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justabigassnerd · 1 year

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Healing Presence

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 1,178

Warnings - slight muscle injury, mentions of pain meds, mostly fluff

Summary - when Rooster discovers you're feeling the slightest amount of pain, he shifts into nurse mode

A/N - hey y'all! this was a request sent in by @roostersluvr so I hope I did your idea justice. it's short and sweet but sometimes we need a lil' short and sweet in our lives! anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all, please send in requests feedback and enjoy!!!

The sunlight seeping from behind the curtains is what woke Rooster. He was naturally an early riser anyway but, on the weekends, he would always try and fail to sleep in. The sunlight would always force his eyes open almost the second it rose. As Rooster woke up, he tightened the grip he had on your waist before blinking his eyes open. Your back was to him as you slept peacefully. Rooster relished in your presence for a few minutes, savouring the peacefulness that encompassed the room.

When Rooster decided that he wanted to get up and get a coffee and make breakfast, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your shoulder before slowly wiggling his way out of bed. He made his way downstairs and put a cup under the coffee machine and hit start as he searched for something to make for breakfast. He decided as he put bread into the toaster that he’d make you some breakfast in bed. Rooster put the radio on quietly and hummed along as he cooked breakfast. Once he made breakfast, he put everything on two plates before putting them on a tray and carrying it upstairs to where you were still asleep. Rooster placed the tray down on his bedside table and then gently leaned over you and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek while one of his hands went to play with your hair. He smiles to himself as you stirred, curling up further under the duvet and attempting to shove yourself further into your pillow.

“You better have a good reason to be waking me up, Bradshaw.” You mumble as Rooster chuckles lightly.

“I’ve made you some breakfast. Now up you get sleepy head.” Rooster grins as you move to sit up upon hearing that he made breakfast. As you sit up, you wince, your hand reaching up to rest on your chest.

“Are you okay?” Rooster asks worriedly, sitting alongside you and watching worriedly.

“I’m okay, Roo. I think I overexerted myself at the gym last night. I’ll live.” You chuckle weakly, wincing again when your muscles throb.

“Well as your boyfriend. You’re resting up all day. I don’t want you overexerting yourself further. Let’s eat our breakfast and then I’ll grab you some pain meds.” Rooster says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple before grabbing the tray off the bedside table and placing it on your lap, letting you keep the tray while he sets his own plate on his lap.

“Bradley Bradshaw if you get any food on this cover, I will make you wash this by hand these are fresh sheets.” You say, watching the plate carefully.

“I’d expect nothing less.” Rooster says, his grin never fading. The two of you eat your food, exchanging occasional words and enjoying each other’s company. When you both finish your breakfast, Rooster puts everything back on the tray again and picks it up.

“I’ll be back with some painkillers, okay?” He says softly, standing up and leaving the bedroom with the tray. You wait until you hear his footsteps disappearing downstairs before you ease yourself out of bed, wincing as you do so. You grab your favourite hoodie, which happens to be Rooster’s, and head downstairs to join your boyfriend. You make it to the living room just as Rooster leaves the kitchen and you giggle at the way his jaw drops in mock horror.

“I told you I’d come back upstairs!” He exclaims as you sit down on the sofa, grinning up at him innocently as he stands before you, hands on hips as he eerily reminds you of your mother when she caught you returning home late at night.

“I am capable of walking around, Roo. It hurts, yes. But I don’t want to spend all day in bed.” You say, raising an eyebrow at Rooster as he rolls his eyes.

“Okay, fine. But will you at least let me take care of you now?” He asks, watching as you nod before dismissing himself to grab some water and painkillers for you. He returns to find you watching a show on tv and offers you the water and painkillers which you take gratefully, thanking him as you do so.

“This may be a really weird question, but do we have a heat pack anywhere? My chest feels tight, and a heat pack might help.” You mumble, looking up at Rooster from where your focus was on your glass.

“I think we have one hidden away somewhere. I’ll dig it out. You relax.” Rooster says, pointing a stern finger at you to keep you in place and you hold your hands up innocently and remain seated.

“You got it.” You say, turning your attention back to the tv and taking another sip from your glass of water. Meanwhile, Rooster digs through all the cupboards he thought could contain the heat pack until he triumphantly held up the heat pack, a grin on his face. He took the heat pack to the kitchen and heated it up in the microwave and once it was warm enough, he brought it out to you and handed it over to you so you could apply it to where the tightness was. The heat pack helped ease the pain in your chest and when Rooster eased himself next to you on the sofa, you immediately curled into his side, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you. You watch the tv mindlessly, enjoying how Rooster absentmindedly rubs a thumb over your hip.

“You comfortable?”’ Rooster asks gently, looking down at you with a soft gaze as you lifted your head to look up at him.

“Very.” You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, focusing back on the tv.

“If you need anything, let me know.” Rooster says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head after he speaks. You smile to yourself as you cuddle impossibly closer to your boyfriend. Rooster was the kind of boyfriend who would wait on you hand and foot whenever you were ill or in any kind of pain. It was the way Carole had raised him and you wouldn’t change him for the world. The room was silent other than the tv playing quietly before you. You giggled at the antics of the characters on screen, the pain in your chest lessening by the second due to the heat pack and the painkillers. Although you were sure Rooster’s presence was a huge contributing factor as well.

Whenever you felt unwell or were in any pain, Rooster would be by your side helping you every step of the way. He’d do anything for you, and you knew you’d do anything for him too. He was the love of your life and while he could get a little overbearing when he took care of you, you knew it came from a place of love and you’d never tell him to change in his ways. Especially when you were the same, if not worse when he was the sick or injured one.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw

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seldomscilence16 · 7 months

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Whumptober day 15:

"I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself."

Makeshift bandages | suppressed suffering | I'm fine

Fandom: Scooby Doo (au)

Prompts used: Vaguely all of them

So writing Scooby is exhausting lol. Anyway, an alternate first real meeting of the gang, before their adventures. Shaggy angst as always. I know we have technically met his parents, but this is my headcanon and I'm stubborn.

TW for child abuse and blood.

…

Norville "Shaggy" Rogers was the son of an interesting family. He would need a few hours to truly get through all of them, but the main bit was that he had A LOT to live up to, and his father would not let him forget it.

Shaggys life was the constant pressure of finding something he could make a living off of. His father was breathing down his neck anytime he was home, and had put him into any and all extracurriculars that he thought would 'fix' his son throughout his childhood. Several of which Shaggy less than excelled at, but a few he actually took something from.

Those somethings just weren't helpful for what his Father wanted.

Shaggy's pretty sure he could never be what his father wanted, he looks at the kids in the activities/classes he was forced into, and sees exactly what he should be. One Daphne Blake would be perfect he's sure, who is good at everything she tries and tries at everything she does.

Shaggys only saving grace is that he's a star when it comes to track and field. In fact, gym class is his highest grade- next to home economics but his dad doesn't count that one. His mother wished he'd stuck out his Piano lessons, but the disaster of a first recital had made it impossible to continue in public.

As it was, he was not the ideal, prodigal son. But he would like to think he's a good brother.

Margret "sugie" Rogers was sometimes the only thing that kept Shaggy going. He wonders sometimes, if his parents need for control and no nonsense attitudes, had jinxed their children. Though Sugie was obviously the favorite between the two, even she couldn't escape their parents' wrath on a bad day.

And today was a bad day.

Shaggy had come home from school early, at the insistence of the nurse, after passing out during a panic attack. A panic attack that took place in a closed locker, after a bout of bullying, Fred Jones and Velma Dinkley had heard his panic and freed him, but Shaggy had been unable to calm down.

Shaggy's mom had to come pick him up, and since Shaggy usually walked Sugie home, they picked her up as well. The car ride had been tense to say the least, her white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and clenched jaw, the twitch of her eye with any sound they made. She had told them to stay in their rooms until she and their father got home from work that afternoon.

Shaggy had made Sugie a snack anyway, worried about dinner not going well. A feeling that was right on the nose.

Shaggy couldn't tell you the exact words used, echoes of a million fights beforehand that were too similar to differentiate from clouding his brain. Their parents hated their anxiety- though they would never acknowledge the medical term as a real thing- and this was a prime example of why for them. Shaggy couldn't stand up for himself, couldn't fight them off, and passed out 'from being scared of a locker'. They yelled until they were red in the face, only to start all over when they realized Shaggy had made a snack- Sugies favorite snack.

The minute they'd turned on Sugie, his sister's already tearful face had fallen further, fear growing in her eyes. And Shaggy did something he could only ever do when he was protecting her, he moved in front of her, and stared into his fathers eyes with a defiance he hadn't known he'd possessed until she was born. The fight had turned physical after that, which was common enough in Shaggy's life.

The sound of shattering glass still rings in his ears- or perhaps his ears were simply ringing, he had taken a gnarly hit to the head. He was honestly more concerned about his arm, since he's pretty sure that's where the glass had come into play anyway- he couldn't tell if what he was seeing was bone or something, but he hoped and assumed it was simply glass- the bloody wound took up most of his forearm and was scarily worse than any prior blood drawing injuries he'd received.

But he couldn't focus on his injuries quite yet, limping on a wonky ankle down his darkened street, he wasn't safe from prying eyes yet. His parents would be pissed if he was seen, and Sugie was still home. He makes it all the way to the park by the lake, collapsing heavily on the first bench he finds. He takes deep breaths to calm his racing heart- the last thing he needed was another panic attack, please brain, one thing at a time.

He tugs the flannel from around his waist, his red one, that Sugie always said made him look like Christmas when paired with his favorite green shirt. Her smile had made it his most paired outfit, he hoped the blood would wash out. He examines his arm again, blood crusting even as more continues to drip out, and can't help his grimace at the sight. It would need more than an ameture bandaging job with an old flannel, whether it was glass or bone, it needed attention and he didn't have the skill or supplies for it. He wraps it as best he can manage if for no other reason than to hide the problem.

The bushes nearby shake, he tenses up despite a protesting multitude of injuries, leveling a wide eyed stare at the offending flora. He didn't think he could move another step, but he supposed he'd be testing that shortly.

He does not expect a dog to exit the bushes and freeze at the sight of him, as if Shaggy of all people was intimidating.

"Uh… nice… doggy…" Shaggy manages, the large canine quite the sight, despite his seemingly young features. A great Dane maybe?

"Reah!" The dog nods, he… frickin nods… like Shaggy had asked if he was a nice dog, and said dog was confirming it.

Shaggy had to have a concussion.

"Cool, cool coolcool. Cool." Shaggy nods back and looks away, maybe it was a figment of his imagination.

"Rhy are rou rurt?"

Well he's still here.

"I'm fine, talking dog. Just taking a breather." He really shouldn't entertain the talking dog, this could be some creature out to eat him or steal his soul or any other number of things, oh gods Shaggy was about to die.

"You're reeding."

"I do like a good book now and again but currently resting actually." Seriously Shaggy, did all the blood leave your head!?

"Ro, rud, rur reeding rud."

The dog is now beside him, his nose sniffing at a smudge of red on his pants and Shaggy understands.

"I'm fine, it's just a… little, blood." His body would disagree, but Shaggy had been weak far too much today and if he couldn't handle this, there's no way he'd make it until his 18th birthday where he would be able to legally work on getting his sister away from here.

What's a little blood loss and pain in the face of losing his little sister.

"Ry ran ret rou rome relp!"

"No offense but, I don't need you to help me, I can handle things myself. I have to, you probably wouldnt understand despite being a talking dog." Shaggy shifts with a wince and a groan, his ribs protesting.

"Rooby rooby roo!" The dog startles him at the change of volume- if only slightly elevated- and he worries this is some ritual of doom, but he only stares at Shaggy expectantly, saying it again a little louder when the teen only stares.

"Shhh!! Okay okay, what do you want?" Shaggy looks around in a panic, if the cops are called he's screwed.

The dog puts a paw on his own chest,

"Rooby roo!"

"Rooby roo… uh Looby Loo?" A shake of his head, "Cooby Coo?" A soso motion, "Uh… Sooby Soo?" The dog puts up a halting paw, does a series of gestures that semi compute with Shaggy's achy head. "Scooby Doo?"

"Reah, reah!"

"Oh, is that like, your name?" Shaggy takes a deep breath as a wave of nausea hits him, head spinning, "You can like, call me Shaggy."

His head lulls and he hears a worried warble of words he's too tired to listen to.

"Just… gonna take, like, a nap."

"-aggy! Wake up!"

"'M'fine…'mma Rogers…"

"Wake up Shaggy, please!"

His sight is blurry, squinted eyes seeing blobs before him.

"Shaggy, you're hurt, you need to stay awake."

"Not hurt… 'm like fine."

"Shaggy Rogers, you stay awake or this snack I packed is going in the lake!"

"Like, what'd the snack ever do to you?" He mutters, but forces his eyes open further to find none other than Fred, Velma and Daphne, the dog- Scooby- next to them.

"Do you realize what could have happened If your dog hadn't found us?" Velma asks, examining his flannel covered arm.

"I would have gotten some more sleep?" He wonders what the big deal is until he really focuses on her intense stare, "what?"

"This is a lot of blood, it should be in a lot of pain, that is your body telling you it needs help. If you ignore that it causes major problems, you need blood to live, Shaggy, what happens when it keeps leaving?" Velma is talking slowly, small words his tired brain can catch.

"Not good." Shaggy responds, seeming to get her meaning, he looks at his bloody shirt and guesses it's worse than he thought, he'd been ignoring the pain, to keep his weakness from showing, but now that he's thinking about it, the throbbing is too much to ignore.

"You need medical attention Shaggy." Daphne pipes in.

"Cant." He responds simply.

"Shaggy-" Velma is cut off.

"We can go to my sister." Daphne's eyes say more, but Shaggy is the only one to know the language.

"I can't…" he trails off, unsure of how to say it without drawing suspicion.

"We'll be quiet. She'll be quiet. But we'll also help okay?"

Scooby lays his head on Shaggy's lap, and while Fred and Velma seem vaguely lost, they nod anyway.

"Okay…"

#whumptober 2023 #no.15 #“I dont need you to help me I can handle things myself.”#lyric #makeshift bandages #suppressed suffering #“I'm fine.”#scooby doo #fic #child abuse tw #blood tw #Shaggy Angst #alternate meeting #shaggy loves his sister

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bellevvalencia · 4 months

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A Christmas Story, pt. 2

A Christmas Story (2020) here

I’ve written about how much Christmas meant to me before. I wrote, at the height of the pandemic, that it was never going to be the same anymore. That if, as a child, Christmas was everything I would look forward to every year, I had to force myself to grow up and change that.

The feeling is always supposed to be temporary. It’s what makes it so special. The lights. The smell. The gift wrappers. The kids. The church bells. The food. We wait for it and we crave it, and then we get it, and then as all magic dust comes and goes, we lose it eventually.

That’s what makes it so special. So frustratingly special.

Huh.

I’m 23, and I’m still talking about feelings that are fleeting. I have the same brain that I had when I was 18.

I spent the first minute of Christmas day cursing. It was that kind of Christmas that I wrote about in 2019 again. I was angry. I slept for more than 12 hours. I stayed on my phone until 5PM. I was still so, so, fucking angry. When I finally got up from bed, I ran to the gym. Then I got dinner at a full, noisy Starbucks alone.

The magic was there until it wasn’t, and I had to deal with the resentment afterwards.

It’s so funny how, after how good and eventful my year was with my family, it was my high expectations of the day that ruined everything for me. I was trying to process it all as I walked the empty streets home.

If I died tonight, on Christmas, without a single word said to my parents, I thought, that would be iconic.

Am I really just ruining all the good things for myself? Am I sabotaging myself when I think of death during birthdays, and of separation during holidays?

I remember putting down my headphones away after somebody called after me. I was halfway through the dark sidewalk of Shaw and I was alone. My music stopped, so unfortunately, even in my hyperawareness of dodging any possible crime, my thoughts had to ring in my mind loudly.

I was going to send my location to you just in case.

I was going to laugh because someone was still catcalling me.

I was going to tell you about how I walked this road almost every night five years ago.

I was going to plan what to tell the psychiatrist in February.

I was going to forget that I was angry.

But I didn’t.

It’s really that simple.

Isn’t it funny how, even after all that I know and write about, the story still goes on predictably like this? The temporary feeling is over, I probably did ruin it, and I’m back to telling everybody to fuck off.

I’d say it’s normal to react this way, but choosing to be angry on Christmas is so selfish and self-serving. I wish I was better than this.

I say I forgive and forget so easily but right now I would rather hit my head against a wall. And say, dude, haha, fuck you.

Christmas is still so special to me. The only difference is that it’s not the day itself that matters to me, because God knows shit always, always fucks up when we put too much pressure on it, but the days that I count and tread leading to it. The shopping. The list. The lights. The people. The parties. The alcohol. The food. The anticipation. The ending. The new beginning.

Christmas Day was ruined for me, but Christmas is never really just a day. If 25th was the bad day out of the 50 or 100 or more that I spent hopelessly preparing for it, I’d say that’s fair.

Shit happens, people tick, I tick back when you ruin the one special day of the year for me, it’s normal, it’s okay.

I have no other ending to this. I’m still angry. But Merry Christmas!

#a christmas story

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visible-buttholegirl · 5 months

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i should be asleep right now... oh well!

i know that i have mentioned being at a fork in the road in my life before, and i'm gonna reiterate that but from a slightly different perspective. i feel like the last year and a half has been especially challenging and unsatisfying for me lately. i've continued to not achieve many of my personal goals, i am unhappy at my career job that i've worked my whole life to get to, i've lost more friends than ever, either due to conflicts or just people moving on, and i've continued to be single throughout this whole time. this we all know. until now i hadn't realized that this "era" of my life was coming to an end. i'm still in my 20's, but i think the early 20's ARE different from the later 20's and i have been trying to chase the high of my early 20's. even now, typing this out i have a hard time accepting this reality.

the last five years really shaped me to be who i am today, they informed my worldview, my interests, lead me to the many friends i've made, given me so many unforgettable experiences. who wouldn't want to hold onto that? but now, in 2023, at 25, i have lost a few friends, and many current relationships do not seem to satisfy me the way they did before. i feel like i have lost my sense of self a bit, and been distracted by nostalgia and quick-fix hits of dopamine, desperately clinging to the fragments of my past. i am also being faced with the harsh reality of adult life. things are expensive, responsibilities are mounting, and i am more independent than ever. i HAVE to be there for myself. i have to make sure that things get taken care of and that i take care of myself. i did get my license and a car just recently which checked off a couple of life goals in one foul swoop, however even that carries the burden of additional bills, maintenance, and safety risks.

the true fork in the road of my life is the decision of clinging to my past and trying to make the most of it, things mostly staying the same yet i try to improve myself despite that, OR i make a drastic change that forces me to deal with many obstacles in the pursuit of renewed excitement for life and boosted self-confidence. i already know which one i SHOULD go with, and my bias was pretty obvious there, but when does the point come where i stop talking and start taking action? and what will my future look like after making that decision? i will be devastated having to leave everything i know and love behind (of course friends and family will remain in contact and maybe even visit), but will i be able to thrive in a new setting? will i be able to put myself out there and cultivate a new pool of friends, find new places i love to go to, find an affordable place to stay, and get back to that happiness i've known before?

when i think of a snapshot of the last few years where i was really happy, i think of working a closing shift at the store alongside my really amazing friends, and then after work, going to someone's apartment and just hanging out and chatting. lights are low and warm, there's art on the walls and plants and cats all around us, and we're drinking wine and chatting about the day, chatting about our lives, things we like and don't like, and maybe occasionally going outside at night for a smoke break. then at the end of it all, i'd bike or walk home, maybe take the bus if its still running. then the next morning i wake up when i wake up, make breakfast and maybe go for a walk, hang at the coffee shop or go to the gym, then get ready for work and the cycle continues.

i was watching a favorite TV show tonight and was moved to tears by a wedding scene that took place within it. of course its a dramatization of real life, but i do believe there are people who experience the love that they displayed on this show. i feel i deserve that level of connection with someone, and i am manifesting it for myself. however this is not something i feel i have experienced before. i have had intense crushes on people (again, we all know this already) but with nothing reciprocated i have not yet felt this love where i would take a bullet for someone. (does that make me a bad person?)

in an ideal world i move to a new city and find something like this for myself. whether it be something almost exactly like this or a new "version" of this experience, i think it will make me feel happy again. of course there are all the other things i want to do to make myself happy, working out and eating right, creating more art and fleshing out my musical ability, and doing things with friends. i know i can achieve all of these things and then some, the car and license are proof of that, and also a tool that will help me achieve these things, but i do have to find the strength to stop talking and start doing.

#me

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1surfrocker · 7 months

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10/03/2023

So far I think I'm doing a pretty bad job of posting regular entires. The whole point of starting this was to keep a diary of sorts of my day-to-day so that I can refer back to my life experiences more vividly. I shouldn't look at this as a chore, and shouldn't approach it with an overly serious mindset. I'm not trying to write a novel here, or impress anyone with my use of words. Given the fact that I used to be an aspiring writer/journalist, it's very hard to break from that mentality and not write these entires in an overly wrought style.

I think that was in fact my writing style back when: Overly wrought. Too much style, not enough substance. I don't miss it at all.

Here's what I've been up to:

I took my mom out for her birthday the Saturday before last. We were going to go to the New Filmmakers movie festival in DTLA, but as I ended up being 45 minutes late stuck in a traffic jam on the 710 freeway, we instead went to go see The Equalizer pt3 starring Denzel Washington. 2 hours of watching Denzel kill the bloody shit out of bad guys as easy as you and I breathe air. I have to admit it was pretty fun. Afterwards we ate dinner at Hippo in Highland Park, which might just be my favorite restaurant in that part of town at this point. I've eaten there 3 times and it's always memorable. Some of the best fish I've ever eaten, and their bread is top notch.

The following day Amy and I measured, cut, and installed baseboard in the upstairs attic. Oh my god it only took us 1.5 years to get to this! The first hour of cutting was a real slog because we kept doing it wrong. Also, lesson learned: Next time get a double bevel mitre saw. Trying to adjust angles on a single bevel forces you to flip the wood upside down and right side over again in order to get the cut you need. It's like trying to read upside down. Not terribly tricky, but you need to get the hang of it. I only had to drive back to home depot once to buy more wood. The attic's looking great now and Amy's spending more time up there already getting things in order. It's her pet project and I want her to love doing it, which so far it seems like she is.

The entire work week last week is a blur. First time I've hit $33k GP since March (the writer's strike really put a dent in business this year) and I had to work harder than shit to do it, but it felt good to hit it.

The weekend came around and I took my mind off work entirely. Matt was supposed to come back over to pick up where we'd left off on our groovy goth-wave song, but he flaked (I think he was too hungover to make music, LOL!). So instead I was left to my own devices and started production for Passion, thus kicking off the start of my new In Fades album. I envision it being more electronic and more dancey than anything I've done in the past. But not without my patently flamboyant, overly romanticized style. Think Caribou meets Nick Cave.

Monday came around and I was still so damned tired from hitting my goal the previous week. Luckily it wasn't too busy. I continue to bring Barklie up to speed on all the ins and outs, and now finding more time for myself to prospect new clients. The idea of cold calling once again leaves an icy tinge somewhere inside of me, but it's nice to be able to have the freedom to do so once again.

I bought a gym membership for Amy last night so that we can go to LBR together any time we want to. We've been doing Acro Yoga classes together lately and it's been very enjoyable, and challenging, and a nice workout to boot!

This is about as properly caught up as I can make this post without going into tangents, so I'll wrap it up and move onto the rest of my evening. I plan to practice viola and if I'm feeling limber enough track it for Passion. That viola part will make that song come alive, I can feel it in my soul.

I might do some reading as well, but I have to admit I'm getting a little bored of this Richard III book. It's so very long.

Cheers

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spreadfire1 · 1 year

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If you have the choice, stay in motion! It requires less effort/force than to get moving again.

📅💪 If you have the choice, stay in motion. 🥑🍌 It requires less effort/force than to get moving again. - spreadfire1 🖖😊 An excerpt from my blog article (from July 4th, 2020) on spreadfire1.com: Keep your life structured! You don’t need me to lay out a step-by-step guide on what to do. I’ll just introduce some concepts on which your creative mind can expand upon. Whatever you decide to do – don’t stop. At least not for too long. The longer you stay still, the harder it is to get moving again. Of course, a short pause or rest period doesn’t hurt and can be healthy. But don’t get sloppy. Once you lose a daily structure or routine, everything gets harder. As long as you are in motion and have a structured life, it’s easy. Get up every day, eat breakfast, go to work. Come home, go jogging, or hit the gym. Cook and eat dinner. Perfect. You feel productive, a sense of accomplishment. Great. But that’s easy. I don’t want to take anything away from anyone who manages to do all these things and more. I just want to give you perspective. Everybody can fall into that trap and before you realize it, it’s too late. I like to compare this by analogy to Newton’s first law of motion. A body at rest tends to stay at rest, and a body in motion tends to stay in motion, unless acted on by a net external force. The status quo is a powerful force in human behavior, directly analogous to the inertia described by Newton’s first law of motion: force is necessary for a change in motion to occur. Of course, this is much more complex than physics, when applied to human psychology. But it helps me grasp the basic concept and keeping it in mind whenever I catch myself trending towards a state of inertia/inactivity.

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dolofinao · 2 years

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And Then They Were Villains

Chapter One

BASKETBALL IT IS

"I can't wait to hit that!" Mike gave a subtle point with his finger at the light skinned black girl sitting at the far left of us, stretching on the gym floor. "Got her number at lunch yesterday. She told me to come over Friday after school. So you know what that means." He started making obnoxious moaning sounds while pounding his fists on the bleachers. Typical young high school kid shit.

Mike was the high school pretty boy. Fly gear, good hair & tall. His grades were shit but when it came to the ladies, he was passing with flying colors. So much that us regular guys used to make bets every year on which new girl Mike would hook up with first. And this year he had his eyes set on Mandy. The light skinned black girl in gym glass who would stretch before volleyball games. And us guys would watch her like hawks.

We had just finished up our football game so we had a few minutes to relax & drool over the ladies before the gym teacher would tell us to 'go be active.' Volleyball wasn't our thing, so most of the fellas would play more contact sports. Anthony (Ant) blurted out our next move. "Half court dodgeball." We all looked at him confused. Mike let out a fake laugh. "Yeah sure Ant. With what ball? The red one is done for & that black one got stolen so... yeah. Not happening." Ant sucked his teeth & sank back into the bleacher seat behind him. Ant was the 'ideas' man. Short, nerdy but super chill kinda dude. Also had a bit of a temper if you ever pushed his buttons too hard. He actually got suspended for 2 weeks one year for slamming a senior onto a lunch table & telling him he was gonna "slit his throat" if he ever touched his fries again. Ever since then he was Ant. The short, strong nerd kid who picked up and slammed a 6 foot tall senior jock & lived to tell about it.

Zach, was the only white dude in our little crew of random black kids. He hung with us because we never judged him for being the way he was. He dressed & acted like us but lived the suburban life back home. And we didn't give a shit. And if anybody stepped to him for 'acting black'... we would let them know what time it was. That was our thing. We all bonded because we were all different in some interesting ways. In ways we didn't see in other kids at school. And we looked out for each other. Even if some of us never threw a punch a day in our lives.

But back to Zack, who decided to wake up from his pot head nap to chime in on our conversation. He sat up straight & fixed his long gold link chain & dragon charm. "I brought that ball back. Like a week ago. Naw wait. Two days ago." Now HE was the recipient of our confused looks. "Brought WHAT ball back?" I said slowly in hopes that he would for once give us a clear and coherent answer. "That black dodgeball. Threw it under the bleachers so no one could use it." We all turned and looked at each other & communicated without speaking. As if we were all trying to decipher Zachs weed smoker logic, & then came to whatever conclusions made the most sense to us.

Mike gave Zachs arm a quick slap with the back of his hand. "Ok so get your ass up & get it dude!" Zach let out a goofy sounding low toned chuckle. "Naw bro, it's like waaaaay under there. Way too dark and dusty too." He pulled at the tongue of one of his all white Air Forces to let us know exactly why he wasn't the man for the job.

Before any of us had the chance to roast Zach for his lame ass excuse, I jumped up made my way down the set of bleachers to retrieve our dodgeball. "Fuck it, I'll get it." I looked down at my all black outfit & had a moment of pause in my head. Too late now. Ant wasn't far behind me. "If you get stuck or can't get it, lemme know." He said. As well dressed as Ant was, he somehow managed to keep his clothes spotless even in the most messy of situations. I gave him a 'good lookin out' nod & readied myself to head under.

From where I was standing I could see our dodgeball. Just sitting there, looking back at me. Probably wondering why it was under there in the first place. Making my way to it was pretty easy. It was just a matter of not smaking my head off of anything while I moved. Half way under, I did this thing I do sometimes. I jokingly thought to myself... 'What if these bleachers just started to close in on me? Like if this was all just a set up? I wonder how much time I would have before I got crushed? Oh shit.'

A slightly echoing voice called from behind me. "You see it?... you got it?" I picked up the dodgeball along with fingers full of dust and debris that had accumulated around the bottom of it. "Yeah I got it." Ant disappeared to tell the rest of the crew the good news. The crouch walk back was a bit more tedious. I felt like I was holding onto a precious artifact, while also trying not to bang my head off of anything. I was just about all the way from underneath when I remembered. 'Bleachers closing in 5... 4... 3... 2...' I gave myself a longer last second countdown & did a small jump out into the gym lights & fresh air. Mike and the rest of them were already gathered on the right side of the gym floor.

I jogged over and went for a lazy layup with the dodgeball & missed. Mike grabbed it from it's stationary bounce and started doing his 'And 1' moves before tossing the ball to Zach with some force behind the pass. He caught it off balance and played it off with a spin move & a few dribbles between his legs.

Ant looked at the stragglers who were still hanging out on the bleachers. "Half court dodgeball! Who's down to play?!?" We got a few glances back, a few 'no thanks' gestures, & a few mumbles, but nobody got up from the bleachers.

Ant turned back to us and shrugged. "Ay man I tried." And to be fair, the stragglers pretty much consisted of the 'fuck everything' & 'no contact' kids. So half court anything was pretty much a no go.

I walked over to Zach who was still in his dribbling zone out & snatched the

dodgeball from him. I shot from half court & missed again. Basketball it is.

#writing a book #art #blackartist #tellyourstory #origin story #villain #storytelling #i write #writing #short story #good guy #bad guys #psychological #deep dive #penandink

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formvsquality · 2 years

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We started the summer eating right and exercising together. Summer brings a 2-month respite from soccer practice and all the running around that entails. Dinnertime was now free to cook healthy meals together every night. And after dinner was free too. So we could workout together a few evenings per week.

I had heard loud and clear for years that she needed help, she couldn’t do it by herself, she didn’t like doing it by herself

I spend a lot of time running by myself. I have long wanted to add strength training to the equation. I tried that alone but hurt myself. It forced me to take a week off running right before summer. I decided it was time to stop being cheap and give personal training a try.

So this summertime availability, my desire to hire a personal trainer, her desire to do more things together, it was all happening!

The plan was to work out together Monday/Thursday for 2 weeks. Our trainer got us 2 free weeks at a new gym. In week 3, our trainer would be on vacation, but we would see where we where at.

I mean, we had the view that we had a solid 8 weeks from early June until late July to get 16 workouts in and establish a new habit before the busy-ness of school and soccer in early August.

But then the thought of what that busy-ness of August through May entails for us, we start doubting how would this even work then? So in the spirit of the embracing the present, and not looking for ways this would fail before it even started, we decided not get ahead of ourselves and live in the moment.

The first 2 weeks were great. I loved those 2 weeks, those 4 workouts. It was exactly what I needed. It was harder for her, but our trainer calibrated each of our workouts according to our ability. The trainer we were trying together was an acquaintance that we both were comfortable with. Our trainer talked a lot about food. Suggested we give up alcohol for a few weeks while starting this program. Had us doing a food journal in week 2. I was feeling amazing.

I thought she was too.

In week 3 when our trainer was on vacation, we joined that gym so we could keep going there. We did Monday/Thursday by ourselves. We actually did! The workouts were less intense, but I was proud of us. She had a slightly negative attitude going in, especially on the second workout, but I chalked it up as me needing to play the role of motivator and her playing the role of reluctant participant. But that deep down, truly wanted to be there.

OK, 3 weeks in the books, we had a weekend trip to Universal planned. We allowed ourselves alcohol for the first time and allowed some less than healthy food. It was fine, it was a reward for a great start.

On to week 4, I forget the reason but we decided to do one more week alone, Then back to the trainer in July to mix up our workouts and try something different.

Needed Monday as a recovery day coming off the resort weekend, so we opted for Tuesday/Friday. Tuesday she has her dad come over to help with something around the house. Took longer than expected I guess. He was still there working when it was time to head the gym. She says she can’t go, I can go if I want. I’m like, no, we’re in this together. She says she needs the ability to make changes. I say, you should scheduled your dad to be on here a gym night and had to have known that could cause a conflict. She said that was the only night it worked this week. I’m thinking then why did it have to be this week? Why did this home improvement project take precedent over our gym momentum?

So we didn’t go. Nor did we go on Friday. Nor did we go back to the trainer in July. She apologized for making me get off track. She wasn’t as into it as me. She was doing it for me. I say, she can’t do this for me, she needs to do this for herself. If she doesn’t want to, let’s hit the pause button.

Time for me to do the separation of tasks. And not intervene in someone else’s task. And not let someone else intervene in my task.

Her working out his her task. I can’t intervene in that. Believing in her and loving her is my task. I believe in her and love her. I need to focus on doing that. And not trying to get her to do workouts she doesn’t want to do. She can accomplish amazing things, I’ve seen it time and time again. I need to let her know I am here to help in whatever amazing thing she wants to accomplish.

Me adding strength training to my workout regime and overall lifestyle is my task. I can’t let other people intervene in or prevent me from doing that task. I’ve been in sort of rut since late June. A few healthy days, a few off days. Trying to get on track. I need to be honest with myself of what performing that task consists of.

#books #the courage to be disliked #psychology #ichiro kishimi #fumitake koga #alfred adler #separation of tasks #health #marriage

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volleychumps · 3 years

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Heyy! Can you do one where Osamu, kuroo, akaashi and Tsukishima, say something mean to their s/o and their s/o avoids them for days? When they finally get ahold of their s/o, their s/o just sorta cries because it hit their insecure spot? Fluff in the end🥺

Listen, I can’t not write this.

Irrevocable Words.

- the one in which they accidentally make you give them the silent treatment because of their lashing out. -

~ Osamu Miya, Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji, and Tsukishima Kei~

TW: Cursing, angst to fluff, timeskip! for Osamu,

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

Osamu Miya

“Those are important files, ya know?”

“Samu, I’m sorry. You should’ve told me you needed last month’s earnings and I would’ve looked for them before we came this morning.” The hand you tried to settle onto Osamu’s bicep was shaken off as your movements faltered.

Your voice wobbled at the sight of your stoic fiance, an annoyed glint in his eye as he rummages through his files. Osamu felt a flare in his stomach, a lack of sleep contributing to his impatient state. The day had been a busy one, Osamu deciding that he needed this particular file for his business call tomorrow before the two of you headed home for the night.

“I told ya not to move anything back to the place.”

“I didn’t.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Here, just let me help-”

“Don’t touch a goddamn thing, I’ll do it myself.” There it was. The lashing out that was bound to happen occurred with a pointed tongue as he refused to look at you, rummaging through his file cabinets. “As I do everything else.”

He closes the cabinet sharply. “The least ya could do is try your best not to be a nuisance-”

Osamu flinches at the slam of one of the office desk drawers, chest sinking when he sees the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The paper he needed is thrown on the desk carelessly as you shove your jacket on, wetness slipping down your cheeks.

“And I’m not your goddamn secretary. I’m heading home first.”

“Y/N-”

“And don’t worry, I promise I’ll manage to do this by myself somehow.” Your voice cracks bitterly, the bell by the door jingling mockingly in Osamu’s ears as you exit, the chef hanging his head with a sigh and regret tinging his chest.

He was wrong to pray this would blow over, not expecting to wake without your warmth by his side. You avoided him on the way to the restaurant, cleaning quietly while giving vague answers to his questions, shifting out of his attempts to embrace you with apologies.

Deciding to give you space, he softly tells you to take the next few days off, unprepared for the tired look you had given him, simply nodding in response as you slipped into your side of the bed with your back turned to him.

“Where’s your pretty girlfriend?”

“Fiance.” Osamu forces a smile at his two elderly regulars two days later, the wife’s smile widening at his correction.

“Oho! Cherish each other while you youths still can, she really does brighten this place up, doesn’t she?”

You do.

Osamu’s eyes feel hot as he does a messy job of cleaning up the restaurant, closing up shop early and stopping by your favorite bakery to pick up the ridiculously expensive cake he only ever buys for your birthday.

Throwing the door open to your shared apartment hastily, you gasp at the gray-haired man’s sudden entry, dropping the spoon you were about to use to taste the dish you were making on the stove.

“Samu, y-you’re home early-”

“What’s all this?” He tries to steady his breaths at the sight of a nicely prepared table, something you hardly ever got to share ever since the night shifts overtook your lives and caused a rift between the two of you.

You’re silent for a second, looking away from his warm stare as you shift under his gaze.

“...I miss you.” Dark eyes widen when you begin to hiccup over your words, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “But I didn’t wanna be a nusciance-”

“Oh god, darlin’ no.” You’re pulled tightly into his chest as you cry, whole body shaking with tremors as Osamu’s inner turmoil merely increases.

If Osamu could go back in time and punch himself he would, unknowing of the torment he caused you over the past few days, thinking you just needed space.

“I want to marry ya Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

“I love you so much Samu.” You sniffle into his chest, causing him to smile softly, a hand sifting through your hair to hold you tighter to him.

“I brought cake.”

You laugh through the onslaught of tears.

“And I made dinner.”

“Then what are we waitin’ for?”

“Just hold me like this for awhile?”

“Y/N.” He kisses the top of your head, finally feeling at ease with your figure in his arms. Osamu whispers a confession he hardly shared with you, wanting those words in particular to be special as he bridged the gap between the two of you.

“I love ya so much more, don’t you go forgettin’ it.”

Kuroo Tetsurou

“I said I was sorry!”

“Is sorry supposed to just fix everything, Tetsurou?”

“Tetsurou? Are you seriously withholding me from my nickname privileges?”

You cross your arms at his attempt to make you laugh, thoroughly angry with the mess your boyfriend made of things as his smile fades at your peeved stare.

“Look, what was I supposed to do?”

“How about not leaving my parents waiting for you at the restaurant that you invited them to for another one of your spontaneous volleyball practices?”

“I texted you I had to cancel!”

“That was a half hour before we were supposed to meet, Kuroo! They were so excited to meet you they got there early. God, why can’t you ever take things seriously?”

“You’re right.” A bitter chuckle slips Kuroo’s lips as you falter at the sudden tone change, the volleyball gym seeming bigger than ever as his next sentence makes your lips tremble.

“Since I can’t ever take things seriously, then I must not need my serious girlfriend then, right?” Your eyes widen. “I can just find somebody else who won’t fucking hound me all the time.”

His cat-like eyes widen as the words slip his tongue, unintentionally coming out crueler than he intended. To make it worse, you simply stayed silent, your body physically backing down and away from him as you turned on your heel.

“Wait, I didn’t-”

“Do it then.” His chest just about shatters as your shoulders tremble, refusing to turn back around as your voice takes on an uncharasterically defeated tone. “I hope they make you fucking happy.”

Kuroo runs a hand through his raven hair frustratedly at the way you rushed out of the gym, throwing a stray ball so hard at the wall before his vision becomes skewed with heat.

He should have expected the next week to be utter hell. You left class before he could catch you by escaping to the bathroom with all your things, leaving school another way instead of the exit you always took together before he had to start club activities.

“Kenma, what are you doing?”

“You can’t come in here.”

“I’m missing class for this. Let me through.”

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Kenma shrugged, eyes on his handheld. “I told her I’d watch the door so you can’t surprise her during our breaktime.”

“I’m her boyfriend. And you’re not her guarddog.”

“No, I’m her friend.” Kenma’s eyes narrow at his childhood friend. “And last time I checked, you’re on the search for someone who isn’t her.”

“So she told you.”

“Dick move, by the way.”

Kuroo’s calls go straight to voicemail, his emotions affecting his playing with each passing day. He leaves little notes in your shoe locker to meet him, heart sinking more and more with every time you stood him up.

And it wasn’t until he saw you smiling again at a joke Yaku made that he truly felt like he was losing you.

“Go home.”

The sight wasn’t one you were expecting to see, Kuroo sitting on the steps to your house with his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, the dark bags under his eyes sparking worry within you.

“It’s probably better if my parents don’t see you-”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes seem to have lost a little of their glint, regret swimming in the tall boy’s pupils as your guard softens. “I’m so goddamn sorry I ran my mouth and said shit I didn’t even mean-”

“Tetsurou-”

“And I hurt you in the process. I hurt the one thing that matters to me the most, and I’m sitting here playing the creepy ex that stalks the girl he loves-”

“You love me?”

“Doesn’t matter, does it? You’re done with me, and I deserve it-”

He’s cut off with the sight of tears hitting the wood in front of him, lifting his head to see tears streaking down your cheeks. On instinct, he reaches out softly, rising to his feet to cup your cheek, astonished when you curl into his touch.

“I’m so fucking mad at you right now.”

“Noted.” Kuroo laughs somberly, a wave of emotion hitting him as you do something you hadn’t done in days.

You look him in the eye, tugging him closer by the sides of his jacket.

“But I love you too, you absolute idiot.”

Kuroo grins into the kiss you press onto his lips, heart lifting in weight as he pulls you closer.

“Does this mean we can go back to Tetsu?”

“I’m going back to ignoring you-”

“No.” Kuroo’s tone turns serious as he holds you a little tighter. “I can’t do that again.”

You smile as he presses a kiss to your temple lovingly.

“Being away from you was complete and utter hell, sweetheart.”

Akaashi Keiji

“Tell me how to make this right.”

“Right, Y/N.” Akaashi refused to meet your eyes as he loosens his school tie, not slowing his pace for you to catch up with as he throws the doors open to the volleyball club. The usually put-together setter had an angry glint in his eye that silenced his awaiting teammates. “Let’s just go back in time before you agreed to be his partner.”

“Hey hey, what’s going on you two?” Bokuto jogs up, his worried tone making your lips tremble even more at the sight of Akaashi’s turned back.

“I came to you as soon as he made a move! I didn’t let him-”

“There shouldn’t have been an opportunity for him to make a move in the first place.” Akaashi’s jaw clenched as you shuffle in place.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, you think I wanted him to try to kiss me?!” You fight the waver in your voice, standing your ground. “It was a project for class. I didn’t know his intentions-“

“I told you what his intentions were, but you never listen.” Akaashi turns hastily, startling you and causing you to stumble slightly backwards into Bokuto.

“Akaashi-“

“Stop defending her. She never listens to me, and then comes crying to me when it turns out I’m right.” Akaashi snips at his best friend, ignoring the silent stares from his quiet teammates. “Why can’t you get it through your head, Y/N? I’m not your goddamn babysitter-“

“You’re right.” You interrupt, fingernails biting into your palms as you choke back a sob. “You’re not, you’re my boyfriend. I just wanted to respect you by coming to you with something like this, but it turns out I’m just a hinderance.”

Akaashi falters for a second, blue eyes widening a fraction at the angry heat that fills your eyes as regret begins to bubble in his stomach at his harsh words.

“Y/N-“

“Give me some space, Keiji.” You say softly, patting Bokuto’s arm to let you through as your shoulders sink in a defeated manner. “I promise I won’t come crying to you about anything else.”

Your steps echo as you walk out of the gym, Konoha breaking the silence first when the door shuts behind you.

“Hate to say it, but that was well-deserved, man.”

Akaashi closes his eyes, head falling back towards the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing, pretending like he wasn’t scared of you slipping through his fingers. He willed himself to not allow himself to chase after you, his anger directed towards you fading as he forces himself to respect your wishes.

It was obvious you were avoiding him. Akaashi had blinked when Bokuto had self-proclaimed that he needed you as his “study buddy” during breaks when you weren’t even in the same year as the owlish boy. It got worse when you seemed to panic when Akaashi willed you to talk to him, eyes refusing to meet his watery blue ones as you pushed him further away.

So he gave you your space, wilting with each passing day. It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you a week later, the setter turning hastily on his heel to walk in the opposite direction before a soft tug on the back of his school shirt wills him to stop.

“Keiji.” Your wobbly voice makes him turn back around immediately, a soft palm already cupping your cheek gently. “I’m s-”

“I’m sorry for being cruel.” The words are whispered against your forehead, Akaashi’s heartstrings tugging in the worst way possible. “I was angry at the situation, my love. And that sorry excuse you call a classmate. Please,”

His grip tightens just a little more as he feels wet warmth drip into the palm that was cupping your face.

“Forgive me.”

“I told you I wouldn’t come crying to you-”

“I want it all, Y/N.” Akaashi pulls back slightly, voice cracking slightly as blue stares intensely into your irises. “I want all of you. Tears included.”

You swat his chest playfully as Akaashi manages a soft smile, hand threaded through your hair as he presses you against his chest.

“Do you still need space?” He murmurs, and you smile at the sound of his hearbeat picking up as he awaited your answer fearfully.

“Nope. The exact opposite, please hold me?”

His embrace relaxes immediately, and your heart skips a beat at the sound of his relieved sigh, his slight nod making the weight lift off your chest.

“Good, now I can take care of your classmate-”

“Keiji-”

“Nope, my love.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, Akaashi’s eyes swirling with devotion.

“No one gets to try anything with you so long as you’re safe with me.”

Tsukishima Kei

“So I’m the bad guy again.”

“Do you want the honest answer, Kei?” You exhaustedly run a hand through your hair as Tsukishima’s scowl deepens, his long legs easily catching up with you in stride as he tugs on your wrist as the rambunctious court gets further and further away.

“It’s not my fault you’re insecure.”

You flinch. “Well maybe you shouldn’t let the girls in the stands cling to you after your matches. They were all over you, Tsukki! And you didn’t seem to mind it one bit.”

“What?” Annoyance brims the blonde’s voice as he takes another step forward, clenching his jaw when he sees the quiver in your lip, distrust filling the atmosphere between the two of you.

“Afraid that they’re prettier or better than you’ll ever be?”

You feel as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, breath catching in your throat at his insinuation. His guard slackens almost immediately, clicking his tongue before turning away, too proud to apologize for the words he regretted as soon as they slipped his tongue like venom.

“Yeah.” You laugh humorlessly, making brown eyes dart over to your expression immediately. “You’re 100% correct. I am afraid you’ll find someone better than me in all aspects. Because I love you, you absolute asshole. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The silence that befalls the two of you in the deserted hall is broken when you flinch away when Tsukishima tries to take a step towards you.

“I didn’t-”

“You never mean to do anything, Kei.” You say in a hushed tone, turning your back on him in an attempt to shield the hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “But you somehow always manage to.”

The win for Karasuno didn’t mean much to the blonde that night, hoping that this would just go away and things would be back to normal. However, it was anything but. You didn’t look his way once in class, disappearing when it was over. Your voice trembled as you had avoided his seemingly stoic eyes through his frames, simply stating that you wished for some time away from him.

He was fine. Or at least pretending to be on the outside. In truth, he would never find better, because you were it for him, words that you would never catch slipping his mouth. So he put on a front, pretending that your absence had zero effect on him whatsoever. Pretending the brush of your body against him in the hall as you pass each other didn’t make the blonde want to cave.

It was the smile you shot at Hinata during one of your breaks that caused him to. The first glint in your eye in awhile, and it had been caused by him of all people, prompting the tall middle blocker to tug you by the forearm into the corridor.

“Tsukishima-”

“I hate this.”

You falter for a second, guard back up in a flash as your back touches the wall. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, and it’s pissing me off.”

“I don’t follow-”

“I was wrong.” His forehead touches your shoulder as you stiffen before relaxing against his familiar touch. “I don’t care how many times I have to apologize. You win, okay? I’m sorry.”

“This is a rather aggressive apology-”

“Y/N.” Tsukishima lifts his head so it’s level with your height, unprepared for the way tears brimmed your eyes at the proximity, your guard diminishing.

“What if you do find someone better one day, Tsukki?” Your voice cracks, inner fears trickling to the surface. “Do I need to prepare myself to lose you-?”

You gasp as Tsukishima’s jaw ticks before kissing you intensely, his hand touching your lower back to pull you closer.

“No. You don’t need to do something stupid like that.” His eyes were slightly glaring at you, a flush across both his cheeks. “Because there is no one better than you, okay?”

It was your turn for heat to flood your cheeks as your eyes widen a fraction, his breath tickling your ear as you stutter. “Kei-”

“I love you too. I said it, are you satisfied now?”

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @faesbae @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs @spikertrash @yamaguwuchi @lord-suneater-explosion @holaaaf @babyybokutoakaashi @lexysclubhouse @disneyloving-muggle @kuuuuroo @theonep1ece @that-chick212 @mjoork

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

can’t buy me ~ jimmy smith jr.;8 mile

word count: 1577

request?: yes!

@girl-toxxic "reader and Jimmy are in a relationship not long ago but Jimmy was always in love and they both live in the same place, ok but let's say that reader meets a new friend at work (she is a waitress or can be a babysitter for a rich girl) and this new friend has a lot of money and is very interested in reader and the reader get along well and this makes Jimmy insecure, since reader's friend gives him small gifts and helps him a lot. But you can add something that is more interesting as the boy confesses his feelings to the reader and she rejects him since Jimmy is her great love and he tells her how can she go out with that poor devil ... or something else interesting what occurs to you. And that this ends in a lot of love and smut, bah if you feel comfortable🤗💕💕"

description: in which her new friend keeps trying to make advances through gifts, but her heart belongs to one man

pairing: jimmy smith jr. x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

I walked through the door and made a beeline for the kitchen to throw away yet another gift from my not so secret admirer. The last thing I needed was for Jimmy to see what Mark had give me and to get upset about it.

I worked as a waitress at a bar and grill down the road from mine and Jimmy’s house. The hours were only okay, but the tips more than made up for it, especially after our newest regular, Mark, started dining there and specifically asked to have me as his server whenever he was in.

Mark was in his late 30s, handsome, worked a good job that paid good money. He came in one night after he had a particularly hard shift. He sat at the bar, and it was the night I was working it, so I talked him through his rough day. Next thing I knew, he was coming back and asking for me again. We became friendly, but it took me a little too long to realize he wanted to be more than friends.

I turned the corner and yelped as I realized I wasn’t alone. Jimmy was leaning against the counter, almost like he was waiting for me.

“Hey babe,” I said. “I thought you were at the Shelter with Future tonight.”

His eyes flickered to the gift bag in my hand. “He wanted me to come home. We haven’t had a night together in months.”

“Doesn’t help that we both work late night jobs,” I tried to joke. The bag felt heavy in my hand as Jimmy kept looking at it.

“That rick prick buy you more useless shit?” he asked.

“Jimmy,” I sighed.

“Sorry, I forgot it was okay for some rich jackass to buy my girlfriend expensive gifts.”

He wouldn’t meet my eye. He kept glancing around the kitchen, every so often looking down at the bag in my hand. I dropped everything I was holding onto the floor, including that stupid gift, and raced over to hug him.

“Hey,” I said, softly, resting my head on his chest. “Hey, you know there’s nothing to this. It’s just a guy who doesn’t understand I’m not interested.”

“It’s a guy who has money.”

I lighted my head to look at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Nothing, never mind.”

I pulled away from him. “No, tell me.” When he didn’t speak, I took his chin in my hand and forced him to look at me. “Jimmy, do you think I’d leave you for someone who makes more money?”

“He’d be able to give you what you deserve,” he responded. “A house, a car, expensive gifts - ”

“We have a house,” I cut him off. “You have a car, and I don’t want expensive gifts. I don’t want materialistic things, I want happiness and love, and that’s what I get with you. You really have nothing to worry about in regards to Mark. You’re the one I’ll always want.”

Jimmy sighed and pulled me close. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’ll give you that reassurance any day.”

I leaned up to kiss him. He relaxed into the kiss and I leaned into him more.

When he pulled away, Jimmy turned to look at the forgotten present on the floor. “What did that asshole get you this time anyways?”

I picked up the bag and pulled out the box that was inside. Jimmy opened the box to reveal the gold necklace Mark had given me. The pendant was gold to match, and it was my initial.

“I was gonna chuck it when I got home,” I told him. It’s way too flashy for me, it wouldn’t match anything I own.”

“Don’t throw it out. This is, like, real gold. We can sell it for a good chunk of money.”

I smiled. “I like the way you think, Rabbit.”

~~~~~~

The next day, Jimmy had the night off from the Shelter so he drove me to work. He followed me into the bar and grill with the intentions of sitting at the bar for an hour or two before going home. One of my co-workers spotted us as we walked in and gave me a panicked look. I immediately knew what she was trying to tell me.

I saw Mark sat at the bar before he saw me. I was about to turn to Jimmy to warn him when Mark spotted me and rose from his seat. He had a wide smile on his face, until he saw Jimmy behind me.

“Two nights in a row, Mark?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Those wings and nachos are gonna start getting to you.”

“I went to the gym this morning, so it cancels out,” he responded. “Who’s this with you?”

“This is my boyfriend, Jimmy. I told you about him, remember?”

“Oh yeah, the...rapper,” Mark said. I didn’t miss the way he sneered the word “rapper”, and Jimmy didn’t either.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mark shrugged. “Nothing. Just stating a fact that (Y/N) told me. Although, rapping at that rundown warehouse probably doesn’t pay as much as a real job would.”

Jimmy stepped towards Mark, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Hey, he’s not worth it. Just go home. Thank you for the ride.”

Jimmy glared at Mark before turning to walk away. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the situation seemed to defuse easily.

And then Matt spoke again, “Yeah, go back to the trailer park, white trash.”

Jimmy snapped and charged at Mark before I could stop him. He knocked Mark to the ground and reared up to hit him. I quickly grabbed his arm and pulled as hard as I could until Jimmy was off of Mark.

“Get out before security gets called,” I told him.

He got to his feet and walked out the door before anything else could happen. Mark was getting to his feet and adjusting his clothes. I was trying to calm myself down as I regarded him.

“Please leave, Mark.”

“Seriously? Your trailer trash boyfriend attacked me, but you’re kicking me out?”

“You provoked him.”

“I wasn’t saying anything he hasn’t heard before, or anything that wasn’t true.”

“Fuck off!” I snapped, my anger finally bubbling over. “You are fucking insufferable! I’ve told you on multiple occasions that I have a boyfriend, that I’m not interested. Most people would take the fucking hint and move on. The way you’ve been acting, especially tonight, is way out of line. I want you to get the fuck out and if I ever see you here again I will contact the authorities and have you charged for harassment.”

Mark blinked, realized I was being serious, and finally left. He muttered some less than ideal names towards me as he walked out the door. I sighed and buried my head in my hands. I was grateful that there wasn’t many customers in the area as all of this went down.

“Hey.” I looked up at my co-worker, who was now in front of me. “Go check on your man.”

I thanked her and quickly walked out the door. I didn’t expect him to still be outside, so I was surprised to see him stood by his car, almost like he was waiting for me to come out.

“Did I get you in trouble?”

I gave him a small smile and shook my head. “No. If anything, you did me a favor. When it became evident that Mark wasn’t taking no for an answer, all of us wanted to ban him from the place entirely, but we weren’t allowed unless he really caused trouble. I think it’s safe to say starting a fight is more than probable cause to make sure he never comes back.”

Jimmy was nodding and rubbing the back of his head. “I probably could’ve handled that better though.”

“I didn’t expect you to handle it any other way,” I said. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Are you okay?”

Jimmy chuckled slightly. “Cocksucker didn’t even try to hit me. Did you see his face when I tackled him? He looked like he shit himself.”

I giggled. “Yeah, he’s definitely not a fighter. He’s too much like a high school mean girl for someone who works an office job and makes as much money as he does.”

Jimmy wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him, resting his chin on top of my head. “I’m glad you stopped me. I wouldn’t beat the shit out of him if you didn’t.”

“I would’ve liked to see that.”

We both stood in silence for a while. I buried my nose in Jimmy’s sweater, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. It made a warm feeling swell inside of me, like a safe feeling. It reminded me of how I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than in Jimmy’s arms, or with anyone else besides Jimmy. No amounts of money, or people like Mark could ever change my mind about that.

“I should actually go to work,” I said, reluctantly untangling myself from Jimmy’s arms. “I’ll see you when I get off?”

“Of course, I’ll come pick you up.”

I smiled and kissed his cheek. I started back towards the restaurant, but paused to turn back to Jimmy. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#jimmy smith #jimmy smith jr #jimmy smith jr imagine #jimmy smith jr x reader #eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #8 mile #8 mile imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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justauthoring · 3 years

Text

Precious To Us [2]

In other words, you’re Seijoh’s manager.

This chapter, Oikawa’s fangirls.

A/N: Here it is! The second part! I had one person request an idea (thanks @minigranger) and I definitely plan on writing it soon but I love the trope of manager vs. fangirls that I can’t help myself. As usual, please send in ideas :)

Listen, Oikawa’s fangirls are mean.

They just are.

It doesn’t really matter to them that you’re a first year, if they’re supposed to be your seniors, they would probably still be bitches even if you were their seniors and in second/third year.

They seem to think Oikawa’s theirs, even though, of course, he isn’t and if asked, he definitely would deny.

And they see you as a threat.

A big, big threat.

Who gets to see Oikawa everyday? You. Who gets to see him practice every day? You. Who gets a front row to seat to every one of his games? You. And who does he flirt with? You.

It doesn’t matter if you reciprocate the flirting or not -- which of course, you don’t -- they’re jealous and they blame it all on you.

Honestly, the first month of managing is fine.

Now that you know who Oikawa is and you’re around him more, you do notice the fangirls, but they don’t really bother you and you’re too focused trying to learn the ropes to really care about their constant presence.

You know you’ve heard some of the other members, namely the third years, complain about them.

About how annoying and distracting they were when it came to practice, or just the mere fact that Oikawa seemed to revel in the attention and love.

You’ve heard them, but you don’t really say anything otherwise because they’ve never done anything to you so you don’t really care either or.

Besides, even if you do think it’s tad bit pathetic, you can’t deny they’re devoted and you guess, in some ways... good for them?

But when you don’t stop being manager, and the rest of the team, namely Oikawa, don’t get sick of you like they all expect them to, and a month passes and you seem to just be thriving, getting a long with everyone, and finally getting the hang of everything?

That’s when they attack.

You’re already late.

And even if you know none of the boys or even the coaches will be upset with you, you do like to be punctual and you absolutely hate being late. So, you’re rushing, practically sprinting through the halls as you try to gather your bearings and organize everything you need to.

You’re already thinking of what drills Oikawa will have the team do, and what you can do to help. Maybe you could bring up some of the notes you’ve made? You’re not a hundred percent on the terms, but Iwaizumi has been helping you, and you’re sure you’ve picked up on a few of the techniques and things you think the boys could improve on.

You didn’t want them to think you’re imposing, but this was the job of the manager wasn’t it? They always reminded you you were more then just a water girl, and that they greatly appreciated anything advice you had for them from an outsider point of view, so maybe--

Landing with a loud thud, a groan leaves your lips as you feel your chin smack against the concrete floor beneath you. It takes you a second to gather your bearings, baffled at how you were suddenly on the ground, and trying to ignore the pain at having bitten your own tongue. But the second you hear laughter, you realized exactly what had happened and your head turns around to stare at the three girls stood above you in bafflement.

They’re laughing at you, quite loudly and obvious mocking you, but your eyes narrow in bafflement when you realize you’re positive you’ve seen them before. You just can’t place your thumb on it. They’re not in your class, one of them doesn’t even seem to be in your year, and you don’t think you’d remember some random face you’d passed in the hall, so--

That’s right. You’ve seen them hanging around Oikawa before, and the one older girl had even snuck into practice one day.

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you move to gather your stuff, only for it to be kicked out of your grasp.

“What the--!”

“Listen.”

You blink when the older one, clearly the leader or whatever, is suddenly directly before you, barely a breaths away, glaring down at you.

“You need to quit being manager for Oikawa-san’s volleyball team.”

And your eyes widen, baffled, lips parting as you shake your head; “I don’t--”

“I think you perfectly understand,” the girl behind her sneers, eyes cold.

“We don’t like how close you were with Oikawa-san.”

“And we’re sure Oikawa-san’s sick of seeing your ugly face every day.”

You’re stunned silent. Honestly, you’re not really sure what to say.

“We’ll give you till the end of the week,” the head girl smiles, but it’s a sickly sweet, filling you with dread. “Okay?”

She doesn’t wait for you to respond before her and the other two are walking off, clearly proud of themselves if they way they walk and hold themselves is anything to go by.

It’s takes you five minutes to gather yourself before you start making your way to the gym again for practice.

Part of you wants to just skip and go home but you know the boys would be concerned, more then they probably already are given how late you are, and really, it would just cause more issues in the end anyways.

Besides, you’re never one to skip anyways.

You don’t cry. You’re not really sure why because you definitely want to, but the tears never come and then you’re suddenly in the gym and everyone's rushing towards you in concern, questions leaving their lips rapidly as to why you were so late.

You brush them off, and it almost works, before Iwaizumi takes notice of the dried blood on the corner of your lip that you’d regrettably missed when cleaning yourself up earlier and the scrape underneath your chin.

“What happened to your chin, Y/N? You’re bleeding.”

He steps towards you, but you brush him off.

“I just tripped is all. Bit my tongue.”

You smile and hope it’s enough to convince them, but even if Iwaizumi looks like he wants to argue, Oikawa’s already pulling him back onto the court.

“You’re so clumsy, Y/N-chan! You really do need to be more careful!”

Some of the boys laugh and you do too, forcing yourself to pretend like everything’s fine even though you can physically feel yourself shaking.

But even as he’s being dragged away, Iwaizumi is still eyeing you and you don’t let him grow anymore suspicious then you can tell he is. You send him a soft smile, and then turn, making your way over to the coach to see where you can help for the day.

And it continues on like that for week.

By the next day, every seems to have forgotten you being late and only Makki makes a teasing comment about the cat themed bandaid on your chin to which you begrudgingly shove him away with a shrill “it’s the only ones we have!” and you seem more like yourself then you had the day before that by the second day, even Iwaizumi has relaxed.

By the end of the week, even he seems to have forgotten about it.

But you haven’t.

And it being the end of the week has you scared.

Kindaichi seems to notice your weird behaviour in class, especially now that the two of you tend to stick together now that you’re acquainted. But you brush him off every time he asks, saying you just felt ill.

He seems to believe it fine.

Luckily for you, nothing happens.

You’re on edge all day expecting something to happen, but nothing ever does.

Aiko, the third year and clear ring leader of that little group, never approaches you. In fact, you don’t see her once all day, which that in itself isn’t odd since you’re in different years, but you had expected to see her lackies -- either Makoto, a first year like you, or even Nami, a second year.

But you don’t.

By the final bell, you’re relieved.

It was just a mindless threat. It didn’t mean anything clearly, and they had just been poking fun, and honestly you were fine with that -- so long as you didn’t have to deal with them again.

You’d just have to be more wary of the fangirls. Maybe they weren’t as kind as you thought you were, and clearly they thought you posed some kind of threat (even though you definitely didn’t) so you’d just keep it in mind and--

“I’m pretty sure we told you by the end of the week.”

It’s a harsh thud, you don’t fall to the ground like you did last time, but you do thud against the lockers which dig painfully into your back. And regrettably you let a small cry in response, which pales in comparison to the cry of pain that leaves your lips when one of them grab a chunk of your hair and tug, hard.

Pushing at the hands that grab at you, you spin, not surprise to see the same three as before, sneering down at you.

Aiko spits down at you. “Clearly you didn’t listen.”

“I’m not gonna just quit,” you whisper, feigning the confidence to speak up for yourself. Your eyes narrow up at her, even though your heart is racing madly against you chest, and shake your head adamantly. “I love managing the volleyball team, and it’s not even because of Oikawa-senpai! I love being will all the boys, and I won’t let you--!”

“You really are just a slut.”

You’re stunned silent, lips left parted.

“Listen, I gave you a week, you didn’t listen.” Aiko scoffs, shaking her head as she brushes her hair back, glaring down at you. “I’ll show you what happens when I don’t get my way.”

She strikes you hard, across the cheek, and naively, you think that’s it. You can handle some punches and kicks, because you really don’t want to give up the one thing that’s made you happy for the first time in a long time. Even as the hits continue, and your body starts to ache, you think,

I can handle this.

But still, you end up skipping practice that day. You blame it on the fact the fact that you just didn’t want to have to explain why you looked so battered and messed up, knowing this time no amount of lying was going to get you out of this one. Because, really, it wouldn’t just be Iwaizumi suspicious this time -- all the boys will be, and then they’ll probably talk to the coach and...

and, it’s just to much a fuss for you. So, you skip, sending a text to Oikawa explaining that you weren’t feeling well and you’d be back Monday and to please apologize on the coaches behalf for you.

But you don’t go back the next day.

When you open your locker the next Monday, your homework that you’d finished during lunch to previous day to get a head start is ruined. Completely and wholeheartedly ruined.

And when you glance around, the first thing you see is Makoto from across the hallway, smirking at you.

But you don’t have any proof.

So, you suck back the tears that threaten to fall, and sulk to your first class where you know the teacher will be less then pleased.

And of course she isn’t, but she simply sighs and tells you that if you don’t have it in by tomorrow, she’ll have to give you a failing grade.

Embarrassed and upset, you walk to your seat, ignoring Kindaichi’s watchful gaze as you sink into your seat.

But it only gets worse from there.

The second class starts, a note is tossed onto your desk.

You eye, confused, glancing around for who threw it, only for everyone to be faced forward, before glancing briefly at Kindaichi’s whose watching your curiously.

Slowly, you open it.

Is it true you actually slept with all of the volleyball team?

Laughter echoes, but when you look up, there’s three girls staring at you, all mockingly.

Kindaichi leans forward, trying to grab the note but you pull it from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.

He cannot see that.

And when the class ends, you narrowly avoid Kindaichi who calls for you, rushing out of the class, only for someone to bump into you the second you make it out, shoving harshly into your shoulder.

“Slut.” The voice sneers.

Your lips part, and you glance up, feeling your vision blur, but when you glance around, you suddenly notice the looks everyone’s giving you, and the way they laugh and sneer at you.

But what really makes you break is when you turn, feeling like everyone’s against you, and find Kindaichi staring at you with parted lips, obviously confused, and you just can’t hold it back then, turning without another word, and running off.

The day continues like that, and after lunch, which you spent alone hidden in a bathroom stall, you see Iwaizumi and Oikawa ahead of you, smiling when they notice you.

They look as if they want to talk, but you know then you absolutely cannot like that happen, for multiple reasons, so you turn around quickly, running off in the opposite direction despite the way they call after you.

You don’t go back to practice like you said you would.

And neither do you Tuesday.

When Wednesday rolls around, and every laughs at you when you walk pass them in the halls, or sneers at you, or looks at you like you’re the most disgusting thing, you go to the office when you realize you can’t handle this any longer.

No matter how much you love being on the team and managing the boys.

Little do you know, in class, Kindaichi notices the odd coloured paper in your hands and curiously, maybe even worriedly (because there’s a sinking feeling in his gut) peers over your shoulder as subtle as he can, lips parting when he reads the header.

Permission to quite a club form.

“I think Y/N’s going to quite the team.”

It’s the first words he says when he enters the club room that day, and it makes everybody pause.

Silence echoes, and slowly, unsurely, Yahaba shakes his head; “what-what are you talking about, Kindaichi? I thought Y/N said she just wasn’t feeling well, which is why--”

“I saw the form this morning,” Kindaichi shakes his head, “I know what I read.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Y/N would’ve talked to us first if something was upsetting her. She wouldn’t just--”

“Haven’t you guys heard the rumours going around?”

It’s Kunimi who speaks this time, his voice the similar drawl it always is, but if you look at him close enough, it’s easy to tell that he’s concerned. Upset even. And he looks disgusted as he speaks, eyeing Kindaichi first, almost knowingly, before turning to the other boys.

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow; “what are you talk--”

“I think someone’s been bullying her,” Kindaichi frowns. “It started at the beginning of the week. Y/N came in with her homework ruined, which I thought was weird, because she always is so careful with her work and makes sure it’s done early. And then someone tossed this note onto her desk but she wouldn’t let me read it, and she wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me all class. Then, when class was over, people were... well--”

“There’s a rumour going around that’s she’s slept with all of us.”

It’s Kunimi who finishes it, Kindaichi’s face beet red, which quite a few of the boys mimic seconds later when Kunimi finishes.

But Oikawa? Oikawa just looks pissed.

“What?”

Kindaichi blanches, looking absolutely terrified; “I thought you knew! I didn’t--”

Oikawa storms past him, Iwaizumi quick to follow, and then Mattsun and Makki are right behind them. The first and second years glance at each other, before slowly following them, and sure enough the third years are heading straight for the gym, to which none of them are surprised to find you there, a form in your shaky hands as you stare at Coach Mizoguchi.

You turn to them with wide eyes, clearly having hoped to finish before any of the boys started practice. But Mizoguchi looks relieved. “Thank God you boys are here,” he breathes, standing up to which you try to stop him, but he isn’t listening, “Y/N wants to quit, but I really think she should talk to you first,” he’s looking directly at Oikawa, “she won’t tell me why. And please Y/N,” he turns to you, “I think you should reconsider.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Oikawa cuts in, voice oddly low before you can say anything.

Mizoguchi smiles, nodding at you before making his way over the gym obviously in search of Irihata. Instantly the tension thickens when you’re left alone with all eyes directly and solely on you.

It takes a second to find the words. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to any of you about it, but I...” And your voice falters, even you can’t help the way your voice quivers. “I think it’s best if I just quit.”

“You’re not quitting.” It’s Iwaizumi who speaks this time, and his voice is so firm, so sure, even if you’re not sure how to argue against it.

“But I-I--”

“You don’t need to quite,” Oikawa shakes his head, stepping towards you and pulling the form from your grasp with ease. You watch with parted lips as he simply rips it right in front of you, tossing it aside without much care, before glancing back at the rest, namely the other third years, turning back to you. “Now, tell us, who told you you had to quit?”

And your eyes bulge. How did he--

“Kindaichi and Kunimi told us about everything,” Iwaizumi starts, moving towards you, as your eyes fall to the first years, watching the way they both, even Kunimi, stare after you in concern. “We know someone’s been bothering you, so, just tell us.”

“We’ll help you,” Watari adds with a smile, hesitantly speaking up.

And you pause, unsure. But then you stare at them all watching you carefully, and see how all of them care so much, more then you ever thought they did and you’re reminded of why you’d refused to quit in the first place. Reminded of how much you love managing the volleyball team and no matter how much you were scared and hurt, you didn’t want to lose it all.

Lose them.

“It’s... It’s a few, three actually, of Oikawa-senpai’s fangirls,” you mumble, voice low, head turned downwards. “They... They don’t like how much time I spend with him, so they... they told me to quit and when I refused, they...” You don’t need to finish.

There’s a pause, before a slap echoes.

“Somehow I knew this was your fault, Shittykawa.”

“Ow!” Oikawa cries, “Iwa-chan, it’s not like I...” But he seems to pause, lips parting as he glances down at you, his heart breaking slightly at the tears in your eyes.

Stepping forward, he pulls you into a hug, and you let him; “I’m sorry, Y/N-chan, I didn’t know they were hurting you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is,” Mattsun comments, stepping forward as he smiles down at you, ruffling your hair. “It’s easier to blame him anyways.”

“I agree,” Makki laughs.

And even you find yourself laughing lightly.

“Really, Y/N-chan? Even you too?”

“Sorry.”

Then, everyone turns serious; “I’ll talk to them,” Oikawa frowns. “What they did isn’t okay. I won’t let them get away with it. They’ll never bother you again, Y/N.”

And you’re surprised by how serious he is.

But things do get better.

Aiko never bothers you again, nor does any other one of Oikawa’s fangirls.

Oikawa even makes her apologize, and even you have to admit the absolute mortification on her face makes everything a lot better.

The boys try to stop the rumour, but it’s easier said then done, though, the fame of it all does dwindle and you’re not snided in the hallways so much anymore.

It’s kind of hard to when you usually have one of the third years walking you to and from class anyways.

Besides, they’re your friends, and even if everyone else hates you, they don’t.

And that’s all that matters to you.

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wkemeup · 3 years

Note

favorite fanfic trope: enemies to lovers but it's the moment when their tension is at its peak 😈

title: The Mess I Made - submitted by anon summary: you may not be on the best terms with Bucky Barnes, but it doesn't stop you from coming to his defense prompt: “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.” / multiple requests for enemies to lovers word count: 1.5k a/n: enemies to lovers is already tough for me and to do it in drabble form is impossible for me because it requires a slow burn, but I did my best!!

You were on your way to the tower's gym when you heard Bucky’s voice echo from the end of the hall. Towel swung over your shoulder, headphones barely even grazed your ears as you paused, turning down the music. Bucky’s shadow danced over the walls as his run his hands through his hair. A woman’s shadow emerged next to him, her heels clicking against the tiles.

You rolled your eyes. Bucky’s latest string of conquests were an inconvenience at best. His pathetic attempt to rekindle whatever version of himself he idolized from the forties in the form of cheap, meaningless hookups was just another reason you made every effort to steer clear of Barnes. His seemingly indifference towards you made easy to do so.

Steve wouldn’t let it go – his questioning of why the two of you could never get along. It wasn’t that you hated Barnes. You didn’t know him well enough to hate him. You just didn’t care for what you saw. He was guarded and cold. Condescending and arrogant. Half the time, you barely believed Steve’s stories of Bucky’s charming days in the forties. The rare moments you caught his smile, it looked forced. It barely touched his eyes and he wore a mask to bring home women who spent their nights admiring an arm he would not allow them to touch.

The rare moments you thought you saw something genuine in him, he’d lashed out. The cracks in his foundation breaking through the surface in the screams at the night of dead of night, flinching at loud noises, the easy transition to taking orders and losing himself for the briefest of moments.

You’d made the mistake once of trying to comfort him. His eyes had glazed over in the middle of a conversation. There were dozens of agents around for the annual holiday party and Bucky was in another world entirely. His pupils were dilated, his hands shaking as he closed them to fists. You never learned what triggered it, but the moment you laid a gentle hand upon his forearm, Bucky had you in a chokehold.

It took both Sam and Tony’s strength to wield Bucky away from you, all while he was practically foaming at the mouth, screaming at you to never touch him again. He was rabid as Sam and Tony struggled to hold him back. The whole party stopped to watch the scene unfold – as Bucky hurtled countless insults at you.

He was drinking Thor’s liquor. He had to have been. Half of what he said that night barely made any sense. None it worth the audacity to lay a hand upon his arm to draw him back from wherever his mind had taken him. Perhaps, if you weren’t so thoroughly humiliated, you might have considered as much.

But what he said that night stayed with you and you never let it go.

“Why don’t you stay, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice carried down the hall.

You tapped your foot impatiently at the elevators, desperate for an escape before he turned the corner. You noticed the woman’s heels were still clicking on the floors. She hadn’t stopped.

“Let me take you for breakfast, at least,” Bucky asked, a nervousness in his voice you didn’t recognize. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” The clicking ceased and you watched as the woman’s shadow placed a hand on Bucky’s chest, stilling him in an instant. “I thought you knew what this was.”

“I did. I do, but,” Bucky started, running a hand through his hair. You’d never seen him act this way before – so unsure of himself. The elevator doors open and closed as you watched his shadow sway on his heels. “I just... I want to try something different. Something... real and I thought, since we had a nice night together you might...”

“What?” the woman scoffed. “You thought I would want to date you?”

Bucky stiffened. Even his shadow appeared to mask into stone. Dread curdled in your stomach and you found yourself inching down the hall, approaching the shadows.

“Listen,” the woman crooned, “you were great last night and sleeping with the Winter Soldier is a hell of a story, but you’re not exactly... relationship material.”

You froze, stunned.

Bucky awkward cleared his throat. “I-I know, and I’m working on that. I just thought—”

“Oh my God, take the hint!” the woman exclaimed and you flinched in time with Bucky’s shadow against the wall. “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? Clearly all I wanted was a good lay. I thought I wouldn’t have to worry about this clingy shit with the Winter Soldier for Christ's sake. It’s incredible how low my standards were for you.”

“What the hell is your problem?”

You rounded the corner, tossing your workout gear aside as you came face to face with the woman. She was a beautiful as the rest of them were – tall, stunning, probably one of the models you’ve seen on runways or on magazines. But her eyes were unkind, and dismissive.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she spat, shoving past your shoulder and heading to the elevator. You moved to block her when you felt the cold grasp of vibranium curl around your wrist, yanking you out of her path.

“Hey!” you yelped, watching as the woman made her escape into the elevator. You snatched your hand back, massaging at the tender muscle. “What the hell, Barnes?”

“I don’t need you coming to my rescue,” Bucky bit back. “I had it handled.”

You scoffed, the image of Bucky’s form flinching as she called him ‘pathetic’ still fresh in your mind. You’d never known him to back down from a fight. Hell, he’d gotten into a screaming match with a paparazzi for daring to ask how his morning jog went. Bucky didn’t roll over and play dead. But he let that woman wrap a hand around his throat until he choked.

“Sure looked handled,” you rolled your eyes. “She was walking all over you.”

“My sex life is not your concern,” he growled, his voice low as his eyes hooded.

“I never said a damn thing about your sex life, Barnes.” You shook your head, already regretting stepping in at all. It was pointless – foolish even – to think that he might be appreciative of your intervention, of the fact that despite the tense history between you, you would never stoop as low as that woman did.

You bent down and picked up the gym bag you’d let slip from your hands. “If you want to be treated like shit, then by all means, have fun with your next one night stand. I'll steer clear of the fallout.”

You started to head back towards the gym when you heard Bucky groan rather dramatically behind you. You paused, glancing over your shoulder as Bucky hit a fit against the wall.

“What is your—”

“You are so goddamn infuriating!” Bucky snapped and your jaw dropped.

“Are you serious right now? Me? I’m the infuriating one?” You released your bag, letting the weights hit the floor as you stalked back to him. “You’re the ungrateful jerk who just yelled at the one person who bothered to stand up for you!”

Bucky gritted his teeth. “I never asked you to do that!”

He was only inches away. His breath hot against your cheeks. You could see the dark blue specs in his eyes from this close. The blacks of his eyes nearly consuming him whole.

“Maybe that’s your problem, Barnes,” you sneered. “You think you need to ask for help, that it’s earned or deserved, but it’s not! Sometimes people just want to help you, you asshole! Sometimes, people can be good and can care about you without expecting that you—”

Your back hit the wall as Bucky’s weight pressed to your chest. His lips crashed against yours, his hand slipping into your hair. Everything in him moved with purpose, with adrenaline spiked into his veins and fury in his bones – but not his hands. Even as his lips hungrily devoured yours, his hands were gentle as they caressed the nape of you neck, as they slid down your hips.

What surprised you more – was that you kissed him back. Your hand clutched into the thin fabric of his t-shirt, your lips parting for him as he brushed him tongue over yours. It was the kind of kiss that left you feel dizzy – like you’d been under for too long, your lungs aching, and still you had no desire for air.

When he finally did draw back, it was only when he was breathless. His chest panting in time with yours, his forehead dipping to rest against your collarbone. He paused for a moment, even as his fingers gently pressed into the nape of your neck as if upon keys of a piano.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Bucky confessed.

You chuckled. “I do.”

He lifted his head and you smiled when you saw his lips were pink and swollen. You brushed a hand over his cheek.

“Because even when I hated you, I still cared about you, Barnes. It’s not black and white. It’s messy and it’s grey. But I can handle a little mess, can’t you?”

Bucky swallowed, slow to the smile that crept upon his lips, but still—it came. “Yeah, I can handle messy.”

When he kissed you again, he didn’t hesitate.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #drabble night

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes]

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond.

Everyday began much the same.

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work.

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point.

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes.

But not today.

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little.

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?”

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way.

It had been eight years ago.

A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg.

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back.

But the nerve damage stayed.

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches.

But it wasn’t something I could hide.

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed.

The girl who couldn’t walk.

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place.

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.”

I smiled a little.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said .

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.”

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly.

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole.

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered.

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy.

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed.

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be.

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company.

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son.

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing.

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me.

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad.

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it.

It was a brutal sort of realization.

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change.

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate.

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed.

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking.

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me?

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone and of course, how little he cared about me.

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid.

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him.

There was a reason. There had to be.

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days.

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me.

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant.

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

Finally. Now he can’t leave you.

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in.

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face.

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here?

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped.

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me.

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms.

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?”

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare.

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively.

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated.

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned.

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking.

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists.

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would.

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes . I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked.

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away.

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened.

“Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt.

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly.

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway.

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it?

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it.

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day.

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked.

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch.

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared ,

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously.

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left.

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either.

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate.

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place.

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me.

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting.

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name.

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning.

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something.

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed.

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?”

He exhaled sharply.

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long.

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled.

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint.

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened.

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head.

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore.

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly.

Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out.

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost.

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath.

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it.

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face.

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.”

Silence.

“Have you told your parents?”

I exhaled sharply.

“No.”

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him.

“No.” I said softly.

He sighed.

“Alright. Should I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?”

I laughed.

“How very practical of you..” i said.

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly.

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted.

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us?

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently.

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?”

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt.

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.”

I turned away.

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly.

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling.

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down.

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest.

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing.

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling.

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought.

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control.

#jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage #bts fic #bts arranged marriage fic #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkok fanfics #bts famnfics #bts fanfics

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nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

someone i once knew : b.b

bucky is left alone in the compound whilst the rest of the avengers are sent on a mission. yet, to bucky’s surprise he isn’t alone as he’s about to meet tony’s new assistant and someone from his past. (3.4k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

“You sure you’ll manage on your own?” Steve asks as he walks alongside Bucky.

Bucky quirks a brow at his oldest friend. “What, you don’t trust me?” He quips back, hearing Sam let out a dry laugh from the quinjet as he helps load the last of the supplies. “He doesn’t get an opinion.” Bucky adds, and Steve chuckles under his breath.

“I do trust you, Buck. But I just wanna make sure you’re okay being on your own here.” Steve explains, crossing his arms as Bucky buries his hands into his jacket pockets.

It was going to be Bucky’s first time being completely alone in the compound. Everyone else was required for a mission, and Bucky simply wasn’t needed this time. Initially, it stung a little- that Sam was going over him, but some downtime never hurt anyone, right?

“I’ll be alright, Steve.” Bucky states as Tony emerges from the elevator, huffing loudly as he looks at his phone.

“Oh, tin man? Do me a favour and don’t scare my new assistant,” Tony calls out, and Bucky looks to Steve who simply shrugs his shoulders.

“Since when did you hire an assistant?” Steve asks, and Tony stops beside them, locking his phone as he puts it into his pocket.

“Since I lost the last one,” Tony retorts.

“You married your old assistant, Tony.” Bucky comments and Tony simply rolls his eyes.

“Just, don’t scare her off, she has potential.” Tony remarks before carrying on toward the Quinjet, leaving Steve to bid farewell to Bucky.

Stepping back, Bucky rolls on his heels. “Guess I won’t be completely alone after all.” Bucky huffs. It is one thing to be alone in the compound with one of the other Avengers, but someone he hasn’t even met yet, that’s a level of confidence and comfortability he has yet to reach.

“Hey,” Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder. “you’ll be fine, just be your charming self.”

“I think he died back in the forties, pal.” Bucky mutters as he shrugs it off, it’s only for a few weeks at most.

“Just, don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says softly as he steps back from Bucky, turning around toward the Quinjet.

Shuffling on the spot, Bucky watches as they leave. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky mumbles to himself as he walks back into the compound, wandering whereabouts his company for the next few weeks is hiding out.

It had been a quiet few days and Bucky had still yet to meet the newest addition to Starks team and started to wonder if Tony was messing with him for the fun of it.

At least, he thought as much until he was training in the gym when the faint sound of the piano caught his attention.

Pausing his work out, Bucky couldn’t stop his curiosity from getting the better of him as he exits the gym, hearing a familiar melody clearly coming from the shared living space in the compound.

As stealthily as possible, Bucky enters the open space and can make out a figure sat at the usually absent grand piano. Tony purchased it a year ago to fill the space, even though no one could play, it did work in making the compound look somewhat homely.

Stepping further into the room, Bucky knew the song, his Mother always played it on her radio and witnessed her and his Father dancing to it.

Humming the tune, you remain oblivious to the company creeping into the room as you remain concealed by the bonnet of the piano.

“Wake and dream medley?” Bucky speaks up, and you jump in your seat, hitting the keys of the piano causing an awful blunt sound to echo in the open space. “Sorry,” Bucky adds, now retreating into himself as you remain hidden. “I, I could hear you from the gym, I love, loved that song.”

“No need to apologise,” You chuckle, and Bucky tenses upon hearing your voice.

It sounds so familiar, too familiar for his liking.

Rising to your feet, you rub your hands together before closing the bonnet of the piano, now in full view to Bucky who can feel his whole body shutting down.

Bucky steps back in disbelief, clinging onto the sofa behind him with all his might as you hesitantly step forward. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, Mr Stark had me doing a fair bit of paperwork so I’ve been holed up in my suite for the past few days.” You explain, but Bucky can’t seem to meet your gaze. “I’m Y/n,”

You extend your arm, holding your hand out to Bucky who stares in disbelief.

“Is this some kinda cruel joke?” Bucky questions, slowly looking up at your confused expression. “Y/n, is it really you?” He stares at you, but your confusion only deepens as you lower your arm back to your side.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but Bucky continues to eye you with evident shock. “Have we met before?”

A dry laugh leaves Bucky’s lips as he straightens himself up. “Do you not know me?” His voice is breaking as you shake your head, and Bucky can feel the moment of relief in his heartbreak once again.

“I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken with someone else?” You nervously laugh, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Bucky simply nods and straightens himself up. “I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes. And I do apologise for that, you just remind me of an old friend.” Bucky brushes it off, knowing it’s not possible, it just can’t be.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Bucky,” You tell him with a smile, one that Bucky once knew and loved, but he forces himself to remove that thought, it isn’t her. “the song I, I guess it was from your time?” You ask, moving back over to the piano and opening the bonnet.

“Yeah,” Bucky walks over, leaning against it as you take a seat, resuming the melody as if you had never paused. “I remember it growing up. How come you know it?”

Your fingers glide over the keys effortlessly and your eyes close for a moment. Whilst they’re closed, Bucky takes the chance to look at you properly, noting your distinct features, identical to the girl he once knew.

“I’m not sure,” You admit, lifting your fingers from the keys as you glance up at Bucky. “I, I just do.” Your brows furrow together, and Bucky notes how you look back at the piano.

“Well, it’s a nice song, so thank you for playing it.” Bucky speaks up. “I’ll be around, so I’ll be seeing you.” He mutters before exiting the room and rushes back to the gym, barely hearing you saying goodbye.

Once Bucky is gone, you look back at the piano. There’s no sheet music, but you knew the song, you knew the exact keys to play and the words as you hummed along.

There was something about Bucky, something amicable and undeniably so. You could feel it in the back of your mind, a nagging sensation to remember, remember something, anything. Yet, as always nothing follows through.

You and Bucky had been living in the compound for an entire week, and you had only come across him three times in total. The first at the piano, the second was after an attempted run; Bucky watched as you reentered the compound soaking from head to toe after being caught in a rainstorm. You tried to make a joke, but Bucky merely grumbled and walked off in the opposite direction. And the third well, that was this morning.

The smell of burnt toast woke you up, and you rushed from your suite to the shared floor where the kitchen is located.

“Stupid toaster,” Bucky groans under his breath as he throws the toast into the bin, slamming the lid shut with his metal hand, nearly leaving an indent.

“You alright there?” Your voice is so soft, and Bucky can feel the tension between his shoulders ease.

Lifting his metal arm up, Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just got distracted.” He shrugs as he turns around to look at you in your pyjamas, just a t-shirt and joggers. A lot more casual than the girl he remembers in the forties.

“Happens to the best of us,” You joke, moving past him to grab a mug. “want one?” You hold a second mug up, and Bucky nods.

He remains quiet as you pour him a cup and slide it across the counter to him. “Look alive!” You call out, and he grasps it firmly.

Silence falls between you both as you look over your shoulder to see Bucky holding the mug in his metal fingers, a distant gaze over his eyes. “Real smooth, Y/n.” Bucky eventually speaks up, followed by a short laugh as he raises the mug to his lips.

“I’ve never done that before,” You admit, now leaning against the counter.

Laughter fills the bar as soldiers pass through with open arms and cheers for a new day. “Hey, look alive!” You yell as you slide across a bottle of beer to the brunette soldier.

“Thanks, Y/n.” His bright blue eyes focus on yours as he winks before patting his blond friend on the shoulder and walks closer toward you, yet the closer he gets, the more blurred he becomes. “Y-”

“Y/n?” Bucky calls out, snapping you from your thoughts. “You in there?”

“Sorry,” You look up from your mug, forcing a small smile. “got a bit lost in my head for a moment.” You mutter. “I, I’m going to go get ready.” You sip at your coffee and head out from the kitchen, leaving Bucky perplexed as he hears you running and swearing from in the hallway towards the elevator.

So, your encounters with Bucky haven’t exactly been the best. Yet, there’s something about him that you’re drawn to but scared of. His cool exterior doesn’t intimidate you, you know his history, you know all of the Avengers’ history. However there is a part of you that feels like you know Bucky somehow on a deeper level than what you've read in his files.

Rushing through your suite, you gather the necessary files before heading out to the elevator. You knew you shouldn’t have left it to the last minute to get the meeting scheduled.

As the metal doors open, Bucky steps aside, his blue eyes focused on his feet. “Which floor?” He asks.

“Two, please.” You respond, and silence ensues over you both.

It was becoming harder and harder for Bucky to not see the Y/n he once knew in you, this version of her or a copy. You twitched your nose the same way when you laughed, your hair smells like vanilla and you add small quirks to the same words.

“Y/n, do you ever have the feeling that you’ve met someone, in a previous life?” Bucky asks out of the blue, taking you by surprise.

“I, er,” You stumble over your words as you reach level two. “I’ll get back to you on that one, Bucky.” You tell him before exiting the elevator and carry on rushing to the conference room for your meeting with Pepper.

“Thought as such.” Bucky sighs as the doors close, leaving him alone with his memories of you once more.

“What’re you doing up here? You’ll freeze!” You laugh giddily as you wrap your arms around yourself, seeing Bucky sat with a blanket draped over his shoulders despite the early spring chill.

“I’ve endured worse, doll.” It rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, his treasured nickname for his girl.

Yet, you smile at the nickname, swearing you’ve heard it before. You contemplate a response, but leave it and walk closer, sitting beside Bucky.

“So, what are you doing up here? Am I that bad?” You nudge him playfully and without a second thought, Bucky lifts the blanket up, allowing you to curl into the soft fabric for much-needed warmth.

“You never could be, Y/n, trust me.” Bucky sighs sadly as he looks up to the stars, aware of you studying him closely, your eyes burning into each of his features. “I’m sorry if I’ve acted a little off this past week, I, I’m still adjusting to well, everything.” Bucky tries to ease his growing nerves as you scoot closer, the fragrance of your perfume encroaching into his nostrils like old times.

“You’ve been just fine, Bucky.” You reassure him as a faint smile forms on his lips.

“I’d know if you’re lyin’ to me, doll.” Bucky turns to face you, kneeling down as you cross your arms playfully, refusing to speak up. “Well, I guess you leave me no choice.” He mutters, and before you can react his hands grab your hips and he starts tickling you senselessly.

“Calm down, soldier!” You laugh happily. “Will you stop?!” You breathe out as his hands rise further up from your waist, pausing as he holds your face, smiling smugly to you, knowing you were truly hooked.

“So, I was just fine then, doll?” Bucky raises a brow as you nod, his hands bringing you closer as he breathes out a sigh into your lips. “Well, I guess I’ve got a few things to work on.”

“That you do mister.” You mutter before kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as hollers from across the road sound, and the faint call of your name interrupts you once more.

“Y/n?” Bucky nudges you, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay? You went all quiet on me for a minute.” He half laughs, seeing tears forming in your eyes as you shake your head.

“I, I’m not.” You admit, letting the tears fall. “I, you asked me earlier about feeling as if you’ve met someone in another life,” You trail off, seeing Bucky nod.

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, feeling the remaining strings attached to his heart hoist it up, hoping they won’t fray at this final attempt. “it was dumb, I know.” He brushes it off.

“No, it’s not.” You tell him defiantly. “I, I keep having these memories of sorts, but I can’t make out any faces.” You rub your eyes. “Every day there’s this nagging sensation to remember something, to recognise someone I believe I knew, like there's this guy and I think he's someone I’m meant to know.” You explain, and Bucky can feel the restraints in his heart tightening, the cogs in your brain now turning.

“I know the feeling,” Bucky comments. “when HYDRA had me, they wiped my mind of everything, any memories of my life before and brainwashed me into their weapon. It’s kinda funny really, it was all still in there, and it slowly started to come back.”

“How did you know which memories were real?” Your voice softens as you home in on his blue eyes, watching as they twitch under your gaze. “Like, which weren’t misconstrued.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just, I do.” He murmurs. “So, this guy, what’s he like?” Bucky changes the subject as a smile forms on his lips as you laugh lightly.

“I wish I knew,” A light shiver crosses your body, and Bucky pulls the blanket off of him, wrapping it around you. “he’s just, this amazing guy who, who is funny, and caring. I have these snippets of what I believe was our life together, but it doesn’t make any sense.” You ramble, trying your best to comprehend everything.

“Take your time.” Bucky reassures you.

“These ‘memories’ I’m having, they take place in the past- that much I know. But I know my life, I know the year I was born, I have memories of my childhood and I know my family.” You explain, feeling your eyes welling up with tears as your frustration and confusion increases. “How can I have memories of a life I’ve never lived?”

"Maybe you can." Whistling into the breeze, Bucky shuffles and turns to face you. “Try and focus on one detail, okay? Do you trust me?”

You search his eyes for any uncertainty, and you nod in response.

“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.

Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.

“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.

“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.

“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.

“Thanks, Bucky." Silence falls between you both, stifling the cool air. "I, I better go in before I catch a cold.” You rise to your feet, removing the blanket and hand it back to him. “Can’t have Mr Stark complaining about me coughing senselessly on a conference call.” A light laugh escapes your lips as you wave to Bucky before heading back inside.

As the door closes behind you, Bucky blankly stares out at the sky. “Oh, doll.” Bucky pleads to the stars. “Please remember.”

Now back on your floor, tears freely cascade down your cheeks as you sob into your hand, barely able to reach your door before you fall to the ground. “Come on,” You cry, feeling snippets of memories colliding together of the childhood you knew versus one you don’t recall, two boys by your side at all times.

Forcing yourself to your feet, you shut the door to your suite behind you, hearing laughter echo in your mind.

“Steve! Stop, I need to keep my dress clean!” You plead, looking down at the splashes of mud coating the hem of your dress.

“I warned you, punk.” Bucky sighs, hitting Steve over the back of the head with the newspaper. “You still look beautiful, Y/n.” Bucky winks to you, watching as you roll your eyes in response.

“Thanks, James.” You mutter, ignoring the burning of your cheeks as you reach your front steps. “I’ll see you boys later, seven still good?” You ask, looking between the pair as they nod. “Okay, well, don’t get in too much trouble without me.” You chuckle before turning on your heels and head up the front steps, unlocking your front door as the radio plays faintly.

“James?” You whisper to yourself, rushing over to the nearest mirror. “My name is Y/n Y/l/n. I am twenty-four years old. This is my home. My parents are Y/M/N and Y/D/N.” You recite, staring at yourself in the mirror. “This is who you are.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you step away from your mirror and fall into your bed.

“Ms Y/l/n?” FRIDAY calls out, and you quickly sit upright.

“Yes, FRIDAY?”

“Tony is calling you, would you like to answer?” The AI asks, and you groan into your pillow, it’s not like you couldn’t answer your employer.

“Sure, FRIDAY.” You reply, reaching over for your phone and answer the call from Tony. “Hey Mr Stark, how’s the mission going?” You feign positivity as you force a bright smile. Even if Tony cannot see you, the walls have eyes.

“Hey, Y/n, I told you before, call me Tony. We’re on our way back now, I just wanted to make sure the tin man hasn’t been causing you any trouble.” Tony asks, moving away from other voices in the background.

Your eyes rise to your closed door, picturing Bucky mere minutes ago by your side, trying to help you remember him, James Buchanan Barnes, your James.

“Jam-” You cut yourself off and move the phone away from your ear, allowing a moment to compose yourself for your boss. “Bucky’s been fine, I promise Mr, sorry, Tony.” You chuckle uneasily, but Tony doesn’t question it.

“Well good to hear, listen we’ll be back in an hour, and you can meet the rest of the team in the morning. Get some rest, Y/n.” Tony tells you and hangs up before you can respond, leaving you alone once more with the impending thoughts weighing heavy in your mind.

“This is who you are.” You repeat like a mantra as you lie back down in your bed, wishing tomorrow would never come.

P A R T T W O

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

@biss-stuff @psychicforest @lourightm @mywinterwolf @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @smilexcaptainx @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated--fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs @eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8 @notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan@cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976 @sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

Weighted Blanket

I blame the Bog for enabling me here. This got out of hand. It was just gonna be a cute little drabble I swear yall. But the feels took over? I want a Geralt for myself? Preferably the fanon himbo variety? Idk fam, ya get what ya get today.

Warnings: anxiety/anxiety attack (not panic attack), new established relationship, Jask feels like he has to hide his anxiety from people, Geralt being a soft ass himbo, someone plz find me one? plz?

_______________

Jaskier had spent the night at Geralt’s a few times and he was always incredibly nervous until Geralt opened the door. He adjusted his backpack strap and tapped his foot on the concrete porch and felt a little bit like a child at a playdate. He was a grown ass man. This wasn’t that big of a deal. At least that's what he told himself while he waited for Geralt to scramble out of whatever pretzel yoga pose he was undoubtedly in. Jaskier was all for taking care of himself, he just preferred the ‘extra whip and a pedicure’ style rather than ‘whole foods and regular exercise’ route. He was worried Geralt would try to get him to go to the gym and drink kale but he seemed perfectly content to let Jaskier do what works for him.

When Geralt opened the door he had a goofy grin and his hair in a sweaty floppy bun, “You’re early,” he said it like it was a treat every time, regardless of how early Jaskier really was. Be it fifteen minutes or an hour and a half, he always looked like an excited puppy and it set Jaskier at ease.

But today he didn’t feel the tightness in his chest melt away when Geralt smiled at him. Not when he pulled him into a hug before he could utter his greeting. Not even when Geralt kissed the top of his head and rubbed his arms vigorously to warm him up because, “I know you have a sweatshirt in your backpack.”

Jaskier shrugged and leaned into his chest, “I kinda forgot.”

“You weren’t cold?”

“Well now that you mention it....” Jaskier forced a playful tone and got two handfuls of Geralt’s ass, that wonderful, perky ass. And it did absolutely nothing to him.

Geralt frowned and tilted his head, brushing the damp hair out of jaskier’s eyes, “I was gonna invite you to shower. But you don’t sound excited.”

Jaskier sighed and gave him a weak smile, “I want to be excited.”

Geralt just tilted his head the other direction and tightened his grip on Jaskier’s shoulders and oh wasn’t that nice. That eased the ache a little bit.

“I’m just a little anxious from work,” Jaskier assured him, patting his hands over Geralt’s perky asscheeks, “Go shower. I’ll be good by the time you’re done.”

“Are you sure?” Geralt slouched just a bit to draw Jaskier’s eyes to his, “Come with? I’ll wash your hair?”

Jaskier shook his head with a little smile, “Tempting. But I’ll drink some tea under my blanket then we can enjoy our evening.”

Geralt kissed his forehead and gave him a quick but firm hug before darting down the hallway to rush through his shower. Jaskier measured his breathing as he made tea, now fairly familiar with Geralt’s kitchen, and settled down on the couch to dig through his backpack for his weighted blanket.

Only it wasn’t there. His backpack had felt light when he left but it was just such a hectic day and he’d just wanted to see Geralt so bad.

“Fuck,” he whispered, seeing his hands start to shake as he rezipped his pack, “It’s just a little anxiety Jask. It’s fine. You are fine. It isn’t the end of the world. It will pass. It’s just because that asshole yelled at you, not anything to do with Geralt. You two are fine, good even…”

He sat back on the couch and pulled his knees into his chest, clutching at the mug of too-hot tea to keep his hands from shaking. Every few seconds he remembered he had to breathe, and do so slowly, if he wanted to get through this feeling and he would gasp a little bit with the realization he hadn’t been. He whispered his logical thoughts he’d prepared for this. The spiral would get a little momentum and he’d count his breaths and repeat his prepared sentences and he’d feel it receding but that was as much momentum as he could get.

As soon as he started to calm down, he’d think about Geralt coming out of his shower to see him like this and it would start up again. He’d managed to keep his anxiety under control in front of Geralt so well. Geralt was so calm and steady and gentle that Jaskier hadn’t had to try so hard to begin with. But now his crazy was all out on the table and he wasn’t quite mentally prepared to be thrown out of Geralt’s house.

In the middle of repeating one of his calming thoughts, he heard Geralt pad around the couch and felt more than saw him sit down.

“Jask?” Geralt’s voice didn’t quite sound real, but it was still soft and gentle enough not to spike his anxiety any worse, “You okay?”

He just shook his head and forced himself to exhale slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

Jaskier swallowed hard and whispered with more effort than he’d like to admit, “Just an anxiety attack. I… I forgot my weighted blanket.”

Gods did that feel horrible. Admitting to your hot new boyfriend that you have a security blanket at 30 and it sends you into an anxiety attack when you leave it at home wasn’t really on his to do list, but here he fucking was.

Geralt gripped the tea mug by the rim and took the now lukewarm tea before his shaking hands spilled it all over his knees, “What do you need?”

Jaskier felt tears brimming behind his eyes and squeezed them shut, “Wh- what?”

“What do you need? To help you.”

“Oh,” Jaskier opened his eyes and tears fell down his cheeks, “No one’s ever asked me that before...”

Geralt took a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling and offering his hand to Jask, palm up, “Can we try something that helps my brother?”

Jaskier nodded, he didn’t even care what it was, he was too shocked by the realization that Geralt wasn’t scared off or disgusted with him.

“Your weighted blanket helps, right?”

Jaskier nodded and set a trembling hand in Geralt’s palm, swiping at his face with the other.

“Can I hold you? See if that helps?”

Jaskier nodded again and uncurled from his ball a little bit so Geralt could pull his legs over his lap and wrap his arms around Jaskier’s body. He squeezed a little tighter than his usual hugs but the pressure was just barely registered with the way Jaskier’s body was in overdrive. Regardless, he burrowed into Geralt’s shoulder, partly to hide his tears and partly because it felt safe.

“How’s this? Are you okay?”

Jaskier nodded, “Can you squeeze tighter?”

“How about we lay down?”

“Lay down?” Jaskier’s voice cracked on his words but he barely even noticed.

Geralt rested one large hand over his soft brown hair, “I could be your weighted blanket? It works for Skel sometimes.”

“Yeah- yeah, okay,” Jaskier muttered as he forced his creaking knees to straighten as Geralt laid him back onto the couch. Geralt positioned them so he was laying on his side against the back of the couch and Jaskier was on his back in front of them. He laid his head on Jaskier’s shoulder and half draped his body over him, just testing the waters.

That alone was nice, but the little bit of relief only made Jaskier crave more. He tugged at Geralt’s elbow, not really pulling but guiding him to completely cover him. That was perfect. Jaskier could think a little clearer after a few seconds, then he could feel his limbs again and hummed happily.

“Good?” Geralt’s hopeful smile beaming up at him from where he was resting his chin on Jaskier’s sternum was bright enough to end wars.

“Very.”

Geralt closed his eyes and sighed, that soft little smile still on his face. Jaskier took a deep breath and basked in the way Geralt’s torso pinned him to the cushions. His thighs were pressed over his legs and pleasantly heavy and the way he’d cushioned his chin with his hands meant Geralt’s lovely, squishy, heavy arms were keeping his shoulders down.

After a few minutes Jaskier felt the post-anxiety exhaustion hit that let him know it was really over, but he didn’t want to move. Instead he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s ribs and laced his fingers together over his spine.

“Thank you,” he whispered, eyes closed with a tired smile, “You’re the best weighted blanket I’ve ever used.”

“Anytime,” Geralt’s voice reverberated through Jaskier’s body in the most soothing way, deep and strong but gentle as well, “I mean it. You don’t need to hide this from me. I want to help.”

Jaskier giggled, “Oh don’t tell me that.”

One of Geralt’s hands floated up to trace Jaskier’s jaw and the high points of his cheekbones, “Why not?”

“Well, I might believe you. It's a little overwhelming- believing you. -And my anxiety,” Jaskier clarified, brushing his thumb over Geralt’s back as he spoke.

“That’s okay.”

Jaskier frowned and looked down at his boyfriend. He was staring up at him with ridiculously round eyes and his eyebrows drawn in and together with a not-so-subtle pout to his lips. Regardless of the cute face, his eyes held sincerity. And Jaskier didn’t really know what to do with it.

“I-” Jask took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling as he spoke, “I’m used to hiding it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Geralt tapped Jaskier’s chin to get him to look at him, “Yeah, that’s okay. If it’s hard for you to tell someone, that’s okay. We’ll work with it.”

If he weren’t pinned underneath Geralt at an uncooperative angle, Jaskier would have kissed him, but he settled for resting his palm on his jaw, “You’re too sweet to me.”

“You deserve it,” Geralt hummed, turning his head to kiss his wrist.

For once, Jaskier didn’t fight him on it.

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