychiatry #autistic catatonia

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thesecretattic · 11 months

Text

DEATH NOTE

Kisiki do logo ki laash pe se apni “wannabe” Shaadi baraat nikaale simply cuz everyone else was marrying in Cov times. Shameless people Harsh and his FAKE lugaai she should read this and see how serious it is especially about Aditya Singh Rajput and his death and my death. More SHOCKING things about Harsh and what he said or did back then he turned the tables after that. Please read it entirely it’s VERY IMPORTANT.

“I was pretty too at 20-21 I was looking fair and cute without makeup in broad daylight BUT he ruined me”

I was struggling to breathe n I was breathing in bits I can’t walk even upto the bathroom my pressure was falling tremendously and my vision had turned WHITE and blurry I couldn’t see anything in the bathroom and I cud feel numb and lifeless and all the blood levels being sucked out of my brain I was cold inside it was chilly ice cold in my head I’m somehow writing this

Its VERY IMPORTANT pls read it I had to jot it down again ignore typos or lack of punctuation marks. Relying on autocorrect.

You all know that he Harsh Jayesh Rajput came first to me and the story has been going on since the past 8-10 years! All MY YOUTH I’m dyin-g a lip virgin or virgin today I was treated like an untouchable now no one will accept me in this age

NEXT you’ve seen the SHOCKING OBVIOUS signs along with all the markings in my previous posts (at least from June 2023 I’ve been sharing them since years now and there are more than 1000s of coincidences or signs since the past 10 years there’s not been a single day I haven’t received them) they all revolve around me and Harsh

Yet inspite of that since he himself came AND THEN STARTED ACTING ODD like OCD for no reason he wud like my pics on some dating app they had a Snapchat like feature he was already in my list and you could upload 24 hr selfies or posts he would religiously like them BUT not utter a single word, I have all the screenshots in my old laptop, he had also ASKED for my bb pin but he was not adding either and then he was talking to my fake ID which he knew was me he even taunted and left innuendos he was asking if I was single and sending kiss emojis even on day one he was sounding very happy but he was blocking the REAL ID and he was going on being ambivalent and bipolar he would come and then block.

I didn’t want to say all that, I can’t share much in detail my hands and feet are ice cold and I’ve cried a lot and I have fever too and my health condition was already critical since the past 3 days I’ve been struggling and hampering to breathe I can’t even walk up to the bathroom I told u what happened. That’s why I’ve been sleeping for hours throughout the day I’ve been up since 12 am today the whole night crying due to my mother’s torture and this issue.

IN 2019 I sent those gifts to make up for the book and because his fans would not send anything, Taher and Aneri wud always flaunt, I had stopped watching TV in 2015 itself and I’ve never heard his voice in real life, so I was NOT some fan he came first he was interested he was asking for the bb pin je was liking the photos he was sending kiss emojis FIRST and he was asking if I was single, he had used WORDS LIKE “DEAR AND DARLING” I still remember cuz I’m not used to this, someone using such terms of endearments for me, no one talks to me leave alone nicely. I know it’s cheesy but I have mixed feelings about it cuz it was him I thought it was safe.

I SENT those gifts to makeup for the book even thought I had not divulged anything about him in the book I have high fever n low pressure + shallow breathing I might just die after writing this post pls read I sent them across hoping I’ll find someone ELSE cuz he just went away without giving me a chance I have mentioned how he was luring me with the kisses and those other things go READ them had to say that, but then he SHOWED everyone that it was one sided and he humiliated me publicly in front of the world,

Since he was doing that I thought I’ll find someone else eventually and the gifts were just to makeup for the book which had nothing about him I wanted to make him happy cuz i loved him but I could only do it materialistically because he hated me now (due to unknown reasons) I was like he can take those things and be happy and I can love him from far or send him that love and I’ll find someone else but he took that opportunity again to humiliate me, he didn’t thank I had made those cards and everything on my own and wrapped those 14 gifts on an EMPTY stomach but he didn’t thank nor did he return them cuz of that OCD of direct contact which grew after 2015 even more, back then he allowed himself to talk to the fake ID or just like the pics and he was then using his engaged friend’s ID that too on the dating app HE CONNECTED with me there and added me on Instagram I had shared about it on my blog the article was - Biggest Revelation or something it has a HUGE shocking sign too. He had even read that (Harsh Jayesh Rajput) anyway his OCD grew so much that he became insensitive (go through all my posts from 2020 pandemic year IT WAS ON A VERY HEINOUS LEVEL) I’m dy-ing today after 8 years of total (bed) confinement because of him, and he neither thanked nor returned the gifts to avoid any contact (OCD) and he was sitting there making fun or god knows what. Like I said I was giving them to makeup for the book and I had already thought I’ll find someone else but He even took that opportunity to reject and humiliate me in front of my cruel mother and his friends and family and eventually on internet, he himself had sent kisses and called me all sorts of things (terms of endearment) he was religiously liking the pics he was vying for that bb pin and from behind he was showing everyone that I was chasing him.

The coincidences and signs continued and next he got worse during the pandemic year AFTER which I started writing about him to seek help or to wake him up.

HE received my messages on iMessage sat there SEEING OUR SIGNS AND MARKINGS until He changed them and now I see Aneri’s numbers which torture me there’s always 53 & 23 together (5 is him and 2 is me) it started as our marriage signs you’ll understand when you’ll read my previous posts but now I see 63 somewhere lurking around along with her birthdate. I’m done. He can have a threes-ome like he said (it was his fantasy) to that fake acc he can have that with that now porno Nida and Aneri she was wearing straps and what not on her thighs that Nida no pants just like Harsh if he’s so obsessed he can do that. I want a REAL love story and actual passion if at all not such FAKE ORGAS-MS it’s all forced when you force yourself too… otherwise you don’t need handcuffs or garters. It’s in fact tacky, real lovers just need each other after all that’s what it’s all about you don’t need ENTICEMENTS.

If they had what was the most important to me he meant the entire world I loved style even when he was poor and he would repeat clothes I loved him for the same attire even the 50th time, my name happened to be Zara for a reason like the brand I was born like that my grandmother named me she wasn’t even aware of the brand. I wud dress up like that since I was a toddler. But those cheap girls had his LEATHER JACKET and Ear Stud so now I don’t want him. I’m not a beggar enough of this! Or else I’ll change my gender. I’ve cried enough.

They had him at his best even when I loved him at his worst.

This is THE MOST IMPORTANT THING:

I LOVED HIM A LOT I NEVER STALKED HIM AFTER 2016 Feb n I had stopped watching tv in 2015 itself whatever I came across was accidentally through other people, anyway I HATED myself and I was feeling very hopeless but then I remembered that I loved him even when he was looking dark in his Photos back then in 2014-15 in fact that’s why I had chosen him because I wud stay away from people who were fair and white or rich. So I chose him cuz I thought he was like me (fair-golden-dark mixed) or darker I don’t exactly fall into that dusky category but I’m not white. I’m losing breath I can’t write I’m numb I’m dy-ing I’ll copy paste rest everything from an old post cuz I’ll be reiterating it anyway. BUT FIRST I have to write this down somehow - I told myself I hate how I am and I know no will ever accept me I’m an “untouchable virgin” I got a reality check on 5th mar regarding the extent to which anyone can hate and all the INSENSITIVITY he left me to die and so did others I was open to someone “new” I had decided to find another person I thought someone else will come along even while sending those gifts I WAS ENTIRELY RELIANT on somebody else (who just wasn’t there) because Harsh was not there for me either, I kept getting abused ruthlessly I was beaten up a day PRIOR to the gifts I couldn’t sleep on one side my neck and head were swollen and even my fingers and hands with purple marks in this fibromyalgia I was beaten to death and even told I should die, I already had fever and infection also back then but I got only beatings no rest was up all night no medicine and no food had to ear my antibiotics on empty stomach then 5th Mar happened and I realised how much I was HATED.

My CONVICTIONS grew after that and I realised why THERE WAS NO ONE he had not given me any chance either although he had come first sent kiss emojis religiously liked several pics throughout the month, asked if I was single asked for the bb pin somehow used his friend to fetch my Instagram acc and also called me Dear and Darling etc. etc. But inspite of that and tons of signs he hated me and I realised he probably had superficial shallow reasons to do that and so did everyone else SO I DECIDED FIGHT BACK cuz I knew I would die alone in this abusive house if I won’t.

I was pretty too at 20-21 I was looking fair and cute without makeup in broad daylight BUT he ruined me

I remembered that all these factors which make me feel hopeless now after he has spoilt my looks were the same things I OVERLOOKED he was 7 years older than me and I was 20 back so it’s not like he didn’t have bad days, I said I hate myself but I loved him even when I saw his feet in the pic they were looking Dark Brown Sindbad promotional event when i last stalked in 2016 Feb I still loved him and told myself you can’t even imagine hating someone’s tired feet white or black, especially him I loved him blindly and dearly. And in other pics he was looking dark extremely dark so I thought he looked like that naturally otherwise I wud distance myself from fair or rich ppl NEVER even now, is a NO so I didn’t hate him in fact I loved him but I’m hopeless, then I was thinking about weight gain due to my sedentary life HE GOT ME BED RIDDEN otherwise I was 30 kgs due to stress in 2019, but I had a muscular physique (naturally) so I was broader and taller than Aneri not that petite otherwise she will read this and tell everyone I was rejectable she got a love bite I’m an untouchable virgin till now and she will tell everyone I deserved it, no I was broader and slightly taller too due to my bone structure (long hands and legs) they would tell me I should become a model when I was in my teens

He ruined that also, but I saw a sign which reminded me of something related to him so it wasn’t just his dark feet or complexion I had also seen his double chin in 2014-15 and puffy face and pimples too and I still loved him dearly. And when I was talking about “tond” Hindi word which another girl had mentioned cuz she was conscious about it I remembered THAT IN HIS BIRTHDAY pic he had that also! When I last saw in 2016 and I still loved and respected him inspite of that TOND I would’ve never left him and been around forever and ever I loved him that much

and I was punished for it.

He was poor too I still loved him. I was okay with 1% of looks and 99% ugliness or whatever poor financial status poor grammar etc. the complexion the tond the double chin the repeat clothes everything I had to share that cuz I want other girls to understand that you are NOT a loser if you feel conscious about the same things. I liked him irrespective of that and I didn’t want anyone else but him. Unfortunately he wasn’t like that and he turned out completely different and wrong I told God if he would’ve sent someone who was actually like that (full of flaws) he wouldn’t have done this. He is very proud of himself. I cried a lot even while arguing with God.

I was okay with 1% looks like I said but I didn’t want someone who was scary, boring, dull, random or creepy. I am from Gen Z he’s a millennial his parents are boomers mine are Gen X so obvs I wanted someone who would speak my language and keep up with my pace, someone of my caliber who would fathom what I’m saying but I was FORCED to talk to illiterate ppl who were adding me as “secret admirers” random creepy salacious pervs from Bhopal and all they would not understand a single word in English totally incoherent and uneducated ppl all uncouth from some village area, they weee creepy ugly not even those 1% looks scary NO STYLE even if he repeating his clothes it was different this man was nowhere like him I’m from a metropolitan city from the newer generation NO ONE WILL ACCEPT OR TOLERATE THIS NONSENSE! That perv ewww his eyes were demonic as if he wud wear Kajal (kohl) and he was very lecherous and all yucks full por-nhead I didn’t deserve that! He couldn’t even say “What’s up?” No youthfulness I wanted someone of my level like Harsh but he was chasing ppl out of his league.

And here’s the BIGGEST thing which haunts me and makes me cry day and night, whenever he wud block I wud black out and get a hammering headache and my heart wud stop too after that I got that destabilising “cluster headache” issue and fibromyalgia due to constant torture he kept blocking and liking sporadically FOR NO REASON but he was trying to lure and humiliate me and show me - this is the main part due to which I can’t live and I cry, he was trying to prove that I’m my worst nightmare I’m a “creep” like that Bhopali perv and I deserve to get married or rapd by one. It’s the same thing if girls aren’t attracted (moreover he’s illiterate n pervy and he doesn’t even understand any English or anything to talk in common he won’t understand my ideas he’s to salacious anyway) ITS NOT “double standards you misogynists” there’s a scientific réason which I HAD ALREADY DEFIED for his wrinkles, his advanced age, his double chin, his complexion which was there in the photos his Tond (that Hindi word) his horrible haircut, and all those erroneous pics which made me believe he was ugly in real life and natural lighting only 1% looks where 0.5% was style and personality, AND I STILL LOVED HIM

I defied that scientific logic for him cuz I loved him.

I can’t get rapd by someone who doesn’t even have that 1 or 0.5% you want to read that tond part again? If we aren’t attracted then we aroused and then we are not lubricated either and then it’s forced entry which is r-ape. Lubricators don’t work so many girls have complained and why shud I?

I was molested when I was in KG as a toddler that’s how our life is in India and I shud let someone like that creep touch me? Forget lubrication!

He showed me that I’m my worst nightmare and I deserve that.

That Bhopali and another Bihari guy TOOK ADVANTAGE OF HIM (didn’t want to get communal not all Biharis are such but ppl are sick of each other in their own culture even in our religion I don’t want to get married to Dadi-walas bearded men cuz they keep 2-3 wives illegally another girl was complaining about it that too in Hijab don’t underestimate Muslim girls) so they took advantage of that and created an ID called Harsh last year to write something in their horrible grammar/English and then as a backup plan block me to torture me more as Harsh this time he wasn’t him it was a fake ID but he blocked too and made Preet block me too after I sent those LINKS with signs cuz he hates them and he doesn’t want to see them I sent them again from my laptop’s iMessage. He turned a blind until he managed to get Aneri’s signs too (the DEVIL shows her numbers) I had seen Zara Rajput NOT just numbers like her’s and I had also seen several ZH here and there and even SHARED all those shocking screenshots all across social media, with all the relevant markings and stuff. Our names had again come up with 53-23 marriage signs and all this has happened many times before, even our birthdates but he will not even look at them

I wanted a platonic relationship but then some fortune telling site LITERALLY SHOWED ME this - I wasn’t expecting that it had my words which I never VOICED

I would say in my head that I don’t want to ruin anyone’s life I don’t like “INJUSTICE” even though scientifically it pains girls not men if they aren’t attracted to anyone, but I opted to be the nail instead of the hammer cuz I don’t want to be my worst nightmare like he showed, so that was however the Injustice part I like fairness and I didn’t want injustice for anymore so I came up with platonic which meant love and care but no intimacy, but I knew that the other person might not care if he’s not ready to (fully) accept me in a complete relationship like I overlooked Harsh and all those things if it’s not like that then I can’t expect much concern either.

The site said “Going through the hardest things ever, unimaginable struggles and pain but Giving Blind JUSTICE to others and ignoring the natural and immediate need for care, love and intimacy.” It’s as they read my platonic idea or mind :/

I jotted it down so that I can be more comfortable in a platonic relationship but I didn’t want to budge from that. Or else I wanted you o be just house mates. I was cute and fair once and his pics too had only that 1% looks and I loved him but things changed and he left me behind. And even ruined me.

He is making me feel like I’m my worst nightmare you know how or why you’ve read enough I can’t keep typing you know he’s still DOING THAT he knows about the ring too and those signs and the Devil’s involvement BE KEPT TURNING A BLIND EYE until his Friend DIED and how shameless he’s still doing that.

Fetch Diana’s post she was afraid of car accidents and the devil made sure her car would run into the 13th pillar and there were more numbers which I can’t even take here which I saw in Harsh’s case cuz he was HELPING THE DEVIL in surfacing me my worst fears and nightmares, inspite of OUR MARRIAGE signs he got married and it still kills le I wasn’t ready to stalk him so the Devil Killed Aditya Singh Rajput like Diana to show me Harsh’s ring. He knew my fear of rings EVEN IN INDIA where it’s highly uncommon, they exchange rings there but I was afraid of spotting a gold ring on his ring finger which I eventually saw at the funeral.

He was insensitive to me and he left me to did but that new fake wife had him wrapped around her finger in no time he was putting reels with Jiya hardly in Oct last year I saw due to an accidental click on a fanclub ID and within a few months that new woman GOT HIM LAID that too forever. He didn’t throw the ring. I’m dyi-ng after this I just wanted to share this whole culminated note to describe everything for one last time but his love for her and insensitivity towards me is killing me that too for no reason - Zara Sauleh Bye you’ll never see more signs again I’m dy-ing forever. He was the worst man I had ever met after my mother I’m dyin-g that virgin and it’s okay ur fake wife must be used to this, she’s that creep you were showing me she’s SHAMELESS and opportunistic that that Bhopali to take advantage and come and sleep with someone else’s LOVE I’m not you’ve read enough.

Zara Sauleh

Additional notes copy pasted after which I’ll die a silent death:

Aneri was white like Mohsin and Aaditya Kapadia and Srman Harsh was never that fair, Aaditya however is married a girl who’s dusky and darker than me, and Srman too was seen with the darkest girl possible way more darker than me… it was some random sketchy girl though anyway Harsh is the only one chasing someone whiter. And HE TURNED OUT TO BE MY WORST NIGHTMARE

For girls it’s not easy to look good, we lose a lot of haemoglobin count during periods, speaking of pms this is why it’s easier for men to look better - we get PMS symptoms for almost 20 days they start before our period at times even 11-12 days prior and last all the way for another 10 days and then Ovulation, during both the times we are in pain even during the latter and our skin breaks out, our hair is frizzier, we get bloating not only in the stomach but also in the face, fingers and legs… so if we’ll match our looks we are going to end up with someone who’s dumb average minded and it’s riskier because as “men” they aren’t safe they don’t have noble intentions, these same people who wouldn’t have anything to talk about will only think of fcking and it hurts girls not men if we aren’t turned on or aroused, none of us is in interested in their body girls have assets to turn men on men have nothing, except for the face and some even have a very feminine physique even though women are more likely to gain weight (again due to science and comparatively a slower metabolism) so they literally have nothing and if we aren’t aroused then we aren’t lubricated (girls have already said lubricators don’t work) when we aren’t lubricated it’s a FORCED ENTRY ITS RAPE I mean clearly we are not even interested… then they don’t match our mentality thoughts or caliber eww. In India the problem is men are chasing girls who are out of their league they all want someone one notch higher when the fact is it’s easier for them to look good unlike us who face pms and ovulation (read that again) for 30 days that’s almost a month so it should have been the other way round.

0 notes

arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

Text

Graveyard Siblings (4)

I am sorry for not posting in a while. School is a total bitch. Here is part 4 of a fic that is not a fic.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)

-------

Tall Marinette.(I admit I might be projecting a little here.)

One day, she took out something from someplace high and the whole family realized that ‘holy shit when did you get so tall?’

Bonus if Jason comes back from a long mission and had a wtf moment because she was wearing 6-inch-heels and met his eyes with them on.

“Pixie?!”

------

You know how Bruce has the identity of Matches Malone to infiltrate the Gotham Underground.

While Jason does the drug deals more street crime stuff, Maria uses an excuse of being the representative for Red Hood excuse to mingle with the rich people who does crime on the side (Penguin), she uses it to go to black market auctions and buy some of the lost miraculouses which got into the hands of black market dealers.

Jason knows about it and acts as her ‘bodyguard’ anytime he can or sends one of his henchmen to be one with a death threat if she gets a single scratch on her.

Bruce is unaware of this. Or is he?

------

Mari helps with running WE since she is a little less busy with the vigilante side of things.

It started with Tim panicking about deadlines and Mari offering to help, to Bruce and Tim bullying the board to have her as co-CEO.

She has to be that and head of Afterlife. So she is very busy. Doesn’t know about what comes next….

------

Somehow the class comes to Gotham for a trip. It has been 3 years since her death.

Mari has changed her appearance since the day she left Paris. She has highlights in her hair after a ‘sibling bonding day’ with Jason. Her hair is kept short for convenience and not in pigtails. Along with her tall height and more confident aura, she is almost unrecognizable.

She rides a motorcycle too.

The class waits in the lobby for the tour and in walks this badass woman with aviator sunglasses, leather jacket and designer clothes which was all MT brand, making a lot of people swoon.

She takes off her glasses and walks past the class. Checking stuff on her phone and sipping coffee in her other hand.

She seems familiar but they couldn’t figure out why. (All except Chloe, Alix and Felix who are snickering in the background.)

Lila sees her and comments on how she must be a criminal with the way she dresses. (Lila internally freaks out because were her eyes messing with her? Because she looked a little like Marinette. Also jealous of the new arrival for stealing all the attention.) Alya takes the bait and calls security to ‘arrest’ her.

They just laugh. The class doesn’t understand, speaking in confused French.

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

“I am Maria Todd-Wayne, also known as designer MT. CEO of Afterlife and co-CEO of the very company you are in. I am allowed in here. Don’t judge a book by its cover.” she said in perfect French.

“But Lila told us you can’t speak French.”

“Who?”

“Lila Rossi, your friend. She told us that you and MT were dating.”

“Me dating myself. Okay I love myself because self-love is a thing but that is a whole other level. MT are my initials. Anyone who has a brain could have figured that out or at the very least do a Google search. I am not sure where your friend got that notion.”

“Hey, Bean, come on. We have a long day ahead of us.” Tim reminded her.

“Goodbye but cease the rumours or you would be escorted off the premises.”

As they rode up the elevator, “Tim, why are they here?”

“They are the lucky winners of the Wayne Enterprise Young Prodigies Contest. Why, Maria?”

“Lucky, huh.” She muttered under her breath. She might as well tell him. They are the Bats and they will find out anyway. “They are from my old class, the one you know…”

“Oh. Want me to send them back? I can do that if they are making you uncomfortable.”

“Nah. Too much to deal with. And it is unfair to send them back over a petty grudge. Besides, I could have some fun.”

“Anything that Bruce and I should be worried about?”

“I swear no killing. Just because Jason came back from the dead, hell-bent on killing. Doesn’t mean I am too.”

“Cool, just don’t do any property damage or traumatize our employees.”

“I might need you to erase some footage later and tell Bruce about this.”

“Some brownies, my favourite coffee cake, the ‘special’ brew and you have yourself a deal.”

-----

So basically she just showed up around where the class was ‘by coincidence’.

Talk to a few people and take them out of earshot of the rest of the class.

End the conversation by saying a few things only they and her would know. Insides jokes and secrets. (I pick her old childhood friends like, Nino, Kim and maybe Sabrina)

Uses Trixx to turn into a walking dead version of her 15-year old self and disappears as they freak out about how she knew that secret/story.

Freaks them out further by appearing again in front of the whole class and pretending not to know their previous conversation.

Mari manages to get Lila alone.

I should also say that Lila thought that her curse was making her see MT as Marinette.

It terrifies Lila when she finds out that MT is actually Marinette, not dead but alive after all this time and apparently living the high life she wanted. This fact made the Italian swell up with jealousy.

“I hope you are not lying about me again, Lila Rossi. Like you always do.”

“What do you want with me? I swear I didn’t say anything else about you.”

“Aw, Lila. Don’t recognize me?”

Maria flickers and Ladybug is in her place and later, the Marinette that appeared in her bedroom and back to normal.

“You! How? Why are you here? Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Why not? I mean you did take away nearly all my friends, my parents and made my life a living hell. If you think about it, I am just repaying you the same favor. How are the others? Treating you well?”

“What did you do to me, you bitch?”

“I just put a curse on you. The ghosts of your past will haunt you until you stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop Lying, Liar. They all feed and grow in power from your lies. I wonder what would happen in a few years if you kept this up.”

“You think you can get away with this. This is war and I have already beaten you once.”

“Oh Rossi. This isn’t a war. It’s a death sentence.” With that she disappears.

Lila tries to tell her class that MT is actually Marinette. She is met with crazy looks. Some of them look like they want to believe her but don't because they don’t want to look crazy too.

Oh. Adrien wasn’t on the trip because his mother didn’t want him to go to the crime capital of America although the crime rate has gone down a little due to Hellbat curing some of the city’s bad energy..

Right after Lila told the class about MT, Scarecrow came to steal some Wayne tech and the class got caught in the crossfire. So later, it was brushed off as Lila seeing things due to the fear toxins.

-----

Joker made the mistake of kidnapping her. Once was enough to never try that again.

(It involved the use of nearly all of the Miraculouses, old and new. He was thoroughly humiliated at the end of it and his picture by the time Hellbat was done with him was on the Batfam’s Christmas Card. Like I said she doesn’t kill but making them beg for death was okay.)

It coincided with Jason’s Birthday and the video of the incident was ‘the best birthday present ever.’ The uncensored version was watched at the next undead siblings bonding day. Damian included.

After hearing a few rumours about what happened, most criminals were glad for Hellbat’s rare appearances. (which happens once a month and during really busy time of the year)

There was a time where Penguin was carrying out one of their plans and when Hellbat showed up, all of their thugs surrendered instantly. (No Batman did not pout at the fact that this French girl was more imitating than him.)

Scarecrow used his newest batch of fear toxin on her during the first year after she died.

He was astounded to see her still standing and she later proceeded to beat the crap out of him while being under the toxin’s influences.

He has tried to stay out of her way since then.

She saw Scarecrow as Hawkmoth and said a lot of things in French which scared everyone because she said it with so much hate, anger and in a very menacing tone that everyone is like ‘I am not touching this.’

It took Red Hood and Nightwing to restrain her from further beating Scarecrow up.

He was one of the people who sympathised with the Joker after the Incident.

The next was Riddler being so arrogant in his plans and managed to get Hellbat and Spoiler into a death trap.

“You know I have a few regrets in life. And my final one is that I got captured and am now going to get killed by a walking fashion disaster.”

“Hey! I made this myself. I will have, you know.”

“You have a brilliant mind but no sense of fashion at all. When I get out of here, I am going to burn that thing with you in it, for your crimes against fashion.”

“What is wrong with it?”

Cue a lot of roasting of Riddler’s costume and Spoiler adding more fuel to the fire.

They manage to escape while Riddler is crying on the floor, having an existential crisis.

The thing was no one knows why Riddler was silent the entire week after encountering Hellbat and crying when anyone mentions it.

They now think Hellbat is the scariest one in the Batfamily, second to Batman and tied with Black Bat/Orphan.

The few who find out what really happened in the warehouse that night. Blackmail material on the Riddler.

Three ( four if you count Penguin) of Gotham’s biggest villains of the Rogues Gallery scared of Bats’ newest addition. Hellbat was not someone they wanted to mess with.

---------

Magic crisis stuff. Like a world ending event thing. Dr. Fate says they need the Miraculous jewels but the last mention of them had been in Paris a few years ago and had vanished since then.

Costantine looked at Batman. “You know who you have to call.”

Batman calls Hellbat. Who hasn’t been introduced yet to the JL.

“Ah. Bats. Not that I question your authority or anything but how can your newest ‘ward’ help us?”

She takes off her helmet and reveals her face and more importantly, her earrings.

Tikki comes out of her hiding place.

“I am the current Guardian of the Miracle Box and wielder of the Ladybug miraculous during Hawkmoth’s reign in Paris a few years ago. Any other Questions?”

“Oh great Guardian. Tikki. It is an honour to meet you.”-Wonder Woman, who else.

“You too, Princess Diana. Pass on my regards to your mother.”-Tikki

A huge face-off and the big evil is defeated.

WW asks abt HM and gives a horrified face at the end of her story. Nearly everyone who eavesdropped on the conversation was.

"Forgive me, Guardian for not aiding you in your hour of need.”

“It’s okay. I understand that there are other crises, world-ending ones that JL have to take care of. I am better now. Mostly.”

“I doubt it with those revenge schemes I found lying around. But she is getting there with her therapist.”-Batman

“I hate you, Dad.”

“Did you just call him Dad?”

“No….”

“Do you see me as a father figure?”

“I see you as a nuisance with how nosy you are with my personal business. So you are more of a bother figure.”

“I see you as part of the family too, Daughter.” (Got that reference anyone?)

“Jason was the one who adopted me.”

“Legally you are adopted by me.”

Maria with Pikachu surprised face because nobody told her that. “My life is a lie.”

-------

(Part 5)

#graveyard sibling #platonic jasonette #maribat #mlb x dc #platonic daminette #platonic timinette #some class salt #lila salt #lila bashing #joker doesn't look good here either #platonic! jasonette #siblings jasonette #platonic timminette #marinette and stephanie teaming up to rip into Riddler's costume

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wonderwomanfantasy · 3 years

Text

Stress relief

mind your bisnuess I’m working through some shit

Atsumu x reader

warnings: smut, just- so much smut, Oral, car sex, fingering, Daddy kink, degradation, marking, ass play, dirty talk,Brat taming, slut shaming AND virgin shaming (we got it all folks), hair pulling, cum play, creampie, breading kink, drinking/ Drunk sex, angst annnnnd swearing.

word count: 4,800 (about) (yes really get off my back)

summary: Atsumu is a dick, but he’s got a good dick at least you have no idea how mad I am I’ve already used the title Enemy with Benifits.

“Are- Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked, Atsumu just shrugged.

“No, I’m not fucking kidding you what’s your deal?” he said casually. You took a deep breath. You had been trying to work on your anger issues, Not blowing up on people over nothing. But this really felt like something worth blowing up over.

“Myia, be honest with me, do you think I’m stupid?” you asked. He smirked.

“I think you’re a lot of things babe-” you stood up getting in his face jabbing your finger in his chest cutting off his no doubt horrendous flirting.

“You fucking ripped off you’re entire part of the project! How the fuck did you think no one would notice?” you shouted. You had known this was going to be a train wreck the moment Atsumu was assigned as your partner. He was such a fucking moron, he’d only gotten into this College because of his sports scholarship. You would have been better working on your own.

“I cited the article I copied, what's the deal?” he snapped, the volume of your voice irking him.

“That’s not how this fucking works you can’t just hit copy-paste and call it a day the point is you come up with your own ideas, although in your defense I’m not sure you’re brain could manage something like that,” you shouted. He sneared.

“I’ll rewrite it just stop being a bitch alright?” he scoffed, turning to leave your dorm room. You wanted to hit him, how dare he call you a bitch when you were just looking out for his dumb ass. Even high schoolers knew you’d be expelled for plagiarising. Once Atsumu left you slumped back in your seat looking at the presentation open on your laptop. You were already so busy but somehow you’d have to find enough time to do half of the project unless you wanted to fail that was.

“Hey, you’re working with (y/n) on your project right?” Osamu asked, setting his volleyball up in the air over and over again.

“Yeah, they totally blew up on me today so now I gotta redo the whole thing,” Atsumu sighed

“They’re hot though,” his brother said. Atsumu smiled to himself, remembering your angry face as you chewed him out.

“Really hot,” he agreed.

“Are you gonna fuck them?”

“Of course, they might an asshole but they want me,”

“Hey (y/n),” you looked up at the sound of your name only to groan seeing Atsumu run towards you. He had clearly just come from practice, he was still in his jersey. Fucking jocks.

He probably thought he looked hot, with a light sheen of sweat that made his skin glow and tousled hair. He did look hot, it made you want to kick his shins.

“If you aren’t going to tell me that you finished your half of the presentation I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped.

“Well then you aren’t going to be happy then but there’s a game this weekend, you should come, cheer for me,” he said winking. You rolled your eyes.

“I was already planning on going, but you’re nuts if you think I’m gonna cheer for you,” you snapped, still a little heated about your last encounter with him.

“And why not?” he asked, smirking, it pissed you off. You just knew he thought he looked so cute smiling at you like that.

“I cheer for winners,”

You and Atsumu were at each other’s throats for the rest of the year. Atsumu Gave up on his plan to sleep with you and you gave up on your anger management, at least around him. If other people were in this situation they might stay away from their sworn enemy, but not you two.

You made it to every volleyball game just to tell Osamu how great he did and how handsome he was looking today. Atsumu sat next to you in every class you shared talking your ear off making sure that you didn’t learn a damn thing.

It was annoying as hell, you wanted to strangle him, but it was nice in a kind of way. If you were stressed or pissed off you could drag Atsumu as a little fun. And even if nothing else in your life was going right. You could always count on this blonde dick to be the worst to you.

“Damn we had the exterminator here last week but there’s a roach right here,” Atsumu sneered over the thumping music at the party. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“You need to look up more insults you’ve already used that one,” you barked back, normally seeing Atsumu would be enough to dampen your mood but the booze must have been doing its job because you still felt all light and buzzed.

“Beer?” he asked, holding up a bottle for you, ever the gracious host.

“I’m good,” you said holding up the can of seltzer you’d been drinking out of it was fruity and only had a little bite to it, you were already on your third one.

“Right I forgot that a baby like you couldn’t handle the taste of beer,” he scoffed, he was closer now, towering over you and pressing one of his forearms to the wall by your head as he leaned over you, shielding you from the rest of the party. You never realized before how big he was. Tall and wide. Muscular too, it was no wonder half the people at the Volleyball games creamed themselves just seeing him.

“You’re such a dick, why do you always have to be so mean?” you asked before even realizing the words that you’d spoken.

“You aren’t exactly nice either princess, besides that’s how this works, that’s our dynamic,” he said. He must be pretty drunk too. Nothing he was saying was making any sense.

“Still, how do you expect anyone to put up with you when you’re such a douche bag all the time?” you said the anger you associated with Atsumu finally setting in.

“If it works it works, I mean you’re obsessed with me,” he said. You gagged and shoved his chest, he didn’t move, god how strong was he?

“Fuck off I hate you, why would I be obsessed with you? God you think that the world fucking revolves around you. How could any-”

His lips met yours effectively shutting you up. His hand came up cupping the back of your head and you couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, pressing your body against his and dropping your drink so your hands would be free to rake through his hair. You weren’t nice about the kiss either, your teeth gnashed against his when he tried to push his tongue into your mouth. You bit his lower lip and tugged at his hair, moaning against his mouth when he did the same to you.

He broke away breathlessly, still holding you close to his body while you caught your breath. He was so pretty his cheeks flushed his lips wet and glossy. God, you wanted to kiss him again, even if he tasted like beer and he had been right in his assessment that you weren’t a big fan of the taste.

“Good to know theirs one way to shut you the fuck up,” he teased. You groaned in frustration pulling him back down into another kiss. This one was just as passionate and fierce as the first. He pushed you against the wall and pulled up one of your legs and forced it around his waist so he could grind against you. You shuddered feeling him rut the seam of your jeans against your clit.

“Woulda fucked you a lot sooner if i'd known you made such pretty noises when you were touched,” he muttered reaching up and palming your breast through your shirt. Atsumu started kissing, or maybe biting was a better word. The top part of your neck even pays some attention to your jaw and earlobe while he humped and groped you.

“I knew you were a pervert but I never knew you were filthy enough to fuck me out in the open like this,” you gasped, tugging at his hair. You could feel your panties get sticky with your arousal and you wanted him to take you out of here and fuck you already.

“You’re gonna let me fuck you?” he asked, pulling back so he could look at you and smirk. You smiled back, the fight wasn’t out of you yet.

“Why would I do that? I’d rather sleep with someone who could make me cum,” you spat and his grin quickly fell, there was a competitive fire in his eyes that you normally only saw when he was playing.

“Oh Daddy’s gonna make you cum you fucking brat, I’ll make you squirt, you’re gonna cry with how good my dick feels,” he growled in a low voice you’d never heard before and suddenly you were regretting your comment.

“Daddy?” you snorted

Atsumu detangled himself from you and grabbed you by the wrist tugging you out of the frat house and to his car. You shook your head and broke free of his iron-clad grasp.

“I know you’re stupid but this is a new low, both of us are way too drunk to drive,” you shouted. Atsumu just laughed at you, opening the back door to his car.

“We aren’t driving dumbass now get in,” he said. You bit your lip and slid into the back seat shortly followed by Atsumu who locked the door behind him.

The seat wasn’t large but it was big enough to move around in. He pressed you onto the leather upholstery, your legs bent and splayed out at an awkward angle to fit him between them. He went back to kissing you sloppily while his hands went to work taking off your shirt and bra.

Your nipples hardened once the cold night air touched you. “Wanted to suck on your pretty tits for the longest time,” he groaned quickly lowering his head, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth while he fingered the other twisting and pinching it. You yelped when his teeth grazed over the bud. His eyes flicked up to yours and he let go of the spit-soaked nipple blowing on it lightly making you shiver.

“How long has it been since you’ve been fucked huh? So many guys want to fuck this sweet little pussy but you’re too stuck up to let that happen.” he snears sucking the other nipple into his mouth.

“Bet you’re still a fucking virgin,” he said speaking around your mouth.

“ I a-am not,” you whined, you’d lost your virginity in high school, but you really hadn’t gotten fucked since then.

“Oh listen to you whine you totally are,” he scoffed

“No I’m Not!” you protested he let go of your nipple and kissed you again threading his fingers through your hair and pressing your face to his.

“Shut up you fucking virgin,” he said sweetly, before pulling off his shirt, and before you could admire his chiseled chest he distracted you by biting your neck again. You pressed your hand to the center console to keep from slipping off with one hand and clinging to his shoulders with the other.

Atsumu deftly unbuttoned your jeans and shoved his hands in your pants touching your through your soaked underwear. You felt him smirk against your neck but he didn’t make any remark about it. Good thing for him too because you could feel his hard prick pressing up against your thigh and you were ready to drag him for it if he commented on your own arousal.

God, you could feel his cock. It was big, heavy, and hard, pressed against your leg. You wanted to see it, touch it, feel it inside of you. He’d pushed your panties to the side now so he could push his large fingers inside brushing against your velvet walls.

“A-Atsumu,” you said, pitching your leg up to rub against his dick. “I want to suck your cock,” you whimpered. You felt him twitch.

“Here I thought you were a virgin but you’re just a slutty whore aren't cha?” he growled against your neck picking your hips up and yanking your pants down your legs leaving them pooled around your ankles leaving you to kick your jeans off completely. You felt a little stupid naked except for your shoes but Atsumu quickly distracted you by folding you in half pressing your knees to your chest and leaving your pussy completely exposed.

“I’ll fuck your throat later, right now I gotta make you cum remember?” he said playing his hands over your thighs keeping g you folded before lowering his head and diving into your folds like a man starved.

Just like he kissed you, he was mean about it, sucking so harshly that you cried out and spanking your cunt just to make you jump. The only time he pulled back was to spit on your asshole lubing it up enough to slip a finger inside.

“Sumu please,” you cried out as he filled you with his tongue pressing against your G-spot over and over again while he pinched your clit. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. He just hummed in acknowledgment, whatever you were begging for he wasn’t going to have it.

“Daddy,” you pleaded, finally caving. Atsumu smiled to himself. He wasn’t nice but he did reward good behavior.

He switched it up sucking your clit into your mouth and plunging the fingers of his clean hand, the one that hadn’t just been your ass, inside of you curling up and pressing against your g-pot over and over again until you came screaming so loud that you were sure people back at the house could hear you.

“See didn’t that feel good slut?” he cooed condescendingly. There was a pool of cum beneath you soaking into the leather seats. Good thing this was Osamus’s car. Now all he had to do was make you cry.

“I-I’m not a slut,” you whined.

“Oh? Which is it? Are you not a virgin or are you not a slut?” he asked, squeezing your cheeks. You didn’t know how to respond.

“Well I think you’re a slut, Daddy’s little slut,” he snapped.

There was a dark stain of precum staining his jeans where the head of his cock was leaking he quickly shoved down his pants and boxers before sitting down and pulling you into his lap. You hovered above him as he pumped his cock in his hand running the head of his cock through your soaked folds and bumping your clit.

“You’re gonna be a good whore and ride Daddy’s cock right?” he asked, lining the head of his dick up with your entrance. You bit your lip and nodded, shakily lowering yourself down on him. Atsumu hissed feeling your tight heat wrap around him.

You gripped his shoulders feeling how well he filled you up, the tip pressing against your cervix. You took a minute to adjust before lifting yourself up on your knees and started to fuck yourself onto him.

Atsumu brought you close and kissed you again, one of his hands slipping between your bodies to stroke your clit while you bounced up and down on his cock. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he touched you. He filled you up so well, you had teased him about not being able to get you off but even you couldn’t deny how good it felt to have him so deep inside of you.

“You feel that baby? You feel Daddy pressing up against your Cervix, I’m going to blow my fat load right into your slutty little womb,” he snarled his hips snapping up to meet yours. You whined, throwing your head back in pleasure, almost hitting your head on the headrest.

“Gonna knock you up, gonna stuff this slutty pussy with cum,” he growled, he was talking more to himself but you couldn’t help but shudder at his words. You were on birth control but you desperately wanted him to fill you up.

“Are you gonna cum princess?” He asked, “I can feel your cunt squeezing my cock like that, you’re gonna cum.” He was right, you could feel a second orgasm welling up in your core as his cock pulsed inside of you.

“Atsumu-Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned kissing him sloppily, your hips faltered when you came but Atsumu’s hands went to your hips moving your body for you as he chased his own high, true to his word he came deep inside of you filling you up and pressing his cock against your cervix.

You collapsed against his chest gasping for breath. He ran his hand soothingly over your back.

“You look tired, you wanna crash somewhere babe?” he asked.

“We’re still too drunk to drive,” you murmured.

“I have a buddy in the frat house, I’m sure he’ll let me steal his bed for the night, especially for a cutie like you,” he said. You pulled back to look at him.

“You had a bed here this whole time and you still made me fuck you in the car?”

When you woke up your whole body hurt. Your head ached your eyes stung and your body was littered with bruises. You didn’t even want to check in with the lower half of your body. You groaned sitting up in bed clutching your head. Then you felt the bed beside you shift, you froze remembering how you’d ended last night.

Atsumu cracked one eye open and his face split into a huge grin. “I had the best dream last night-” he teased you and moved to hit him but he caught your wrist and flipped you on your back pinning you to the bed.

He hovered above you his breath hitting your face in soft puffs. You leaned up and kissed him, suddenly you were a mess of limbs and hands trying to tear each other’s clothes off while you kissed. You hissed as his fingers grazed the bite marks on your neck.

“Go easy on me I’m still sore,” you complained. Atsumu smirked.

“Did I wreck you that badly baby?” he asked, teasingly grinding his morning wood on your leg. You shuddered.

“Shut up and fuck me asshole,” you demand. He tugged off your underwear and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

“As you wish your majesty,” he scoffed and slowly pushed two of his fingers into you

Your cunt ached and it hurt to feel his fingers prod you open, but soon the pain dissolved into pleasure as he continued to finger you.

“Such a pretty wet little cunt, so wet and sticky for me,” he purred, “you like this slut? You like getting fingered first thing in the morning?” he asked.

“Do you like humping my ass like a fucking dog first thing in the morning?” you spat back. He grunted and roughly jerked his finger up hitting your G-spot making you cry out your back arching off the bed.

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffed before completely pulling his fingers out and sticking them into his mouth sucking on your juices.

“I’m not gonna fuck you if you keep being mean,” he said shoving down his own clothes

“Shut up, I bet I’m the only one you know who lets you get your dick wet,” you growled. He snapped into you in one swift motion. You cried out your nails digging into his shoulders. It hurt but the pain sent a rush of endorphins making you moan.

“Really you think that I could fuck you like this without any practice dollface? Don’t forget you’re the virgin here,” he teased drawing his hips back before ramming back into you. This pace was much harsher than what you’d set last night. You were helpless, and entirely at his mercy, he had you folded in half, and you could only moan and scratch at his back.

“Imna fill this cunt with cum, nothing better than emptying my balls in your warm cunt first thing in the morning,” he muttered to himself as he continued to fuck you.

“Already?” you teased.

“Fuck off or I’ll fuck you until you pass out,” he threatened.

“Hurry up and make me cum, I’ve got shit to do today,” you snapped.

“God do you ever stop being a bitch?” he asked, pulling out of you and flipping you over, jerking your hips up and sliding back into you. you moaned feeling his cock hit new sweet spots. You arched your back pressing your hips to his and burying your face into the pillows.

The bed creaked with the force of his thrusts, the headboard hitting the wall with a loud bang. Atsumu brought his hand down on your ass making you jump, it stung and you were reminded of his killer serves that you had seen so many times.

“There, no more bitchy comebacks? Have you gone braindead on my cock?” he mocked spanking you again.

“Daddy!” you pleaded. Your thighs trembling as wetness dripped down your legs.

“Awe theirs my sweet little slut, ready to be good now?”

“Y-yes,” you whined desperate to cum. Atsumu grunted and finally went easy on you, rubbing your clit and easing into you in slow, deep thrusts until he felt your pussy cream around him.

“There you go baby,” he said pulling out of you, his hard cock dripping in your juices. “You still want to suck on my cock?” he asked. You bit your lower lip, embarrassed at the memory. You shifted on the bed settling in between his legs taking the head of his cock into your mouth and wrapping your hands around the rest of his dick.

You licked softly at the slit in the head picking up the bitter precum with your tongue. You slowly took more of his cock in your mouth hollowing your cheeks out around him. His dick was just too big for you to fit completely into your mouth so you moved your hands up and down his shaft while you took as much of him as you could, swirling your tongue around the head.

“You’re doing so well baby,” he moaned, smoothing your hair back from your face. “I didn’t think a virgin like you’d be so good,” he teased. You glared up at him as you continued to suck his dick but you resolved to bite him if he made a comment like that again.

“I think I like you better like this you’re so pretty when you shut the- OW watch the teeth,”

You could taste it as the precum dribbled out of his cock smearing over your tongue, you were getting used to the bitter taste and it wasn’t that bad. You pushed your head down pressing his cock to the back of your throat suppressing your gag reflex.

“Fuck, baby just like that i’m going to cum down your thoat,” he groaned his hips stuttering upwards pushing his dick down your throat deaper making you choke. Atsumu didn’t care,he was moaning loudly as his hips spasmed up into your mouth.

You choked when his semen flooded your mouth. “Fuuck,” he sighed, pulling out of your mouth. You sluptered trying to catch the mess that bubbled out of your mouth.

“Ah, swallow what you can baby,” Atsumu said, whipping your chin with his thumb. You did as he asked, choking down what you could. He pushed you back on the bed kissing your neck, his lips running over your bruises,

“I like you like this, we should fuck more often he teased,” you shoved his chest, but weakly, it was clearly just for show. You didn’t want to admit it but you agreed with him.

You kept seeing Atsumu after that. He was a little nicer with you normally. Or at least, he saved his mean side for the bedroom and was a little sweeter to you. If you were a little more naive you might have even started to fall for him a little bit.

That was the Chliche right? You start out hating someone but then after a few nights of passion you were in love? Bullshit, it was all Bullshit.

you knew Atsumu hadn’t changed, and he wasn’t exactly saving himself for you. You couldn’t count how many times you’d walked in on him making out with some random chick, you’d even walked in on him while he’d been balls deep in some other girl.

That being said, you hadn’t changed either. you still had a temper like no other and were quick to snap, especially at Atsumu. You didn’t have many friends who put up with your bullshit so why would He even fall in love with you?

You shouldn’t be in love with him. He was an asshole, a heartless fuck boy. So why did you like him so much? why did it sting when you thought about how hopless your whole situation.

It sucked, this whole thing was just awful. That being said, you still jumped at the chance to see him everytime he called, you really were hopless.

“Where are we going?” you asked as Atsumu drove. You didn’t recognize this street and you knew you weren’t going to his place.

“It’s a surprise,” he said. You scoffed and crossed your arms. He pulled into a parking lot and you were surprised to see you were at a park.

“What are you going to fuck me on the slide?” you asked, following him out of the car and into the park.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid, me and my brother would play here,” he said, ignoring you and walking to the swings, you followed.

“And I still come here a lot, it’s a good place to think and it’s just a really special place for me,” he said sitting on the swing and gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

You did, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. “I don’t like where this conversation is going,” you said furrowing your eyebrows. It was almost the middle of the night so it was dark but you could still see the dopey lovestruck look on his face.

“Stumu, you’re not supposed to call me for stuff like this,” you said unwrapping your arms around his neck, you were going to get off his lap but he wrapped his arms around his waist keeping you there.

The two of you had agreed only to call each other when you wanted sex, this mushy romantic shit was defently not sex.

“You’re so pretty baby, let me be nice to you,” he said kissing you and you melted into him, just like every time he kissed you.

“You’re never nice to me,” you protested. He reached under your shirt groping you.

“Because you never let me,” he protested.

“What’s with you?” you asked, grabbing his wrist and shoving him away from you.

“I love you,” he said. You couldn’t deal with this right now, you got off his lap and started walking back to the car

“Take me home,” you demanded. “I don’t want to talk about this,” you said.

“(y/n)-” he said running in front of you stopping you.

“Please, I know you hate this shit, but please can we talk,” he pleaded taking your hands in his,

“You can’t just say shit like that Tsumu! We’re not supposed to love each other we’re supposed to fuck and get under eachother’s skin and fight that’s how this works!” you shouted.

Atsumu kissed your knuckles, seeming to ignore your yelling.

“We didn’t used to fuck either, we used to just get under eachother’s skin,” he pointed out. He wrapped you in his arms. You pressed your face to his chest and you felt your cheeks get wet with tears. You hiccupped and sobbed, trying to keep your emotions bottled up was hard.

“I love you,” he said again. You shoved him and whipped your face.

“I don’t want to do this Atsumu, take me home,” you demanded. He deflated.

“Okay baby, let's go home, I’ll be waiting, when you’re ready,” he said rubbing your shoulders and taking you back to his car.

You drove in silence. You hated this. Yout hated him. Atsumu was a playboy, an idiot and an asshole who only cared about Volleyball. You just wanted to insult him and fuck him to blow off steam. You weren’t supposed to fall for him. You weren’t supposed to love his cocky smile and his stupid jokes. His stupid flirty remarks weren’t supposed to make you blush.

“Baby?” he prompted you blinked and saw you were sitting in front of your dorm building. “Hey,” he purred, wiping the tears off your cheeks. You didn’t need him to tell you that he loved you, you could tell every time he did something like this. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“I really wished we’d had sex tonight,” you whispered. He laughed.

“fuck am I really that ireaistable doll?” he teased, pinching your cheek as he pulled away.

“I do love you Atsumu, I just- I just don’t know what to do about it,” you admitted. Atsumu smiled lazily.

you meant it too, you loved him so much. but it was impossible to get the image of the time you walked in on him sleeping with another girl out of your mind. Was that what it meant to be in a relationship with him? If so then you weren’t going to do it, you weren’t signing yourself up for that kind of heartbreak. Maybe you should just give up on him and block him.

“Like I said. I’ll wait for you, and next time I promise we’ll have the best sex of your life-Not that’s a hard bar to clear you virigin,” he teased. You smiled and playfully hit him in the arm. You got out of his car and walked into your building as he drove away, and at least for tonight. That was enough.

#haikyuu atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x reader smut #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!!

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Note

PLEEAASE 😭😭 I'm begging you for some hurt/comfort resolution for the last karlnapity x reader and sleepy bois brothers!! I just want them all to be happyyy. If the 3 lives was implemented, or if reader came back like ghostbur and the hurt is raw for the loved ones, the fallout and fixing, the love and regret i- (I loved the fic, your karlnapity are my favorite!! keep up the awesome work!! <3)

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader + sleepy boys x silbing!reader

trigger warnings: mention character death (it’s you, your the dead one) yelling, swearing,

requested by the anon above, another anon: “ngl after reading that angst fic I can picture y/n ( even tho I know y/n came back with knowing who the boys were ) coming back kinda like ghostbur knowing the boys voices but can't exactly place their names and who they are to them or something like that ?? idk my brain went think of more angst after that fic - also sorry this is just me rambling. love your work btw !!”

as well as @tobiostfu @theprocrastinatingshipper @pastelvixenbeauty and probably some more folks I might have missed

premise: this is a part two to the other angst thing from the other day, so I recommend you read that for context, this is a resolve (ish) to that

(y/n/n)- your nickname

“blep”- talking

‘blep’ thinking

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

You had drifted the lands of the SMP, and L’Manburg for sometime trying to remember what had happened, and why everyone was always yelling.

You’d try to talk to Karl, after Alex and Nick had left, but he just ignored you.

Now you were perched on the top of the stage, looking out ‘why are the walls gone?’, and then looking down, confused, at the strange, cage like structure built at the center.

You heard a sigh, and turned to see Eret looking up at the cage as well, you hopped down off the stage and concentrated, “Eret?”

They jumped, looking around, “What the hell?”

You screwed your eyes shut ‘please see me please see me please-’

“(y/n)?”

You opened your eyes to see Eret looking at you in shock, “Eret! I’m so glad to see you! Everyone’s been ignoring me lately, and acting like I’m not here, and I don’t get it.”

“(y/n)?” His voice was shaking.

“Yeah, Eret. It’s me!” You giggled, “What’s going on here? Did I miss the festival?”

“(Y/n).”

You looked at her confused, “Yeah. W- whats-”

“(y/n/n)?” A teary voice behind you called.

You grinned turning around, running to hug him, “Karl! I missed you! Why did you keep ignoring me?”

He began to cry as you sailed through him, “(y/n/n).”

“Karl? Karl love why are you crying? Eret what’s going on?”

Karl all but fell to his knee’s burring his head in his hands, muffling his sobs, “(y/n/n)!”

You sat beside him, continually trying to wrap your arms around him, but instead they just past through, over, and over, and over and over again, “Wh- why can’t I- what’s- what- Eret whats?”

Tears similar to Karl’s began to roll down your cheeks, as you looked down at your hands, only now noticing how gray your skin looked, “What’s going on?”

“(y/n),” You could tell Eret was fighting to keep their voice from shaking, “Do you not remember?”

“Remember what? What’s going on?”

Karl sobbed louder, and Eret shook her head, “(y/n), I- theres a path, through the woods, behind- up behind the hill. I- I need you to go up there, as far as it goes, alright?”

You nodded, “Why?”

“Just go. I’m going to take Karl back home. Maybe- maybe don’t come back to his house for a while.”

Eret gently helped Karl up, and led him away, his sobs still echoing in your head.

‘what the hell is going on here?’

Slowly you drifted up towards the hill Eret had spoken of, ‘hey, pogtopia is this way! maybe I’ll go see Wil an’ Tommy an’ Techno! They’ll know what’s going on.’

You continued to drift up the path, humming quietly and wondering what Eret had sent you to look at, and why Karl had been crying.

You looked up and around at all the trees, trying to remember them. It was in bits and pieces, Tommy yelling about about freedom, Wilbur saying how proud Phil would be.

You remembered the forests burning, ‘who had done that?’, hiding in the woods after- after something- tnt, blow- after L’manburg had been blown up.

You stopped moving, looking down confused at the stone you had come across, it as large, flat and upright, and you looked at the words confused.

‘(Y/n) brave beyond words, hero of L’manburg’ there were various flowers scattered around, a sword stuck out of the ground, a flower chain wrapped around it’s hilt, there was a uniform jacket, one you vaguely recognized as your own and a bandana, also tied to the hilt of the sword.

Someone dropped something, a sword, “(y/n)?”

“Techno! I missed you! Everyone down in L’manburg is being wierd and when I finally got Karl to stop ignoring me he just started crying, and there’s this weird thing up on the stage and the walls are gone, and Eret told me to come up here, and why is my name on this headstone?”

“(y/n/n) I’m sorry,” Your brother fell to his knees, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean too! They made me!”

“What are you talkin about Tech?”

“How are you back here? I’m sorry! This is my fault I did this to you!”

You were surprised to see your brother crying, “What’s wrong Techno?”

“You don’t remember?”

“(Y/n)?” Another voice asked.

You turned, looking at Wilbur, “Wilbur what’s going on? No one’s answering me again, and I’m scared that they can’t see me again! And I’m really confused and I made Karl cry and I don’t get it!”

“(y/n) your dead, you died, you- how are you?” Wilbur stuttered.

“Wha- wh- d- dead? What do you mean?” You watched as Wilbur carefully placed himself between you and a still crying Techno.

“You died, a few days ago. (y/n/n).”

You sank to the ground, fading away so that your brothers wouldn’t see.

~~ “So you don’t remember anything?” The man with the rams horns asked.

You shook your head, “Not everything. Just a lot of things. Wilby says I’m dead, which I guess makes sense now.”

You’d continue drifting around L’manburg, for a while, trying to figure out what had happened on your own, and ended up sitting dejectedly outside the white house, you could remember making it with Tubbo.

“Well I’m Shlatt.” He shuffled around in his desk, looking for something.

“Shlatt?” You paused, trying to remember him, pretending not to notice to see the fear that flashed in his eyes, “Your.. you were here before L’manburg right?”

“Yeah, uh, here.” He pulled out a book and quill, “Uh, write down what you remember, that might help.”

You looked at him quizzically, “I can’t touch things, uh- or manipulate objects in the normal world with out using huge amounts of energy.”

He frowned and quickly picked up the pen, “You dictate then.”

You hummed, “Well, things I remember....”

Alex woke with a start, sitting up from where he was hunched over his desk, blinking at the harsh afternoon light that was drifting through his office window.

He still hadn’t been back to the house since the fight after the execution, and had been forcing himself into work to mask the grief.

“So is there anything else? It doesn’t seem like you remember much.” Shlatt’s voice was muffled by the wall.

“Well it’s a bit foggy towards the end, and the beginning Ooo! I remember Alex and Nicky and Karl too! I could never forget them!”

Alex froze at the familiar giggle.

“Yeah, you never used to shut up about your boyfriends.” Shlatt chuckled.

Alex was running down the hall and slamming the door to the presidents office open before he could register he was moving, “Shlatt am I going insane or...”

He trailed off as your floating grayish form turned to him, “Alex! I couldn’t find you! And I didn’t know what was going on and everyone was ignoring me then I saw Wil and Techno and they told me I was dead. and then I found Shlatt! And he’s helping me write down what I remember! Have you met Shlatt? He’s nice!”

“Shlatt what the fuck is this?” He spoke through you as if you weren’t even there.

“Your partner. Apparently no one around has been helping them sort things out,” The president stood up and moved around his desk, “Ghosts tend to forget things of there past lives, and no one was helping them, so I am.”

“Did you tell them what happened? Why there fuckin- floating around instead of being here with us?” Alex spat.

Shlatt sighed, “Quackity listen this is a delicate thing. Right now it’s be better to help them remember than just tell them. So go find your stupid boyfriends and tell them the situation!”

“I cant Shlatt, we broke up. They don’t want to see me.”

“Is that what you were yelling about?” You asked quietly.

Alex looked at you, shocked, “You heard that?”

“Yeah. You and Nick made Karl cry. And then I couldn’t do anything about it,” you looked down at the floor, “w- is it my fault y- we’re broken up now?”

Alex remained silent so you continued, “I’m trying to remember what I did. And how I died. But if I did something stupid, or something to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

You were crying again, and Shlatt glared at Alex, which somehow surprised you, “This is why is trying to fucking handle this. Leave. Tell the others or not I don’t care, they’ll find out eventually.”

“Wh- Shlatt they- How-”

“I said get out,” Shlatt said firmly, “At least let me try to fix things I’ve fucked up.”

Alex shook his head before turning and heading out of the office, only ducking into his own long enough to grab something before stalking out of the building.

Shlatt turned back to you, already starting to pick the pen back up, “So what else do you remember about.. uh, your last few days. What do you remember right before the end?”

“Did they really break up because of me? If I did something I should go apologized.”

“Hey, hey, no, it ain’t your fault. I’ll go yell at them later. Tell me more about what you remember about the festival.”

~~ “Why the fuck are we here Shlatt?” Tommy half yelled.

Tommy, Technoblade, Wilbur, Alex, Nick and Karl were all gathered in front of Shlatt in the holy land.

“So, some of you may know, some of you may not, (Y/n) is back,” He looked over all the faces, Karl already looking like he was about to cry, and Nick frozen in shock, “For the past week or so they’ve been wandering and apparently none of you have been doing anything to help them.”

“Ghosts don’t remember much from there past lives, so good job on all of you that knew, you left your partner or sibling lost and confused,” He dropped the book you’d written together on the table, “I did my best, they remember everything that's written down here. I couldn’t tell them much about what they forgot, because it’s not my place.

“If you guys want, I can keep talking to them, and doing my best, but incase you haven’t noticed I’m also the fucking president. I can’t spend all my time helping educate a ghost. They disappeared yesterday, after saying something about Karl and how they saw you fools yelling, so, this is in your court now.”

Shlatt turned a walked away, heading back towards Manburg.

With shaking hands Tommy took the book, reading aloud,

“Things I remember: Home, fire, Phil finding me, Wilbur never having seen a child before, Techno swearing he’d protect me, fire, Tommy trying to spar with me before he could walk right, Techno teaching me to fight, finding the SMP lands, L’manburg, fighting for independence, fire,

“the forests burning, seeing Nick for the first time, Babysitting Fundy, winning independence, Eret leaving, fire, destruction, L’manburg thriving, the sun, Tubbo and his bees, more people coming to the country, meeting Karl, finding Alex, when we got our act together and finally all started dating.

“Wil threatening Nick and nick not being scared, Techno threatening all of them and making them terrified. Pogtopia, the cavern The festival, the dunk tank, Techno almost crying, my boys, fire.”

He looked up at his brothers, “You knew they were back?”

“I was in shock,” Techno was staring at his boots, clearing his throat uncomfortably, “Y’know I swore I’d protect ‘em, but- I- I killed ‘em.”

Nick grabbed the book from Tommy, “We have to find them.”

“Fundy can you turn the page for me please?”

The fox nodded, “Course (y/n).”

Most of the shock had worn off, and now he was mostly just happy to see you again, even going and finding an old photobook Wilbur had given him a while ago.

“Oh I remember this!” You pointed to a photo, it was taken a year after Phil had found you, “There was a big fire across the field, and while they were taking care of it I got scared and ran away, Techno found me in a tree.”

Fundy laughed, “3 year old you got in a tree by yourself?”

“Yeah, furball, I was in a tree when Philza found me too.” You chuckled.

“Hey Fundy, have you...” Niki burst in the door, tailing off as she saw you.

You waved “Hey Niki.”

“Uhh, Your brothers, and your partners are looking for you.”

You frowned, “Are they still my partners if I’m dead?”

Niki gave you a sad look, “Come on. Sapnap hasn’t seen you and he’s worried.”

“They all fought because of me, I’d rather stay here,” You looked out the door warily, “I don’t want to make things worse than they already are.”

“They need you (y/n), you brought them together.”

You drifted around Fundy and towards the door, “Making things worse isn’t something I want to do.”

You went through the door, past the group of people, making your form fade as much as possible so as not to be noticed, from there you wandered down to the docks, sitting on the edge to look over the channel.

“Phil sent a letter, said he’s devastated your gone, but overjoyed your still here.”

You looked up at Techno, “How’d you know I’d be down here?”

“You always liked the water,” He chuckled, “Specially if there was a fire goin on somewhere else.”

“I don’t want to make things worse, if your here to take me back there.”

“I’m here to apologize. I know you don’t remember, but in case you do, I’m sorry, I had to do it.”

You laughed, “Your my big brother Tech, I doubt I’d be mad at you if I remembered.”

He smiled sadly, sitting down next to you, “Why do you think you’ll make things worse?”

You sighed, “Well when I first came back, I thought everyone was ignoring me. And when I found L’manburg again Karl and Nick and Alex were fighting about something I did, and then when Eret finally saw me Karl started crying, and then when I found you and Wilby you started crying and I just- I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

Techno looked at you, “If anything it’s our fault. All of this.”

“Techno, can we talk to (y/n)?”

You froze at Nick’s voice, but your brother was already moving, and Your partners were taking his place.

“(y/n/n), we’re sorry-”

“Stop,” You cut Alex off, “Whatever’s happening stop. You can’t apologize to me for shit I did that I can’t remember.”

“(y/n/n), we aren’t apologizing for that, that's not even your fault. We’re apologizing for fighting as soon as you were gone.” Nick said.

“Please come back with us. Don’t disappear,” Karl’s voice was barley a whisper, “We can help you remember.”

You bit your lip, sobbing, “I don’t want to make things hard on you guys. I didn’t even want to come back like this! Before I woke up again, it was just darkness, and it was horrible. but somehow staying there for eternity seems better than this.”

All three sets of arms passed through you, all of your boyfriends forgetting they couldn’t hold you, only making you cry harder.

“I want to be resurrected.”

It had been a week and a half since the day at the docks. You hadn’t gone back with them, though you had continued hanging around Manburg, talking mainly to Shlatt, and by now you just wanted to go back to the normal you remembered.

“Resurrected?” Dream looked at you curiously.

“Yeah. I want to go back. If I can’t stay dead the normal way and I’m stuck here then I want it to be normal. I want to hug my boyfriends, and ruffle my little brothers hair!”

The man behind the mask merely cocked his head, “So why did you come to me?”

“You’re essentially a god in these lands. I figured you might know someone or someway for me to be resurrected,” The mask shifted and you could almost here the plan formulating in his mind, “And if it ends up failing I don’t want it to hurt anyone else.”

The man sighed, “It would be a very complicated process. It’s been what, three weeks since you died, what ever was left of your body is going to be- less than in good condition.”

“What was left?” You questioned.

“Oh, (y/n), didn’t they tell you?” Had the mask been gone you would have seen the gleam of wickedness in his eyes, “You went off with a bang.”

“You’re planning what?” Shlatt yelled, incredulous.

You’d told Shlatt about the plan for resurrections, seeing as he was one of the only one who really still talked to you, “I have to do it Shlatt! I can’t stay like this! I want things to be normal! I want-” Your voice grew small, “I want to take back what you took from me.”

Fear flashed in the horned mans eyes, “He told you.”

“Even you wouldn’t,” You said dejectedly, “I thought you were my friend.”

“I- I was your friend, At some points at least.”

He watched as you floated away, “I suppose we’ll see once I’m back.”

As soon as you were gone Shlatt was hurrying out of his office, “Quackity! Quackity, some shit is about to hit the fan! You better call the idiots in Pogtopia!”

It didn’t take long for him to assemble your brothers and partners, frantically telling them the situation, “Dream is up to something with this people! He obviously is doing some manipulation shit!”

“Why do you even care Shlatt?” Tommy asked, “Your the bitch who killed them, so why should you care if they come back?”

“Sorry that the one time I’m willing to look past shit you don’t trust me?” He groaned, pulling a bottle from his coat and taking a swig, “Sorry that I’m trying to help.”

“How would he even turn this against us?” Nick asked, “Resurrections isn’t something he can do, he’d put Bad in charge of that, and we all know that Bad wouldn’t corrupt someone.”

“It’s possible that they won’t remember anything, at all, and people who’ve forgotten are the easiest to manipulate.” Shlatt sighed.

“We have to help them.” Karl decided.

Darkness, darkness, darkness.

You had finally found your way back to that dark abyss, though now it was filled with strange chanting.

It felt like you were bein dragged across the length of the universe, losing everything of your being along the way.

‘stop! stop stop stop! I want- I want to remember’ you begged the darkness.

The hell you found yourself in seemed to stretch, continuing for infinity, the darkness, called you, begging you to stay, to give up the last of your essence to it.

The chanting grew louder as you tried to scream, the sound lodged in a throat that no longer existed.

All at once you became nothing, and then you felt the weight of a thousand suns crushing you back down into a body.

~~ Your eyes flicked open, to a blinding white world.

“It worked! There awake!” You heard Bad yell.

You started to smile as you heard Alex yell, “Get the fuck away from them Dream, you can’t manipulate anyone else!”

You sat up, starting to look around, but still, you saw nothing but light, “Alex? Wh- It- why can’t I see?”

“They remember!” you heard Karl rejoice.

“Why can’t I see?” You asked again, raising your hands to your eyes.

“(y/n) what do you mean?” Nick asked.

“I can’t see.” You said desperately, reaching out you felt your boyfriends wrapping there arms around you.

“I think I know how to fix it!” Bad yelled triumphantly.

Everything went black again.

This time, your trip through hell was not as bad, though you seemed not to notice as your existence and identify was striped away again.

~~ Your eyes flicked open, the feeling returned to your body, and slowly you sat up, looking around at the odd group of people gathered around you, “Who are you?”

As soon as the world came out of your mouth a mousy haired man in a colorful sweater burst into tears, the man with the beanie next to him quickly pulling him into a hug.

“I- Who are you?”

“Do you not remember?”

You shook your head, “Remember what?”

you turned to the pink haired man, “I know you don’t I? I swear- I- I know I know you. Why don’t I remember you?”

A demonic looking man quickly closed a book, “You guys should clear out. a third party might be better for this.”

~~ The man- Bad, had explained basics of things to you, who everyone who’d been in the room before, and the said that you would have to stay at his house in the Badlands for a few days.

The next day was better.

‘holy shit it worked!’ you thought, looking down at your arms, ‘I’m back’

Quietly you got out of the bed, rushing through the room and towards the stairs of Bad and Skeppy’s house, “Guys! Guys it worked! I’m alive again!”

You turned another corner to see you brothers, looking at you shocked, “(y/n)? You remember?”

You grinned, quickly pulling your brother into a hug, “It wasn’t your fault Techno! You didn’t mean to it’s okay!”

“(y/n/n)?”

You turned again, “Karl! Nicky! Alex!”

The next thing you knew you were in a pile on the ground, your boyfriends all hugging you tightly.

They brought you home soon after, and from there you had good days and bad days.

There were days where you remembered it all, days where you found yourself lost and confused in an unknown house, and days where you could on recognize certain things around you.

Still, you were back with Nick and Karl and Alex, and you would make it through, together.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs x reader #quackity x reader #sapnap x karl x quackity x reader #angst #sleepy boys x reader

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ladyeliot · 3 years

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Are you happy? [2/2] +18

Part One

Pairing: Ex!Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Summary: After almost two years without seeing each other, fate brings you together again, each of you has your own reason for the reunion, which brings your feelings to the surface again.

Warnings: Angst. Sentimental confusion. Infidelity. Unprotected sex.

Word count: 3975

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

John Steinbeck once said 'One can find so many pains when the rain is falling', you had never understood that phrase, never until that very moment. The drops seemed to descend fiercely, crashing firmly against your face, you hardly realised at what point the intensity of the rain had become so extreme, as you continued to be completely blocked from contemplating the face before you, and time never stopped.

The red brick of the Victorian houses, decorated with colourful flower boxes, seemed to create an idyllic scene of which you two were the protagonists in that narrow alley, but neither of you noticed. Words that could not now be erased from your mind had come out of his mouth, a mouth that was at that moment half-open as if it wished to express something else, but did not. You had had to deal with enough events in your life to know how to deal with any new moment that came your way, at least you thought you had, but you would never have thought you would have to face this. A dilemma opened up in your mind, but also in your heart, you were sure that you loved Chris with all your heart, you had loved him for as long as you could remember, he was your childhood friend, you never knew when your feelings became romantic, he didn't know either, but you had your assumptions.

Anyway, that love had never gone away, and it was never going to go away, it was going to be there for the rest of your lives, but things were not as simple as they might seem. Your love might have worked during your adolescence, during your youth, but when things got serious, somehow or other the relationship didn't move forward. There were no third parties, no cheating on either side, just different paths. Each of you had your own dreams that pushed you further and further apart, so far apart that you decided to end the relationship, which was not in the most amicable way possible.

The last two years were difficult for you, your smile had vanished from your face, but Garret appeared to give it back to you. You believed again that love was possible, and of course, although you always used to keep Cjris in mind, for which you used to blame yourself all the time, life seemed to be much simpler. Partly because of that, and because you loved him, you had accepted Garret's hand a month ago, but unfortunately you couldn't help imagining Chris the moment you said 'yes, I want to marry you'. And now there he was, Chris, in front of you, telling you that he was still in love with you and you could barely say a word because you had no idea how you felt, you didn't want to hurt anyone, you didn't want to suffer or anyone else to suffer because of you, but apparently it was too late.

Raindrops slid down your face, wiping away tears that you barely realised were flowing from your eyes, which were staring into Chris's. The radiant rays of sunshine had disappeared, bringing gloom to an autumnal morning, only the sound of the thunderstorm could be heard. The radiant rays of sunshine had disappeared, offering the gloom of an autumnal morning, only the rumbling of the storm could be heard. Chris finally lowered his face, nodding to himself, as if he had assumed defeat by not saying anything in the situation.

"Alright," those words came from inside him with a sigh. "I guess there's not much more to say," there was a moment of silence, in which he offered you one last chance to speak, but you could not. "All the best Y/N."

The lump in his throat that had been present since Chris had left his feelings open was massified when you heard your name forming on his lips. Before he turned away and continued on his way through the alleyway, he returned his eyes to yours in the hope that you would take control of yourself and stop him, but again you didn't. So you stood there, letting the rain wash over every part of you. So you stood there, letting the rain wash over every part of your body, watching as his figure gradually disappeared until he turned the corner and you lost him, lost him completely.

You had lost track of time since you left that coffee shop, you were stopped in that place for minutes, until your lower limbs mechanically carried you back to the car, where you remained silent for fifteen minutes. Your senses didn't seem to react, perhaps because you didn't want to feel, because you knew that if you felt you would be capable of doing something crazy, which would surely hurt someone a lot and you didn't want that to happen. His words played over and over in your brain, you glimpsed the blue of his eyes, the smile as you entered the cafeteria, his scent flowing into your nostrils, and his touch as you snuggled into his arms. It was like an internal torture that you couldn't get rid of, that you didn't really want to get rid of. Because who would want to get rid of the love of their life?

It was when the moisture on your face dried up that you realised that the wateriness of your eyes was not because of the raindrops but because you were broken. That revealed a large part of your feelings, your true feelings, which you had kept hidden, you loved him, with all your heart, as you had never loved anyone else, you had loved him for as long as you could remember, how could you not continue to love him?

A click made you connect again and brought you back to the real world, maybe your emotions were running high, but for once in your life you decided to act in the moment, leaving rationality aside, which had not allowed you to act before. You started the engine of the car, you knew perfectly well which direction you were going to take, you had travelled that road so many times that you hardly had to think about how to get to his house, where you hoped he would be. Your heart was racing and your adrenaline was pumping, but your hands around the steering wheel reminded you of that engagement ring on your left ring finger, causing you to slow down and stare at it. What the hell were you doing? If you did what you had in your mind two options were open to you, one was to make the biggest mistake of your life, the other was to win back the love of your life by breaking Garret's heart. Whichever you chose, someone would lose out.

Cars overtook you on the left as you kept wondering what to do, while the sky was still overcast and the rain was pouring down. Time became your enemy again, causing you to arrive in front of Chris's house without clearing your mind. You felt like you were back in the coffee shop, wondering whether or not to go in, whether or not to confront Chris. You turned off the engine of the car and dropped your forehead on the steering wheel, you could hear the drops falling hard on the roof of the car, which seemed to help you relax, strangely. You turned your face, staring at the front door of the house through the window, completely wet. The cafeteria had been a neutral place, this house was not, too many memories enveloped those four walls to go inside and not be affected by it. You were lost if you went in there, you knew what was going to happen and that you were going to let your feelings take you.

As if you wanted to give it one last chance you looked at the engagement ring that Garret had given you a month ago, you hoped that something would tell you that the best thing to do was to start the engine of the car again and get away from there as soon as possible, but it didn't. So you played your last trick. So you played your last trick, a very dangerous one, you asked yourself the same question that Chris had asked you and that you had answered systematically without thinking, were you happy, does Garret make you happy? Then you knew. The next thing you did, you did it with all the pain in your heart, but you needed to think about yourself, the future you wanted, who you wanted to spend it with and most importantly, you wanted to be happy, so there was only one possibility.

Looking at the ring you slowly pulled it off your finger, your eyes started to water, you wanted to do it differently, but Garret was thousands of miles away, so you did what you felt at that moment. Again the rain came down on you as you stepped out into the open, but you didn't care at all, your gaze was fixed on that white door that was going to open the way to your past. As you walked steadily you let the air invade your lungs giving you the strength to face what was about to come. A faint light came through the curtains of the window that overlooked the living room, that erased the doubts that invaded you in case he wasn't at home, and without knowing why your heart skipped a beat.

There you were, a metre between you and his door, a single gesture away from letting him know you were there, and you did it, your index finger approached the doorbell, a squeaky melody sounded inside the house, and you took a step back, marking a distance for when the door opened. You looked down at your hands and fiddled nervously with your fingers, which were dripping from the rain. It was thirty-six seconds before you heard the lock turn and the door open, presenting the figure of Chris before you. You looked up nervously, not knowing what gesture you were going to get from him, but what you could glimpse was a state of confusion and hope mingled in his eyes. You parted your lips, still playing with your fingers.

"I..." was the only thing you could say before a lump rose in your throat and your tears wandered and mingled down your cheeks.

You turned your face and placed the palm of your hand on it, as if to hide the fact that you were crying. At that very moment, arms wrapped around your body and pulled you inside the house, making their body heat and that of the interior of the room cover your body. You broke down emotionally, you knew it was one of the things that could happen, too many emotions to keep them all hidden inside you. So soft sobs began to come out of your throat, you kept your eyes closed and your forehead resting on Chris's chest as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body.

"It's okay," he murmured against your head, letting out a sigh. "I'm here. I've got you."

After those words he placed a kiss on top of your head and then rested his hands on your cheeks, pulling away from you a few inches to search your face with his gaze. That was the last thing you wanted to do, because you felt confusingly embarrassed about the situation that was happening, he knew it, he knew you hated crying in front of people, but it was him after all. Chris gently lifted your chin to force you to look at his face, where there was a longing smile on his lips, but you averted your gaze, causing his smile to widen and he moved closer to your forehead to kiss it before he hugged you again.

"You're completely soaked," he whispered. "Come with me, the fireplace is lit, I'll get you some towels and some dry clothes."

Again the proximity was broken, but not the contact, Chris intertwined his fingers with yours, realizing something, you saw how he looked at your intertwined hands and then stared at you with his lips parted as if he wanted to ask, but he didn't, he preferred to ignore it. Your steps took you to your memories, when you entered the living room it was inevitable not to think about the times you both had occupied that sofa, or the times you had made love on that carpet next to the fireplace, it was an open diary.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right back," he said, unlacing his fingers and heading upstairs via the staircase.

Your decisive mood with which you had left the car had collapsed at the mere sight of him, the little plan you had improvised in your mind had been cut short, putting you back on your own in the face of destiny. But what you were really sure of was what you felt, at least it was something you were sure of, it was him, only him, at that moment looking carefully all around you you realised that you never wanted to live again without him in your life, in whatever way it was, because in truth you were also in love with him, although you had tried to erase him from your mind during those two years.

His footsteps coming down the steps made you alert again, Chris entered the room holding two folded towels in his hands along with a sweatshirt you knew perfectly well and a pair of sweatpants, he stood in front of you.

"You can go and change in the bathroom, or if you prefer in the bedroom," he said offering you the set of items, "you know where everything is... if you want to give me your coat, I can put it in the dryer."

You nodded softly, still looking into his eyes, the warmth of the fire in the fireplace to your right washed over you, and the shadows created a pleasant ambience against the darkness outside. Slowly you undid each button of your coat and removed it from your body, offering it to Chris who took it in his free hand. You didn't know what happened in that instant, whether it was the intensity of your gaze, or the silence that was only broken by the raindrops and the sparks from the firewood, but you didn't stop. Just as you had undone the buttons on your coat you began to undo the buttons on your blouse, Chris's eyes shifted from yours to your hands and every movement they were making. As you finished you let the soaked blouse fall down your arms and onto the carpet, exposing your bare skin, covered only by a black bra.

In those moments, Chris's limbs seemed to be locked as he continued to hold the clothes and towels in his arms, still looking at your body with a look on his face that you couldn't describe. You offered him a few seconds of time to see how he reacted, but he said nothing, your hands slowly moved to the button of your trousers which you undid without looking away from his face, unzipped the fly and pulled your legs out through his thighs, leaving him again next to the blouse. That was the moment when Chris let everything he was holding fall from his arms and without a second thought he wrapped his hands around your body, pulling you closer to him, breaking the tension of the moment, wrapping your lips around his, kissing you as if his life depended on it. A gasp came from inside you as if the physical contact you were having wasn't enough, as if your chest was going to explode from one moment to the next. He brought his hands to your face pulling you away from him, needing to look at you to make sure that what was happening was real and not one of the fantasies wandering through his head.

"Don't stop," you murmured feeling weak as he pulled away from you.

As if on direct order Chris closes the distance again, but this time gently, caressing your lips tenderly, but the wetness of his lips and the roughness of his beard causes a moan of need to be reborn within you. His hands roam over your bare shoulders, gently down your arms, resting on your hips, as yours rested on his neck, preventing him from pulling away from you again. You felt small shivers of pleasure with every touch of his fingers on your skin, you knew that the situation would go as far as you wanted it to, that at that moment you had the reins, but really you had already lost them a long time ago. You dropped your hands until you reached the top of his sweatshirt which you pulled up indicating your need for him to disappear from his body. Chris acted, exposing his body to you.

Your fingertips scanned every nook and cranny that you thought you had lost, that you thought would never be yours again, but there they were before you. Chris brought his lips to your neck, making you lose your reason for being again, as he caressed your back and took the liberty of unclasping your bra, causing it to fall to the carpet. You knew then that you would never tire of the fluidity of his tongue running along your collarbones until it came to rest on your breasts.

A contraction arose in your intimacy making you realise the need you were exploring for him at that moment. Without hindrance you took it upon yourself to undo the button of his jeans that slid down his legs revealing his need for you.

"You can't imagine how many times I've thought about this moment," he mumbled against your lips, undoing his trousers as best he could.

His arms curved to grasp your thighs and encircle his hips, letting your naked bodies collide, that movement alone an action that brought you to lie on the woollen carpet. The softness of his fibres and warmth enveloped your back, as Chris's lips trailed across your belly while your panties trailed down your thighs until they disappeared from the scene. The shadows wandered between you, the fire seemed to want to be part of the moment and you appreciated it, it was warm, but no more so than his lips resting on your centre, sliding his tongue between your folds, making you lose your composure, letting him know the pleasure you were feeling at that very moment. The throbbing in your core began to intensify as his tongue brushed against your clit, until you could take no more and became a prey to your own pleasure, calling out the culprit's name over and over again.

But before you could even relax, before the throbbing could stop, you felt Chris want to be a part of it and gently thrust inside you, causing a deeper moan from both of you to fill the room. It had been too many years together, you knew to the millimetre the sensations the other person experienced, what made them feel the most pleasure, what they liked. Chris loved to feel your throbbing when his tongue made you orgasm around him, and that was a sensation he extrapolated. Inside you, however, he just felt you around the stiffness of his member, he barely made any movement, he just kissed your neck, lying on top of you, waiting for the calmness to take over and transport you back to paradise.

"Move, please," you begged, hoping to prolong the moment of pleasure you had just experienced, preventing him from leaving at all.

His movements began delicately, keeping himself propped up on his elbow while his other hand cupped your hip. Having him on top of you, the two of you lying on that carpet which had been part of your love on so many occasions felt like you had travelled through time. His ragged breaths came against your face, you wrapped your legs around his waist so that the depth of his member was greater. You could feel the rapport between the two bodies, the need to have each other again. Nothing seemed to matter in those moments, you felt his movements erase all the worries that were present in your mind, the only thing that mattered in those moments were the two of you.

His lips were pressed to yours, letting out gasps as his movements increased in speed. Your fingers were lost in his hair, as you kept your eyes closed, exploring how the pleasure continued each time his member slapped against your inner wall. And you felt it, his stiffness swelled inside you, you knew that's what it meant, he was close. You opened your eyes to find that his gaze was focused on you, that he was waiting for some sign from you that would prevent him from carrying out his release, but you merely trapped his lips between yours and placed a hand on his hip to keep him going.

A much smaller free fall than the first one you had felt engulfed you next to him, his moans projecting your name into the inside of your head, his movements becoming irregular and deep, making your bodies move across the carpet.

Calm, after a few minutes, came over you, making you feel the burn of your back from the rubbing of your nakedness against the carpet, making you feel the dampness of your hair still present and the flush of his cheeks from the heat of the fire in the fireplace. After Chris came out from under you and settled right behind you, you curled up sideways facing the fireplace. You felt his lips kiss every part of your reddened back and his arm went around your waist pulling you to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he placed a kiss on your bare shoulder.

"I think so," you replied contemplating the sparks from the firewood.

Fortunately you didn't have to project your feelings, he knew how you might be feeling right now, though he didn't get half of what you were really going through.

"I think you know that," he began in a soft tone that matched the atmosphere, "but I need to tell you that I love you," there was silence, as your torturous feelings came over you. "I know your head will be a complete mess right now, I don't want to burden you, I just want you to know that I'm here, that I'm still in love with you and that I intend to never part from you, if you'll let me."

Vulnerability came over you as you heard those words, you felt like you were a child again and you were faced with a decision you weren't capable of facing, you just wanted to feel protected, so you turned your body and came face to face with Chris. His legs wrapped around yours, agreeing to an even more intimate moment if that was possible. When you looked up into his face his smile was waiting for you to relax, to make you see that he was there with you, that everything was okay.

"Everything will be fine," his voice was confident, warm, his voice denoted the future.

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white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen · 3 years

Text

Future

A/N: Yikes. I cried several times writing this. I'm very proud of how it turned out - I think it's one of my strongest pieces on the entire blog - but be warned: bring tissues. Also, Mozzie's quote is originally from Abraham Lincoln. Requested by @ladykeqing

Summary: In the wake of Neal's death, a regret haunts you.

Word Count: 1,964

Peter sat you down and told you in his home. Well… just June’s home, now. The way Mozzie had trailed behind him, for once wordless… His face looking ashen… A part of you had known even before Peter asked you to sit down.

“He told me to say he’s sorry,” Peter said, barely more than a whisper that somehow felt deafening to your brain. “And that he loves you more than you know.”

The room was suddenly stifling. It was more than just the emotions in the air, layering over each other into a thick, caustic fog. It was the darkening of shadows that stretched in from the glass doors, and the silence of the record player that drove deep into their eardrums to muffle the little sounds of life coming from each other. The penthouse was, in an instant, so tiny and deathly empty, and you wished so dearly that you’d been at your own apartment. Staying the weekend had seemed like such a great idea before you abruptly became the only resident.

For a few seconds, you had a mind to just stay put and let the shadows come and take over. To let the agonizing ache of loss engulf your entire heart and continue expanding until it was bigger than your body and you disappeared forever. All so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the records Neal would never again play and the table he would never again sit at. So you would never have to spend a last moment in the home of your lover before turning your back on it and, by extension, him.

Without him, there was nowhere to turn. The prospect of your remaining lifetime without your partner made your chest and throat tighten with another round of sobs. It all felt so dim. You tried to hold it back, but couldn’t last long before your hands were to your mouth and a strangled whimper was breaking from your lips.

Mozzie could have fooled you into thinking he hadn’t heard, so resolute he was in boring a hole into the rug with his stare. Peter looked towards you with deep brown eyes, solicitous and pleading at the same time. He was as stunned as you were – but where you were being crushed under the weight of isolation, at least Peter got to go home to El. You didn’t have anyone to go home to anymore. Hell, without Neal, did you even have a home at all?

You envied Mozzie. Really, you did. His Buddhist leanings might be a comfort to him, able to think of Neal’s absence as temporary, or his spirit as remaining around them in some way or form. But when you tried to imagine you could feel him still there, the encroaching shadows and silent record player and empty bed all drew together at once until you were drowning in the lack. It was as if your haywire senses were punishing you for thinking even for a moment that you could feel your loss as anything less than absolute. He was gone and the world was permanently less wonderful.

A gunshot. Neal hated guns so much. Maybe this was why.

Wait. No. Time didn’t work like that. Right? He couldn’t hate something for a reason that hadn’t happened yet.

Laughter that bordered on hysterical bubbled out of your throat as you anxiously covered your face, waiting for the mania to pass. Laughter was easier than sobs. It physically hurt less. Emotionally it was so much worse. You could feel the concerned eyes on you while you waited until your desperate giggles died, just like your partner.

“I never said,” you said, wresting the words out before cries – or worse, more laughs – forced themselves out instead. You looked down with shame and guilt. His last words to you were almost cruel. Tender in their meaning, but cruel in consequence – he would never know how deeply you cared for him. You hoped he did. Didn’t you show it all the time? But that was different from hearing the words out loud, and now not only were you going on without Neal, but you were going on carrying the burden of knowing you hadn’t been able to offer him the comfort of certainty in knowing he had been loved in life and would be grieved in death. “I never got to tell him I love him.”

The mere look that Peter gave you in response would have broken your heart if it hadn’t already been lying shattered somewhere between your stomach and the floor. It was as if he were imagining for himself not getting to tell Elizabeth how he felt, or worse, imagining how alone or afraid she might feel if she didn’t know there were somebody fighting for her and remembering her every day.

Sobs would come any moment now. Your throat was tighter than a string on a violin, and any minute you’d stop being able to breathe. In, out, you reminded yourself. Keep it together just a moment more. And then another moment after that. You couldn’t break down until you were alone. You didn’t know why you couldn’t break in front of Neal’s family, but didn’t have the energy to question it, either, not when you barely had the energy not to scream and weep into your hands.

“He knew.” Mozzie’s words were quiet but startling and said with all the confidence of Neal himself. “You didn’t have to say it.”

“But he deserved to hear.” Knowing it and hearing it were different games and Neal, for all his faults, deserved to hear it, too. “He deserved to come home. I don’t…” You lost your train of thought. Why were you talking about yourself when you weren’t the one whose brilliant life had been stolen? After a small shake of your head, you sniffed and shakily breathed out. “We had an entire future. And now there’s nothing left.”

You could see it passing in your imagination, all the little milestones that you’d come to anticipate. Content days at home, interspersed with adventures to his favorite places around the world, marked by marriage and birthdays and achievements and anniversaries. You’d never articulated them out loud, never even realized fully that you’d started to await those days, but now you saw them vanishing and you realized not only were you having to grieve for the best man you’d ever known, but you’d also have to grieve for the missed experiences and joys that he had lost, and the shared life that you had to give up on, as well.

Mozzie finally looked up to you and you noticed that his eyes were puffy and red behind his glasses. You didn’t even know someone could cry that silently. “The best thing about the future,” he quoted, slow and weighty, probably to keep his own voice level. “Is that it comes one day at a time.”

The comfort was meaningless to you. One day at a time was worthwhile when it was endless days of love and companionship. When that was gone, it was just day after day of being adrift with nothing to hold onto.

You sniffed again and replied in a surprisingly even voice, “My future is laying in the morgue.”

~Future~

Leaving Y/N was one of the hardest things Mozzie had ever done, and he had a lot of challenges and dubious decisions in his past. Leaving her to wallow and suffer rubbed him in every wrong way possible, except for the one where it meant – at least for now – that she would be safe. He didn’t think, if he stayed, that he would be able to hold back from blurting out the truth. He couldn’t even look at her for fear of spilling. Not once her tears started. He couldn’t watch his friend, and his best friend’s love at that, weep with agony she didn’t need to feel.

Neal begged to differ, though Mozzie knew that it tore his heart in two to hear her voice over the long-distance connection. When Mozzie was sure the suit was out of earshot, and that Y/N and June had both stayed inside, he lifted his phone from his pocket and breathed heavily in the cold December air that seemed to burn his lungs.

“Did you hear all that?” He asked, impressively steady and managing to get his criticism and support across with his tone simultaneously.

He took off his glasses, thankful Neal couldn’t see that he, too, needed to wipe his eyes dry. Alive was good. Alive but far away and unreachable – at least for the foreseeable future – was still painful.

“I did,” Neal confirmed, voice and heart both heavy somewhere at least a thousand miles away. “I wish…” Neal trailed off, and Mozzie wholly believed that he also needed a moment to compose himself. Why either of them bothered pretending not to cry, he didn’t understand, but they had already dedicated themselves to the farce. “She’s safer this way. If she looks for me, we’re all in danger.”

“If you let this go on, she will never forgive you.” Mozzie warned, thinking about the broken look on your face. It had been like watching a dropped plate shatter in slow motion to see the cracks begin to appear before your very spirit seemed to splinter. Then he thought about how desperately you wished Neal knew you loved him, and he thought maybe there was a chance that desperate love would override the anger. He amended, “Or, if she does, it’ll never be the same.”

“I know.” Neal agreed readily but with a quiver to his voice. “I want to come home, but not if it means visiting her grave.”

“The cautious way it is.” Mozzie put his glasses back on his face, bravely shoring up his willpower. “I can’t know where you are, and she can’t know you’re out there.”

“Keep an eye on her for me.”His voice was full of sorrow and longing.

“Of course.” Neal didn’t even need to ask. If there came a time when the Panthers were dealt with and Neal could – well, if not return home, at least be reunited with Y/N somewhere without an extradition treaty, Mozzie would be the first to set it in motion. “Be well, mon frére.”

“You, too, Moz.”

The line went dead.

~Future~

Approximately four thousand miles away, on a windy beach, Neal stood barefoot in the dark, watching the light from the moon reflect off the choppy, shallow surf. The breeze drifted through his hair and bit across his face with the sting of northern weather.

He looked down at the open phone in his hand, fighting every feeling in him to turn it back on and beg Mozzie to take the phone back up to his former penthouse. Or, worse, to turn his whole body around and get on a ferry to the mainland, and fly back to New York as fast as possible to hold you in his arms. The heartbreak in your voice had been almost too much for him to bear. It would have been, if not for his terror of being reckless and selfish and letting you pay the price.

He had known you loved him, and because he loved you so unbelievably much in return, he couldn’t go home. Not yet. He would work on it from afar, where no one knew he was breathing, much less could trace him back to his darling. One day, if he were incredibly lucky, he could come home and you would still have space for him in your heart and mind. For now, he would have to settle on replaying your words in his head.

I love you, too.

Neal hurled the phone out into the ocean.

#white collar #white collar x reader #lawmen and conmen #neal caffrey #neal caffrey x reader #fanfic #fic #oneshot #future #hurt #angst #sad #requested #drama

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borkthemork · 3 years

Note

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on.

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent.

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep.

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted, letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did.

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock.

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful.

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this.

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

#amphibia #marcanne #annarcy #asks #Anonymous #fanfic #this took weeks to write here ya go

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t00turnttrauma · 2 years

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unexpected-jtk

Request: can you do something with Jake with Y/N and something that he surprises her with, like he comforts her after she gets beat or something. Something angsty and it doesn’t have to be romantic or anything.

This one hit hard.

warnings: domestic violence, fist fighting, bruises

You never expected to be part of the statistic. Nor did you ever believe that you were about to be one of the women on the other side of your office, the one telling the story instead of listening. Your brain was foggy, unable to believe that your other half of six years was capable of what he'd just done. It wasn't the first time, but this was the worst. The confusion hung heavy, but then the positive aspects broke through the clouds. You were alive. You were walking. You were breathing. It wasn't that bad then, right?

You walked the mile and a half to Josh's house. His brothers were staying with him for a while, so you hadn't been over in a while. It wasn't that you didn't want to hang out with them, it felt like you were intruding when they invited you over. Josh opened the door, his smile faltering when he looked closer. Your face was puffy from crying and your walk was a little lopsided, not enough to qualify as a limp, but noticeable enough for Sam to look at you funny as you crossed to the other side of the living room. Jake walked past you.

"Y/N," he said.

"Jake," you responded as he went up the stairs.

The severity of the situation fell again. Josh was the first to ask questions. He didn't ask what brought you to his doorstep, but what had you walking like that.

You plastered on a smile, wincing as you tried to stand up straight. “It’s nothing, I just had a rough fall earlier.”

Josh looked at his little brother then back at you. Sam left, flashing a look of worry before disappearing into his room. “Y/N, what happened?” You lied right through your teeth, telling him that someone had spilled their drink at work and you slipped. He wasn't convinced. “Let me see your back.”

He started coming closer and you backed away, somehow ended up on the opposite end of the table in the dining room. “Josh, really it’s not a big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal then why don’t you show me?”

You backed away, ending up cornered again at the counter in the kitchen. Josh gingerly lifted your shirt, keeping his uard up in case you stopped him. But you didn't. You let him lift your shirt until your bra clasp appeared. His eyes widened at the sight of your back. He gasped as he saw the marks and bruises you'd been hiding for months. They never really healed. Not for almost three years.

“What the hell? Did Johnny do that?”

You shook your head. “He didn’t mean it.” You knew it was wrong. No normal person would react the way Johnny did. “We got in a little bit of an argument this morning and he pushed me a few times.”

Josh shook his head. “Y/N, this is not okay. That son of a bitch can’t do that to you.”

“It’s not a big deal…”

“He hurt you," he spat.

“You don’t understand,” you said. “He’s been under a lot of pressure. I told him he should get a job and he told me that he’s been applying at this company and I said that maybe he should aim lower, just for now. He said that I didn’t believe in him and-“

"He didn’t forget your birthday. He hit you. You were a counselor! You’ve heard this shit a thousand times and you’re spewing it back at me.” The look on Josh’s face was one you’d never seen before. He was fuming. You could tell by the way his eyebrows were knit together and his mouth was drawn open. His chest was rising and falling quickly, but his eyes were full of worry. You felt your voice break.

“I should have just walked away, and I didn’t. It was my fault.” Josh pulled you into a hug. “I just don’t want anyone to know,” you sobbed. His arms stayed still around you, careful about squeezing too hard.

A set of footsteps came close, and Jake’s voice echoed. “What happened?” He asked, eating out of a jumbo bag of chips. Seeing the two of you embracing in the kitchen, he crumpled the top of the bag.

You sniffed and pulled away. “Noth-“

“Johnny bruised her up,” Josh said before turning back to you and leading you to the bathroom. “Let’s wash your face and we can find you come clothes.”

Josh helped you use Ronnie’s face wash. Instead of bringing up Johnny or saying his name, he mumbled affirmations and a plan to you. He promised you a place to stay, dinner, and other little promises. He gave you some pajamas from his closet. Sam came out of his room, having heard everything. His bedroom was above the kitchen, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just looked at you, staring and probably wondering what the bruises looked like. You pretended not to notice, instead silently eating your cereal, and focusing on the tv. Josh’s phone rang and your heart raced. It was Danny, asking if he’d seen Jake recently. They were supposed to meet for dinner, but he bailed.

“No, I haven’t seen him for a few hours. I just thought he was in his room.” Josh peered through the blinds. “His car is gone.”

When that phone call ended, Josh sat beside you, holding you beneath his arm comforting you in silence. Another phone call landed at midnight. Josh didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway. He went straight upstairs, coming back down with a pair of shoes, his keys, and wallet. “Jake’s been arrested. They wouldn’t tell me why.”

Sam sat up on the couch and started putting his shoes on. “Do you want to come with us? I don’t know if you should stay here alone.”

The car ride wasn’t as serious as you thought. Sam and Josh were throwing theories back and forth as to what Jake did. Nothing could prepare you for what you saw. Jake was in bad shape when the officer took the three of you back to the holding cells. His nose and lip were bloody and his knuckles were bruised. He’d given his statement already, now just awaiting his brothers to bail him out. Another officer whisked you into another room, asking questions about Johnny and what he’d done to you. They hadn't told you the full story about why Jake was there, but they asked you the million-dollar question.

“Would you like to press charges?”

You didn’t even have to think about it. You spent the next few hours crying to a female officer, telling her your story and the other little things Johnny had done to you. You showed her photos from the other instances. Bruises on your wrists from where he grabbed you roughly or the big bumps on your thighs where he pushed you into the dining room table. Unlike the women you counseled, you weren’t afraid of speaking up. It was unclear where that strength came from.

The brothers waited for you to finish your process before going home. You sat in the backseat with Jake. Pretending not to notice the way he chewed the inside of his cheek and just how badly bruised he was.

You had Jake had never really gotten along. At least not well. You knew Josh first, then clicked almost immediately with Sam and Danny, but with Jake, it was a different story. Josh had a crush on you when you first met, and Jake felt that his brother was changing himself too much. You didn’t like him because you thought he was too controlling of his older brother. But now, you saw that it wasn’t control, it was defense and protection.

When the four of you made it back to Josh's house, Sam went back to his room. You and Jake sat in the living room in silence, facing each other in the recliners on either side of the room. Josh paced in the kitchen for a few minutes before coming back into the living room.

"Mom and pop are coming down tomorrow morning." He looked at you. "I'm going to change, then you can have my room."

You nodded. "Can you stay with me in there?"

He nodded back.

Jake was tapping his foot against the carpet. You cleared your throat. "Thank you, Jacob."

"Don't mention it." He tried to leave it at that, but it was obvious that he couldn't. "What a fucking joke of a husband, Y/N. I barely touched him, and he calls the cops."

You motioned to his hands. "It doesn't look that way."

"I can't believe you're defending him!"

You shut your mouth. He didn’t mean for it to come out aggressively as it did, but you were still fragile. Instead of talking about it, like you’d told everyone to, you went into the kitchen instead, closing the door behind you.

Jake couldn’t sleep that night. His mind was still reeling from what he’d done, including snapping at you. The guilt and anger swirled in his mind. He’d already thrown up once, expelling as much of the bad vibes as he could. The one emotion he didn’t have was regret. He wouldn’t change what he did. Of course, the charge they’d put on him wouldn’t look good and would take a lot of explaining, it wouldn’t be too hard to take his side.

Johnny had opened the door. “Are you looking for Y/N, ‘cause she’s not here.”

The guitarist shoved his way into the apartment, looking around for any signs of the struggle. Everything was in its place. No one would ever think that anything happened, but Jake knew. He was in the hallway, listening to you talk to Josh. He caught a glimpse of your back, heat shooting up his arms as he put two and two together. As Josh took you into the bathroom, Jake simply grabbed his coat and left.

“You think it’s funny?” Jake snapped, turning back to Johnny.

Your husband had a few inches on Jake, even a good two and a half on Danny, but Jake wasn’t intimidated. Johnny raised his hands, almost like he was expecting to be hit. “What do you mean?”

Jake shoved him roughly. “Y/N’s a sweetheart. And you think it’s fun to beat on girls?” Realizing that Johnny was backing away, he only taunted more. “What? Am I not the kind of person who you like to beat on?”

“I never touched her man,” he said, his eyes dancing from side to side. He opened the door, but Jake followed him.

“Let the entire neighborhood know,” he shouted. “I’m not afraid. Johnny here likes to hit women!”

Porch lights turned on and curtain shuffled. Despite it being quite late, people were watching. With an audience, Jake’s rage grew. Johnny was the first to strike, getting Jake in the nose. He shouted something about staying out of the matters pertaining to a husband and his wife. Jake tackled him to the ground, delivering blow after blow. The cops arrived soon after, pulling the two apart. Jake’s nose was bleeding, and his cheek was quickly bruising, but Johnny was worse off.

You tossed and turned in Josh’s bed, listening to his snores. He was asleep on the futon in the corner of the room. There was no way you’d be able to sleep. The image of Johnny looming over you was still very real to you. Even though he was in a holding cell across town, you couldn’t shake the feel of him.

It was nearly three in the morning when you rose from the bed. You were planning on showering, hoping to wash away some of the fingerprints left behind. Instead, you bumped into Jake. He stared at you from the end of the hallway, a glass of water in his hand. You walked closer, pulling him into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” he cooed. “I’ve got you.”

#gvf #josh gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #gvf fanfiction #gretavanfleet

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americasmarauders · 3 years

Text

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2.

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned. no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it.

words: 11,416

mastelist

It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her.

Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school.

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain.

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes.

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something books couldn’t even soothe.

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head - words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him.

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at.

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours.

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite.

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth.

“Fast reader?” she asked.

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him.

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent.

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way.

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts.

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter.

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself.

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were.

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself - good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did, “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging.

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind.

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened.

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him.

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to. #

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve.

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise.

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks.

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that.

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf, “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous.

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot.

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her.

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter.

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion.

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful.

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him.

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him.

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned.

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless.

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes.

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault.

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony.

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind.

Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong.

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her.

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain.

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough.

She picked a single memory and entered it.

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened.

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought.

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said.

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation.

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started.

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it.

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him.

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her.

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him. She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help.

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves.

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused.

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before.

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her.

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering.

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily.

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid.

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

“How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves.

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant.

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad.

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible, he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to.

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her.

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain.

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else.

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks.

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes.

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk.

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return.

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently.

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it.

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head. It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding.

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be.

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.”

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it.

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards.

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet.

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person.

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day.

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically.

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold.

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted.

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it.

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door.

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time.

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily.

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words.

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out.

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem.

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true.

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared.

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out.

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together.

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before. “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips.

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry.

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly. “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor.

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others.

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down.

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head.

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her.

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before.

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his. “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

#Bucky Barnes #TFATWS #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #one shot #marvel fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes x librarian!reader #my masterlist

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