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ellemj · 6 months

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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 7

Bucky Barnes x Reader

**Read parts 1-6 first for the full effect!**

Summary: Bucky thinks you're avoiding him because you're worried that he caught feelings for you after the night you shared, but he couldn't be more wrong.

Warnings: mentions of previous smut, profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI!!!

Word Count: 5k

Author's Note: Where the hell am I going with this? Is it possible for it to get even smuttier before this ends? I think that's where I'm going, down a very smutty rabbit hole. I need to be stopped.

You expected to feel so guilty and distraught after the night that you had with Bucky. You slept with your partner not just once, but five times. All in the same night. Inexplicably, you feel almost completely fine, with your only issues being how sore you are now and figuring out when’s the right moment to give his dog tags back. You’re sure he didn’t expect you to keep them. You’ve barely managed to get along for the past two months that you’ve worked together. There’s no way he’d want you to keep one of his most sacred possessions just because you spent a night together. You’ll give them back sometime today, when the time is right.

You put the tags out of your mind as you finish packing up your small duffel bag. The team sent the quinjet to bring you and Bucky back home after confirming that you were both fine and that the chemical had seemingly cleared your systems. Banner initially wanted to have the two of you enter quarantine when you return to the compound later today, but after a brief conference call with a few biomedical experts in the field, he decided it was overkill. You probably would’ve fought it anyway. After the last 24 hours, all you want is to be back in your suite at the tower, to take a long, hot shower, and then to sleep for twelve hours straight in your own familiar bed. Bucky, however, is on a different page.

His mind hasn’t stopped doing cartwheels since the phone call from Sam that woke you both up an hour ago. You’d played the situation off well, telling Sam that Bucky didn’t answer his phone because he was showering. Sam didn’t question it. Why would he? Everyone on the team is fully aware of yours and Bucky’s working relationship. You’re just barely civil with each other when it’s paramount to the success a mission, or when your lives depend on it, but outside of that? Well, let’s just say that neither of you go out of your way to do any sort of partner bonding.

Bucky finished packing his duffel bag fifteen minutes ago, but he can hear that you’re still working on yours. He wants to walk across the hall and sit on your bed while you pack. He wants to just sit there and have a conversation with you, or if you don’t want to talk, he’d be content just to be around you at this point. He didn’t realize how starved he had been for human connection until last night and now he feels too alone sitting in this room by himself. His thoughts are too loud, the whirring of his vibranium arm is too noticeable, and there’s the looming threat of last night’s events replaying in his mind. If he lets himself think about last night and earlier this morning, he’ll end up with a hard-on. If he ends up with a hard-on, you’ll likely notice and he won’t be able to blame it on the fucking HYDRA chemical from hell this time. For the first time in a while, Bucky doesn’t know what to do with himself.

---

You’re definitely avoiding him. Bucky expected some kind of conversation on the flight back home, but you were quick to seclude yourself into a corner seat to work on typing out your mission report from the last 24 hours. He sat in the row of seats across from you and a little to your right, occasionally glancing over to see you still fully concentrated on your laptop screen, typing away. What were you typing anyway? He was sure that you weren’t going to be putting the full truth in your report, so why were you so concerned with getting it finished before landing in New York?

After the first hour of the flight, he was desperate for you to say just one word to him. Leaning forward in his seat, he rests his elbows on his knees and traces the lines of the palm of his vibranium hand with the index finger of his flesh hand. He could ask you if you slept well those last few hours this morning before Sam called. No, that just sounds like small talk. He could ask you something related to the mission, maybe something about the samples you’re bringing back for testing. That’s what he’ll start with. He sits back once again and focuses his gaze on you, clearing his throat in preparation for starting the conversation, when you suddenly sit up a little straighter and look right at him.

“You should read my report, see if it’s the story we want to go with or if I need to make any changes.” You say pointedly, your eyes meeting his. He looks surprised that you’re speaking to him. After a moment of silence, the two of you awkwardly staring at each other, you reach across the space between the two of you to pass him your laptop. He meets you halfway, reaching out to grab it, and then settles back into his seat. You watch him carefully as he narrows his eyes at the screen, reading everything that you’ve spent the last hour working on. You tried to keep it simple. You wrote the full truth of what happened in the lab, explaining what you did that triggered the release of the chemical into the air and how the two of you destroyed the entire facility before leaving via motorcycle afterward. The lies only start when you get to the point where your conference call with Banner and Stark ended. That’s where you write that you and Bucky locked yourselves in separate bedrooms and remained separated for the rest of the night. It's not a very long report, so why it’s taken Bucky more than three minutes to read it is beyond you.

“What do you think?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He stares at the screen for a few more seconds before tearing his eyes away from it and looking over at you.

“It’s fine.” It’s the first time you’ve heard his standard grumpy tone in more than twelve hours. You should feel relieved that he’s acting like his usual self, but for some reason you feel bothered. You didn’t expect him to suddenly act like the two of you are close, but god, would it kill him to act like you weren’t the last person he wanted to be around?

As Bucky passes the laptop to you, he doesn’t miss the way you avoid making eye contact with him.

“So, that’s our story then.” You say matter-of-factly, saving the report and closing your laptop. You’ll finalize it and submit it after the debrief that you’re sure to have with Fury and a whole host of other SHIELD agents and admins later today.

“Guess so.” Bucky mumbles. You want to throw the laptop at his perfect face.

---

“What did you do?” Sam throws the question at Bucky with an overly accusatory tone as he enters Bucky’s suite without so much as a single knock in warning. Bucky had been unpacking his suitcase, but now he drops his folded tactical pants on the bed, turning to face Sam.

“I didn’t do anything.” He answers, though his face isn’t as convincing as his lie. Truthfully, he can’t think of anything that he did or said this morning to have pissed you off. But, in the back of his mind, he knows he did plenty of crossing the lines last night. Maybe you just thought things over in the light of day and realized that you made a huge mistake with him last night and early this morning. Whatever it is that you did between the time you both woke up and the time you boarded the quinjet for the flight home, it put you in a very untalkative mood. You were silent for most of the flight home, and then when you arrived back at the compound, you basically beelined for your room.

“Bullshit. The two of you couldn’t get along for just twenty-four hours? Actually, not even twenty-four hours, because the two of you were locked away from each other all last night. So, what did you do to piss her off?” Sam’s interrogation is the last thing Bucky wants to be dealing with right now. He wants to finish unpacking, shower your fucking intoxicating scent off of every inch of his skin that it seems to be clinging onto, and then get the mission debrief over with.

“We got along fine.”

“Fine doesn’t sound like you two.”

“Okay, we got along as well as we normally do. It was just a rough night, Sam. What do you want me to say? We were in a bad situation.” Bucky sighs, scooping his tactical pants up again and putting them away in a dresser drawer. Sam studies him closely as he moves around the room, putting away various personal items. He’d like to think that he knows Bucky well enough at this point to read his mind, but he doesn’t. Not most of the time, anyway. Maybe he’ll have more luck going directly to you and asking why you’re so off today. He knows he should give you both a break. It was probably a night filled with physical torment and anguish with that chemical compound running through your veins.

“Fine. I’m sorry, man. We really didn’t know what we were sending the two of you into.” Sam apologizes, uncrossing his arms and hoping Bucky will respond a little less defensively.

“It doesn’t matter. We made it out and now we’re back home and…it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.” Bucky mutters. Sam knows that’s about as good of an acceptance as he’ll get from Bucky, so he takes it. As he leaves Bucky’s suite, he walks the few steps across the hall and knocks on your door. No answer.

---

This is one of those moments where you find yourself wondering how the hell you ended up in a situation like this. The current situation being you and Bucky, seated in Dr. Raynor’s office. There’s a wall behind you covered with an image of tall, skinny trees. You can tell that it’s meant to be relaxing, but it just makes you feel like you’re in a pediatrician’s office that’s decorated with nature scenes to keep kids distracted from the needles and physical exams. You pick at the fraying threads on the knee of your distressed jeans, trying to occupy your mind before it occupies itself with thoughts of the man sitting next to you. Bucky sits a mere foot and a half away from you. Both of you are seated on opposite ends of the small gray couch. Why does it feel like you’re about to start couples therapy?

Bucky feels even more on-edge than you do. Dr. Raynor knows him too well. She can see straight through him most of the time, and now that he’s sitting here next to you, he’s scared to death of what she might see. His heart is racing in his chest, threatening to break through his navy blue Henley tee and dark jacket. The two of you rode here together, Bucky offered to drive as a small act of kindness, a peace offering, if you will. He also didn’t want the two of you to arrive separately and set off any alarms in Dr. Raynor’s head. She reads too far into everything. On the ride over, Bucky asked if you were still going to keep up the story about what happened three nights ago in the safehouse. You said yes, and that was that. You would both be lying to Dr. Raynor today.

“Sorry, I had a little situation I had to handle downstairs.” Dr. Raynor says with a sigh as she enters the room quickly. Neither of you turn to look at her as she closes the door behind herself and makes her way to her chair across from the couch. This is your first time meeting her. You’ve never been sent to therapy like this before. Sure, you’ve had routine psych evals, and once after a bit of a missing-in-action situation you had to go through the mandatory ten sessions with a shrink. But now? You really don’t even know why Fury sent the two of you here for this. You and Bucky have never really been close, why is that lack of closeness a problem now? “I appreciate the kind greetings.” Dr. Raynor quips sarcastically. She seats herself in her chair, settling her notebook and pen on her lap, before studying you both. You feel the tension in the air rising and Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Unsure of which one of you she’s directing the question to, you both stay silent.

“I didn’t expect your partner to be as quiet as you, James.” Dr. Raynor says, focusing her gaze on him. This relieves you a little. You don’t feel like you’re the one under scrutiny if she’s addressing at him, even though she’s talking about you.

“She’s not quiet.” Bucky huffs, tracing the lines on his vibranium palm. You’re starting to notice he does that when he doesn’t have much to say, or maybe it’s when he has a lot to say but doesn’t want to say it.

“Oh?” Dr. Raynor turns to you now.

“I don’t know why we’re here.” You answer her previous question, making sure that you don’t sound as moody as Bucky.

“The fact that neither of you can get along, and everyone that you work with knows this about your partnership, you don’t think that that might be the reason why you were sent here today?”

“We’ve been partners for two months and we’ve never been sent here before.” You point out. Bucky’s gaze is flitting between you and Dr. Raynor. He almost seems amused by the exchange. It’s a bit exciting for him to see someone else under Dr. Raynor’s microscope, and it’s especially exciting to him that’s it’s you.

“Right. So, what change happened this week that landed you both in my office?”

That’s a loaded question. You turn your head to steal a glance at Bucky but find him already looking over at you. Somehow, the two of you communicate with just a look. A look that says something along the lines of we both know what changed, but we aren’t going to say a damn thing about it here.

“Nothing.” You both say at the same time, breaking eye contact. Dr. Raynor is immediately interested in the exchange that she just witnessed.

“What was that?” She questions.

“What was what?” Bucky plays dumb, scrunching his eyes at her. She waves her pen between the two of you.

“That, that look.”

“It was just a look, doc.” Bucky lies.

“Okay, we can do this one of two ways.” Dr. Raynor straightens up in her chair, once again resting the pen on the notebook. “You both tell me what really happened on the trip to the HYDRA lab three days ago and I help you fix whatever rift it caused in your working relationship, or you continue acting like nothing happened while this thing festers like an open wound.” You kind of like her. She gets to the point, and though you don’t know her at all, she does seem trustworthy. Still, you can’t just tell her that you and Bucky slept together. That’s a fast track to getting your partnership suspended. Wait, since when do you care so much about your partnership? A week ago, you would’ve happily traded Bucky for a new partner, or even gone back to working solo missions if you were given the option to. Why does the idea of working without Bucky bother you now?

“Did Fury give you a copy of our mission reports?” You ask, drawing Bucky’s attention straight back to your face. He wonders where you’re going with this. Dr. Raynor nods slowly, analyzing you both before speaking.

“Yes, and I feel like they’re missing about twelve hours worth of details.” She responds. She’s good.

“You don’t think we locked ourselves in separate bedrooms.” You make your words a statement, rather than posing another question. Dr. Raynor shrugs.

“I think your reports lacked detail, especially compared to any of your previous mission reports. What possibly could have happened that night that would make you both want to be as vague as possible in a mission report?” Her question isn’t for either of you to answer, but you both know that she knows. You swallow hard and clasp your hands together in your lap, fighting the urge to get a running start and jump out of the window that’s on Bucky’s side of the room. “Let me pose a hypothetical. Let’s say that you both were exposed to a chemical agent that’s designed to make super soldiers reproduce. You get exposed, you both go back to the safehouse, and you lock yourselves in separate rooms like you said. Y/n, with your medical background, how long do you think either of you would be able to stay in a locked room before having to at least use the restroom? According to your reports, you locked in around 9 pm and didn’t leave your rooms again until at least 7:30 am.”

“I don’t like hypotheticals.” You retort, crossing your arms over your chest like a child. You feel silly. You know you look ridiculous sitting here with a frown on your face and your arms crossed, you know that you do. But her line of questioning is quickly approaching the truth and you don’t want to give her anymore fuel than she already has. She sees you shutting down and turns her attention to Bucky.

“James?”

“I didn’t have to pee.” He mumbles.

“You had sex.” Dr. Raynor states. There isn’t a hint of questioning in her tone now. Suddenly, the room falls silent. So silent that Bucky can hear the way your heart is pounding in your chest and the way you’ve suddenly began holding your breath.

“That doesn’t sound like something that two people who can’t stand each other would do.” Bucky responds on your behalf. Mentally, you’re thanking him. You didn’t have a single word in your mind to use to formulate a response.

“Right. But if you think about it, it does. And not only does it sound like something those two people would do, but it sounds smart, if you think about it.”

“Smart?” Bucky’s confused now. Is Dr. Raynor trying to say that it was smart of the two of you to fuck?

“Let’s say that two people who don’t get along are stuck in a situation where they have these primal, innate biological feelings to reproduce. They decide to have sex to lessen their suffering at the hands of the chemical that they were exposed to, knowing that because they don’t get along, they aren’t risking much by crossing that line together. They wouldn’t have cared if they were found out and their partnership was terminated, because they didn’t like working together in the first place. And if no one found out and their partnership remained intact, neither of them have feelings for each other so it wouldn’t matter anyway, they could continue working together like they normally would. That makes it sound like the smart thing to do, don’t you think?”

It does sound smart when she words it like that. But you and Bucky both know that it’s not an accurate representation of your situation. No, you don’t really get along and you never have, but you didn’t have sex while simultaneously not giving a shit about what happened to your partnership. All you could think about at first was how it would ruin your partnership. Then you had a night full of sex that was so good you’ve been thinking about it nonstop since, which led to you avoiding Bucky in the compound so you could give yourself a chance to stop thinking about him in such a non-platonic way. That’s what landed you here, on Dr. Raynor’s little therapy couch in her little therapy office. Fuck. It’s your fault that you’re both here.

“I’m not necessarily accusing the two of you of anything. No one knows what happened that night except for you, though I have my suspicions. I’d like you both to feel comfortable enough to tell me what happened, but if you don’t feel like you can do that right now, I’ll respect it. However, I do want to observe the two of you interacting in the field over the next few missions. Fury is sure that this partnership is the best thing he’s ever created. After reading through each of your files, I’m not as convinced.”

Great. Now you and Bucky have a babysitter.

---

After finishing your very brief and unproductive session with Dr. Raynor, Bucky drove you both back to the compound. The silence was a little more bearable this time. Neither of you wanted to talk about what had just happened in the session or about how Dr. Raynor seems to know that you fucked. When you arrived back at the compound, you went your separate ways. Bucky went upstairs, presumably to skulk around in his room until dinnertime, and you hit the gym. You gave yourself a rest day after coming back from the mission-from-hell, but now you need the high that you get from a good workout. You need it because your thoughts are still consumed with Bucky. With the way he fit so perfectly inside of you, with the way he looked at you with so much awe when you were coming undone on his cock in front of the mirror, and for fuck’s sake, the way you felt like he owned you when his dog tags were around your neck. You want it. You want him. Bad. You’ve been taking a lot of cold showers lately. Now, you’re turning to the gym to try to get him out of your system.

After a nice four-mile evening run and a core workout on the mats in the gym, you decide to take a shower in the gym downstairs instead of going up to your room and risking running into Bucky. You don’t want to ruin your current streak of one hour without thinking about him naked. “FRIDAY, play my workout playlist.” You call out as you enter the shower room and grab a clean towel from one of the shelves by the door. You sling the towel over one of the shower doors and step inside, stripping your clothes off and tossing them over the door before turning the water on. FRIDAY begins playing your playlist at full volume, which is how you always like to have it when you’re showering down here after a workout. With the music blasting and hot water streaming down your skin, you’re safe from any thoughts about Bucky. You wash away all of the stress of the day, imagining all of the bad things in your life flowing down into the drain at your feet.

Suddenly, you hear the door to the shower room swing open and then fall shut again with a resounding click. You continue lathering your skin with soap, listening intently for an announcement of some sort from whoever is intruding on your personal time.

“FRIDAY, turn the volume down to 10%.” Bucky’s voice rings out and you take a deep breath, feeling your bad mood crawl out of the shower drain and back up into your body. How dare he? His next move only further pisses you off, as your towel quickly disappears from the glass door of the shower.

“Barnes—”

“I want to talk.” He interrupts you, and you can see the silhouette of him pacing slowly back and forth through the distorted glass door.

“You have until I finish this shower.” You say through clenched teeth. “Then, I’m getting out and strangling you with that towel.”

“You’re going to get out without a towel?” You see his figure pause as your words still him.

“My naked body will be the last thing you see. You have sixty seconds.” He chuckles at your words, and you can hear the movement of him slinging the towel over his shoulder as he stands outside of the shower, clearly amused.

“Dr. Raynor knows.” He states.

“Yeah, no shit.” You say sarcastically, truly dumbfounded that he felt the need to say it out loud. Obviously, she knows.

“She’s going to be analyzing us on every mission until she confirms it.” He continues. Does he think you were totally zoned out during the session in her office earlier? You know she’s going to be babysitting the both of you in the field for the forseeable future.

“Is there a point to this conversation?” You ask, rinsing all of the soap bubbles off of your skin and watching them slip across the shower floor. Bucky audibly sighs. What is with your fucking attitude tonight? You avoided him all day yesterday. He knows you had some errands to run at SHIELD’s headquarters, so you were there most of the morning, but even when you came back to the compound around lunch it was obvious that you were doing everything you could just to stay out of his sight. He’s fucking sick of it.

“Yeah, I want to know when you’re going to stop acting like fucking made me fall in love with you.” Bucky says flatly. On the inside, he’s angry. That’s why you’ve been avoiding him, right? Because you’re scared that he caught feelings for you somewhere in the midst of all of the mind-blowing sex. That’s the only reason he can imagine that you have for avoiding him the way you have been, and for the way that you’re talking to him now. He, however, couldn’t be more wrong. You were scared that you were catching feelings. It’s why you didn’t want to say his name or kiss him when you fucked. You knew that if you did either of those things, it would feel too real. It’d be too hard to pretend it meant nothing to you.

When are you going to stop acting like fucking made him fall in love with you? Jesus, he thinks he has you all figured out, doesn’t he? You catch yourself laughing. You reach over and turn off the water. You’re just about to tell Bucky that he can fuck off with his demands to know anything from you, when you hear the shower room door open once again, followed by a set of footsteps.

“Hey, Y/n, dinner is going to be ready in—” Sam stops short when his eyes fall on Bucky, who stands outside of your shower door, holding your towel in his vibranium hand. “What’s…are you holding her hostage in the shower? Give me that damn towel, man.” You hear a soft commotion that you can only assume is the two men scuffling over your stolen towel. The towel finds its way back over the glass door, courtesy of Sam, and you quickly snatch it up, patting yourself dry before wrapping it around your body. “Dinner is ready in fifteen minutes, if you two want to eat.” Sam announces. Bucky gives him a steely look for returning the towel to you, but Sam ignores it, turning on his heel and walking out. You’re surprised that he didn’t have anything to say about the unusual situation he stumbled into here. Maybe he’s saving it for later.

Bucky’s just about to ask his question again, the one about when you’ll stop acting like he’s in love with you, when you push the shower door open and step out in front of him. Covered only by that damn towel. He wants to pretend like he’s unbothered, but the way a tent is forming in his jeans throws that plan out the window. You have an effect on him and you’re fully aware of it.

“Fucking didn’t make you fall in love with me?” You ask innocently, standing just six inches in front of him and looking up into his eyes. His eyes leave yours for a moment, his gaze raking down your body and leaving heat in its wake. He takes in your messy bun, the way the towel is so tightly hugged around your curves, and the way water is dripping down your legs. Fuck, he wants to lick every single drop off of your skin. He wants to start at your ankles and kiss, lick, and suck his way up to your inner thighs. When he meets your stare once again, you’re smirking at him. “Answer the question, Barnes.” You use a specific tone of voice this time, one that you usually reserve for seductive purposes in the field. It makes him swallow hard and you note the way his jaw flexes. Hmm, you’ve seen his jaw flex like that before. You take one step forward, closing the minimal space between the two of you, letting your towel-covered chest lightly brush against him as you begin trailing your fingertips down the right sleeve of his Henley tee. He’s temporarily frozen in place, his eyes watching the movements of your hand closely, before he quickly steps back and tsks at you. He shakes his head as annoyed look takes over his features.

“Don’t fuck with me, Y/n. Dr. Raynor isn’t here to supervise the tension.” His words send heat rushing through your body, a heat that settles in your cheeks and between your legs. You hate how the threatening tone of his voice combined with his choice of words makes you long to be underneath him again, but you’re sure he’s just playing a sick game with you. You wish the horny part of you would remember that, that this is just a fucked up game. It isn’t real. But you know what? If he wants to play this fucked up game, you’ll make sure you win it. He can act like he doesn’t want you, but his reactions to everything you do sends a different message.

You’ll just have to play this game until he admits that he wants you as much as you want him. Maybe you'll give him his dog tags back as a consolation prize when you win.

Next Part

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giuliettagaltieri · 4 months

Text

Cry of Outrage

Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Saviour

Warning: elitism, vulnerability, violence, injury, blood

Word Count: 2748

5 of 6

Y/N Swansworth-Snow.

The first thing that Coriolanus did when he became President was to give you his last name. You, his ally, his accomplice, and now, his First Lady.

The entirety of Panem celebrated with you. No, not just the Capitol. All the other Districts fell in love with the two of you. Having been blinded by your tour that was so successful, it ruined any doubts they had for the new President.

And to make it even better, the ruse between you and Coriolanus gave way for true affections to blossom.

But having the love of the said President does not mean that your marriage will be anything similar to a typical couple. You are the leaders of Panem after all.

Most of your day is taken up by meeting other politicians and studying bills to further strengthen the Capitol and subdue thoughts of rebellions from the Districts.

Your evenings are also spent attending the invitations of your supporters.

“Heavens! The party is in five hours and I have absolutely nothing to wear.” You groan in your seat as Coriolanus chuckles as he taps at the steering wheel.

This was one thing that he requested for the both of you. No chauffeurs. Not that your security is at risk when you are sandwiched between two cars loaded with the presidential guards.

The two of you had been spending your luncheon with the Plinths. Had it not been for your assistants reminding you of a party this evening, you would have forgotten.

“You should wear that gold dress I bought you last month.” He hums.

“The one with actual gold in it?” You frown. “We are only meeting the District 1 representatives, is it necessary to wear such a pretty gown?”

You stop at the red traffic light and Coriolanus turns to you, his knuckle brushing your cheek. “You’re not wearing it for them, my love.” His voice is calm but there was something about him that made you feel like he was scolding you. Of course, you try your best to keep a straight face but the way you fiddled with your seatbelt did not go unnoticed by him. “You will be wearing it for me. Always for me. Understand?”

You nod at him.

“Words.”

“Yes, Corio. I understand.”

Ever since you got married, you have somewhat changed. You are still the same calculating Y/N Swansworth, but you are more docile, easily flustered, almost shy.

“Mmh, there’s a good girl.”

His thumb caresses your cheek before focusing back on the road.

Coriolanus Snow takes pleasure in his discovery of this attitude from you. How you are the commanding First Lady in the public, and a sweet little wife to him when he has you all to himself. You did not grow out of that crush you had for him, it seems. You got better at hiding it while he was away, but in the end, you were still his, body and soul.

As you get ready in your vanity that night, your eyes scan the files of the guests that will be attending the party as you add the pigeon blood ruby earrings in your ears.

“Darling, my tie, have you seen it?” Coriolanus calls as he comes out of your shared closet. His dark red suit compliments your golden gown.

“In here.” You reply as you hurriedly put on the other pair of earrings.

You walk over to him to fix his golden tie for him.

He checks his appearance and his hand snakes to the small of your back. “You look ravishing.” He pecks your exposed shoulder. He knows better than to ruin your lipstick. He will never hear the end of it.

“You are looking pretty sharp, yourself.” You say as you look at him proudly. This fine gentleman, one ever so sought after, once the prime bachelor of Panem, is your husband.

Not everybody understands that.

And it infuriates you to no end. But jealousy can come later, in the present, you must focus on your task at hand.

As you enter the party together, you both agree on a strategy, to part ways and conquer them one by one.

“My brother is likely the one who will follow my father’s footsteps.” Says the official from District 1. His suit is a fine one, the best quality. But the clothing’s value can easily be overlooked by how the wearer parades in it. “He was always the favorite.”

You look at him in well-practiced sympathy. “I am terribly sorry. Here, have a glass of water.” You snatch one from the passing server to hand it to him. He has had enough alcohol for tonight.

He gulps it quickly and he nastily wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his beige suit, ruining it with a wet stain, you try to conceal your disgust.

“Phah!” He spits. “As if my brother is any good. He is always at his shooting range with his buddies. Always buying guns and losing them!” The man continues to ramble and you sip quietly from your flute. “I am really grateful that you are keeping me company tonight, Madame First Lady.” He suddenly grabs at your wrist, his thumb caressing your skin. Apparently, not grateful enough to observe boundaries.

You smile kindly as you place your other hand atop his. “No worries, it is my pleasure to be of some service to the people of Panem.” You gently remove his hand from yours.

He groans, throwing his head back. “You are a goddess, Madame First Lady.”

“And you are drunk, Mister Sterling.” You comment as you sip on your champagne once more, eyes scanning the party for whom you shall extract information next. But your eyes met his.

Coriolanus had his eyes on you the entire time. He was in a small group of men, all who were talking animatedly. Coriolanus throws in his inputs in the conversation but his eyes never stray away from you. He does not look too pleased.

You struggle to look away from him, and you discreetly attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.

“My apologies, you will have to excuse me.” You smile at Sterling and before he can respond, you are already on your feet, gliding smoothly away in utmost elegance, definitely not scurrying.

You make it to the powder room, nobody suspects you of running away when you look as if you own the place. But Coriolanus knows better. He also excuses himself from the other men and follows quickly after you.

He smiles at the people he passes but he is determined to get to where you would be right now.

And there you were, twirling in front of the tall mirror of the bathroom. It appears like the First Lady of Panem is checking herself out. Coriolanus leans by the door to enjoy the show, a sly little smirk on his lips.

You slide down your hands on your waist and you turn to observe the curve of your behind and nod. You then get closer to see your make up in a closer angle, watching for anything that is not in place.

“I was going to wait for you to finish but I cannot keep myself away for much longer.” His smooth voice echoes around the empty powder room.

The look of surprise on your face brought strange satisfaction to him.

Coriolanus stands behind you and looks at you in the mirror. His eyes shamelessly roam over your body, and by God! The dress really does suit you.

“You should let me choose your dresses more often.” He spoke silently and you chuckled at that.

“Do you find me pretty, wearing your gifts, Mister President?” You tease as you fix your hair.

Nodding, Coriolanus hooks an arm around your midriff to pull you flush against him. “Prettiest.” He groans against your nape, his hot breath sending you to a fit of giggles. “And you’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night, you understand?”

You lean against his sturdy chest and nod like the obedient girl that you are. “I have a lot of bad news for you, Corio.”

His brows pinched but he didn't let it disturb him from tasting your skin. Leaving a hot wet trail in his wake.

“Rebels?” He asks breathily.

Your breath hitches when he gently nips on your ear. “Might be. I’m suspecting smuggling of firearms. I will have my men investigate it first thing tomorrow.”

He hums in approval. “What would I do without you, wife?”

Your ego is stroked with his words and you can’t help the smile on your lips. “You would be helpless without me.”

It is a dangerous thing to say to a man like Coriolanus Snow. Provoking him and threatening his status with words will not end well. Unless it is you.

“I would crumble, wife.” He groans to your skin and pulls you closer. “I would be reduced to nothing.”

When Coriolanus speaks like this, he just manages to sink himself deeper into your heart.

“Good.” You smile. “Because I desire you just as fiercely.” You place a hand on his bicep and you rest your head on his shoulder to press a kiss on his neck. “You have a speech to make.”

Coriolanus sighs. “Just a bit longer.”

You indulge him, tracing patterns on his cheek as he inhales your scent.

Had it not been for a knock on the door, Coriolanus would have held you there forever.

He takes your hand and guides you on stage with him, his darling wife.

The music fades to a gentle melody and the crowd hushes to listen to the speech the President is about to make.

“Our gathering today is not just an event, it is a celebration of collaboration, shared goals, and the strength that comes from unity.” Coriolanus starts and you position yourself behind him with the kindest smile you can muster. “I am deeply honored to stand before a group of individuals who bring diverse perspectives, talents, and experiences.”

A man shakes his head in the corner and you watch him closely. He seems agitated, his movement jerking as he scratches at his neck, making the skin raw. He does not look familiar. He is not in the files you had.

“Your presence here is a testament to the power of coming together, the power of dialogue, and the power of collective effort.” You step closer to Coriolanus when the man leaves his chair. The peacekeepers slowly march closer to the man who glares hard at your husband. “In this room, we have a wealth of knowledge, creativity, and passion that, when harnessed, can propel us to achieve great things.” A glint from the man’s coat has you tugging Coriolnus behind you by his suit.

A resounding bang fills the air and your body freezes.

It’s wet, you feel the wetness seep your dress and you look down to see a spreading stain of crimson in your side.

Oh…the bullet did not hit Coriolanus. That’s good.

Screaming rings in the air and it is getting more and more difficult for you to stand. You feel Coriolanus’ warm hands around you, but your eyes return to the shooter. Has he been apprehended? Is your husband still in danger?

“Corio…” You whimper. “It’s not safe for you.”

He grits his teeth as he pulls at his tie to wrap it in his fist to press into your wound. The pressure had you whimpering, clawing unto his sleeve.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered against your temple. “You’re gonna be alright.”

You try to laugh but it comes out as a wheeze. “Of course, I would.”

You are in the arms of the most powerful man in Panem. No place else is safer.

The noise slowly gets muffled, something akin to your head descending underwater. The lights blur and the colors mix together. You blink multiple times just so your husband would come to focus, but your eyelids get heavier and heavier.

He was the last thing you saw before your eyes closed.

“Your daughter seems to have taken a fancy to my son.”

A loud boisterous laughter echoes. “Nothing but a harmless fascination.”

“The two of them would make a good couple, don’t you agree?”

“That is if they don’t destroy each other first.”

Coriolanus wakes from his slumber in cold sweat. He runs a hand on his platinum hair, feeling its dampness. His chest heaves, breathing labored.

What a nightmare to have at a time like this. His pale eyes search the darkness and he spots you in your marital bed. He leaves the chaise lounge to walk over to you. You have been asleep for a day now, recovering after the bullet misses anything fatal. The events last night shocked him to his core. He had never been more afraid. Not even when he saw the dead being hacked to pieces in the dark days. Or when the arena was bombed when he first mentored, and definitely not when Lucy Gray set off a snake to him.

When he saw you bleed. It unraveled all there was in him. His gut twisting, his mind in shambles. He was angry and afraid. And the self-loathing that came afterwards was almost unbearable. That bullet was for him to take, not you.

Coriolanus watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. It brings him peace to see you still breathing. Gently, he lies next to you but he was afraid he’d hurt you so he scoots lower until he faces your bandaged abdomen. He lies curled by your side and he reaches for your hand.

It’s warm, you are with him. His lips press on your pulse, you are with him.

A lone tear slides to his temple and the sheets greedily soak it in. It was one of many that he shed for you while you were asleep.

A deep shuddering breath has him sitting up. Coriolanus observes your face closely.

“Corio?”

“I’m here, my love.” He rushes to you and he smiles painfully when you open your eyes.

“Are you hurt?” You ask worriedly and he almost laughs had his heart not been teared open.

He shakes his head. “No, you saved me.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “You took a bullet for me.”

You grimace. “How’d he get that gun inside, anyway?”

Coriolanus pursed his lips. “It was planted in the area prior to the event.”

“Did you find out who he is?”

He nods at you and he pulls you closer. “From a fallen house here in the Capitol and a servant to the Cranes. He has more morphine than blood in his veins. He is being detained now, he will be executed in two days.”

You nod at him. It all falls into place now.

Hesitantly, you ask. “Him and Arachne?”

Coriolanus sighs. “Or just him.” Arachne was a true narcissist, she would have never associated with a nobody in such ways.

It is surprising how even after all these years, the ghost of the past can still haunt you. The visit from the District 1 officials must have triggered such an act.

Love really is the sweetest poison.

“No matter.” Coriolanus dismisses the topic. “I refuse to spend another second thinking about a man who dared to hurt my wife.”

You smile as you close your eyes trying to get comfortable in his arms.

“I guess you owe me your life now. I would expect more pampering as payment.” You hum and he scoffs.

You ignore the fact that this makes you even after he saved you in District 4. You will use every opportunity to exploit your dear husband.

“That is what you are concerned with? You were just shot, wife.” He spoke unimpressed but you squeezed his hand.

“I’ll get a nasty scar but I’ll live. His aim was really bad.”

“I most definitely agree.” Coriolanus nods a small grin in his lips. “That worked in our favor though.”

It frightened Coriolanus. The limit to your self sacrifice for him seems to be nonexistent. He humbles himself and prays to the gods that this will not cause your end.

You did not question when he pulls you closer. His behavior is desperate as he burns the feel of your body against him in his head.

You spend the rest of the night talking to him until your eyes turn heavy, your breath syncing together peacefully.

Hunt for Glory

#coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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mercurycft · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 — 𝐋𝐁

## lucy bronze x reader!

Hello everyone! I’ve been working on this idea for a little while.. its definitely not my best work but i really liked writing this! Enjoy! Love always- RG! x

part 1 of 2! read part two here 2,603 words - this part is mostly build-up!

MATURE CONTENT & LANGUAGE WARNING 18+

The final stretch of the last training session before a break was always the worst, ending with all the girls heaving and sweaty as they piled back into the team changing room. It was Friday, and plans for the evening were already being finalised by the time you entered the room and made your way to your usual spot. Tucked away into the corner, happy to sit down and take off your boots before you heard your name hollered from within the fuss of conversation.

"Oi! Y/L/N, drinks at 8. You get no input or choice..." The voice belonged to Mary and was followed by a hound of laughs from around the room. Drinks were never your go-to, much preferring a takeaway and crap tv in the comfort of your own home. The girls knew this, so instead of asking - they would tell. You knew better than to fight it, laughing with them and nodding before throwing the group a sarcastic double thumbs-up as you placed your boots into your kit bag.

"I'll be there, Pre-drinks at Tooney's I'm guessing?" That was always the plan, meet at Ella's and either walk or get an Uber to wherever the group had decided to spend the remainder of the night. Your question was met with a couple 'obviously's and 'you know it's from the girls, who had now dispersed around the room and started packing their belongings away. You were packed up first, as per usual, and were sat chatting as everyone finished changing. Once everyone had grabbed what they needed and conversations were stalling to a halt, everyone made their collective way through the hall and out towards the front of the building. You, Ella and Alessia led the way, arms linked and phones in hand, already discussing the 'dress code' for the evening.

By the time you had finally made it home, battling through the usual city traffic it was nearing 4pm and all plans for an unrushed evening of preparing were out the window - so after dumping your bag in the kitchen you headed straight for the shower.

_________

The next two hours were spent rushing around your bedroom and flat, drying and styling your hair before applying your usual 'going out' makeup. Next came the clothes and after 6 failed attempts at outfits you had created in your head and two stressed glasses of whatever wine you had in the fridge, you settled on wide-leg jeans and a strapless bodysuit paired with a pair of comfy heels which gave you an extra couple of inches. After packing the essentials into the ridiculously small-seeming bag you had chosen and grabbing a jacket, you were finally ready to head out the door.

The journey to Ella's house wasn't long, 10 minutes at most, and the weather was in your favour - the sun starting to set and a gentle chill creeping through your clothes just as you had arrived at her front door. Holding a bottle of cheap wine close to your side, you rang the bell and waited, soon to be greeted by Alessia and ushered inside - music was already blaring from the kitchen where a few of the girls loitered. Ella grabbed the bottle from your grasp, pouring you a generous glass and placing the remainder into her fridge. "You look fit, mate!" She exclaimed as she turned back to you and passed your drink.

"Oh stop it, look at you Tooney." You said, holding your hand out towards her and feigning a dramatic gasp, you both fell into a burst of soft laughter and moved to join the rest of the group. You said your hello's, exchanging genuine compliments and stationed yourself by the sink, bringing the glass to your lips as the doorbell chimed through the house.

"Fucking hell, Luce! Didn't want to leave the rest of us a chance to pull then?" Ella squealed exasperatedly, throwing her hands up in fake annoyance and stomping back into the kitchen. You straightened up at the mention of the older right-back, taking another sip of your drink as she emerged into the room and said her hello's.

By the time she made it to you, you were sure you could draw her from memory. Watching her closely as she worked her way across the room - you noticed how the white shirt she wore was clinging to her arms and chest in all the right places, tucked neatly into a pair of slack-like trousers which sat loosely around her ankles to reveal a pair of crisp airforce. Before you could react she was in front of you, pulling you in with a gentle hand on the back and a warm smile, giving you a friendly cheek-to-cheek kiss and hug then pulling away and moving back into the centre of the room and retrieving her own drink.

She looked good and she was well aware, which made it so much harder to look away. Having to try your hardest to remind yourself of where you are and who she was. Her glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, with her hair pulled back into her usual bun. You had always found her attractive - how could you not? She looked as if she had been carved by the Gods themselves, with smooth olive skin and muscles that put everyone else to shame.

You had always gotten along well, laughing and joking across the pitch during training. Sometimes meeting her eyes for a moment too long during conversations or humouring the lingering touches when you brushed past each other in social settings. Though nothing had ever come of it, that didn't mean you didn't enjoy the warmth of her hands on the small of your back or the way you seemed to fall into her eyes and stumble on your words when she would catch you off guard and today was no exception. You couldn't help but watch her as she worked the room, engaging in conversations.

When the last of the girls had arrived, the house was buzzing with the type of giddy excitement only alcohol could provide - everyone was a few drinks down now and it wasn't long before you were sat in a taxi heading into town.

_________

10pm rolled around and the drinks were flowing, empty glasses scattered across the table which a few of the girls sat around. Some were stood at the bar, ordering the next round and a few more occupied a section of the dancefloor. You, however, found yourself perched on a bar stool with a drink in hand, ear forward as Lucy told you a story about one of her former teammates. Trying your hardest to pay attention, but too focused on how close together you were.

You could feel her breath on your ear as she tried to speak over the music that rattled through the room. Her hand was placed just above your knee for leverage as she leaned over you and it was all you could think about. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, disorientating the logical side of your brain which tried to scream through the cloud of subtle arousal that sat heavy behind your eyes. 'This is so unprofessional!' you were aware and you knew deep down this could ruin you - but the sweet smell of her skin was intoxicating.

Your train of thought was interrupted as your eyes refocused, grounding you back into the moment. Realising she now stood away from your ear, instead looking at you with raised eyebrows and a slight smirk across her lips. shit. caught red-handed. You stiffened when she leaned back towards your ear, "Am I boring you Y/L/N? Did you even hear what I said?" You hadn't. but she wasn't asking, she was taunting.

She watched you struggle for an answer, pure amusement plastered across her face. Putting you out of your misery she leant back in, this time pushing you further into your pit. Lips pressed cautiously against your lobe, "Strike one, darlin'." She muttered and you were sure you could feel her smirk against your ear before she departed entirely and you lost her in the crowd of bodies around you. strikes? what strikes? You wondered silently to yourself, bringing your drink to your lips as your eyes scanned the dark room but she was already gone.

_________

An hour later you found yourself on the dancefloor surrounded by your friends, who were all individually butchering an Amy Winehouse classic. As the song wrapped up to an end, you were pulled into a loose group hug - maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was just the love you felt in that moment, but you couldn't explain the warmth that coursed through your veins as you looked at your people.

Before long a new song began, a low beat bounced off the walls and wrapped around the bodies on the floor. You didn't know the song but remained with the girls, swaying to the beat and laughing at some of their horrific dance moves. As the song hit the chorus you and Mary gravitated towards each other, dancing and laughing as you stood in front of her and attempted an awful twerk and grind move to the beat with her hands placed firmly on your hips. Both of you played into your roles, spilling your drinks as you did so and adding to the already sticky floor.

It wasn't unusual for the team to dance like this and it was very rarely serious when one of you was pressed back up against another, but today it felt different. One specific set of deep eyes stayed locked on your movements as Lucy watched from the opposite side of the group, tongue rolling along the inside of her teeth when you finally made eye contact from your compromising position. Through the darkness you could see her lips moving; she was talking - or at least mouthing something towards you. You couldn't connect the dots until she lifted her hand in front of her, showing you two fingers. "Two strikes."

What would happen at three? And why were you excited to find out?

_________

It was nearing 11 now and you stood at the bar, almost too close to a woman you had just met - sipping the fruity drink she had ordered you. Normally you would think twice about talking to someone at a bar, but tonight’s circumstances made it a thrilling game and you couldn’t wait to play. You knew she was watching, feeling her eyes bore into the back of your head but paying little attention while you focused on the task at hand. Lucy was standing a few feet behind you, between Ella and Leah who were trying to talk over the music. Lucy wasn’t interested though, her attention fixed on you and your new friend. Gripping her drink so tight she was sure it might shatter as she watched you lift a sly hand up and rest it on the stranger's shoulder. Lucy couldn’t pinpoint the feeling, internally confused at the sudden jealousy that burned deep in the pits of her stomach. Just as you were starting to think she had lost interest, a body was pressed to the side of you, pushing a wedge between yourself and the woman whose name you couldn’t even remember.

The game was no longer fun when Lucy ushered you around the room to say your goodbyes, excusing you both from the function. A few of the girls started to protest but she was quick to respond with “Y/N’s not feeling 100%, said I’d make sure she got home okay.” And that was enough for them. She held you close as you walked out into the street, whispering a small but steady “Third and final.” as she pulled you into a waiting taxi.

_________

The pair of you didn't even make it through the front door before she pounced, your key still in the lock when she had you pinned between her frame and the door. Her hands sat heavy on your hips, eyes locked on yours. "God, you've been drivin' me mental all night.." she groaned, scanning your features.

"Do something about it then," You pushed. This was new but unbelievably exciting, you had never seen her like this. Before you could speak again her lips were on yours. Rough and urgent, like she was scared someone would rip you right out of her grip. "Inside," You managed to mumble against her lips, unlocking the door and pulling her inside - not wasting any more time to attach your lips together again.

This time was different, a rage of hunger alight in the depths of your stomach. Your hands sat on the nape of her neck, lacing through the small amount of hair that had fallen from her bun throughout the night. Her hands couldn't settle, exploring your figure and fisting at the fabric that separated skin from skin. Somehow during this you had travelled through the hall and were now fighting through your bedroom door, shoes and jackets kicked off and discarded around the flat - highlighting your erratic path.

Once inside the safety of your bedroom, things seemed to slow. The initial hunger and speed now dimmed into lust. Yearning. She pressed rough but calculated kisses down your jaw, lingering below your ear for a moment before moving across your collarbones. The feeling made you shudder, holding her head in your hands.

She had you stripped in minutes, now pulled tightly against her in your underwear. "Jesus Christ Y/L/N are you trying to kill me here?" She murmured, thumb caressing the lace across your chest, tracing the shapes for a second before her eyes met yours. A moment passed and you were growing impatient, inhaling deeply when the pad of her thumb found your nipple through the thin fabric and circled gently. You could tell she was enjoying this, watching you shift your weight from side to side as she slowly broke you down.

"On the bed." You were quick to obey, laying down in front of her - on display. She made her way towards you, situating herself above you and lifting your legs to bend and sit beside her hips. She kissed you deeply, hands latched onto your thighs. The world seemed to melt away around you and all you could think about was the throbbing between your legs.

"Need you," You managed to croak out, hands pulling at the fabric of her trousers - desperate for some form of friction. She let out a cocky scoff from above you.

"I'm not sure you deserve it, love. Haven't been behaving, have you?" She spoke rhetorically, tutting and raising her hand to toy with your bottom lip. "And only good girls get rewarded.." She added lowly as her hand travelled down from your face, tugging at your bra and moving to take your nipple into her mouth. You let out a small moan when you felt the warmth of her mouth on you, legs constricting around her and your back arching into her touch.

You writhed beneath her as she moved between left and right, her hand now finding its way to your underwear. She had two fingers pressed against your clit through the fabric, letting out a soft hum against you when she felt your arousal through the barrier. "Got you all wet for me, hm?"

"Please," You whimpered, lifting your hips up towards her hand. Desperate for some relief for the ache, eyes glassed over with desire.

"Begging for it already and I'm only just getting started. What a shame.."

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unforth · 6 months

Text

I had a day off yesterday.

And I can already practically hear the assumptions that such a statement is prompting the reader to make. Those assumptions are wrong. I don't mean I didn't work. I did, for about 8 hours. That's not at all what I mean.

I mean my wife took the kids out at 9:30, spent the night with her mom, isn't back yet the next morning.

There are things I NEED people on this website to understand about parenting. And I've talked about it before, and I'll talk about it again, because honestly the way that Tumblr as a cohort talks about parents makes me sick. Multiple polls have shown that only about 2% of people on here are parents. We're a huge minority, and we're constantly talked over, ignored, or accused of being bad parents (like, personally, I have had people reply to my comments or come on to my posts and tell me I shouldn't have my kids). In my case, being a parent means I'm almost 41, I'm married to @ramblingandpie, and our children are inching up on being 8 and 6 years old.

My entire day, and therefore my entire life, revolves around them. I'm up most mornings at 5 AM, because that's the earliest they're "allowed" to wake up, and so my brain just defaults to being awake around then - better to wake up before them, at least then I get a few minutes in the morning. Between 5 and 7, I sit with them, do my social media, work on side blogs, study Chinese. Then it's helping them get ready for school, then my wife or I or both get them on the bus, and then I work until the last possible minute, which is either when I need to go pick them up for an after school activity or when I need to go down and meet them off the bus. My afternoons are after school activities, chores such as washing the dishes and cleaning up toys, talking with them, working with them, playing with them. Their bedtime starts at 7:40, and my son gets scared if I leave before he falls asleep so I sit with him until about 8:15. As soon as he's asleep, I go fall on my face, sleep as best I can, then wake up and do it again. Overnight, it's hard to sleep deeply, because about once a week someone will wake up in the middle of the night and need help. That could be as minimal as a hug or as complex as having to completely change the bedding on a bunk bed at 2 AM while also comforting a child who is afraid they'll be in trouble, or afraid they're sick, or afraid of their nightmare, or, or, or. Further, if a child is awake, there is always noise. I usually study Chinese with two or more competing sources of noise. I read the same way. My life is loud, and active, and consists of constant interruptions.

I adore my family, and I love my children, but this is terrible for me.

I do all of this as an neurodivergent introvert. My clinical depression is at least medicated, mostly because post-partum depression after I gave birth the first time nearly drove me to suicidal in under a week (we were expecting this and were prepared, fortunately, getting help was as simple as a phone call). The constant noise and interruptions and forced socialibility are about the worst combination of home-life I could be subjected to. I spend far too many early mornings just breathing deeply and gearing myself up to be subjected to the wall of Loud, Boisterous, Needing-My-Attention that is every minute when anyone else in the house is awake.

So what did my day off look like?

I helped get the kids ready to go and did some morning chores. I'd been up at 4:30 AM so I also had already social media'd and studied. Then, while my wife finished the preparations, I started work, and I worked from about 8 am to about 4 pm, straight. I didn't get hungry so didn't bother stopping for lunch. No one interrupted me, no one asked me to look at anything they'd built, no one broke my concentration, no sounds could be heard except those I'd chosen myself.

I'd been out the day before at a local shopping street and listened closely to the things the kids said they wanted, so at 4 I grabbed a couple orders I needed to ship for work and drove to our local downtown, dropped the orders in a post box, then went back to the shops and did some Christmas shopping in the 45 minutes or so before everything closed. I think I'm basically done with what we'll get them - other bigger things will be left to grand parents - so that's a load off, I literally had a stress dream earlier this week about it being 12/24 and having forgotten to do the shopping and having to go to (oh horrors) the mall on the day before Christmas. (Reminder: I'm a Jewish atheist. It's just virtually impossible not to Holiday in the Culturally Christian Hellscape that is the US. Also, my wife is Christian. So.) Found something cute for my wife, too, even tho I already know the main thing I'm getting her. Then, I realized - one of my favorite restaurants is on that block. So. I went there. I sat by myself at a table, only the indistinct restaurant hubbub around me. I read four or five chapters of my book, and ate a savory crepe, and drank lovely fruit tea, and got a scone to-go that I'll eat for lunch today. It was more than I probably should have spent on myself - about $25, including tip - but fuck it. I only get maybe a handful of days off all year, and I'm allowed to indulge a little.

Then I came home. There were no lights on. There was no noise. I had considered doing some more merch work while watching TV on the actual television (my kids are too young for subtitled shows, so usually if I want to watch My Shows I either have to do it on my computer when they're not around, or put them on and read all the subtitles aloud while trying to keep up and process the actual meaning of what I'm reading). But when I got back, the quiet and dark was so goddamn NICE that instead I curled up on the couch and read more of my book. I did that until bedtime - still about 8:15, because I'm exhausted. Then...I went to bed. And I slept long and deep, knowing that there was no chance I'd be interrupted and woken up, I didn't have to be, even in sleep, alert to every noise and possibility that I'd be needed.

I'm still exhausted and burned out, but even one night to myself felt really, really nice.

Saying "Tumblr does X" as a universal statement is doomed to failure, but generally speaking, the parenting posts I see on Tumblr, the ones with tens or hundreds of thousands of notes, speak what's apparently widely seen as a truism on here: that unless someone wants to spend 24/7 with their kids, to be 100% emotionally available at all times, is always kind and patient and perfect, they are a bad parent, maybe even abusive. I remember when covid started, there were multiple posts actively mocking the "oh god, my kids are now home all the time, how am I supposed to do this?" attitude that a lot of parents posted in despair. WhY dId YoU hAvE kIdS iF yOu DoN't WaNt To SpEnD tImE wItH tHeM?

Look at what my usual day looks like.

Look at what my day off looked like.

Do you really think I don't want to spend time with my kids? Do you really think I don't love my kids?

But I'm not a fucking MACHINE. I'm a PERSON. That's what people on Tumblr seem to forget. PARENTS ARE PEOPLE. The same tumblrinas who post ~uwu be kind to yourself rest if you need to, you should forgive yourself for that mistake you made~ will turn around, with zero sense of irony, and post "you're a bad parent if you ever raise your voice around a child."

Expecting parents to be perfect means expecting parents to be inhuman. It also means that a parent can't be poor (can't spend all your time being the perfect parent if you have to work multiple jobs or weird hours!), can't be introverted (can't be a perfect parent if you're not completely emotional available, god forbid socializing is exhausting for you), can't be on the ADHD or autism spectrum (what do you mean you forgot to get your kid to a doctor's appointment once? what do you mean over-stimulation can make you angry? how dare you get angry at a kid!), can't be depressed (gotta get out of bed every single day, gotta always be upbeat, patient, happy, or else that's Evil), can't be (like my wife) physically disabled (what do you mean your hands hurt too much to hold a child's hand? are you denying them touch?? CRUEL). And when the only answer you can offer to that is, "if you can't be that perfect you shouldn't be a parent," then you're saying people who aren't middle class to wealthy, people who aren't neurotypical, people who aren't physically able, shouldn't have children.

And honestly...what the fuck is your problem?

I'm not perfect. I tell my kids to just leave me alone sometimes. I raise my voice, especially when one of my kids starts punching the other, but also sometimes just cause I'm exhausted and Can't Anymore. I've forgotten an appointment by accident and felt like a total fucking idiot, and I've skipped an after school activity because I just wasn't up for taking them. I've served them more unbalanced, unhealthy meals than I can count. I've made many, many mistakes, but I've also done my best, and I love my kids, and I hope that when they grow up, they'll still love me even as they recognize that I wasn't perfect, just as I've come to accept my own parents' short-comings while still loving them very much. They're people, too, and the older I get, the more I understand where they were coming from.

When I fuck up, I apologize.

When they tell me they're unhappy with something I've done, I apologize, and I try to do better. Sometimes I even succeed.

This shit is hard, yo. And it's getting harder every year.

I'm BEGGING Tumblr: you need to start seeing parents as people. The way y'all talk about parenting on here is toxic, and genuinely harmful, and frankly exhausting. You have no idea what the reality of raising kids is like, and you need to shut the entire fuck up.

I had a day off yesterday.

I might get one more before the end of 2023.

I already can't wait. I am so, so, so tired. sigh

(if you actually read this whole rant and even a single word of it resonated for you, please reblog it. I'm tired of never seeing positive posts about parenting while I see negative ones with a bajillion notes.)

#unforth rambles #parenting #momblr #nothing prompted this #i just think about writing posts like this all the time #because the low-level background buzz of how much tumblr hates parents is a constant stressor tbh #and every once and a while i tip over the line end up Writing the Thing #and so here we are again #god i have so much to do today and instead i procrastinate with this #oops

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martyfive · 3 months

Text

i lay in bed sick for two weeks straight. first there’s body temperature i never knew was possible for a human to have, then there are coughs that feel like they may be the last ones i could ever have in my life, then there’s weakness, then my five year old phone falls down from the bed ending up completely broken, then the bed sheets become something i couldn’t bear to see anymore. then i get up, go outside and unexpectedly find myself at the offer of a somewhat steady part job at this small italian restaurant we’ve been visiting every sunday sharp for the last year and a half except for these two weeks i spent lying sick in bed. we are leaving the bar for the night when R. asks me if i’d like to help her at the bar a couple hours a week.

“i have no experience or anything,” i say, feeling extremely daft. “i’m not even sure i can talk to people properly. i never really could.”

“it’s okay,” she says. “you’ll be polishing the glasses. it’s not hard. i’ll teach you everything.”

on our way home A. says, “it could be good for you, you know. being among people and trying something new,” and i feel like he’s right.

at this point this small restaurant already feels like another home i want to belong to. going there every sunday for so long totally helped with that. they have one of my works i gave them as a present for christmas on the wall. it hangs up above the table me and A. occupied the first time we ever came to eat there. the frame contains pages from a sketchbook i used to draw in while visiting italy five years ago. it feels too personal, but also somehow on it’s place. i hate to hoard the stuff i create. i want to be bolder.

regretting my life choices, i spend all what’s left from my last year’s salary on a new phone. it’s a first phone i bought without anyone’s help. it costs more than i deserve.

i can’t find any will to start drawing again after being sick for two weeks.

a couple days later i go to the restaurant to ask R. about the time i can get to work. she says, “this thursday, 6:30 pm,” and then adds, tugging on my star wars hoodie, “and put on a black shirt, if you have one”.

so i find one that looks like A. has been wearing it during his teenage years when he looked more like a stick than a human and i go for the job that for the first time in my life has nothing to do with any kind of art except the art of making cocktails i still keep messing up. a couple hours a week somehow soon turns into ten as normally as “polishing glasses” turns into “doing everything there is possible to do as quickly as possible”.

“would you like to do thirty hours a week?” R. asks one day looking hopeful as if i hadn’t broken ten of their glasses in the first five days of work.

“my back is gonna die sooner than you expect it to if i agree to that,” i answer. and it really is the only reason i don’t say yes.

i soon notice there is no time to think of anything else except the work to be done while i am behind the bar once again forgetting the difference between prosecco and chardonnay or picking the ice from the ice machine or freezing in the giant fridge while looking for the specific crate of beer everyone in this town drinks more often than water. the countless amount of crates are brought from and to the back room. the ten glasses are crushed, four of them in my own hands just from squeezing too hard on them. i cringe about every single one of them before falling asleep after coming home around midnight with my aching back and more money than i ever earned drawing pictures. i think about that one time my friend told me that once you start working in catering, there’s no way back. i haven’t talked to her in a while and i can’t ask her if she still thinks it’s true.

i still can’t draw. i guess it will pass. i still cough although i’m trying not to be loud when i’m behind the bar.

“you smoke?” R. asks. “i do. i just don’t have time.”

“i’ve been smoking since i was sixteen. but not anymore really,” i say to that. “when my mother calls me, then i smoke. but that doesn’t happen very often.”

M. laughs at that as if he understands what i’m talking about and says, “with this job, i either smoke a cigarette or kill somebody,” and i laugh with him.

M. is the chef and the restaurant is named after him. he cooks so good there is surely nothing better i’ve ever eaten in my entire life. i hear all about it from guests while picking the dishes from the tables, smiling and pretending my hands are not shaking. he and R. speak to each other in loud italian and i like how they sound even if i only understand a couple words from their dialogues.

“what’s allora?” i ask one time.

R. looks at me like i’m the only one who ever asked her a silly question like that, “huh,” she says, “i don’t know. it’s like here we go or something like that,” and she smiles.

i like talking to her. for some reason i like asking her questions and seeing the surprise on her face. she’s five years older than me but i feel like a child around her. she also has her birthday in november.

“all my family are scorpions,” she says after revealing the fact that there’s ten days between our birthdays. she names at least ten of the members of her family and all their november birthday dates in a row.

i say, “the parties must be hilarious when you all gather together.”

more often i feel like she’s my serious boss i keep disappointing with my every move but at the end of the shifts she turns into what feels more like a friend. i secretly hope i can be her friend one day even though it seems like she knows the name of every human being in this town and even some other nearby towns and doesn’t really need any more friends than she already has. but after all, i’m a part of this town now, too.

“what is your favourite thing to do here here at the bar?” i ask the other day.

she looks puzzled for a second, “maybe serving fish,” she says and this time it’s my turn to feel surprised. i saw how it’s done, and i don’t really know what she means.

“i thought it’s talking to people or something,” i say.

“nah,” she waves her hand, “it’s just my job, you know.”

i regret entering this territory but i still ask, “would you better like to do something else? some other job?”

“nah,” she says again, smiling, “i like it.”

and i like it too. horrifyingly, i like it too much. thinking about sitting at home and drawing stuff like i used to do all my life feels like a torture. it surely is one when i pick up my tablet and pencil and stare at the white canvas not knowing who i am anymore. there is nothing in my head i want to say. there is nothing my hands can do. i have no idea why. i want to go back behind the bar and ask R. what her favourite colour is.

“i’m proud of you,” A. says one night while we’re going back home from the restaurant where he got his two beers and one glass of whiskey i poured for him myself. he spent two hours sitting at the bar not far from these three teenage boys who have been drinking an enormous amount of beer and playing cards and then trying to guess where i come from according to my accent. “i’m proud that you’re doing good and you found something that you like so much.”

i buy two black shirts and jeans. i take my old black coat out of the wardrobe. i walk for two minutes from home to the bar and back looking fancier than ever. i feel happier than ever. i don’t look at my social media. i feel like this rotten sadness and loneliness that occupied my head for so long has nothing to do with my life now. i wonder if it’s just a phase. i consider finding a new therapist just to ask them if it’s okay to feel this good or i should be medicated before it’s too late. i want to go to bed at proper hour, wake up earlier, spend the day feeling good and then go to the bar and ask R. stupid questions and be stressed about the things i can control. i look at my workplace at home, at the white canvas that reflects nothingness in my head, at everything i have ever known, and i don’t know what to do.

i go back to work.

“you like it here?” M. asks almost every time. “is everything okay?”

“everything’s okay,” i say, smiling. and i mean it.

someone’s ordering an espresso at 11 pm. R. says, “tell them the coffee machine is already off,” turning it off while saying it. i laugh. i feel happy. i go home knowing there’s gonna be more work to be done tomorrow. i miss drawing stuff. i have nothing to say. i fall asleep thinking of the ten glasses i broke. in the morning, i can’t draw. i used to draw most of my stuff at the evenings and during the nights. now they are full of beer glasses and beer crates and adhd people who want an espresso before bed.

i ask myself if that really is how growing up feels like. i ask myself what i am going to do if i will not be able to draw a single piece of art ever again. i read the email of the person who wants me to draw an artwork for them. i wonder if they should know i’m an imposter who can’t draw anymore. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i go to work.

there’s a wedding at the restaurant. i once again bring what feels like an endless amount of bottle crates from the back room to the bar. i smile. i talk to people. i wipe the tables. i polish the glasses. i pour beer into them.

“my back hurts,” R. says.

“willkommen to the club,” i tell her, although for some reason my back doesn’t really hurt.

someone orders a beer and then changes their mind after the bottle was already opened.

“it’s yours if you want it,” R. says. “your shift is over anyway.”

and i stay. i sit at the bar as if i don’t really work there. i drink my beer, i talk to R. while she puts the new napkins on tables, makes sure everyone from the wedding paid what they had to and lets me ask her my questions. i pay for another beer, taking money from my fresh salary. R. rolls her eyes at that but allows me to pay anyway. she’s not a boss anymore. just… a friend. i tell her i don’t wanna go home.

“i can see that,” she laughs. “do you have friends here in town?” she asks.

i look at the bottom of my glass.

“no,” i say. there’s a lady on our street i sometimes walk our dogs together with. she’s as old as my mother. i always forget the names of her three kids although they’re all around my age. i wonder if i should mention her. “i have friends in other places. you know. not here.”

“i can be your friend here,” she says, smiling.

i feel like it’s the happiest day of my life. i’m also a little drunk on schwarzbier. even if my back would hurt i wouldn’t have noticed.

“if you need someone as me as a friend,” i say, “then. yeah. sure. uh. why not.”

we talk some more. the beer tests my language skills. i tell her i want a new tattoo. she says she got the first one when she was sixteen and it was a horrible butterfly.

“what is your favourite colour?” i finally ask.

she looks really baffled at that, then pulls out her phone. “i guess it’s red,” she says, showing me some of photos from her instagram where she’s younger than me now and is dressed up in red. “see, it looks good on me,” and she’s right. “but white is also good. and pink. and maybe purple. not black though. with my black hair, it doesn’t look good at all.”

we’re both dressed in black for work.

i come to the conclusion that colours are the least important thing in the world to her. that’s okay. i think about all the years i spent trying to make colours work. i wanna say something, but end up saying nothing.

she turns the lights off and locks the restaurant up. we spend a couple minutes walking in the same direction to our houses. i tell her about the name my friends from other places are calling me. i don’t tell her why it’s different from the one she saw on my id card. i’m not that drunk. she says she’s gonna use it from now on. she kisses my cheek before we part. i was at school the last time someone did that.

i go home. i sit at my workplace. i answer to the email of the person that wants me to draw an artwork for them from a new phone i spent enormous amount of money on. for a second i wonder if i should still tell them i’m an imposter and my career will be over by the morning when i wake up sober.

i think about the ten glasses i broke, then let myself forget about them. i tell myself to shut up and stop being dramatic.

i draw.

29/02/2024

#martyfive text #text post #text #diary

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luvangelbreak · 2 months

Text

Deprived | Twenty

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing, smoking, suggestive? word count: 3.3k a/n: this series has been longer than I anticipated but I'm living for the slow burn so it's gonna be a while till we're done folks.

pov: layla

I spent the next week couped in my room, refusing to leave as I quickly smoked the bag of weed Wes had given me. Allie had messaged me in concern multiple times and I finally built up the courage to reply to her a day after her last message.

Allie <3 Monday hey girl are you okay? matt has been off all day 1:30pm Tuesday if u wanna talk im here <3 5:37pm Wednesday im getting concerned pls message me if u need anything 3:47pm

You sorry just havent been feeling good im okay just need time alone 10:21pm

Allie <3 im sorry :(10:23pm

You its okay i'll be at school tmrw 10:27pm

Allie <3 okay! see ya then <3 10:28pm

I locked my phone and threw it lazily on the bed beside me, rolling over to face the wall where my window was cracked open. I was glad my dad was out tonight, having to deal with him for over a week straight was draining and I felt like it didn't benefit my self-loathing in any way. I sighed as my mind always travelled back to the look on Matt's face, the pure hurt in his eyes that I knew I caused.

Part of me was glad he hadn't messaged or tried to talk to me. It meant that I could push him away if I wanted to. I did just that without even consciously meaning to. I got scared and made it his fault in my brain but as I continued rotting in my bed, I realised I hurt him more than I ever meant to. It wasn't his fault that I was afraid of someone being close, it wasn't his fault that I let something so small set me off. I needed to make him realise it wasn't his fault and I was just not used to the affection and accommodation he offered me daily.

I barely slept over the past week and this night was no different. My alarm went off in the early hours of the morning and I knew I had slept a total of 4 hours from the way my brain had constantly been reeling. I dragged myself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. I took an extra long shower to attempt to rid the disgust I felt towards myself.

After scrubbing my entire body head to toe, I jumped out of the shower and walked to my room. My entire body felt heavy and I felt tears prick my eyes when I looked over to the pink sweater that was still laying over my bag. I picked it up, realising it was the only clean sweater I had since I hadn't been bothered with laundry. I quickly slid it over my head before sliding on my black sweatpants and combat boots. I slid my leather jacket over the top, not bothering with any makeup as I lazily tied my now damp hair into a low ponytail. I grabbed my bag, quickly sprayed on some perfume and grabbed my phone off of my bedside table.

I quickly exited my house without food or water in my stomach and as I began walking down the road, I decided to light one of the last few cigarettes I had pre-rolled. I grabbed my headphones from my bag, slid one into my ear and plugged them into my phone. I clicked shuffle on one of my playlists and I let my feet drag on the asphalt as I slowly made my way down the streets of Massachusetts.

After an hour, I finally arrived in the parking lot of the school and I scanned the cars, my eyes landing where I saw the familiar silver minivan. I paused, letting out a heavy breath as I collected myself and began walking to the group of people in front of the car.

Nate was the first to notice me and he just looked at me with no expression before he turned back to the group. As I got closer I noticed the fact that Mia was standing beside Matt with her head leaned on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her back lazily and I felt a pang of pure jealousy run through me. I tried to shake it off as I got closer, knowing I had no right to be mad about it right now since I was the one who caused the riff between the brown-haired boy and myself.

"Speak of the devil," I heard Nick say when his eyes caught mine and I was a few feet away, standing uncomfortably as I looked between all of them. All of their heads turned to look at me, Allie being the only one who didn't seem like they were looking right through me.

"Matt, can I talk to you?" I asked quietly as I didn't dare to meet his eyes yet and there was an uncomfortable silence that fell over us, "Please."

"About what?" he asked, his tone short and I looked up to see his face completely expressionless but his eyes held such hurt and aggravation that it felt like it cut right through me.

"Last week," I mumbled, ignoring the pain in my chest of seeing Mia looking at me with a slight smirk. I focused in on the boy I had hurt, his blue eyes piercing in the sunlight.

"Now?" he questioned, not taking his eyes off of me and I just looked at him, the judgement of his friends radiating off of them. He sighed heavily before swinging his arm out from around Mia and I felt a weight lifted off of my shoulders but there was still a pressure on my chest, "I'll be back."

I looked at the ground as he pushed away from the hood of the minivan and he walked past me. I followed behind him, not daring to look back at his friends as we walked to the back of the parking lot before he stopped to face me.

He didn't say anything for a moment as I looked up at him and he scanned me head to toe before murmuring, "That's my sweater."

"Yeah. I left it on my bag all week but I didn't have any clean hoodies for today," I explained and he hummed as I picked at the skin around my fingers, my nails too short to bite now that I had been picking at them all week. I nervously chewed on my lip before I said, "I'm sorry."

"It took you a week to say that?" he asked, his voice quiet but his words laced with pain.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I know I reacted to what you said horribly but I just-" I cut myself off as I took a breath and looked down at the gravel below us, "I haven't had anyone take care of me the way you do. It scares me. I'm sorry."

I squeezed my eyes closed, chewing on my bottom lip far more aggressively than I intended but my heart raced as I waited for his response. I felt his hand fall under my chin and he lifted my face to look up at him, noticing now that he was slightly closer to me. He used his thumb to gently pull my lip away from my teeth as I fidgeted with the hem of the pink sweater.

"Why didn't you just talk to me?" he asked, his tone softening as he looked down at me and I shrugged dumbly.

"I am bad at talking about that sorta stuff," I answered quietly, my throat closing from the sadness that invaded my body as I looked up at him. I had no right to be upset right now, I was the one who fucked up and made this so difficult, but I felt guilt invade my entire body when I realised I didn't want to push him away. It was habit and I was always bad at breaking them.

"Don't do that again," he demanded softly and I pursed my lips as I pushed my sadness down the best I could as tears sprung to my eyes, "Or I swear to god I won't talk to you again and I don't want to stop talking to you. Ever."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you away. I just don't know how to deal with everything I'm feeling and I know it's shitty but I promise I'm trying. I have no right to be sad right now because this is my fault but I feel so horrible for making you upset. You deserve so much more than that and if I can't give that to you I understand if you don't want me to be around anymore," I rambled out all of my feelings and conflicting voices in my head but I was cut off by his lips on mine.

I paused for a moment to register what was happening before my body melted into his, his arms wrapping around my lower back as I snaked my arms around his neck. I pulled him into me, missing the way his body felt against my own more than I anticipated. It felt like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in my room for the past week with smoke-filled lungs. He gripped my hips, pulling me impossibly closer to him as I tangled my hands in his hair before he pulled away to breathe for a moment.

"You're an idiot," he mumbled before he leaned back in to kiss me gently again.

"I know," I mumbled against his lips and he ran his tongue against my rough lips, the sting of his saliva hitting the open splits on my lips from chewing them. I hissed and pulled away as he looked down at me.

"You need to stop biting your lip," he muttered as his eyes travelled all around my face, "And stop picking your nails. You're not gonna have any left soon."

"I've been stressed the past week. I can't help it," I whispered as I looked up at him in awe. I had forgotten the pure oxytocin that ran through my system when I was with him and I refused to let it go again.

"Pretty girl," he gave me a sympathetic look and I shook my head as I pulled away from his face slightly, my arms still slung over his shoulders.

"Don't feel bad. This was my doing and I will make it up to you," I answered sternly and his face broke into a small smile. I sighed, the weight being lifted off of my chest now and my body tingled with joy.

"All I'm asking is that you talk to me next time," he whispered, leaning down to place a peck on my lips and I let it linger before I pulled back and nodded.

"I will try," I scratched the nape of his neck lightly and he bit his bottom lip as my face dropped, "Don't look at me like that before we have to go inside. I'll drive us back to your house right now."

"I don't see you for a week and you're ready to jump my bones already," he chuckled and I raised my eyebrows.

"How else can I make it up to you, ya know?" I joked as let my mouth form into a smirk and he shook his head as he pursed his lips, "Does this mean I can come to your game this week?"

"Of course baby," he smiled down at me and I felt the butterflies erupt in my stomach again, promising not only him but myself to never let myself ruin this again.

"By the way," I let my right hand trail from his neck to his chest, playing with the necklace that sat comfortably on his collarbones, "Allie's brother was just dropping me home. He tried to flirt with me but I shut it down. I wasn't lying about that."

"I know. I overreacted. I'm sorry about that," he said softly and I shook my head, twiddling the pendant between my fingers as I looked up at him.

"I know how it looked. I would've been just as upset. You don't need to apologise for it," I mumbled, trying hard to convey my feelings as best I could to which he didn't respond verbally. He instead placed another kiss against my lips and smiled against me as he squeezed my hips.

"Matt!" I heard Chris's voice call from only a few feet away and we both broke apart to look over at him, "You guys done? We gotta go to class."

"I forgot about that," I joked and Chris just gave me a deadpanned look as Matt chuckled.

"We'll be there in a sec," he called to his brother who just rolled his eyes and spun around to walk back to his friends, "They're more pissed at you than I was."

"I can tell," I mumbled as I watched their eyes pour directly into me, "Allie messaged me though."

"She was the only one defending you," he told me honestly and I hummed as I looked back up to him, "I'll talk to them."

"Don't sugarcoat it. You can tell them I'm a dumbass who doesn't know how to deal with her emotions," I stated and he shook his head with a smile, placing a kiss on the top of my head before swinging his arm over my shoulders.

"Come on," he said nodding towards the group and I hesitantly began walking with him by my side. Their eyes stayed glued to us as we approached and Mia gave me nothing but a scowl with her arms crossed, "Chill out. We talked about it."

"That didn't seem like talking," Mia spat and I remained silent, letting Matt handle the situation as I looked at Allie who gave me a sympathetic smile.

"Don't Mia," Matt deadpanned and she only scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "We talked about it and I don't wanna hear it."

"Only took you a week," Nate raised his eyebrows as he spoke and he looked at me. I pursed my lips while glancing between them.

"At least it happened," Matt retorted before the bell rang and he sighed, "We'll talk about it later. Let's go."

He began walking with his arm around my shoulder still and I followed suit, Chris moving to stand on the other side of Matt as everyone else followed behind. We made our way to our classes and once we sat down, a weight fell back on my chest.

Not only did I have to make it up to Matt, I had to win back his brothers and his friends.

+++

Pretty boy where did u go?? 12:23pm

You 🚬 be there in a minute 12:24pm

I locked my phone, sliding it into my pocket as I finished off my cigarette, throwing it onto the ground before I wedged it into the ground with my boot. I made my way back inside and straight to the cafeteria where I saw the group of friends sitting together.

"Hey," Allie beamed as she scooted closer to Mia to make space between her and Matt for me to sit. I smiled at her as I swung my legs over the bench and sat down. Matt placed his arm around my lower back as he continued his conversation with Nick.

"I don't want to wear a tie. That's why I got the red shirt," Matt groaned and Nick gave him a deadpanned look.

"It's prom. You're supposed to look fancy with a tie," Nick stated and Matt ran a hand across his face.

"We're all wearing a tie. Don't be a bitch," Nate pointed out and I tuned them out as Allie tapped my shoulder to gain my attention.

"You okay?" she asked quietly and I nodded with a hum.

"Yeah. Thank you for checking on me," I answered in a hushed tone and she shrugged with her sunshine smile that warmed my heart to know she wasn't annoyed with me.

"Of course. That's what friends are for," she said casually before she turned back to listen to the group conversation. I let her words hang over my head like a cloud.

That's what friends are for.

I don't remember the last time I had a genuine friend and her simple words struck me right in my heart. She had always been kind to me and from the moment we talked, she had been such a light in my life. I realised I not only wanted to share my emotions and feelings with Matt but also with Allie to show her that I appreciated her.

I wanted to be better for both of them.

"How long do we have to stay there?" Chris whined as he threw his head onto the table dramatically and Allie rolled her eyes.

"You're acting like you're being held hostage. If you don't wanna go it's fine," Allie responded, her tone quietening at the end and I could sense the slight sadness at Chris's distaste for prom.

"Al, I told you I'm going and I'll stick to that. I just don't wanna be there for five hours," he lifted his head up to look at her and she shrugged, eyes glancing at the table.

"We can leave early and go back to my house," she offered and Chris's mouth broke into a smile as he nodded.

"Works for me," he said triumphantly before sitting up again, resting his elbows on the table in front of him.

"How are we getting there?" Mia asked, looking around at the group and I just sat there in silence, deciding to go along with whatever plan I knew Allie had already set up.

"Meet up at my house at five thirty so we can take photos and make sure we have everything and then we will leave at like six-thirty to get to the hotel," Allie explained the plan and everyone seemed to hum along in agreement. I felt Matt's arm snake further around my back as he scooted closer to me.

"How are we getting there?" Nick asked and Allie smiled as she adjusted her ponytail.

"I got us a limo," she announced happily and Mia showed her first sign of happiness of the day as she squealed excitedly, "You guys won't drink right?"

Matt and his brothers shook their heads with a firm no and Allie turned to look at me and I shrugged, "Depends on what it is."

"Bottle of champagne in the limo?" Mia asked Allie and Allie nodded causing Mia's smile to widen.

"You're dad won't arrest us if we drink?" Nate asked, the half-hearted joke not landing well with Mia as she rolled her eyes.

"Not if he doesn't know," she pointed out with a slight smirk and Nate raised his eyebrows before nodding in agreement.

"Did you find a dress?" Nate asked, turning his attention to me as he attempted to make conversation. I assumed that in the time I'd been in my other classes and was outside Matt had talked to Nate, Chris and Nick since they weren't glaring at me anymore but they still felt slightly standoffish.

"No. I'm just gonna make my own," I explained and he nodded, his smile in a downturned smile.

"Mad impressive that you can do that," he complimented me and I gave him a half-hearted smile as Matt traced circles on my hip with his thumb.

"Thanks. I just hope I can finish it in time," I explained and I could sense Mia's disgust towards me radiating off of her but I was learning to tune her out like I had always done before Matt came into my life.

Suddenly the bell rang for our next classes and everyone began getting up. I stood up from the table before Matt spun me around and kissed my lips gently. I froze for a moment, shocked at the fact he did that in the middle of the cafeteria but I quickly reciprocated the action before he pulled away.

"See you after school pretty girl," he smirked at me before he walked away and I stood still for a moment as I watched him walk away with Nick, Chris, Nate and Mia.

"You guys are so fucking cute it makes me want to throw up," Allie rolled her eyes playfully beside me and I looked around to see people staring at me once again. I pursed my lips, my cheeks tinging red as I hid a smile and shook my head before I began walking out of the cafeteria.

tags:

@dsturniolo @chrisstankyleg @lov3bug @pinklittleflower @thatcrazybitch-69 @trinity2058 @alorsxsturn @chrizznmetswife @ilovechrissturniolo1 @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @sturnfix @lilsstvrn @sturniololol @sturniolowhore @jebbie-project-blog @jaxyy219

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chiefdirector · 5 months

Text

Breaking and Entering | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Tim blinked himself awake. Heavy with sleep he looked over to his alarm clock, mentally swearing at himself for waking up at 3:37 in the morning. He knew why though, the knowledge that they could die at any moment had been plaguing his thoughts, and now his dreams.

He knew that sleep would not come naturally for him for at least another hour. I had always been a bad habit of his. It started when he was still in the military and the constant noise and activity in the base camp kept waking him; usually he would go for a run or do some housework to burn some energy but as he shifted back onto his side, he couldn't find it in himself to leave the bed.

Soft moonlight shone through the crack between the curtains and gently illuminated the (Y/N). She had changed so much in the years they spent apart, it was as if she had lost a part of her soul. When she smiled, her smile didn’t fully reach her eyes, her laugh seemed somewhat hollow, and her demeanour was very guarded. She had begun to pull herself away from Tim’s touches as if she was guarding herself from being hurt. That had briefly disappeared though.

Sleep had restored the peacefulness that Tim had fallen in love with and for a moment, he could pretend that nothing bad had happened.

Slowly, Tim reached across to run his fingers down her cheek and for the first time since he had found her again, (Y/N) didn’t flinch at his touch.

----------

Around 6:30, Tim woke for the second time. This time he was greeted by an empty bed. For a moment, he had thought he dreamed the last days and that he was alone again. His fears faded as he heard (Y/N)’s panicked calls for him echoing throughout the house. Quickly, he grabbed his gun from his bedside drawer and made his way throughout their home.

As he made his way through the house, he looked around for any signs of what could be wrong. He didn’t look long before he saw (Y/N) looking at their backdoor. “Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?”

“The lock,” (Y/N) stood back from the door, allowing Tim to get closer. She watched as he placed his firearm down as he moved to inspect the lock. “It’s been broken. I found the door open. Someone was here last night.”

Tim reached for his gun again. “Crap. Did you check the rest of the house or did you come straight here?”

“I came straight down here, I thought you may want a coffee.”

“Right okay, I'll call 911, and you call Grey. We need to stay here until this thing is reported and added to the caseload. I highly doubt this was a coincidence.”

-----

It didn’t take long for their home to be flooded with cops. Grey had turned up first, he was still in his jogging bottoms and shirt he had been sleeping in. He had rushed out of bed to get to their house, barely taking the time to grab his gun and badge.

It had taken all the reservation he had to not burst through the front door to go find Tim and (Y/N). Instead he tried the spare key (Y/N) had given him when they had moved in and tried it in the lock. He found (Y/N) sat on the sofa, her leg shaking up and down in anxiety with Tim beside her trying to ground her.

“Thank God you guys are okay’” he said, walking into the room, “What happened? I didn’t get a lot of details over the phone.”

“(Y/N) found the lock on the back door broken. Someone had broken in. Nothing valuable has been taken, not that we could think of anyway. However our cabinets have been gone through. I think they were looking for something. And if they didn’t get it, they’ll be back.” Tim said, moving away from his wife and towards Grey. As he got closer, he lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. “She’s been like this since she called you. I think she blames herself.”

Grey hummed in agreement. There had been many times where he had talked (Y/N) out of a spiral of self-loathing and distress. He also knew from these times that it was sometimes better to let herself start to calm down alone. “I saw you had a camera doorbell. Did it happen to catch anything?”

“No,” Tim sighed, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “I checked. It was disconnected. I don’t think it’s unrelated.”

“You’re right to not write it off. I’ll mention it to the detectives.” As of one cue, the sound of car doors slamming echoed from the street and into the house. “Both of you, take the day off today. You’ve got a lot to deal-“

“No.” (Y/N)’s head snapped up. “I need to go in. This is my mess. I’m the reason this happened. I need to be there to stop it.”

Grey sighed, “You know we have a whole team working on this. You need to take care of yourself. We’ll have a unit placed outside so you needn’t worry. You’ve had an eventful start to the day, take the time you need to rest.”

(Y/N)’s eyes hardened in a way neither man had seen before. She almost looked like she had been possessed by the personification of rage and determination. “I’ll rest when we catch this sorry son of a bitch.”

——-

“I’m worried about her,” Tim said to Grey after the detectives had taken his statement of events. “She’s changed.”

“It’s been a long time since she’s been home, Tim. Of course change will have happened.”

“You saw what she was like earlier. It was like a switch flipped in her mind. Who knows what she went through all that time, what she did to survive. She doesn’t talk about it; I asked once, I got no response. It was as if she left reality.”

Grey looked over to (Y/N) and then back to Tim. “Do you not think that she should be working this case.”

“No, it’s giving her something to focus on… and the closure may help her.”

“And what if it doesn’t.”

“Well that’s what I’m here for. I’ll always make sure she finds her way home.”

Part Eleven | Part Thirteen

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie imagine #the rookie #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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lovelynim · 1 month

Text

Take 9, recording!

ALIEN STAGE/Actors!AU - Ivan x Till

A/N: Really, really self-indulgent fic because I NEEDED to get some fluff after the damage Round 6 did to me. Also, I added a little hc that TIll is an experience actor while Ivan is still a newbie, etc, etc, you know the drill

Also, tagging @blobbirobbi, @norieoncrack and @vash-yuu because you three gave me the boost to do it this afternoon. Also tagging @tiredleekaz because i feel you'll like this (hopefully)

Summary: Round 6's recording site. Stage scene. Take... 9, sigh. Lights, camera... action!

Word count: 1305 words.

“Alright, let’s do it, guys!” The director shouted and the rest of the team promptly took their places. The camera pointed towards Till and Ivan as the studio was quickly engulfed by silence.

“Here we go… ‘Cure’, stage scene, take 9. Action,” the director commanded and the first beats of the song began to play right after. The spotlight turned to Till and, so, it began.

“Allow me, to the tip of your fingers. Allow me, to the ends of your feet.”

Ivan quietly hummed the song along while the cameras tilted around the other man, capturing the crowd’s motion in the background while Till’s voice took all the room in the studio. Ivan knew the team was tired and probably beginning to feel a little frustrated after a couple of mistakes, but he couldn’t help but enjoy every moment of it.

“Dissolve me in your gaze. I don’t want to let you go.”

‘Damn, he looks so cool right now’, Ivan thought as a smirk took place in his lips. The song went on and Ivan knew he had to focus. This was supposed to be a dramatic, emotional, tragic scene. He couldn’t be booping to the song they spent hours recording. Focus, Ivan, focus!

As Till continued to sing, Ivan decided it was a good time to rehearsal his lines. Maybe this would put him back in the right mood for this scene and, after all, he didn’t want to start the 10th take because he made the same mistake from 4 takes ago.

“Let me drown in you, until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time!”

Wait, was he at that part already?

Ivan opened his eyes and looked at the other guy with a slightly shocked expression. Gulping, he clenched his hands as he heard the piano keys starting to play in the background again. Time to shine, Ivan.

With heavy steps, Ivan walked towards his microphone. The camera was tilting right above him and it was a bit hard to keep a straight face, but he had to!

“Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes.”

Carefully and gently, Ivan took his hands up and wrapped his fingers around the microphone. Holding it tightly, one word after the other left his lips and, as scripted, he was singing.

“May they linger on your tongue. You can break me apart.”

Narrowed eyes stared back at the camera in front of him. To the ones looking from the outside, Ivan seemed like the most confident actor in history, literally living up to his character. But on the inside, he couldn’t help but feel some nervousness stirring up. What if he sang the wrong line? What if he looked ugly on the recording? What if his voice cracked?!

No, it wasn’t time to think about those things. He managed to look at Till with the corner of his eyes and, even when he was idling, the sorrowful, tired look continued to stick to his face. So professional!

“Sick of those nights to come, to be engulfed by silence in your gaze where I’m seen. Consume me! Yes, me, oh oh!! ~”

Ivan would only be sure once they were done recording this scene, but he was almost 100% he nailed this part. He could feel his vocal chords slightly tiring, but nowhere near enough to make him stop.

And above anything else, the most important scene of this episode was coming up. The kiss.

“To this everlasting moment.”

“Face to face we dance.”

Ivan let out a small sigh as his last line was sung. Just as the words left his lips, the pages of the script started playing inside his head. ‘With a decisive move, you throw your microphone aside and walk to him’, he remembered the director explaining, detailing how it should be done.

“With our story lost in forever’s embrace!! ~”

Ivan felt literally chills running up his back when his eyes met Till’s. As a newbie actor, starring with someone as experienced as him was always an emotional rollercoaster, full of surprising moments that he would treasure forever. But not now. Now, he needed to focus.

Gently reaching for the other guy’s cheek, Ivan moved his hand to the back of Till’s head and pulled him into a kiss.

Part of himself questioned if he was supposed to enjoy recording this part over and over as much as he was doing, but knowing how annoyed the rest of the studio’s staff was at his mistakes, he would never voice such thoughts.

The instrumental played along with the flashing lights above them. Ivan only remembered the instructions that he should make the kiss last while Till would try to shove him away, but the director never said how, so there shouldn’t be much harm in improvising a little, right?

Ivan wrapped his free hand around Till’s slim torso, resting his fingers just below the other’s ribcage. Till pressed both hands against his chest, trying to push him away like the script told him to, but Ivan knew this wasn’t the lead to let him go, so he pulled the other man for another kiss.

However, there was something off.

He was told that, yes, Till was going to try to break their kiss and free himself, but it shouldn’t be… this effective, Ivan thought. Deciding that it would be better to just play along, Ivan moved his hand down to Till’s neck while the other pressed a little harder against his side, hoping this would be enough to keep him still to the end of the scene.

But with barely seconds before the time for the score to pop up above their heads and show his character’s demise, Ivan noticed that Till… was laughing?

“Pfft- d-duhuhude!” TIll giggled, elbowing his arm in another attempt to free himself from his embrace. “Q-quit tihihickling, ahaha!”

“H-huh?” Ivan blinked, looking down to the little space between their bodies and taking a few seconds to realize what the other guy meant. “Wait, you mean this?”

“GyAHah, y-yes! Thahat, d-don’t dohohoh it! I’m tihihicklish there!” Till laughed, throwing his head back (and maybe trusting a little too much in Ivan’s strength to hold him in place).

A fuzzy, warm feeling spread over Ivan’s chest as he heard those words. What a wonderful discovery! How could he not notice this before?! “Ahah, sorry… I mean, I didn’t expect this or this to be enough to tickle you, Till, ~” Ivan teased, carelessly spidering his fingers against Till’s side and ribs.

Before he realized, there were them again: fooling in the middle of the set. Till laughing, desperately trying to escape his hug while the only worry inside Ivan’s mind was to find where else his senior would be ticklish.

“Ivan! C’mohohon!” Till laughed while the lights of the studio turned back on, illuminating the whole scene again as this take was already beyond salvation. “I cahahan’t breheheathe!”

“Oh? But you are-”

“Guys!” The director protested, making the duo stop in the middle of the scene with a surprised look on their faces. Right, they were recording. And with people around them. A lot of people. “Sigh, let’s take a break, yeah? Five minutes, everybody.”

Despite the feeling of animosity towards them that seemed to spread across the rest of the staff, Ivan couldn’t stop himself from smiling and, much to his delight, the same seemed to go for Till.

“S-sorry, ahah, this one is my fault,” Till giggled as he got back into his own feet, rubbing his side where Ivan just tickled him. “Try to just, hmm… Hold my face?”

“Got it, I will keep that in mind,” Ivan hummed happily while walking off the stage by TIll’s side. Well, guess they couldn’t do much but wait for the next take now, right?

#alien stage #alien stage tickling #ivan #till #ivantill #lee!till #ticklish!till #ler!ivan #tickle fic #alien stage au

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toasttt11 · 3 months

Text

confessions

November 17, 2023

Lex ignored the look she knew was coming from Rutger and continued tying her skates.

“You know you can’t ignore him forever right.” Frank leaned over from where he sat in his stall next to hers whispering, Lex looked up glaring at him making Frank put his hands up in defense.

Lex finished her skates and stood up slipping on the rest of her gear and putting on her number four jersey with her embroidered A on it, and headed with her team as they headed towards the rink.

“Can we please talk after this.” Rutger softly whispered to Lex as he caught up with her. He knew she’s been ignoring him for the last week since they almost kissed.

Lex looked over seeing Rutger looking like a kicked puppy and nodded agreeing to talk before they focused on the game.

Lex was passing the puck across the ice to Rutger who took the onetimer as Lex watched him get smashed into the boards, and it felt like time stopped as she watched the way his stick slowly drop as he crumpled to the floor.

Lex barely remembers moving before she was on top of the player who had hit Rutger and she could feel the blood on her knuckles as she hit him straight across the nose before she was pulled off.

Lex stood with her team as they watch Rutger get loaded onto the stretcher in obvious pain and hurried out of Yost.

“You good to play.” Jacob mumbled to Lex knowing how she cares for Rutger.

“Let’s kick their asses.” Lex looked at her captain, determined for Rutger, for Dylan and for Mark who were both injured as well in this game.

And Michigan did just that. Lex getting the winning goal, making them win 6-4.

Lex quickly rushed a shower and changed into a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt and saw almost all of her teammates getting dressed quickly to go see Rutger.

Lex silently handed the keys to Frank not sure if she wanted to drive this emotional and knew Frank would understand.

Lex looked out the window not even noticing they had got to the hospital until Frank gently nudged her arm, her head snapped up and saw they were there.

The whole hockey team met up with Rutger’s parents and sister as Rutger was with the doctor getting everything checked over and figuring out what the problems were.

Lex sat down next to Molly having always been close to her and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze and Molly leaned her head on Lex’s shoulder sniffing worried for her brother.

It felt like forever before the doctor finally came out, “Good news your son is okay,” the words brought sighs of relief across the room, “Bad news he does have a punctured lung and broke rib.”

Cindy and Jim took in a sharp breath worried for their son.

“He should be awake in the morning and we given him meds to sleep through then night to start his body healing faster.” The doctor finished and excused themselves.

Rutger’s parents and Molly went into the room first spending a few minutes alone with a sleeping Rutger, before they gestured for the team all to squeeze into the room.

They all spent a few hours all huddled in the room all worried for Rutger, before Cindy told most of the team to get back to school and get some sleep. Cindy got all of the stubborn boys to head back but Lex was even more stubborn and she stayed in the chair in the room.

Frank rested his hand on her shoulder, “Want me to take you car back?” He leaned down to one of his best friends.

Lex nodded and handed her keys to him.

Cindy had Jim take Molly home wanting them to get a goodnight sleep at home.

“You care a lot for my son?” Cindy looked over at the girl she knows her son has been in love with for years and she seen her grow up.

Lex looked up at someone who’s always felt like another mother to her and knew she couldn’t lie, “I always have.” She admitted the truth.

“I know.” Cindy smiled softly having seen how much Lex has taken care of Rutger over the past few years, “He loves you, you know.”

“I know.” Lex soflty nodded knowing how much Rutger cares for her and some days she feels as if she doesn’t deserve all his love.

“Give him a chance.” Cindy softly squeezed her hand and sent Lex a motherly smile.

“I plan too.” Lex soflty smiled as she looked at sleeping Rutger and felt some tension come out of her shoulders seeing him peacefully sleeping even though he is badly injured.

November 18, 2023

“Mom?” Rutger groggily spoke feeling her hand brush his hair as he slowly woke up in the hospital bed.

“Hi honey.” Cindy McGroarty smiled softly down at her son who gave her the scare of a lifetime, “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Rutger softly muttered back, “Where’s Mols and Dad?”

“I sent them to get something to eat.” Cindy replied, “Your teammates were all here last night but they had to go back to get some sleep, expect one wouldn’t leave the whole night and stayed with me.”

Lex was curled in one the hospital chair with a blanket draped over her, Rutger smiled softly seeing her. Cindy smiled at her son’s smitten look and knew the two would get together eventually.

A few hours had went by and the doctor had come in to talk to Rutger.

“How long am i going to be out?” Rutger desperately questioned knowing the World Junior Championship is in a few weeks.

“Six to eight weeks, depending on how fast you heal.” The doctor informed him.

Rutger head dropped and he could feel the tears fill his eyes realizing he most likely won’t be able to play, Lex frowned grabbing his free hand squeezing it tightly.

Rutger took a shuttering breath leaning his head back onto the pillows, he squeezed his hand.

His parents and sister had walked out of the room to talk more with doctor out of the room.

“Do you think i’ll be able to play?” Rutger choked out looking at Lex, his face covered in tears and the saddest frown on his face.

Lex looked at Rutger feeling her heart break seeing how devastated he is, “I think you will.” Lex had a feeling Rutger would heal in time to he able to play.

November 20, 2023

Lex went to her classes when she woke knowing Rutger was coming home today and she made sure to grab all his work as they have almost every class together.

She drove over to his parents house and knocked on the door, Cindy smiled at her as she opened the door, “Lex come in!”

Lex smiled waking in, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders, “How’s he doing?”

“Good today, think he is happy to be home.” Cindy smiled walking her down to Rutgers room, “He is pretty out of it today and been sleeping most of the day.” She opened the door to Rutger’s room and he was fast asleep in the middle of his bed.

“That’s okay, i just wanted to check on him and i brought his work so whenever he’s ready to start working on that.” Lex smiled and opened her backpack pulling out the work for Rutger and set it on his desk.

Cindy stayed at the door smiling at Lex, Lex walked over leaning down pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before leaning up and walking back to the door.

“You can stay you know.” Cindy smiled soflty at her.

“Thank you but i should probably get back to the house and get some work done before practice later.”

“Alright, Let me walk you out.” Cindy walked with her to the front door, Cindy pulled her into a gentle hug, “Thank you for coming.”

“Course.” Lex smiled back before pulling away and waking to her car.

November 21, 2023

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Cindy asked Lex as she walked through the door.

“Really it’s not a problem i was gonna spend the day with him anyways.” Lex reassured her with a smile.

“Thank you really.” Cindy had gotten an emergency at work she had to get to and Molly was in class taking an important test and Jim had to go into work as well. Cindy knew Rutger was supposed to be not alone for a little while and she trusted Lex, “He was sleeping when i checked on him last, and thank you again.” Cindy rushed out the door.

“It’s not a problem.” Lex smiled before heading down the hallway to Rutgers room in his parents house, the door was open and she could see Rutger kinda sleeping but not fully asleep.

Lex stepped in and set her backpack on his desk and unzipped it pulling out the gift she got Rutger. Lex walked over and gently sat on the edge of the bed as Rutger’s eyes were fluttering open.

“Ollie?” Rutger mumbled with a goofy smile.

“Hey pretty boy.” Lex smiled soft brushing his hair off his forehead, “How you feeling?”

“Good.” Rutger slowly nodded before nothing something in her hands, “What’s that?”

“Uh I uh thought you might like it.” Lex rushed out setting the snow white teddy bear next to Rutger.

“It’s cute.” Rutger picked it up feeling how soft it was before looking at Lex seeing how she was avoiding his eyes and felt his heart clench in fondness for this girl, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Lex cleared her throat, “Your stuck with just me for the day, your mom had to go into work.”

“And you came over?” Rutger titled his head looking at Lex for an answer.

“I uh planned to come over anyways and i uh got your work so you wouldn’t be behind.” Lex simply explained fiddling with her finger not enjoying how nervous she felt.

“You do care for me.” Rutger teased with a smug smiled.

Lex took a deep breath and looked up towards him, “Of course i do.”

Rutger’s eyes widen and he tried to lean up towards her, “Woah relax!” Lex quickly put her hands out stopping him from moving and made him stay put.

Rutger ignored her words and looked at her, “You care for me?”

“Of course i do Rut.” Lex softly admitted leaning closer to Rutger.

Rutger slowly breathed out in disbelief hearing the words he’s been waiting for and gently brought his hand up to cup her cheek, he smiled as Lex leaned into his touch.

He gently pulled her chin down to him, “Can i? Please?” Rutger breathed out desperately looking up at her for permission, to do the thing he’s been dreaming up for years.

Lex nodded and leaned forward connecting her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Lex gently pulled away leaning her forehead on Rutger’s forehead.

“Took you long enough.” Rutger softly chuckled teasing her as he pressed another kiss to her lips.

“Whatever.” Lex fondly rolled her eyes.

“Lay with me.” Rutger looked at her with his puppy eyes making her nod and slowly lay next to him and rest her head gently on his shoulder.

“Will you let me take you out of date?” Rutger softly questioned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I could be persuaded.” Lex quipped back with a small smile.

“Oh i see how it is.” Rutger laughed feeling Lex let out a chuckle, “How about being my girlfriend?” Rutger nervously asked.

Lex’s eyes widen and she quickly sat up looking at Rutger, “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Rutger softly nodded nervously looking at her.

“Are you sure?” Lex softly questioned.

“Alexandra Zegras i would very much like to he your boyfriend if you will have me?” Rutger gently grabbed her hand and looked at her as he spoke.

“Ok, Yeah, Yes!” Lex breathed out smiling leaning over to let Rutger kiss her again.

Rutger fondly cupped her face and smiled kissing her again.

They pulled apart resting their foreheads together and smiling at each other.

“Took you long enough.” Rutger softly teased his now girlfriend.

“I know.” Lex nodded softly pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m sorry.” She nudged her nose to his.

“It’s okay, i’ll always wait for you.” Rutger softly cooed cupping her face in her hands, he knew she hadn’t been ready in the past and was more than willing to wait for her to figure out her feelings.

“Thank you.” Lex pulled back and laid back down next to Rutger laying on his shoulder and was playing with his fingers.

Rutger could feel himself slowly falling asleep and before he knew it was fast asleep. Lex wasn’t far behind and fell asleep.

Cindy came home a few hours laters and walked into the quiet house down the hall and peaked into his room seeing Rutger and Lex cuddled together both peacefully sleeping looking content in each others arms, Cindy smiled fondly and quietly walked over to the bed and pulled up the blankets over the two and quietly walked out and closed the door behind her.

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hesawifebeaterdanusethegun · 3 months

Text

The Scientific Method

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

A few weeks had passed since he spent the night at Kat’s apartment, and since then he’d walked her to and from work each day, insisting on it when she’d told him she felt guilty to be putting him out so much lately. She didn’t argue too vehemently to begin with and quickly acquiesced, appreciating the safety that came with not walking alone, something she’d had increasing trouble with since the incident. She also enjoyed her time with Daniel and appreciated the side of him she got to see outside of work. As the days went on the two only grew fonder of each other.

He had decided that today he’d tell her everything. He’d anguished over it for weeks, when was the right time? Was there a right time? They walked to work quietly. She could tell something was bothering him but wasn’t sure how to ask what it was. Their silence still wasn’t uncomfortable all things considered. Daniel had always made her feel comfortable, and it was hard for her to believe that his presence often had the opposite effect on people. She felt sorry for them that they never got to know the man she was getting to know.

“Kat, could you cancel all my appointments for today? I have something very important I need to take care of.”

“Of course, I’ll take care of it as soon as we get inside.” He thanked her.

They had arrived at their destination and were heading through the lobby to the lone elevator in the center of the far wall. They greeted the operator as they got in, heading as always to the third floor. When they arrived, Kat headed straight for her desk to take care of the doctor’s appointments for the day, wondering what could be so important. About an hour later he emerged from his lab. What she didn’t know was that he’d sat motionless at his own desk for the last hour, panicking over how he was going to tell her all he needed to tell her, to make her understand, and to make her believe him. He knew what he had to say sounded crazy, and that most people would think he needed to be locked up if he told them his story, but Kat was different. She understood him in a way no one else did, she knew he wouldn’t lie to her or play a joke on her like this. It was now or never. He approached her desk.

“Kat, would you mind joining me in the lab?” he asked timidly.

“Sure. Is everything okay, Daniel?” she eyed him curiously.

“No, it’s not, but I hope it will be,” he answered quietly. If he hadn’t been looking at her, she would have thought he was talking to himself. She rose and came around her desk to face him. She took his hand and he flinched. She dropped it immediately.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no need to be sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m just stressed. I apologize for not being myself this morning.” They walked together to the lab door, Daniel holding it open for her to enter. He moved to the coffee pot he kept near his desk without asking if she’d like some, pouring two cups, preparing hers with one cream, two sugars, just how she liked it.

“Please, sit,” he said, handing Kat her cup of coffee. She complied, taking a sip slowly to gauge its temperature, smiling a little at the taste of the cream and sugar. Daniel knew her very well.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and began. She listened quietly, her coffee growing cold as she absorbed everything he told her: the Strangers, the City, his role in it all. He answered her questions as they came, choosing his words carefully, his heart hammering as he spoke. When he finished, he felt nothing but relief for a few moments. Now that he had told someone, anyone, it was as if a weight had been lifted from him. He’d never known how much it all weighed on him until he’d found something better. He finally wanted something more than just mere survival, and the thought of ruining it scared him more than the Strangers ever could.

When he’d completed his tale and answered all of her questions, they sat in silence for a while, his mind racing with thoughts of losing the only person he cared for in the hell he lived in, hers struggling to understand and believe everything he’d just told her.

“I think I need some time to think about all this,” she told him, more calmly than either of them felt.

“I understand,” he told her, his voice tinged with sadness. He’d known she would probably react like this. He was actually surprised at how calm she’d stayed while he told her that her entire past wasn’t actually hers, wasn’t real at all. He wondered if he’d ever see her again after this. He hoped beyond hope that he would. Daniel knew he would wait as long as it took, for her he’d wait forever if he had to.

She left the office quickly, all fear of walking alone on the streets of the City forgotten for the moment.

Empty coffee cups littered the apartment. Kat had been up for so many hours she couldn’t tell up from down anymore. Thoughts of these Strangers Daniel had told her about plagued her. She thought of her childhood, of her parents, and of losing them. She so vividly remembered some of it, it was hard to believe that it wasn’t real. Somehow she was able to view it with a certain detachment, as if she’d known it wasn’t real all along and just needed someone to open her eyes to it. And then there was Daniel. She hadn’t been in to work the last three nights, the longest she’d gone without seeing him since they’d met.

She missed him. But could she trust him? Pieces of their last conversation came back to her. He’d explained that they weren’t human, but piloted human remains like puppets in order to blend in, in case they were ever seen. He’d told of all he’d done for them, all he still did for them, with shame in his eyes.

“And you do this every night?”

“Not every night, no. A few times a week, usually. A few people each night.”

“And you’ve done this to me?”

“Not since you were brought here with the rest of us. And I never will, I swear to you.” The desperation in his voice was evident to her. He needed her to believe this, even if she believed nothing else. Needed her to believe that he would never hurt her.

He’d reached across the desk to take her hand, but thought better of it and lowered it back to his lap when he saw the fear in her eyes at what she’d learned. He longed to comfort her. She’d left soon after that and hadn’t come back. He’d driven himself mad since then with thoughts of how he could’ve handled it better, how he could have made her stay.

Daniel paced his apartment even as Kat paced hers, her thoughts focused on him. She believed him, she found, after days of thinking about it. She trusted him more than she trusted her own memories. Kat thought of how alone he must have felt all this time, the only one who knew the truth, unable to tell anyone his secret, working under the threat of (more) pain and even death. He must have been terrified. And he’d risked all that for her. Risked everything to tell her the truth. That’s how much she meant to him, and she realized he meant just as much to her in that moment. She needed to go to the office tomorrow.

The mess of his living space was a clear reflection of his mental state, he thought. He hadn’t bothered with neatness since she’d left, it wasn’t like she’d ever see the inside of his home anyway with how he’d ruined everything, his normally fastidious nature overshadowed by a deep depression. She was probably disgusted just being close to someone who’d done the things he’d done. He didn’t know what to do with himself, he hadn’t seen her in three nights. The thought of her never coming back made him almost physically ill. He retreated to his bedroom, the only clean corner of the apartment, to try to get some sleep. Maybe he wouldn’t dream about her tonight.

The next night, his work with the Strangers went on as usual, their experiments with his fellow City inhabitants yielding nothing useful to them, but going on nonetheless. He continued to mix and match the memories of the inhabitants of the City according to some unfathomable plan of the Strangers, and re-imprinting a few citizens as well, as he had for the last three years of his life. Until tonight. Tonight, something had happened. A man, John Murdoch, had awakened during imprinting.

And tonight, Kat came back. It was after the last imprinting of the night had been completed and Daniel had returned to his lab. He had been holding Archibald, stroking the rat’s soft fur. He hadn’t been wearing his lab coat, he was in a blue vest with a striped dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a small red bowtie. He paced the room slowly. He thought of perhaps reading one of the many books lining the walls of the lab by the greenish glow of the overhead light to pass the night, anything to keep his mind off of her.

Kat was all he’d thought about since he’d seen her last. Not even coherent thoughts, just her her her. He spent his time remembering everything about her, every interaction they’d ever had, wishing he could see her again just one time.

“I bet you miss her almost as much as I do,” he said to the rat. “I wish I’d at least told her I-” he was interrupted by Archibald’s familiar squeak.

He turned to see Kat at the door of the lab, as he knew he would at Archie’s outburst. She looked tired. Daniel had never felt relief like this. He carefully put the rat back into his hutch and turned to face her. His hands were shaking slightly and he was unsure whether to approach her. He still wasn’t sure how she felt about him, about everything he’d told her. He didn’t have to wonder long before she approached him. She looked into his eyes for a moment. She must have seen whatever she was looking for in them, because before he knew it her arms were thrown around him and her face buried in his shoulder. She was crying.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left, I know you’re just as much a victim as the rest of us, I was just scared, and I know you were just as scared. I shouldn’t have left you,” she spoke into his vest and her tears dampened his sleeve.

“It’s okay,” he held her gently while she cried. When she’d calmed a bit he offered her his handkerchief. She took it gratefully, drying her eyes and sniffling. “It’s going to be okay.”

He told her of the events of the night.

“Has that never happened before? Someone waking up during?” she asked. He nodded.

“It’s happened before but never like this.” He explained that while others had woken up during imprinting, this was the first time he was tossed across the room by one of them without being touched. This man could manipulate reality, just as the Strangers did to rearrange the City and its people. They called it “tuning,” he explained.

“After I left, I called him in the hotel room. I tried to explain it to him the way I explained it to you, but I didn’t have time before he dropped the phone and I lost contact with him,” he said.

“What does this mean, Daniel?” she asked him.

“It means this man might be able to destroy them, if we help him,” he answered.

Part 7

#dark city #sci fi #my writing #doctor daniel schreber #kiefer sutherland #kieferposting

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feverishly-kpop · 2 months

Text

Ateez - Flu - Part 6

It was noon by the time Seonghwa returned with Yunho in tow. Hongjoong popped his head out of his bedroom, dismayed to find his dongsaeng still flushed with fever but took solace in the fact that the glaze in his eyes had lightened up since the prior day.

“He’s doing a lot better, Joong” Seonghwa reassured upon noticing the concern on Hongjoong’s face as Hongjoong joined him in the living room. “His temperature is down and he has some meds to keep it that way, but they said the fever won’t break for another few days. The meds have been knocking him out straight away though so that’s something.”

Yunho groaned at the reminder, the fever taking its toll on him and his brain feeling scrambled and groggy from his medication.

“I’ll put him to bed” Seonghwa said as he wrapped an arm around Yunho’s shoulder. “Can you grab him a bottle of water?”

Hongjoong made it to the kitchen before his vision blurred, a reminder of the illness that was setting in with no regard for the fact he had sick kids to take care of. He took a few moments to collect himself, letting the dizzy spell pass for the time being.

Once Yunho was settled in Seonghwa and Hongjoong collapsed on the couch, both clearly exhausted.

“Did you sleep last night?” Hongjoong broke the silence, already knowing the answer.

Seonghwa shook his head as he rubbed his eyes harshly. “His nurse wanted me to go home for the night but I didn’t want him to wake up alone.” Hongjoong nodded in understanding at that. He would have done the same thing. “I tried to sleep in the chair but I couldn’t get comfortable. How about you? How are Mingi and Wooyoung doing?”

Hongjoong sighed before responding. “Mingi is Mingi. He wants nothing to do with anybody right now. I’ve been forcing tablets and water into him. He’s not very happy with me right now. And Wooyoung…” his voice trailed off for a moment before continuing. “I tried to get him to sleep in San’s bed and have San stay with Yeo and Jongho but he ended up in bed with me.”

Seonghwa glared at him with disapproval. Hongjoong knew that Seonghwa was concerned about him coming down with the flu too, but Seonghwa also had no idea that that ship had already sailed.

“Don’t look at me that way, Hwa. Please.” Hongjoong said defensively. “It was either that or stay up with him all night while he cried. This flu is no joke.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, the tension in the room building by the moment. “Yeah, I’m fully aware, believe it or not, after spending the night in the fucking hospital with Yunho teetering on the edge of what could have been a dangerous fever. But thank you for the reminder.”

Even in his current state Hongjoong could sense that this interaction was devolving into something that he didn’t have the capacity to deal with at the moment. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You need to get some sleep now though.”

“Shit…no, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pick a fight…I’m just…yeah I need sleep” Seonghwa quickly agreed. “Please wake me up if you need me though” he added as he trudged off to bed.

*~*~*~*~*~

The sound of the front door opening startled San awake. Seonghwa had his hands full with Yunho and didn’t even seem to notice San, who had taken up residence on the couch.

Wooyoung had kept San and Hongjoong up for the better part of the night and into the early hours of the morning as his fever spiked and the body aches set in. Hongjoong had finally gotten him settled into San’s bed, hoping that keeping Yunho and Wooyoung together and Mingi isolated in his own room would prevent further spread but, by the time Hongjoong carried Wooyoung off to his shared room with Seonghwa, San wasn’t sure where he should sleep. His own room was out of the question, his bedding damp from Wooyoung’s sweat and tears, and he wasn’t sure when Yunho would be coming home and in need of his own bed.

He briefly considered Wooyoung’s bed before pausing. Yeosang and Jongho were the only members that hadn’t been exposed to the flu yet and San had spent the day with Wooyoung. Not wanting to risk it, San made his way to the couch before collapsing into a deep sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~

San quickly sat up and vacated the couch, his mind still hazy with sleep, catching Seonghwa’s attention as he emerged from Yunho’s room.

“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you, Sannie” Seonghwa said with an exhausted smile as he closed the door behind him. “You look tired. There’s no schedules today, why don’t you get a little more sleep?”

San shrugged in response. “I was napping with Wooyoung when he woke up feeling sick so…I can help you and Hongjoong-hyung since I’ve already been exposed.” San immediately regretted mentioning that to Seonghwa as concern crossed his hyung’s face. He immediately spoke up again, hoping to put Seonghwa at ease. “I’m feeling totally fine, don’t worry!”

It seemed to be enough to placate Seonghwa for the time being. “Well please tell me if you start feeling sick, okay?” San nodded quickly in response before Seonghwa continued. “I hate to ask you, but would you mind going out to the store to get a box of popsicles? Yunho was asking for one on the way home and I gave him Yeosang’s last one yesterday but if it will keep him cool and hydrated…” The speed with which Seonghwa was speaking continued to increase until San interjected.

“What puppy wants, puppy gets” San said with a reassuring smile, grabbing his wallet and heading for the door.

*~*~*~*~*~

“Mingi, let me in please” Hongjoong hissed through Mingi’s door, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping members.

He was about to knock again when he felt a vibration coming from his pocket. Hongjoong rolled his eyes as he opened the text from Mingi:

“Let me sleep.”

Hongjoong was about to protest when he received a second message. A picture of an empty bottle of water with a mostly full bottle next to it.

“At least let me check your…” he was once more cut off, this time by a second picture of a thermometer reading 38.1°.

With that Hongjoong admitted defeat. “Please let me know if you need anything.” After glancing into his own room and confirming that Seonghwa and Wooyoung were still both fast asleep and wrapping an ice pack around the back of Yunho’s hand where the IV needle had been inserted in hopes that it would dull the pain that he was complaining of, Hongjoong stepped into the washroom, locking the door behind him. It took a moment of shuffling to find another thermometer in the medicine cabinet but upon locating it behind a box of bandages he popped it under his tongue. He cringed at the quick beeps that signaled a fever before he could even look at the reading. It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know that he was feverish and he was fully aware that sleeping in close proximity to his own personal little space heater, Wooyoung, hadn’t helped at all, but he hadn’t expected his temperature to be 38.5°.

A cough coming from Yunho’s room quickly drew him back to reality. Knowing it was only a matter of time until he was needed again, he quickly swallowed a few of the fever reducers that he had left on the vanity that morning and turned on the shower, opting to take a fast lukewarm shower in hopes that it would get his fever down enough to continue with his day relatively uninterrupted.

If there was anything that Hongjoong was acutely aware of, however, was that no aspect of his life was ever uninterrupted, and a quiet knock on the door reminded him that this situation was no different.

“I’m just getting out of the shower” Hongjoong responded with a sigh as he turned the water off, doing his best to hide the way his teeth were chattering.

“Hyung” the knocking continued as Yeosang’s voice called to him from the other side of the door.

“Yeosang, please give me five minutes” Hongjoong sighed, doing his best to control his temper. Of course he loved Yeosang, but knowing him he’d be asking where the cereal was or confirming tomorrow’s schedule despite Hongjoong having reviewed it twice with him the day prior.

“Hyung, it’s important…its…”

Hongjoong had had enough. Hastily wrapping a towel around his waist, he swung the door open, prepared to lay into Yeosang about respecting one another’s space and about actually listening to what other people were saying. But those thoughts melted away as he found Yeosang awkwardly holding up San as San awkwardly held up a box of popsicles.

“What puppy wants…” San started before interrupted momentarily with a cough. “…puppy gets” he finished, quickly swinging his arm around to hand Yunho’s popsicles to Hongjoong before leaning a little more heavily into Yeosang.

“Sorry, I’m just a little dizzy all of a…” but before San could finish, his eyes rolled back as the rest of his body weight sunk into Yeosang’s arms.

It took a moment for Hongjoong’s fever-addled brain to comprehend what had happened. And even when he realized that San had fainted, it still took his mind another moment to move on from the first and only thought to cross his mind:

Oh. Fuck.

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