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#I'm doing horribly my hand is still shaking
literaryavenger · 17 hours
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Obsessed
Summary: Your crush on Bucky may be getting out of control.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Warnings: Dramatic Reader. Language. Angst. Fluff. My poor attempts at being Funny.
Word Count: 1.4K I'm physically incapable of making anything short.
A/N: I wrote this in like 2 hours and I don't even know what this is, just... Yeah.
Masterlist
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This is terrible.
This is the worst thing that's ever happened to you.
This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone. It's just the most horrible, dreadful, awful thing that could’ve ever happen to yo-
“Would you stop staring at him for fuck's sakes!” Natasha's hissed words make your eyes snap to her and finally away from the metal armed Supersoldier lifting weights. Shirtless.
You don't know when Bucky stopped feeling self-conscious enough to allow him to workout in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, but it has become literal torture for you.
Needless to say, Bucky's current level of undress is making it impossible for you to concentrate on the stretching you're supposed to be doing before your sparring match with Natasha.
But your very thoughtful and not at all exasperated friend makes sure to keep your attention on her during the entirety of our match by thoroughly kicking your ass.
What a lovely best friend you have.
Anyways.
Your entire mood shifts with one not intentionally overheard conversation. Steve enters the gym and goes straight to Bucky, who was putting his weight set down.
“She’s here!” Is all the blonde says to his friend and your heart stops at the way Bucky’s face lights up with a smile, not needing any more information before following Steve out of the gym.
She’s here? Who the fuck is she? Does Bucky have a girlfriend? And most importantly, she’s here? In the Compound?
Natasha can almost see the gears turning in your brain as you make no attempts to move from the mat after she knocked you on your ass for the hundredth time today. You didn’t even seem to notice her hand offering you help to get up, your eyes still looking where Bucky was just a moment ago, staring at nothing in particular while your brain drowns in your overthinking.
Natasha sighs and decides to end the match here, kneeling down in front of you and placing her hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to snap you out of it.
“Don’t overthink this.” She tells you when she’s sure she has your attention. “It’s probably just a friend visiting.” She tries to comfort you, but you both know that’s highly unlikely. 
Bucky has no other friends outside the team. He doesn’t know how to talk to civilians anymore after everything he’s been through, and gave up trying to after the hundredth time he saw fear in a person’s eyes just by recognizing him. So his friend circle now includes the team and the agents of SHIELD that are not intimidated by him. Point is, every friend he has already lives in the Compound.
So who the fuck is here just to see him? 
Natasha can see that this is a lost battle, your eyes barely concentrating on her as you start drowning in your mind again. All she can do when you’re like this is try to distract you and keep you out of your head. So she takes your hand and helps you up, leading the way to the common room to watch one of your beloved romcoms together, because that’s how much she loves you.
Big mistake.
“Y/N! Y/N!” The excited high-pitched voice came just seconds after you set foot in the common room. And that’s about the only warning you got before the excited 5-year-old jumped on you, your reflexes thankfully quick enough to catch her.
“Hi, Maguna!” You say while chuckling as the little girl hugs you. “You seem excited today. Did you get into the sugar cabinet again?”
Morgan giggles at your joke and shakes her hand before taking your face in her little hands and dramatically saying, “No! A princess came to visit uncle Bucky! A real princess.”
You frown, confused at what she’s talking about, before you look around the room and finally notice everyone else in it. Pepper and Tony are on the couch, looking at you lovingly as you interact with their daughter.
You love Morgan, she’s like a little sister. You never miss an opportunity to babysit her and you spend as much time with her as you can. She also loves you, out of all the Avengers you’re her favorite, much to everyone’s dismay. She calls them all ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’, but you’re just Y/N. You’re her big sister, you don’t need a title. Which is why you're the only one other than Tony allowed to call her 'Maguna'.
Then you notice the other people in the room: Steve, Bucky and… Shuri. The fucking Princess of Wakanda, standing in the common room of the Avengers Compound and just smiling at you as you carry Morgan.
You’ve never met Shuri, but you know she played an important part in deprogramming the Winter Soldier out of Bucky, and you’re grateful to her for it. She’s important to Bucky, and you can’t believe you forgot Bucky has Wakandan friends.
You put Morgan down on the ground again and the little girl takes your hand and aggressively steers you towards where Steve, Bucky and Shuri are standing, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of a real life princess.
“Hi, I’m Shuri.” She offers you her hand when you get close enough and you shake it with your free hand while introducing yourself.
There’s a bit of an awkward pause and you’re about to say the first thing that pops into your head when Morgan thankfully saves you by pulling on your hand, making you look at her. She tells you to come close and, chuckling, you kneel beside her so she can whisper conspiratorially in your ear.
“She’s a princess and she’s really pretty, but I still like you better.” She whispers and you can’t help but laugh.
God, you love this little girl.
You smile brightly at her and launch a tickle attack, her adorable giggles filling the room as everyone looks at you two with warm smiles.
Your attention is solely on Morgan, until you unintentionally hear the whispered conversation between Shuri and Bucky.
“So, this is the girl, huh? She’s pretty.” Shuri says and your heart skips a beat. 
You glance at them as discreetly as you can while still tickling Morgan, only to find Bucky looking at someone behind you. You turn around less carefully and see Sharon just entered the room, and she's also looking at Bucky with a smirk. You quickly return your attention to Morgan, but your mind is going a thousand miles a minute.
Of course he’d like someone more like Sharon. She’s pretty, she’s talented, she’s a total badass and she’s not afraid to go after what she wants.
She’s not a mass of anxiety in the shape of a woman that overthinks everything and becomes a flustered mess every time she’s even near Bucky.
It’s time to admit it to yourself: Bucky just doesn’t see you like that and you need to move on. 
Natasha is right, your obsession with Bucky needs to end.
What you don’t see is Bucky almost glaring at Sharon because he knows damn well why she’s smirking. She came in just before Shuri whispered to Bucky, when he was very intent on looking at you with heart eyes as you played with Morgan.
Just before you looked at him, Bucky noticed Sharon and he had to hold in a groan at her because he knows that she’s never gonna let him live this down.
Both Sharon and Steve have tried really hard to convince Bucky that you like him back and he should make a move on you. But Bucky, being as stubborn as they come, never believes them.
He obviously makes you uncomfortable, you’re always stuttering when he’s around and you avoid eye contact whenever possible. He’s just glad that you can stand his presence enough for the two of you to work together when necessary and to hang out with the rest of the team without problems.
So he just enjoys looking at you from a distance. He loves watching you play with Morgan and his thoughts always run wild with images of you playing like that with kids that are yours and his.
But he knows that’s never going to happen. Why would you like a damaged, PTSD ridden soldier that can’t even make it through the night without waking up from a nightmare? No, that’s definitely not your type.
Bucky accepts the truth: He doesn��t deserve you and you don’t see him like that anyways. 
It doesn’t matter that Sam thinks he’s obsessed, that won’t stop him from looking at you whenever he’s lucky enough to get a glimpse of his little ray of sunshine.
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14thgalerie · 7 months
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dreamin' of him
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• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: a little death by the neighbourhood / fuck it i love you by lana del rey
• word count: 5.7k
• genre: fluff
— a part of this is inspired by this scenario i saw on tiktok, can't exactly remember it which vid it was. anyways enjoy this little random scenario that i'm pretty sure is horrible because i didn't bother to proofread it again.
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You shot right up from your sleep, limbs tangled in the sheets that had been strewn about haphazardly. The room is still as dark as it had been when you fell asleep with only the faint light of the full moon serving as your guiding light.
You drop your head onto your hands that sit on your folded knees, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes until you can only see white. Ignoring the pain only so that you can be rid of the images that keep flashing in your mind.
It was excruciating, it played like a broken VHS record on your parents’ television back home. Every millisecond, a frame of you in such a vulnerable embrace with–
No. Y/N, stop it.
You were grappling with your sanity, feeling yourself incredulous at how such an idea came to fruition in your mind. Several nights’ on the end of this senseless, out-of-the-world dream that popped out of nowhere. The both of you hardly spoke with one another, for Merlin’s sake.
Throwing your head back, giving up on forcing the images out of your thoughts. Your head was spinning. Slamming your temple against the solid, wooden headboard behind you until you hear a ring resonating through your ears.
How did you let yourself get into this? What happened that you are being haunted— if that’s what you would even call it — by these dreams?
It’s been days of sleepless nights and you are plain tired. He must have cursed you. There was no other reason for this, right? He could be annoying when he wanted to be.
With your back resting on the headboard, you see that your dorm mates haven’t gotten back yet. Still, you remain seated as you wonder where they are, staring at the open window to your right.
“You’re the only one that can do this to me, Y/N…”
You gasp and sit straight, slapping your forehead with your open palm, trying to chase the image away. Throwing a glance at your watch that sits on the bedside table, you see that it’s only an hour and a half before you are supposed to wake up.
Exhaling loudly, you shove the blankets away from your body, feeling a warmth creep up on you. Maybe a good, cold, and long shower will distract you for good.
Grabbing a change of clothes, you head straight for the bathroom in your dorm. Now’s one of the few times you are glad that the dorms at Hogwarts have their own showers. 
Looking at the small, worn mirror above the sink, you chuckle humorlessly at how disheveled your appearance is. Anyone who sees you right now might think that your dreams are last night’s reality.
Stepping under the painful cold water, your body unconsciously jolts at the shock. 
Thinking about it makes your heart race. It gives you jitters, too. The feeling wasn't much to your liking. It was distracting. Not to mention it made you feel so... vulnerable. A shiver ran up your spine. You paused for a breath to calm your heightened nerves.
This has to end soon. You couldn’t stand another night spent thinking of him, of all people.  
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“I uh- I need to go.” You cough, clearing your throat, hands shaking slightly as you move to stand up. “I still have this essay for Potions.” 
“What- Hey wait, Y/N!” Harry reaches out, nearly missing your arms. 
“Why are you suddenly running off? It’s not due until next week?” Giving you a worried look. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, Harry. I feel extraordinarily perfect, I just- I wanna go back to my room right now.” You sigh, looking up at him. Your body remains tense under his tight grip. “So please let me go.”
Harry tries to not look disappointed, giving a quick glance back at your two other friends who watch you in silence. “Alright then, but if you need anything, you know where to find us.”
Giving him a small nod before pivoting in your heel, you walked straight to the Great Hall's large entryway. You ignored the way your skin burned with the intensity of the searing eyes that had locked onto you since its entry. 
“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” A cool voice asks from behind you. 
You freeze.
“Pardon?” You conjure up a reply, bluntly.
“Ok- what’s got your knickers in a twist?” 
“Nothing!” You reply defensively. Wanting nothing more than to be back within the confines of your dorm room.
“Alright, alright. I got it.” The cool, calm voice waves off an erratic rhythm to your heart. You continue to stare forward along the corridor, paying no mind as he circles around until there is a face attached to the voice. “I was just wondering why you skittered out of the Hall faster than when you were caught by Filch with the Weasley twins.”
Tilting your chin towards your chest, “What do you want, Nott?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I was just curious, that is all.”
You scoff at the mockery clear in his tone. “Seriously, what is it? Because if you’re only here to be an annoying twat, I have better places to be.” 
You purposely bump into his shoulder as you make your way past him. Not in the mood to play along with him right now. Not when that stupid smirk of his is reeling images that you have been tirelessly trying to be rid of. Images that are the cause of your cranky attitude in the mornings.
From the corner of your eyes, you see him cock his head slightly to the right. Another thing you hate. He becomes more incessantly annoying when you are visibly annoyed by him.
“Nott.” You warn.
“What?“ He asks, amusement clear in his tone. “Am I not allowed to walk the same grounds that you do now?”
“Walk elsewhere. I am quite sure that you know of other paths from here to wherever you are to go. With your many endeavors, it’ll be stupid if you didn’t.” You murmur the latter under your breath.
“What was that?” He catches up to you, walking leisurely with his long legs. “Didn’t quite hear that last part properly.”
Before you could reply, a shout from the courtyard called both of your attention. A redhead girl from Ravenclaw was waving in your direction. You turn to look at Theodore who has now turned his sight back to you.
“I think she’s waiting for you.” You swiftly walk towards your house tower, making haste before he follows you again.
Unbeknownst to you, his stare remains fixated on you until your figure disappears around the corner. Only then does he wave back at the girl and make a quick return to the Hall where he left his friends mid-conversation. 
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 It wasn’t the last that you see of Theodore after, nor was it the last morning when you woke up groggy and irritated at the lack of sleep. It seems that since then, the both of you find yourselves orbiting each other much more often than before.
Not that you found it all disappointing. 
There were times that he was a good companion to have around— forget the hooded eyes that left you conscious every time. When he isn’t being an annoying twat, he knew how to hold a conversation with you; your lack of similarities is a good point as you were able to share things that the other didn’t know of.
But in truth, Theodore searched for you. In the boisterous chatters of students in the corridors, between the towering bookshelves of the library, through the window of the dimly lit Potions classroom where he has a clear view of Hagrid’s hut where you and your friends frequent.
He looks for you in all places, unable to help himself from an attempt to have a glimpse of you.
He did give his best efforts to tuck away his inexplainable attraction to you recently, and he wouldn’t dare admit that there is even a chance that he does. His denial was a fortress but cracks appeared within its walls with each time he talks to you.
“She’s at the Hospital Wing.” Blaise hesitatingly brings up. 
He almost jerks up from his comfortable position on the couch where he and Blaise are observers of their other friend’s drunken endeavors. But he manages to grab a hold of himself before the other notices.
“Why bother telling me?” His forced indifference is not as apathetic as he wished it to be. “I don’t care.”
“Oh shut up, Theo. I have never seen you so utterly fond of another girl like you do with her.” Blaise retracts back to what he was gonna say, “Anyways, I hear she will be a volunteer ahead of the Quidditch match this Sunday.”
He doesn’t reply, letting the words of his friend slip from one ear to another. You were interesting. He was unsure how, in the many years you’ve known one another, that you caught his eye now.
“She’s nice, not unlike some of her friends at Gryffindor.” Blaise continues with his taunting, eager to see a reaction from Theo. “Even managed to convince me to be her partner for Herbology.”
Theo makes a noise in a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “From the sound of how you speak of her, it’s like you’re the one that has caught butterflies.”
Blaise simply hums, nodding to himself. “Maybe.”
Not another word slips from him again. The silence of his relinquishment makes Theo’s heart skip a nervous beat. Blaise never gives up that easily.  
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“Hello there.” A voice makes you look up from your book which you have been drowned in since hours ago. To your surprise, it was Blaise. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask. Curious why he had so suddenly appeared beside you while you were studying. You scour your brain, trying to remember if you had a project with him that ultimately passed by you.
“Go to Hogsmeade with me later.” Blaise blurts out while you gather your books that are scattered along the table. 
“Huh?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You give out a confused laugh. Maybe you didn’t understand him, right? “Did I hear you right? Hogsmeade? The two of us?”
“Well, don’t make it sound like it’s such an atrocious thing.” He makes a sound of mock offense; even making the choice to put a hand above his chest. To which you vehemently shake your head.
“Gosh no! It’s just-“ You trail off. “Why all of a sudden?”
“Nothing at all…” He shrugs, but that look on his face tells you entirely different. The mischievous expression that is ever so slightly slipping through. “Just wanted to hang out with a good friend of mine.”
You look at him with a confused frown, unsure of what he’s doing. “Since when were we good friends? Last I checked we only talked every now and then and it was really only just for projects.”
“Just come with me, will you?” 
“No.” You shake your head to further make your point. “Tell me why first and maybe I’ll consider.”
Blaise sighs, giving up. He had expected that you would not be giving in so easily to his request, after all, you weren’t really that close. But he still thought that it was worth the try, he is tired of Theo acting like he’s better than his emotions. He decides to tell you.
Well… somewhat.
“Alright, lady. I want to make a friend of mine jealous.” You hummed, listening intently. Wondering why he chose you to do it. “Also, because you’re the only person that I genuinely enjoy hanging with from other houses.”
“Will you tell me who’s the friend?” You ask.
“No.” He quickly replies, “But Y/N…I’ll treat you with anything you want at the Three Broomsticks or wherever else. Just please.” He draws out the please, adding hints or really a dump load of sweetness to it to charm you.
You think for a second more before finally giving him a nod. “Ok, but you’ll have to come with me to Honeydukes. Payback for doing whatever it is you’re planning.”
“You can have whatever you want. I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady.” Blaise tells you before walking off with a huge grin on his face. 
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“Y/N?”
And when you turned your head, a surprised Blaize looked at you with a smile, apparently he had just been in mid-conversation with a fellow Slytherin as he hung about the entrance.
He whistled as he wasted no time approaching you, waving a curt goodbye to his previous companion. 
“Remind me why you never wear clothes other than your uniform?” He asks, his eyes unabashedly trailing over you. Though not in a predatory way that leaves you uncomfortable.
“Because it’s a hassle having to think of an outfit when I could just put a uniform on and call it a day.”
He hums, nodding as he thought about it.
“Well you look good in your non-school clothes, you should wear them more often.” He suggests, although he quickly amends it. “Not that I’m saying you don’t look great normally, it’s just nice to see how you would personally choose the clothes you wear. It kind of reflects a lot of your personality more.”
The two of you make no rush as you travel to Hogsmeade along with the other students, chuckling at the eager third-years who are freely roaming around. Engaging in small talk all the way. 
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“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” You rolled your eyes at Theo, who has done nothing but glare at Blaise who sits beside you with such harsh blinding venom. “If all you plan to do here is to murder Blaise in a million ways inside your mind, then please do it some other time.”
The man beside you couldn’t help the amused choke that escapes him as he sips his glass of Butterbeer.
Theo finally breaks his lone stare down and shifts his attention to you. “Since when did you two hang about by yourselves?”
“We always have-“ Blaise starts to explain but he is cut off by a kick to his shin that makes his knee jerk up and hit the table. 
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
His eyes remained fixated on you still, a medley of emotions behind them that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. 
“Well, Y/N? I’m waiting for you here.” He impatiently asks. “Are you two on a date?”
“Theo, if you think that we are, then why did you even come here?” You roll your eyes at whatever antics that the both of them are trying. Not realising that you called him by his nickname, usually reserved for his close friends.
“Well-“ He stammered, unable to explain why exactly did he approach you all of a sudden. “Blaise doesn’t have that good of a reputation with girls and I wanted to make sure he’s not trying anything with you.”
Blaise clears his throat in an attempt to remind his friend that he is still sitting at the table, clearly within earshot of whatever slander he’s being put to.
“I can hardly think of a reason why you would if he does, but we were just having a conversation as friends, Theo.” You finally answer. “Is it that much of a surprise that I tolerate one of you?”
“He wants it to be him.” The man beside you mutters under his breath which you ignore, thinking it is only a jab.
Theo once again kicks Blaise under the table, making the latter swear under his breath.
While the two of them bicker like they are some man-child, you spot Hermione and the rest of your friends coming in through a tiny door and sitting at a table by the staircase. You scoot over until you are out of the seat, glad that you chose to sit at the open end of the table, without making a noise.
You make quick haste to transfer to your friends' table without garnering attention from the two Slytherin boys.
“Hide me.” You drop your heavy body on the seat beside Harry, trying your best to hunch over his relatively short upper body. 
The three instead laugh at your obvious demise, Ron not even trying to hide his amusement with such a burst of boisterous laughter. Unlike you, the three had noticed how Theodore Nott had been seen beside you much more often than necessary. At first, it was nothing that they really paid attention to, but when you told them of your otherwise eventful dreams…they began to have other thoughts.
It was clear that both of you were attracted to one another except for yourselves. And it’s been a hilarious sight to be an audience to but they are beginning to tire of your constant zoning off when the other is in your peripheral.
“What even is with you and Blaise coming to Hogsmeade together?” Ron asks. “I thought you liked Nott.”
You exhaled in exasperation, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like him.” Gritting your teeth and clenching your jaw at the blatant teasing. “I am seriously beginning to regret telling you about my dreams.”
You watch as Harry stands to grab drinks for the rest of you guys, trying to explain why you came here. Not forgetting to mention how Theo had suddenly the conversation you’ve been having with Blaise. 
You were shocked to find that the both of you actually shared a lot of the same interests in various aspects; books, music, values, name it all. So despite your previous disinclination to agree with his idea that you would get along well, you thoroughly enjoyed the short time that you spent alone. 
His genuine interest in the many muggle creations that you’ve mentioned has made you all giddy. Telling him of all and everything that he must try, making a mental note to give him some things that you have in your dorm.
On the other end, Blaise shared a few of his interests with you— though it was only very few, given that the wizarding world does not really pay much attention to those kinds of things, especially the purebloods. 
“So just because he bribed you with anything you want from Honeydukes, you agreed? Y/N!” Hermione exclaims, to which you only answer her with wide eyes. 
“What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the bewildered expression on her face. 
“You’ve been to Hogwarts for how many years now and yet you have no idea what going to Hogsmeade with only one person insinuates?”
“Uh- What?”
“That you two are going on a date of course?” She practically scolds you. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at Ron anymore when she becomes like this. It's no joke that it feels like you could be the stupidest person on the planet.
“We’re only friends, for Merlin’s sake! Well, we became friends today.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not my fault that is what might people think.”
Harry and Ron look at each other with more than amused grins on their faces.
“I think I finally know why Nott was practically making the snow melt under his feet earlier,” Ron remarks. To which you give him a confused look, unsure what he meant.
“What?”
“Well, before we came in here, we saw Nott almost stomp his way to here. I swear that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.” Ron exaggeratingly shares, taking a sip out of his pint glass. “I thought he was about to burn this place down to ashes with how he looked so mad.”
That explains why he’s being more moody than usual.
“What’s that got to do with Blaise and I?” You finally ask the question that’s been brewing in you since he mentioned it.
But the only response you get is a look of disbelief from all three of them. Each one just about screaming “Are you being serious?” without saying anything.
“Are you truly that dense Y/N?” Harry asks, his hand reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.
You push him off, glaring at him. “No, but seriously what do you mean?”
“Even Harry and Ron, oblivious as they come, recognise that Nott has some kind of interest in you.” Hermione explains, “I don’t even know if he realised it himself but the two of you are oozing love hearts everywhere you go. It’s torture to see how you both ignore it.”
You're left dumbfounded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the mere suggestion. Your thoughts racing as you consider Hermione's words. Theodore Nott, the mysterious and enigmatic Slytherin, having an interest in you? It was a revelation that sent your mind reeling, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had been completely oblivious to his feelings all along.
No. That’s just… wrong. This had to be another one of their pranks again. Ever since you confided in them of your dreams, they’ve been ceaselessly teasing you with Theo. Yeah, this must be it.
You chose to respond in a haughty tone, in an attempt to mask her flustered feelings. “Gosh, if this is what spurs in your minds when I tell you about my struggles at night, then I’d rather just keep them to myself from now on. Find something else to speculate about.” 
Unbeknownst to you, while you were so flustered trying to deny anything and everything they say of you and Theo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mentally orchestrated a plan. Harry subtly made a signal to the other two to play along as he saw Theo stand up from his heated conversation with Blaise to approach you four.
With sly smiles quickly masked, they leaned in closer to you and feigned curiosity. 
“Alright then,” Ron begins, “But I heard from Hermione that you had another dream last night. Is it as juicy as last time?” 
Harry chimed in, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Yes, please spill the details. We’re all ears.”
Caught off guard by their sudden and out-of-place interest.  “I said that I’m never telling you of anything again. And it's not juicy! Please don't ever use that word ever again.” You never wanted to divulge anything related to your rather steamy dreams again to your friends. 
“This is the last time, we promise! And we promise to not annoy you any more with Nott.” Hermione exclaims though you reach out to slap her on her arm at how loudly she said it. Looking around the bustling crowd to see if anyone heard it, confused when you see Blaise sitting with somebody else now, probably some friends from Slytherin, Theo nowhere in sight.
Little did she know that Theo had indeed overheard their conversation and as he was slowly nearing their table, curiosity piqued as he heard his name. He slowed in his steps, waiting to hear more.
Your face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you think back to last night, a bit different— a whole lot different. The dream had left you truly confused because it was nothing like the otherwise steamy ones you had. It was unsettlingly normal, and it has left you with a sense of unease that left you unable to sleep properly, terrified at what this means.
 You cleared your throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, it was just a, you know, like the ones I told you. Nothing too different. I still hate it."
Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, feigning innocence. "From the look on your face, it seems to be different. Tell us about it, pretty please."
You hesitated but then began to describe the dream in the most vague and unassuming way possible, but you knew no matter what you said, they would use this to tease you endlessly. "Alright, alright. So, in the dream, I was in the Black Lake, and there was a gentle, warm breeze. I was walking with someone, and it was peaceful. It was like…everything is normal. No war, no problems, no animosity, just us walking like any normal person.”
Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, while Hermione continued to prod gently. "And who were you walking with, Y/N?"
Your gaze darted around the table, avoiding eye contact. Not seeing how their eyes slightly shifted behind you. "Well, it was just someone... you know, a dream version of someone I know. Like you don’t know already."
Hermione shook her head, “Yeah but this is different, so it must be somebody else right?”
“Hermione…It’s Theo, who else.” 
"Y/N…" You hear a voice behind you call out in a low tone, with a thread of voice. 
Your eyes widen, filled to the brim with alertness and humiliation. Your mother was right, one day this mouth will get you in trouble— not that it hasn’t been proven countless times before— but now nothing made you want to become more one with the ground than this moment.
You swallow hard and turn around, instantly the mortification in your features becomes tenfold. There it is— the stupid, bloody smirk that is always present on his stupid, pretty face when he has caught you red-handed. 
“Don’t.” You warn.
He leans his entire weight back on the wooden post behind him, staring down at you with a look of satisfaction, unapologetically reveling in your obvious embarrassment.
“Oh, but I must.” He drawls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Your frustration surges as you fold your arms, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity in this awkward moment. You give him a glare before turning back front facing to the table.
“You are truly insufferable, you know that?”
Without even being able to see it, you already know that his grin widens at your reply. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”
Theo pushed himself off the wooden post and sauntered closer to where you were sitting, making your heart stutter. The playful glint in his eyes brings forth an image that you would rather not see right now.
"But what's the fun in letting you off the hook so easily? It’s not every day that I find out somebody has been kept awake all night because of me."
You could only continue to cast a withering look at him as you shook your head. "You just love tormenting me, don't you?"
He sits down on the seat next to you, ignoring the other occupants who have reserved to remain quiet. Truly enjoying the show that you, unfortunately, are the star of. He inches closer to you until you can almost feel your eyelashes flutter at his breath.
“Only because I quite enjoy how flustered you can be.” He admits softly, and in that moment the playful teasing in his voice gives way to something else.
A different kind of tension. 
Not one that you would like to be a part of.
“Well, that would be the last of it.” 
Theo and your friends are left bewildered when you suddenly stand and disappear among the group of rowdy students.
His eyebrows furrow and his gleaming expression turns into one of confusion and a hint of hurt and disappointment. “What just happened?”
When he finally turns to look at your friends, all they do is share uneasy glances with each other. They were unsure of how to respond to Theo’s question when they could hardly comprehend what had only occurred.
Hermione opens her mouth to say something but closes it once more when the words in her mind are a jumble.
“Astronomy Tower.” He hears someone say. His cerulean blue eyes that somehow turned grey shifted to the bespectacled boy sitting a chair away from him. “Go.” 
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“Why did you run off?” You ignore the voice that shatters the silence. The bristles of the wind brush against your clothes. Your head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeates into the air. 
He calls you by your name with a gentleness that sends tingles down your spine. But yet again, you ignore him. Choosing to stare intently at the rust that forms by the railing in front of you, the complex chemical reaction is seemingly more interesting to you now. 
“Y/N please…I don't know what’s going on your mind right now but we need to talk.” He moves to stand next to you, placing his arms on the barrier. “I will say it, no matter if you want to listen or not. We clearly have feelings for each other.”
You want to say that you are surprised that he is being so straightforward right now, but it’s evident that someone had to stop whatever dance the both of you had been playing at for the past month already. 
 “And that’s confirmed by what I heard earlier.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “Gods, I hate you so much.”
“Your dreams say otherwise.” He continues with his teasing.
“Stop it. As if you’re any better with how you acted with Blaise earlier.” You hit him back. “Blaise is an annoying ass who meddles in my business way more often than necessary. But I guess he did one thing right.”
“What?” You ask, turning your body to lean on the railing, facing him.
“He kept bothering me about you, and I guess he got tired and decided to make a move leading us to this moment.” 
“He can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be." You agree. Silence befalling after.
“Gods, I don’t know what happened but it’s you.” He breathes heavily.  
A laugh escapes your chest, “If somebody came to us two months ago and told us that we’d be acting like this, I would think they’re mental.”
Theo grins at you, making you giggle to see the little fang on the corner of his mouth. He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, making a move to press his forehead to yours as he nears.
The vivid, flashing images of Theo from your dreams doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. The skin under his touch tingled and it made you itch to reach out with your fingertips, feeling as if you would crumble beneath his hands.
You pull away to stare up at him. The cold that typically veils over his eyes are gone as they reciprocate your stare with an even warmer touch. Every nerve ends in you lighting up with a golden electricity.
Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, and then shut it, apparently struggling to remember how to talk.
So, he decided that actions seem to be your thing anyways, as the two of you are quite horrible at talking.
Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Theo leans forward and presses his lips against yours so gently. All you can think about is him even as you respond to his kiss, melting against the touch. 
He pressed himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing the gods to let you be one. Hell, he wanted to climb into your ribcage and possibly live out the rest of his days inside your heart.
You gasp as his hands creep under your shirt and trail along your lower back, though he doesn’t wander. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring eagerly.
You tilt forward, answering his devotion with an equal eagerness. In your distraction, your hands slide from their hold on his shirt and travel until your fingertips meet behind his nape.
This goes for a while before a sudden splash from the waters below you makes you jump apart, though still very much physically attached. His arms were still tightly wound around your waist.
“I think that’s a sign we should stop for now.”
“Yeah, definitely.”
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. Although you would like to have another one of your dreams to come true, you want to take it slow. The idea that he thought of you as you did to him has still not truly sunk into your mind.
Even now as he leans his face slightly towards yours again and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.
“Gods, I just realised something.” You laugh all of a sudden, making him stand up straight to look at you curiously. “What is it?”
“I just made Ron win a bet for the first time since we all became friends.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he was the first person to tease me about these stupid dreams–”
“Excuse me, I rather think it’s not.” He interrupts playfully raising an eyebrow. “Shush.”
“Anyways,” You continue, “Harry and Hermione initially thought it was nothing and that it probably would stop after a while— obviously not. So Ron set a bet that I’ll end up having feelings for you or we’ll end up together.”
He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m still surprised they didn’t hate the idea. With us being in literal houses that hate each other.”  
“They’re only annoyed at some of you, honestly. The ones that perpetuate the ‘Slytherin’ motto too much.” 
"Plus," he continued, the joking tone in his voice fading a bit, "even if they did have complaints, I would have ignored every single one and still pursued you."
“As if! You stormed to Hogsmeade just to interrupt our ‘date’ and you wouldn’t even admit it. If it weren’t for what our friends did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Let me pretend, for goodness’ sake woman!”
His playful exasperation brought a genuine smile to your face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade as you got lost in the playful banter you're used to with him.
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fanfiction4sooya · 8 months
Text
Sly fox, dumb bunny
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To that one anon that requested this a few days ago, hope you like it sweetie! 💖💖💖
Tw: breeding, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, unprotected sex, nipple play, G!P bada lee;
You and Bada became roommates when both went to SWF2, for your misery.
She was pretty, yes, but you personally found her insufferable on so many levels it was insane. She loved to bully, tease, and overall irritate you whenever she got the chance, always making some move on you and you hated it due to her fuckboy attitude and extreme laid back personality. You tried to switch rooms with any other girl but the answer was always the same: 'Bada doesn't allow any of us to switch with you, we have to obey her'.
"That annoying asshole" You angrily muttered, leaving the practice room when she arrived, slyly smirking at you.
"Where are you going?" She sprinted, catching up with you in a second given her big legs.
"Some place you are not" You drank your coffee, irritated at her presence as you pressed the elevetor button, you just wanted to get away from her.
She looked specially good in a sleeveless basketball jersey and baggy jeans, cap covering her eyes and sneakers. 'Fuckboy' You thought to yourself., entering the elevator.
"You know you can't runaway from me, I'm everywhere" She held the elevator's door, biting her lower lip. "Specially on your mind, little bunny" She raised her eyebrows and you fake vomited.
"Are you desperate because you can't pull any girls with those horrible pick up lines?" She shrugged, smiling. "I'll give you a tip" You said, getting closer to her as her amused eyes followed your moves. You looked up at her, touching the hand that held the door, taking it from there. "keep quiet, you are pretty when you aren't talking shit" You smiled as the doors closed on her dumbfounded face.
It was always like that, always teasing you in front of everyone, her eyes following you everywhere as you danced or actually did anything. She was undeniably hot, yes, but she pissed you off 24/7.
You were leaving the shower as she was leaning onto the kitchen table drinking water, using only a bra and grey sweatpants. You stopped on your tracks, she haven't noticed you only on your towel as her abs smoothly moved as she drank the liquid, your eyes roamed around to the front of her sweatpants, a very large bulge caught your attention.
"Found something you want?" her voice took you from your trance, making you slightly jump.
"jesus" You raised your hand to you chest, gulping.
"Oh, you found jesus?" She smiled, stepping closer to where you were.
"I..." You looked around. "I found out you've been drinking water straight from the house bottle" You tried to come up with an excuse. "And I don't know were you've been putting your lips so... you better stop that" You tried to sound demanding, but her abs and that huge thing kept distracting you.
"Oh, were you thinking about where my lips were?" She hid both hands on her pockets and you got beet red. "you are so obsessed with me" She teased and laughed. "Its okay, I'm obsessed over you too, bunny" She smiled, stepping a little bit further. "It's like you've hexed me, you know?" You rolled your eyes.
"If I knew how to hex people, why would I do it to you out of everyone I know?" She bit her lip, her relaxed posture maddening you. "You are unbelievably delusional, oh my god" You scoffed. "I'm going to get dressed and leave you here, please seek some help" You passed her, heat pooling between your legs as you walked away.
"Oh my god" You locked yourself in your bedroom, trying to catch your breath as your mind kept spinning around to that huge thing between her legs. "I need a girlfriend" You said to yourself, gulping.
Some days had passed and still couldn't shake that horny feeling off. To your surprise one of your sunbaes asked you out and you gladly accepted, thinking it would be great to distract you and of course, maybe you even get a girlfriend out of this.
"Going out?" Bada said, appearing right behind you as you put on your earrings to match with your flowy white dress.
"Not that is any of your business, but I have a date tonight" You stared at her through the mirror. Her nostrils slightly flared as she got a bit more serious than normal.
"Do I know the person?" She crossed her arms.
"Of course you do" You turned to her. "It's Noze" She scoffed.
"That less hot, less talented version of me?" She said and you rolled your eyes.
"You are so full of yourself, Bada" She locked her jaw, a heavy sigh leaving her lips and your turned back to the mirror. She got closer to your back, her voice low and serious.
"I'm older than you" Her breath fanned over your neck as she spoke. "You should address me with more respect" That dangerous tone made your cunt pulse inside your panties, but she didn't need to know that, of course.
"As if I had any respect for you" Your voice sounded small and unsure, but of course she didn't pay any attention to your tone. That was the last straw for her, as she shoved you face first on the mirror, not hard enough to hurt but enough to startle you.
Her body pressed against yours felt hot and heavy, her cock pressed against your butt as she trapped you there.
"You like talking back don't you, little bunny?" She growled on your ear and you whimpered.
"let go of me" Again, unsure.
"You know what? I should let you go to that fucking date" She grinded against you and you lightly did it back, your self control completely leaving your body. "But before that I should fuck your brains out, leave you dripping with my cum, breed you full" You whimpered, closing your eyes.
"Shut up" You breathed out thickly swallowing.
"You would love that, I know" She pressed harder and you shivered, backing against her hard cock. It felt even bigger now as you literally felt it grow. "Tell me you'd like that" She kissed your neck, both hands on the mirror as you were trapped there.
You felt yourself go insane, your wetness seeping through your panties as she pulled down one of the straps of your dress, kissing your shoulder. You moaned as one of your hands tried to palm her cock over her pants and she rolled her eyes when you managed to do it.
"Oh so now the little bunny wants to play?" She teased you, roaming her hands on your breasts over the dress, pulling it down to reveal your tits. She moaned staring at the mirror and you shut your eyes.
Turning you around she roughly kissed you, her hard on poking your clothed tummy. Her tongue swirled around yours and you moaned against her, your arms hugging her neck as she swiftly lift you up, your legs around her waist. She kept kissing you, pressing your back against the wall.
She was everything you've ever dreamed of: tall, strong, had a huge dick and kissed amazingly; oh you hated her.
"Fuck me" You said against her lips, whimpering. And of course she teased you about it.
"No please?" She said, laying with you on the carpet between your legs. You didn't question her on why her choice was the floor and not the bed, but you were definitely in no position to question anything. "I don't know if you can take me bunny" She cockily said and you rolled you eyes.
In a burst of strength you flipped her over, her back now touching the floor with you on top, straddling her waist and slowly grinding over her cock.
"Who do you think you are?" You scoffed, already pulling it out of her pants and boxers and as expected, it was huge. Heavy and hung, her balls full and with little to no hair. 'Even her cock is pretty, fuck' You thought to yourself.
"I told you" She smiled up at you, sitting down to lick on of your nipples, hugging your waist. You moaned, licking your lips as you pushed her down again, spitting on her big cock to lubricate it.
It was huge, yes, but mama didn't raise no bitch.
Pushing your panties to the side you immediately grazed the tip of her cock on your wet slit and she hissed, her eyes dark with lust. Laying back with her hands behind her head she smirked at you struggling to fully take her, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you slowly sunk on her whole length. She moaned when your stretched cunt fully did it, touching her hips with yours. You supported your weight on her chest, lightly scratching her over the shirt.
"Fuck bunny" She breathed out, you didn't wait and started to ride her, her cock reaching places you had neer felt before.
It started out slow and steady as you whimpered, already shaking. She grabbed your ass lifting you up to fully slam you back on her cock, amazed by how well you took her.
You bounced on her cock, your tits jumping up and down as you stared at her beautiful face, locking eyes with her. Fucking hell, that woman knew how to keep eye contact like no one else. You smirked at her awe expression, clenching hard when she started thrusting up alongside with pulling you down, even harder.
"fuck bunny, you are creaming on my dick" She furrowed her eyebrows, her addams apple beautifully exposed as she threw her head back and you leaned forward to kiss it, then her neck. She pulled your face with one hand to lick your lips and her other hand held your hips to slam into you hard.
"I'm gonna cum-oh my fucking god" You moaned on her lips, throwing your head back as she took one of your nipples to her mouth to suck it.
"I'm gonna cum in your pretty hole too" Her voice sounded more steady, but by the way her dick throbbed inside you, you felt how desperate she was as well. "I'm gonna breed you so well bunny, fuck" She kissed your neck, her hips faltering as her hot seed painted your insides. So much you fell forward, knees on the carpet and your hips up, completely pulsing on her dick.
She didn't took it out just yet, shallowing fucking your spent hole and you softly moaned, pushing yourself up so your faces would align as you looked into her dark eyes.
"You won't tire me out in a long time bunny, don't even think about leaving for now" she fucked you a bit harder, kissing your lips as you moaned.
"Too much..." Your voice came out hoarse.
"Shh, it's okay" She said, using your hole to cum one more time, throbbing hard inside you.
She pulled out, her cock wet and red, her cum oozing out of you made you whimper as it fell on her abs. She hissed, staring at your glossy eyes, smirking.
"still thinking about going on that date?" She sat down with you on her lap, kissing your neck.
"You are so annoying" You rolled your eyes when she sucked a hickey on your skin. "Don't leave marks on me" you weakly said, scratching her arms.
"I have to let her know I was here, bunny" She smiled against your skin.
"Why do you keep calling me bunny?" You lightly slapped her arm and she laughed, hugging your waist.
"You remind me of that Zootopia bunny, that bossy and easily irritated one" You allowed yourself to laugh too.
"well if I'm the bunny, you are that fox" She shrugged, pointing at her then at you.
"Sly fox, dumb bunny" You playfully rolled your eyes.
"You are insufferable" She bit your lower lip, laying your back on the carpet again.
"Oh, that I am" She laid on her stomach, kissing your thigh. "and I know you prefer me with my mouth shut so let me get my mouth busy, little bunny"
Next thing you knew she was shoving her tongue inside you, licking her own cum mixed with yours.
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natlovesls2 · 3 months
Text
You're Lying, Right?
Lando x Fem!Reader x Charles
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: swearing, drinking and mentions of alcohol (might be inaccurate, I don’t drink), format might be weird (this wasn't saving the way I wanted it to),
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1k
*ੈ✩‧₊˚Summary: Lando and Charles teach you to kiss after you confess that you've never been kissed
.ೃ࿐Request: Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???
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‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙
The three of you had been drinking for whatever reason, and to be completely honest, you couldn’t exactly remember why the bottles of alcohol had been brought out in the first place. However, you knew the drink in your hand was stronger than the stuff you usually drank, but after the horrible few days you had, it was needed. Its surprisingly sweet smell inviting you to take big gulps. The burn as it passed down your throat numbing the thoughts of your busy life and failed dates. You subconsciously continued to fill your glass with the earthy-fruity liquid, one glass after another– silently watching Charles and Lando interact with one another.
"You're awfully quiet," Lando said from beside you, reaching for your drink to fill it with something new, hesitating when he noticed your slight frown. 
"She had a date yesterday; I can only assume it went horribly," Charles added, moving from his spot to lean against the armrest of the sofa. 
Lando hummed at the newfound information, disapprovingly shaking his head, deciding you had had enough to drink– knowing another glass would not help alleviate whatever pain you felt. “Don't tell me you're attempting to drown your sorrows with liquor. What even happened on this date of yours?"
"The date itself wasn't the worst; it was actually the best I've had in a while– but when the date ended, he expected a kiss. And I know I have to have my first kiss at some point, but I didn't want to disappoint him."
They stared at you for a long time, letting silence settle in the room– you were suddenly aware of the increased warmth. Regret and embarrassment immediately fill your body, urging you to want to vomit up everything you had been drinking. Of course, you had to have the loosest fucking lips known to man when drunk. Actually, you couldn't fully blame the alcohol; the amount you had consumed only slightly gave you a buzzing feeling– enough to feel tipsy. 
“You’re lying, right? I mean, you have to be joking, no?” Lando's small laughter stopped as he noticed your humorless demeanor and sick-looking face– awkwardly clearing his throat, body shifting at Charles's glaring gaze. 
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone experiences life differently; it just so happens to be that you haven't had your first kiss," Charles nodded in your direction, still glaring at Lando– urging him to add to what he said, hoping to ease your embarrassment. 
"Yeah, absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, some people find that sweet."
"Obviously, my date didn't find it sweet... I'm surprised he didn't laugh in my face. Honestly, it fucking pathetic," you let out a dry laugh, picking at the strings of your ripped jeans. You sighed, looking up in time to notice Lando nudging Charles and nodding in your direction. He mouths something to Lando, which you can't quite make out; you'd never been good at reading lips or people. Lando opened and closed his lips a few times as if having a struggle with himself– unsure if he should say something or let Charles take control of the situation. 
"We could always teach you how to kiss," he finally says, watching your face for any sort of reaction, noticing the way your eyes widen at the nonchalantness of his words. "–only if you want to, of course," he quickly adds, sensing your hesitation and overall embarrassment over the situation. 
You feel the world around you slow down, the noise slowly dissipating– replaced by a low ringing sound you can't quite place. You barely notice yourself nodding, nervously running your hands down the front of your jeans, attempting to get rid of the clammy feeling– which only increased at the soft touch of Lando's hand on your cheek. "It's weird if you keep your eyes open," he whispered, holding back a laugh, not wanting to make you any more embarrassed than you already were. You closed your eyes and swallowed the little saliva you had– an attempt to calm yourself, finding your mouth extremely dry. Your heart quicked at this; what if the kiss was too dry? The desire to vomit returned and your throat tightened itself as a final attempt to hold everything down.
 Lando's hand gently caressed your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, pulling you in closer– his warm breath falling against your skin. His lips hovered over your own for a while before they finally connected in an awkwardly stiff kiss. "It wasn't bad," he reassured you, smiling when he noticed the way your eyes nervously bounced around the room– avoiding his own. "Just relax a bit, don't be too stiff." 
He leaned forward again, soft lips moving against your own; in complete contrast to the first kiss, this one was looser– relaxed and something you could see yourself enjoying despite the foreign feeling. His hand moved up to tangle itself in your hair, his tongue lightly running against your bottom lip. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol that finally reached your senses helping you relax, but whatever it was that possessed you to open your lips was definitely on your side. The sweetness of your past drinks mixed with the bitterness of whatever he had been drinking. "See, I told you you just needed to loosen up." 
"I don't know... I feel like you're only being nice about it."
"I'll tell you the truth; let's see what Lando has taught you– or if he taught you well," Charles says, his voice reminding you that he had been there watching the whole interaction, sitting beside you on the other side of the sofa. 
His warm hand pulls you towards him, connecting his lips against yours in a confident kiss. While Lando's kiss had felt firm and loose– slightly messy, this was a lot more calculated. He pulled you closer, hands moving to gently grip the hair at the nape of your neck. "You can definitely impress your next date."
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙
676 notes · View notes
writeroutoftime · 28 days
Text
precious secret
pairing: eris vanserra x fem!reader
summary: eris has kept you - his mate - a secret for years, not wanting any harm to come to you. but when his hands are tied, he must turn to an unlikely ally to offer you protection
warnings: minor mentions of violence against reader (split lip, not graphic description), beron - enough said
words: 1.5k
a/n: alright, I am in love with eris - at least the fanon version of him lol. and I'm such a sucker for stories where he tries to protect his mate from his father, so I humbly offer this as my submission. please enjoy and it'd be great if you let me know what you think! have a great day everyone!
oOoOo
A sense of fear palpated through Eris' heart with every purposeful stride his took down the halls of Forest House. His palms were sweaty, and his skin felt flushed, a stark contrast to the cool and collected exterior he normally presented.
The moment his trusted guard had let him know of your situation, his mind could think only of the worst possible scenarios. The worst images his mind could mangle before his eyes flooded his senses, and he knew the only remedy would be to see, hear, and touch you.
Upon reaching your room, he slammed open the door and immediately rushed to your side. His hands automatically reached to cup your cheeks, eyes frantically scanning for blood, bruises, anything that could cause you pain. It didn't take long for his eyes to zero in on the blood that ran along your lips.
Hands shaking, Eris reached out to gently wipe the blood away with his thumb. Your instinctive flinch caused a pain to wash over his body. He never wanted to be the cause of your pain. You sent a wave of reassurance down the golden bond, but it did little to assure him.
"It's worse than it looks." you tried, grasping his wrist, holding his palm against your cheek.
Eris growled, eyes hardening as though his mind had not registered your words. "What happened?
There was a moment of hesitation from your side, but with a soft sigh you let your mate in the morning's events. "Word got out to Beron that there had been sightings of us together. He let me off with a warning for lesser fae such as myself to stay away from the likes of you."
"This can't go on." he spoke, scoffing at his father's words.
Now it was your turn to panic. "W-what do you mean?" 
"It's not safe for you to stay here any longer." he clarified, gaze softening ever so slightly.
"I'm not leaving you." you demanded, holding your ground.
"Love, we thought we were being careful and look what happened. What am I to do if this becomes a regular occurrence. It will ease my mind to know you are safe and out of harm's way." 
"Away from you." you argued, nuzzling your head into his neck as you tried to stop the tears that burned against your eyes. 
"Just for a little while." he promised. "Just until I know it's safe to bring you back." softly pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 
"I don't know where I shall go." you admitted. 
It pained you to think of leaving the Autumn Court - your home. Yes, Beron was a horrible, cruel ruler, but there was still so much good to be found outside of his clutches. The breathtaking scenery, your family, and, of course, all the beautiful moments you and your mate created together. If you left would you ever see any of it again?
"I'll take care of it." Eris said, drifting off into silence as he savored the last night he had to hold you for the time being.
oOoOo
Eris strolled through the halls of River House, trademark smirk upon his features as he came into view of his reluctant allies. Rhysand and Feyre draped themselves across two chairs at their grand table, looking warily at the heir to the Autumn Court. 
"High Lord, High Lady, a pleasure as always." Eris greeted, bowing slightly to the rulers of the Night Court. Though, it didn't escape his notice the close eye that the rest of the Inner Circle kept on him.
"Eris," Rhysand acknowledged, trying to be diplomatic. "to what do we owe this unexpected visit?" 
There was a long pause in which Eris took a deep breath and pushed aside the snarky comments, the masked facade, and allowed the Night Court to see him in his true form. "I am here to ask you to provide sanctuary for a member of the Autumn Court." he spoke, choosing his words carefully. 
Feyre cocked her head to the side, as if trying to decipher a hidden cipher in Eris' words. "And why do you presume we have any obligation to help someone associated with you?"
Eris' palms burned with a heat that threatened to burst free and wreak havoc. A reaction that had become more common after solidifying the mating bond with you all those years ago. But he tamped down said flames, knowing anger wouldn't get him anywhere. So, the red-headed swallowed his pride and tried another approach.
"I know I have no room to ask such a request, but please." Eris pled, bending to bow before the Night Court on one knee. "If not for my sake, then do it for the sake of - of my mate. For the innocent female who has had the misfortune of falling in love with me." he confessed, revealing his most precious card.
All eyes of the Inner Circle widened in surprise, and Feyre couldn't contain her gasp at Eris' words. None of them had ever had any inkling there was someone tied to Eris in that way, but from the shake in his voice, to the bowing of his head, they knew he spoke only the truth. 
"I still need time to take control of Autumn from my father, and it is no longer safe for her there." he continued. "But once I am High Lord, she will be able to return to me. Until then, this is the safest place I know of for her. Name your price, and I swear it will be done." 
Rhys and Feyre shared a look, silently conversing. Even the powerful High Lord was taken aback by the confession and felt a small pang in his own heart. His mind shifted to Feyre and the lengths he had gone to protect and everything he would continue to do if necessary -what he would do, what he would promise, what he would give up. All just to know she was safe, regardless of his own well-being. He saw those same feelings reflected in Eris' eyes. No longer was he an arrogant heir before them, but a male in love and desperate. 
"That is a bold offer to make." Rhys spoke, his voice commanding always one with a flair for dramatics. He saw the way Eris flinched in worry, so he quickly put the male out of his misery. "But we accept."
The relief Eris felt washed over him instantaneously, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank you." he whispered, so overcome with emotion, he didn't know how else to emote his gratitude. "I am at your disposal to the best of my ability when you call in your favor" he spoke, standing up. 
The thought of Rhysand now having a favor to dangle over his head sent a small chill down his spine. But he would offer a thousand favors to the male if it would guarantee your safety. It should have scared him, but Eris knew that wasn't anything in this world (or the next) he wouldn't do to keep you protected. 
"No favor necessary." Feyre spoke gently, after sparing a quick glance in Rhys' direction. "We know the sanctity of the mating bond, and we will do our best to keep your mate safe." she vowed, seeing a new light to the male before her.
With another round of thanks, Eris bowed his head a final time before winnowing away and back to spend one last night with you.
oOoOo
The next day, under the cover of night, Eris stood with you in his arms, at the entrance to Velaris. Tears pulled in both of your eyes as your foreheads rest against each other's. Feelings of both love and despair were shot down the bond, leaving you feeling breathless.
"Please, we can figure this out." you tried one last time, not caring if the tears on your cheeks belonged to you and Eris. We don't have to separate."
"Trust me," Eris whispered, knowing that Rhys and Feyre stood only a few feet away. "I would wish for nothing more than to be selfish and keep you by your side. But this is the only way I can ensure your safe."
"What about you?"
Eris pulled back slightly to take in your form, sighing softly at your stubbornness. He gently cupped your cheek, pressing soft kisses to your skin. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and we'll be back together before you know it, alright?" he asked, content with your reluctant nod.
One last time, Eris leaned in and captured your lips with his. You gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling your mate as close to your chest as was possible. The kiss was soft, but desperate and full of languish. Though you both wished the moment could last forever, you eventually pulled away, whispering words of love to each other.
"Until we see each other again, love." Eris vowed, watching your figure retreat into the safety of Velaris until you he could see you no more.
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
Text
Firsts III
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: You lose your first tooth
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The day you lose your first tooth, is the day that Momma kicks you in the face with a ball.
It's still morning. You'd spent the first half of your day at school doing Maths and German before Morsa came to pick you up. She takes you home to have lunch because she and Momma have afternoon training today.
She's actually cooking for lunch today. When you spend the whole day at school, she gives you a packed lunch with all of your favourite snack foods and some things to swap with the kids at your school. At the weekends, you don't really eat a lot until dinner so having a cooked lunch is special.
You can see here through the kitchen window as Momma chips the ball over your head.
You huff. "Momma! Stop it! I can't get it if you do that!"
"You can't save every shot, princesse," Momma reminds you like she always does when she does something like this.
You roll your eyes. "I'm only little, Momma," You say," We're only practicing." You roll the ball back to her.
Momma smiles. "Sorry, princesse. I'll make sure you can get this one."
Usually, you would be able to get it. Pernille knows the moment her foot strikes it that she's hit it too hard, hit it hard like she's at practice and is actually shooting against a professional keeper.
It's fast too and smacks you in the face before you can raise your hands to catch it. The force of it tips you back and you land on the ground with a thud.
Immediately, you burst into tears.
Pernille tries to scoop you up but you squirm away from her even as she tries to dab the blood from your mouth.
You spit
A glob of blood appears in your hand along with a tooth.
You look at it in shock. You look at Momma.
"Morsa!" You yell, running inside.
Morsa's standing over the stove, stirring a pot of boiling water and pasta. "Hmm? What is it? Have you two broken the goalposts again?"
Your goal at home wasn't a proper goal. It was made of plastic tube things that had to be slotted together. Sometimes, when you dived for the ball, you hit the posts and they got loose.
You shake your head.
"Look!"
Morsa turns to look at you before her eyebrows shoot up in shock.
There's dirt on your face and your lips are red with a little bit of blood.
"What happened to you?!"
"Momma kicked the ball at me," You whine, stamping your feet," My tooth's gone!" You hold up the glob of blood to show your tooth but Morsa seems too preoccupied with looking at your gums.
One of your canines is missing and there's a bit more blood than there should be if the tooth had just fallen out naturally.
"That looks like it hurt," Morsa says.
You nod miserably.
"Let's get something cold on that."
When it's time to leave for training you're still a little tearful and you're mourning the loss of your tooth as you stick your tongue into the sensitive bit of gum it left.
Pernille feels horrible and you absolutely refuse to let her even touch you. You stick close to Magda, who shows you and your little mouth gap off to the rest of the Bayern girls.
"You don't look happy," Georgia says as she sits next to Pernille and laces up her boots," Aren't parents meant to be super happy after their kid's teeth fall out or something?"
"It didn't fall out by itself," Pernille admits," I kicked a football at her face."
"Seriously?"
"Yep."
"And it knocked it straight out?"
"She bled a lot," Pernille said," And it's a little achy. She's sad."
"Well, once the tooth fairy comes, she'll be happy again."
"What's the tooth fair?"
Georgia jumps when you suddenly appear in front of them. She can see the gap in your teeth as you talk and, as Pernille said, you do seem a little sad.
You're standing in front of them but give no indication that you even know Pernille's there.
"Well..." Georgia says," It's a little fairy that collects teeth?"
"But why?"
"Er...Because she likes them?"
Your brow furrows and you cover your mouth with your hand. "Is she going to take all of my teeth?"
"No, princesse," Pernille says. Your eyes flick to her for a moment before settling on the floor," You put the tooth you lost under your pillow and she'll take it while you're sleeping."
"She'll leave money too!" Georgia says helpfully and that makes you lift your gaze, to check with Pernille that what Georgia's saying is true.
She nods. She doesn't exactly want to agree with this but at this point, anything to get you to forget that she's the reason that you've lost your tooth in the first place.
"And I put my tooth under my pillow and she comes to get it?"
"Yes."
"And she gives me money?"
"Yes."
You think for a moment, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you reach out for Pernille's hand. You yawn.
"I'm tired, Momma," You say," Can we go home now?"
Momma laughs. "Nice try, Princesse but we've still got a few more hours of training left."
You whine and groan the entire training session and it's a struggle to stop you from putting yourself to bed as soon as you get home.
You still end up going to bed earlier than usual but Pernille waits hours until she knows you're actually asleep to slip in.
"Don't give her too much," Magda says as she sits up in bed and reads through her book.
"I won't," Pernille lies.
You look adorably sweet and soft when she slips into your bedroom. Your mouth is slightly open and your face is squished against girl-moose as you cradle girl-swan close to your chest.
Pernille swaps your tooth with some money.
"All done?" Magda asks.
Pernille nods.
Magda was in for a rude awakening when you came running in the next day at dawn.
"Momma! Morsa! The tooth fairy left me ten euros!"
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diggykit-kat · 2 months
Text
𝑫𝒐𝒈𝑫𝒂𝒚 x Reader Pt.3
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Although it was out of character for him to do such a thing, you wrote it off...he's still a good person...right? There was nothing wrong with it, you just forgot about it. You needed it in order to survive, right?
It was late and you've been doing well. DogDay made sure to feed you a large amount of the strange meat. Its taste grew on you, despite it coming from a possibly dead fucking body.
You lay in the den, your back up against DogDay's leg. He plays with your hair and makes sure to keep you safe from the entities outside of this ‘safe zone’
"Little Angel...I have a question. Do you have family that's looking for you right now?" he asks while brushing his hand through your hair. It felt nice. He continued to stroke your hair, letting you rest in his grip.
You looked up at him and said “No, I just came out of thin air, and pop I’m here! Matter of fact I am not even excited” You snickered
DogDay gave you a quick smirk. "Smart-aleck, hm? You know well that's a lie. You never talk about your past. Your past that involves family...friends...I don't know, it's like you just want to pretend it never happened."
“Oh, I don’t want to hear you talk after the whole ass MEAT incident. I don't hear you going around and saying, ‘Well I just gave a human another human!”
Your words stung DogDay. The dog growled "Don't you even dare say that. I'm only doing this for your safety. Do you know what would've happened if I let you starve out there? You'd have died like the rest. You would've been torn to literal SHREDS by the Mini Smiling Critters...you'd have died horribly. I'm trying to keep YOU alive, doll, and that's the truth."
…you open your mouth to say something before dropping it and shrug “damn- well I can’t say anything to that. Fuck.”
DogDay nodded and kept petting your hair. “I know what i do looks horrible, but I'm the only one that wants to keep you safe. Everyone else just wants you dead. I’m doing all of this because I care. I’ve never really cared or liked anything else in my life, but with you…it's different. I…I care about you. So much, and I can't let you go.”
Your jaw drops “YOU CANT SAY THAT TO A FUCKING CHILD! You know how wrong that is. Never tell I child that, Jesus Christ!”
"I don't care." DogDay spoke softly again, his tone was full of remorse. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. Because at the end of the day, I'm the only person that you're stuck with. I don't care if it's wrong. Don't you see that I care for you more than anyone else? I'm all you've got...that's a fact."
“Damn you can’t gaslight anyone these days” you muttered “I had a whole thing going” You sighed and crossed your arms
He laughs and keeps stroking your hair. "I know, aren't I cruel? So awful, right?" he chuckled, seemingly enjoying that you were getting annoyed. He sighed. "But...you have to realize, you are stuck here. I've kept you from danger and kept you from dying. And I mean...you do like my cooking...right?"
“I mean I tasted better in the school cafeteria” you whisper
DogDay's head snapped towards you suddenly like a predator. "You...what did you say?"
Before you could even open your mouth there was an ungodly sound, like bones rubbing together…CatNap.
DogDay froze, his ears and tail dropping. You could see him shaking like a leaf. CatNap was here. "...stay as quiet as you can..." he whispered
You nodded and followed along with DogDay
You hid in the closet...hiding behind the coats in it. In just a few seconds, the door flew off its hinges. CatNap appeared in the opening of the doorway. His body was covered in blood...some fresh, others dried, and some...rotting. "There you are, DogDay...I see you're hiding." CatNap's voice was warped and twisted into an evil mockery of a normal person's voice...like a psychopath.
CatNap raised his hands and laughed evilly. "I heard you two talking...don't you dare think I wouldn't stop by. You're such a predictable creature DogDay...and you...little child"
You scoffed “Hey I'm pretty tall for my age you Pussy!”
"Pussy? Oh...oh how sweet. That's cute. Do you really believe that I'll take offense to that? You have a lot of balls, little child."
You gasp and cover your mouth “Ooo he cussed”
DogDay yells “NOW IS NOT THE TIME ANGEL”
CatNap sniggered and looked down at DogDay. "Oh, you're actually protecting her? Now that's a first for you. I wonder how she'd taste...just a taste would probably do..."
DogDay snarled “Don't you go near her you baste-”
CatNap's arm shot out, wrapping around DogDay's throat. He tightened his grip. "You're protecting a human...after I told you to take her out into that warzone and let her fend for herself...you've always been weak. Always following orders blindly, like a puppet, never thinking for yourself."
“DOGDAY!!!” You screamed
CatNap laugh as DogDay gasped for air. "Ah, yes...you're quite loud..too bad your screams won't reach anyone. But oh. I forgot"
You grabbed a broken pipe nearby, swatting his head forcefully as you could with it, cutting your hands in the proces, DogDay gets dropped to the ground as catnap roars, scrambling away “NOW THAT'S A PUSSY!” You yelled
as CatNap ran off you ran over to DogDay who was coughing like he just smoked ten pounds of weed
“DogDay…are you okay? Are you hurt”
DogDay took several deep breaths as he looked up at you. "I should be asking that to you, doll. Are you okay?" then he gave you a small smirk. "You know...I didn't know how you were capable of swinging that thing with such ease...you remind me of someone. You're a fierce little warrior, aren't you?"
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lizslibrary · 26 days
Text
Mirror
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Summary: Reader is Bucky's next-door neighbor when they hear him having a nightmare. Reader helps him see his reflection in the mirror and reminds him that his scars are beautiful because they are proof that he survived.
A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on my last story, It gave me the courage to write a second one. The last fic I wrote was done in the first person so I thought I would try my hand in second person to see how it goes. Please let me know of any compliments or criticism that you have, it would really help a lot! 🤍
Warnings: Nightmare, PTSD, Bucky being insecure, self-deprivation (Bucky,) Crying, hurt/comfort.
Word count: 1339.
__________________________________
You awoke to the sound of screaming from across the hall, it didn't take long to figure out Bucky was having another nightmare. You prop yourself up on one elbow, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to being awake. Forcing yourself out of your bed, you open your door and step into the dimly lit hallway of your apartment building. You gently raise your fist and knock on Bucky's apartment door, hoping he'll answer.
Not long after, the door creaks open and Bucky stands in the doorway looking disheveled and tired. He was wearing loose sweatpants, and his skin was gleaming with sweat. his eyes reddened and brimmed with tears yet to be spilled. You stare at him for a moment noticing how his long hair is sticking to the sides of his face, and how there were dark smudges under each eye.
"Bucky?" You say softly, almost as if he was a bomb waiting to detonate. "Can I come in?"
Bucky nods quietly, holding the door open a little wider. I look around noticing how messy his apartment is. Pillows and blankets were on the ground, and his boots were on two separate sides of the room, one leaning against the TV stand, while the other was in the corner. The only furniture in the room was a small, grey couch and a little coffee table that sat between the TV and the sofa.
Bucky stared at you silently, his eyes were dark. "I'm sorry I woke you." He said, his voice low and shaky.
You shook your head "Don't worry about it Bucky, it wasn't your fault." You say gently, sitting down on his couch and gesturing for him to sit next to you. "Are you okay?"
Bucky shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair "No" He says quietly, closing his eyes. "They won't stop, every time I try to sleep these nightmares keep coming back."
Your heart began to ache at the thought of Bucky suffering through these awful nightmares, night after night. You recall all the times when he would wake you up screaming, telling you how he had just dreamt about Hyrda, about how these visions of death and violence constantly haunt him.
"You don't deserve this Bucky." You say, observing the way he covered himself up with a blanket.
Bucky turned to face you "I'm a monster..." he said lowly. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Bucky closed his eyes tightly, and tears fell freely from his cheeks.
"No Bucky, you're not." You say, gently placing your hand over his shaking one. "Bucky, you've done nothing wrong, none of this is your fault."
He looked away from you, eyes falling to the floor "I know, but I still did it."
You sigh "Buck, listen to me." You say, keeping your voice gentle. "You were being brainwashed and manipulated. They made you do horrible things that you had no control over."
Bucky remained silent, letting out a deep breath before looking at you. "They ruined me Y/n, my body is filled with ugly scars." He said pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "When I go out in public little people, children even, are scared of my arm...It just reminds me of my past and what I've done." He says softly "Hydra ruined me."
You place your hand on his blanket-covered back slowly making circles with my fingernails. "Bucky, you are the kindest most handsome man I've ever met, your past does not define your present." You say, "You have gone out of your way to protect and take care of me even before we became close."
His cheeks tinted pink "Y/n...thank you." He whispered, taking a deep breath "But-"
You stop him "No buts Bucky." You say firmly "Can I show you the Bucky that I see?" You take his hand, pulling the blanket off his back, and leading him gently into the bathroom turning him so that he can see his reflection in the mirror.
"What do you see when you look at yourself?" You ask, keeping your voice soft.
Turning his head away from the mirror, Bucky swallowed hard. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he took a deep breath. "Scars..." He mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.
You nod, rubbing his back "Anything else?"
Bucky peers back to the mirror, his eyes landing on the scar tissue that connects his shoulder to his vibranium arm, he clenches his jaw and grips the sink tightly.
Your gaze is soft as you watch Bucky look at himself, with sorrow and pain. He doesn't reply as he turns away from the mirror, dropping his head in shame.
"Listen to me bucky..." You say, standing next to him in the mirror "Your scars are beautiful."
He glances up at you "How could they possibly be?" He asks, fighting back the tears that welled in his eyes.
You smile warmly "Because you fought your way out of hell, you persevered through torture and you lived; they are a reminder that you survived." You tell him, your eyes never leaving his. "You are the strongest, most beautiful man I have ever met." You say, turning to face him.
Bucky wipes his eyes quickly, inhaling sharply. He stares at you a moment before letting out a deep breath "Thank you..." He whispers, averting his eyes once more.
You squeeze his hand lightly "You don't have to thank me." You say softly. "You deserved to hear it."
Bucky stares down at you, his glossy eyes filled with gratitude, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. You wrap your arms around him in return, feeling the tension seep from his body. He sniffles "I don't deserve you doll." He whispers, bringing his forehead to rest against your shoulder.
"No, you deserve more."
You weren't sure why, but you felt like you needed to be persistent in reminding him that he was worthy of love and affection, regardless of what happened in his past.
"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He breathes, bringing his hand up to your head and running his fingers through your hair.
With a contented sigh, you let your fingers glide over Bucky's skin, tracing his muscles and spine. He shudders under your touch, tightening his grip around your waist. He leans into you, his forehead resting on yours.
"It feels good to hold you." He murmurs, pushing his nose against your cheek.
You smile against his chest "That's sweet Bucky, feels good to hold you too" You murmur.
Bucky lets out a soft chuckle, a light tickle brushing against your ear. You reach up, running your hand through his silky hair, gently combing it out of his eyes. You tilt his head up so that his eyes meet your own.
"Are you ready to go back to bed?" You say, staring into his eyes. You could tell that he was tired, his pale blue eyes looking dull and heavy.
He nods slowly, resting his chin against your shoulder before pulling away and walking into his room "Yeah." He mutters.
You turn around, walking back into the bedroom. As you shut the door behind you, you hear Bucky sigh as he climbs onto his bed. You walk over to the bed and sit down, facing Bucky.
He closes his eyes and lets out a long exhale "Thanks for talking to me sweetheart...You didn't have to stay up this long." He says, his voice cracking slightly.
You run your fingers through his hair "Don't worry about it Bucky, I wanted to." You say, leaning forward and kissing his forehead "Goodnight."
Bucky stares at you, looking at you as if he is trying to memorize every feature.
"Y/n?" He asks barely audible.
"Yeah?"
"Can you stay here tonight?" He says, his voice hoarse.
A small smile appears as you walk to the other side of the bed and gently crawl under the covers. immediately, Warmth envelops you as you settle into the blankets. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat from Bucky's body beneath the blankets. You lean forward, bringing your lips to his temple.
"Goodnight Buck." You murmur.
"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he whispers softly, drawing you close to his chest as he drifts into the first peaceful sleep he has had in years.
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purplestars222 · 2 months
Text
Period comfort with hazbin characters
ft alastor, lucifer, fallen!adam and husk
gn afab reader! no y/n used, and you arent in a relationship with alastor, just besties <3 all the other boys have a crush on you.
there will be more parts, may not be period comfort tho, just more hazbin/helluva characters comforting the reader while theyre sick
cw: mentions of period sex, adam is chubby, slight ooc
mdni please<3
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Alastor
The smell of blood draws alastor to your room, hes a little worried that you're hurt, but its nothing he cant fix. As he enters your room, and sees you curled up in the fetal position he goes and sits next to you
"Darling, whats the matter? It's a wonderful day and you're spending it in bed! I believe Charlie is baking cookies! You-"
"go away alastor. i'm on my period."
"Well why didnt you say so!"
Alastor disappears into his shadow, and returns a few minutes later with a hot water bottle, a bottle of cold water, some pain meds and dark chocolate. He throws the items on your bed and smiles at you expectingly. You shoot him back a smile of appreciation. Even tho alastor and you had your moments, he's still a good friend when he needs to be.
Lucifer
Lucifer has a crush on you, and its no secret either. Every day he sits next to you during breakfast, he always makes sure you eat enough. He always does Charlie's silly little trust exercises with you, just being in your vicinity makes him happy. When you dont come down for breakfast, he gets worried, he made your favourite for you- pancakes! He decides to take some to your room. When he enters, and sees you curled up on the bed, he sits the tray of pancakes on your bedside table and sits next to you
"Hey, you didnt come down for breakfast, are you okay??"
you shake your head no, and he seems really concerned. He hates seeing you in pain, its horrible. Suddenly he remembers something- lillith acted like this when she first came to hell, periods. In the garden of eden, lilliths periods didnt hurt her, but as soon as she came to hell, it felt like her uterus was stabbing her, luckily luci fixed it
"Can i help?"
You stare up at him, eyes slightly watering from the pain and nod your head, anything to get rid of this. Luci carefully peels back your blanket and rests his hands on your groin, you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands, its nice. Theres a bright glow of golden light, and suddenly, the pains gone, the period pain at least, you still have a headache, and you're still pretty exhausted. You pull luci into a hug, he hugs back, giving you a kiss on the head
"Want me to run you a bath, sweetheart?"
"Yes please"
Lucifer hops up and heads into your ensuite, he starts a bath, making sure to get some really nice smelling soap and bath salts. He puts some rose petals in the tub to make it look pretty, and a couple of rubber duckies. Lucifer cares so much, hes so sweet.
Adam
Adam doesn't really understand the whole 'periods thing'. They didn't have them in heaven, so he doesn't really know what to do when you wake up grabbing your stomach. He pulls out his phone and decides to have a look online to see if there's anything he can get that will help, theres products from the vee's, but he doesnt trust those fuckers. He scrolls across an article that says orgasms can help with period cramps. When adam first shoots the idea at you, you're hesitant, period sex isnt something you've done before, and it seems a little scary, but you let him. He puts a towel under the both of you, and he makes sure that you 100% wanna do this before he gets started. When you guys have done, your pains are pretty much gone. he pulls you on top of him and you just lay there for awhile, enjoying the warmth from adams soft belly <3
Husk
Husk isn't too educated with this stuff either, but he knows how to take care of someone when they're sick. He doesn't realise you have your period at first, he just thinks it's a stomach bug. He gets you some chicken noodle soup and a few painkillers, when you explain to him that you have no appetite because of how bad the pain is, it suddenly clicks in his brain what's happening. He gives you a small kiss on the forehead, then walks out. He goes to charlie asking for help, she gathers together a basket full of snacks, pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, period underwear, hot water bottle with a cute cat cover and some noise cancelling headphones, in case things get overwhelming. Husk brings it back to you and lets you snuggle into him, something he doesn't allow very often. You spend the next few days cuddled up in bed, playing with husks ears watching movies. He helps you when you need to shower, and also keeps your hot water bottle hot. he just really enjoys taking care of you, not that he'd admit that
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flametrashira · 2 months
Note
imagine jealous Ranpo 🫣 he would turn so needy nghhh
WAAAAAA I need this immediately. My pouty baby boy. This turned out so much softer than I thought it would. I just want to take care of him!
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Pairing: Ranpo x f!reader.
Content Guidance: NSFW. Jealous, needy Ranpo. Fingering. Cunnilingus. He cums from eating you out. Approx 1k words.
The Green-eyed Monster.
It really wasn't your fault. Ranpo knew just how easy Dazai found it to charm women. He'd lost count of the number of times the bandaged detective had gotten information out of ladies, disarming them with just with a little flirting, a smile, or a well-timed quip. He was smart, handsome, and devious, and so, when his heady gaze fell to you, Ranpo wasn't surprised at all by your reaction.
None of it was intentional. You couldn't control the way your face flushed when Dazai grinned at you, or how his jokes made you giggle. You couldn't help but feel flustered when he complimented your shoes and asked if you'd consider doing him the honor of stepping on his neck and cutting off his air supply. Of course you politely declined, but it didn't stop Ranpo from ruminating on it.
Solving crimes was nothing. Love... love was a much more vexing mystery.
He spent the rest of the morning battling with a constant weight in his chest and the nagging (and frankly annoying,) feeling that he needed to remind you that he loved you and you loved him. He needed to be touching you in some way just to feel like the world still had color; holding your hand beneath the meeting table during briefings, stealing you away for cuddles in the copier room. But no matter what he did, he couldn't shake that horrible ache.
So, a little while later, as you worked at your desk, Ranpo scooted his chair beside you and rested his chin on your shoulder. His pitiful pout reflected in your monitor screen, as well as the deep despondency in his eyes.
Bending your arm to affectionately pet his hair, you asked, "What's the matter?"
He couldn't put it into words. Not without sounding pathetic. So he simply let his face slide down until it was his forehead on your shoulder and his pout was hidden from you. And there you let him stay as you continued working, your keyboard keys clacking as his heart tore itself to shreds.
"You smell like caramel," you said after a while, your voice so gentle and tender.
Caramel... Soft. Sweet. Childish.
And what did Dazai smell like? Faded sandalwood cologne, whisky... manly things. Scents ladies found sexy.
Ranpo couldn't help but wonder if you subconsciously compared them that way too. Oh, you most assuredly loved Ranpo, but he still wondered if some part of you longed for Ranpo to be a little more Dazai.
It bothered him all day. He barely ate half of the dozen custard buns he brought for lunch and morosely nibbled on his Pocky on the walk home.
"Did something upset you today?" you asked finally when he sat picking at his dinner later that evening.
Ranpo simply sighed and leaned against you. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing if it hurt you."
He knew you weren't going to drop it. You always bugged him until he told you what was going on every time he got upset.
Folding his arms over his chest, he huffed, frustrated that he even had to say it at all. "Fine. I'm worried you don't find me sexy."
"Ranpo..."
"I'm not tall and mysterious like Dazai. You don't laugh at my jokes-"
"You don't make jokes..."
He paused for a second, letting that sink in. "Huh..."
"And for the record, I find you incredibly sexy. Everything about you... the way you look, the way you are, your smile, your laugh, your voice... the way you've been clinging to me all day." You took his hand and led it under the table, beneath your skirt. "You want to know how sexy I find you?"
He did.
Ranpo's breath hitched as he pushed aside your underwear, finding your pussy so warm and slick to the touch there was absolutely no denying any of what you said.
"You see how wet you get me?"
"Uh-huh..." he breathed, barely able to string together a thought. God, you were soaked, and just from a little cuddling. His heart surged as you let out a breathy moan, your back arching from the way he was stroking your clit. He pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to your neck, relief tangling with desire. You were his. His.
He was on his knees between your thighs in an instant, not caring one bit if the desperate little whine which emerged from him as he tugged down your panties sounded pathetic. He needed you right now, and if he didn't get to taste you he'd go mad.
The taste of you always gave him twinges in his lower belly, and as he pressed his face to your pussy, he was so hard it felt like his cock was going to burst through his pants. He kissed your clit again and again, each kiss more heated and hungry than the last until you gasped his name. Oh, and how he loved the sound of that. All he wanted was to lick and suck on you, make you feel good. Nothing else mattered.
Your fingers running through his hair gave him tingles, the way you pushed your hips up against his mouth made him moan. Oh, you felt so good, you tasted so good. And you were his. His. His. His.
He moaned against your pussy as he came, his cock throbbing so hard inside his trousers it made him dizzy. And as he whined and mewled through it, you cradled the back of his head in your hand, grinding yourself against his lolling tongue, coming with him and gasping praises which made his thighs tremble.
"God, Ranpo, you're amazing. I love you so much."
"Yeah, I know," he sighed contentedly, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your belly. "Doesn't take a genius detective to figure that out."
648 notes · View notes
nariism · 4 months
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*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR
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pair. itadori yuji x reader
synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.
content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman
wc. ~4.4k
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NOVEMBER 1 2018
You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.
"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.
Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.
You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.
Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.
The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.
He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.
And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.
Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.
"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."
Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.
"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.
"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."
"You're not evil, Yuji."
"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.
You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.
"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"
"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.
"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"
His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.
You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.
"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."
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You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.
You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.
The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.
"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.
His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"
"I can't until you do."
"That's stupid," he tells you.
It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.
A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.
It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.
You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.
There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.
"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.
"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.
You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.
"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.
"Huh? 2 was way better."
"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.
"2 had the best special effects though."
Your body shifts under his blanket.
"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)
His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.
"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.
Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.
"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.
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NOVEMBER 2 2018
You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones. 
You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.
Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.
When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.
"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.
He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.
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You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.
He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.
You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.
"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"
He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."
You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.
"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"
He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.
"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"
"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."
Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.
"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."
"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"
Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.
"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.
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The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.
You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.
Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.
You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.
A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.
On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.
To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.
Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.
The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.
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Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.
He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.
You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.
"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.
It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.
The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.
It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)
At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.
Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.
His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.
"What?" You ask.
"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.
"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.
He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."
You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.
Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.
An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?
"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.
He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?
"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."
You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.
For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.
(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)
Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.
You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.
If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.
"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.
But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.
Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.
Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.
He kisses you like it's his last day on earth. 
You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.
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Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.
He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.
You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.
It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?
Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.
Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.
"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly.  You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."
There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.
"Like I could just... reach out and—"
"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.
When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.
It was nice to have you fawning over me.
You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.
"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.
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(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.
So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)
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NOVEMBER 3 2018
The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.
His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.
Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.
It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.
"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.
"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."
"I can fight!"
"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."
Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.
"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"
Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.
You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"
Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.
"We will."
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You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.
“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”
You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”
She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.
“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”
“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”
You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.
Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.
“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.
You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.
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You watch as they pack up their things.
Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.
Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.
"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"
You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?
He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.
A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."
I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.
He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.
When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.
"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."
Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.
But you stop.
"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.
You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
911 notes · View notes
adams-angels · 2 months
Note
I want to see my man in pain, Adam break down after reader said they want to break up (fluff in the end pls) 😞
I reaaaally enjoyed writing this
I love pain 🥹
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Used
Adam POV
It was a normal night. Out talking to some babes. Tellin' them how great I am. Because, well, I AM! HA! I'm the first fucking man! These bitches swarm me. Who am I to deny them. I check my phone a see y/n has text me. "Ugh, what do you want now you needy fuckin'" I can't believe what I'm reading.
"we're done."
My heart sinks. Why is it sinking. I don't care. I'm fucking ADAM!! Adam stands, pushing away the crowd of angels surrounding him and tries calling you. "Come on.. come on, pick up, you dumb bitch." No answer. NO FUCKING ANSWER. His head spins. Panic sets in as. This isn't happening. Not again.
You think you're better than me?! You're nothing! I'm Adam!! I can get ANYONE I FUCKING WANT YOU THINK I NEED YOU?!
I'VE GOT TONS OF BITCHES WAITING FOR ME!
I DONT NEED YOU I NEVER NEEDED YOU!
He tries calling you again. No answer. "FUCK!" He expands his wings and shoots up, smashing through the skylight. He continues to text and call as he makes his away to your apartment. "FUCKING ANSWER ME!" He screams into his phone. By the time he arrives at your apartment he calms himself down, "I can get them back." He thinks to himself as he lands on your balcony. "They didn't mean it. They couldn't of."
As he reaches for the handle of the sliding door his hand shakes. "No, no, no, no." He grips onto his wrist stepping back from the door, being stopped my the railing. He slides down to the floor. "No, no, no...." His voice cracks, fear, sadness, anger. He never let himself get close. At least that's what he told himself. After the second wife also betrayed him he swore he'd never care so he would never hurt. But somewhere along the way, he fell for you. Although he denied himself.
He rushed to remove his mask, feeling like he can't breathe. Once he got it off he threw it aside. Clutching at his chest as tears escaped from his eyes. "No, no, no.." he whimpered. He sat on the floor for an hour. Thinking about you. What he did wrong. If he did something terrible. Why you're ending it. There wasn't even anything to end and yet his world felt like it was crashing around him.
Once he calmed down he leaned forward and sighed. Wiping his cheeks as he stood up and put his mask back on. He reached for the handle, hesitating before opening the sliding door. He sees you in your bed, asleep. He closed the door quietly and just watched you. For about half an hour before he realised how much a creep he's being. He walked into your livingroom. He's been here plenty times before. He memorized the layout.
He walks over to one of your succulents. You loved them. Once he came over and accidentally knocked one on the floor. You were so upset. He didn't see the big deal but he still went out of his way to buy you a new pot for it and a new succulent altogether. Just something to say he was sorry without actually saying sorry. He smiled as he remembered your joy. He sat on the couch and waited.
A couple hours later he heard rustling in your room. He shot up from the couch and heading to your bedroom, freezing at the doorway as he sees you wake. You scream in surprise, falling off your bed. He noticed your phone falling off the nightstand with you. His chest tightens. Your phone. Those horrible texts. "Adam?! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" You yell at him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He stands there, feeling awkward. "You want to leave me?" He asked, trying hard to not break his voice. You tut, he watches at you stand, wanting to help but to afraid to move. "You say that like you cared." You snap, picking your phone up from the floor. "Don't look at that." He took a step towards you, reaching out but you recoiled. "Why? You next me nasty shit? Telling me I'm worthless? That I was lucky to -" he interrupted, "y/n, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."
Adam braces himself. For you to yell. For you to scream. For you to tell him you love someone else. "I just... I can't... I don't want to be a place holder for you." His shoulders slump down he hesitantly steps closer to you "What are you talking about?" He carefully slides his hand under yours "I don't want to be someone you just use until you find someone better." His fingers interlace with your as his other hand brushes your hair from you face. His breath catches seeing your red, watery eyes "I just want to be... I don't know, Adam."
His hand cups your face. He looks into your eyes and for the first time in eons he chose to be vulnerable. "Be mine?" He watches you shrug. Rightfully assuming you've misunderstood his request he clarifies "no, I'm asking. Be mine." The way you look at him makes his chest tighten in fear. "What?" He recoiled. "I mean, maybe we could start again? Like.. properly?"
"You mean like.. date? What happened to "I don't date. I'm the first man. I have the first penis ever bla bla!"" He glares at you. Of course you'd remember that. "I don't sound like that." "You do." Adam brow furrows in in frustration. "Whatever, y/n, please. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." He felt pathetic. He was pathetic. "I'll have to think about it." His chest tightened. His heart beating a million miles a minute. You'd see how pale he would be if he wasn't wearing the mask. "H-how long will that take?" He asked, desperation leaking out of him.
"I don't know, Adam." You shrug. The air was thick. He was struggling to breath and needed to get out of there. "I really care about you, y/n. You have to believe me, babe." He kisses your hand before releasing it. "Just.. uh... Delete those texts. I didn't mean any of it." He heads to the sliding door he entered from, opening it and expanding his wings as he jumps off. He looks behind to see if you watched leave like you've done so maybe times before. But you're not there.
It's been a month. A whole month. It should feel like nothing to him considering how long he's been in existence yet it feels like a years. He sees you about. With your friends. Getting groceries. Whenever his eyes catch on to you he freezes. No matter what he's doing.
He can't keep this up. He didn't want to pressure you. Make you feel like you had to choose him. But fuck he needed you to choose him. He was in his office. But he couldn't focus. He was so tired, not being able to sleep well without you. Even if he didn't sleep the whole night it was always nice knowing you were there no matter what. At least that's what he used to think.
He checked his phone to see nothing from you. It was too much. He was alone. You were never coming back. No one ever comes back. Lilith left him. Eve left him. Now you. "Fuck. FUCK!" He picks up his coffee and punts it at the wall. He can't stay here. He needs to find you. He needs you back.
He swung the door open and there you were. He couldn't believe it. He thought you'd at least text him. Not show up at his office! His feathers were literally ruffled, his office looks like a bombs hit it. "Y/n?" He said softly, it was like time stopped for a minute. He wish it did. Then he could scoop you in his arms and never let you leave. He snapped back into reality changing his expression quickly, not want anyone to see a softer side to him. "Come in." He stands aside letting you in to his office. He hates that you didn't text. He would of cleaned up there were documents everywhere, a smashed mug on the floor and coffee stains on the wall. He hated it was such a mess for you. "Bad day?" You commented he grumbled in response. "There are no bad days in heaven." He mumbled as he slumps down on his office chair.
Resting his chin on the back of his hand as he watches you walk over to his office window, opening it. The musky smell almost dissipating immediately "So... I thought about it." He perks up, sitting straight, watching you like a hawk. "And?"
"and I'm willing to start again. Properly." He immediately bolts from his chair, wrapping his arms around you. "Fuck, thank fucking Christ. Don't do that to me again. Please." His voice breaks, wings surrounded the both of you. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll treat you so much better." "Promise?" "Yes, promise."
~⁠♡✧⁠。 I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧⁠♡~⁠
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jellyluvr · 9 months
Note
if your taking requests can you please do a smut with tate basically where he's fucking us in the skull makeup????? you can make the rest however I've just never seen anyone make a fic with him and the skull makeup
Eyeliner
- tate langdon x fem!reader ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
I love this sm!! Ty for the request!!! Also this is kind of gonna be tweaked to my liking, so sorry if it doesn't fit too perfectly. (It still has skull makeup) also I think pieces of Cain posted a fic similar to this one but I promise I'm not stealing! (I'm horrible at titles pls help)
Tw: both r nervousish??, handjob?, a little bit of dick sucking, tate being a whiny BITCH!! And some p n v
S: after finishing tates makeup, you start your own but tate can't help but feel aroused by your body. After asking for help, you help him.
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Tate leaned against the bathroom wall, letting you touch up his skull makeup. You used an eyeliner since it was all you had, but it worked quite well.
He stared down at you, his hands in his pockets as he stayed quiet, allowing you to finish. Of course he didn't know if you were, but every so often you'd take the brush away and stare for a second. He thought it was cute, the way your nose scrunched up as you contemplated if it was good or not. He even smiled a bit.
His dimples showed as he gave a toothy grin, snickering at you as you watched. "What?" You said, quite offended. He just giggled more shaking his head. "It's fine.. just finish." He encouraged, his little giggles eventually fading. He returned to his neutral self, you touching up his nose as you tried to work with the outline you had done earlier.
As you worked, tate looked in the mirror, the reflection showing your ass. He loved those short.. short.. shorts. The tiny little strap on them made him go crazy.. the drawstrings tightened to fit your figure.. fuck.
You two weren't dating. More of just friends with occasional flirting, but tate had a crush on you. A huge crush. As childish as it sounded, he really did take peeks at you. Even when you changed.. but this was the first time he got a good view.
"Done! You like it?" You smiled, stepping back as he watched your ass move slightly, a tent growing in his pants. He turned to the mirror, nodding with another smile. "I love it. Thank you.." he moved in, his large hands gripping at your waist as he pulled you in for a hug.
He really only did it so he could see your ass in the mirror again, but he really focused on how your chest pressed against him. Oh how he loved you didn't wear bras.
Your tiny little shirt made him froth from mouth. It made him go feral.. it made him want to do unspeakable things to you. And as you clung to him, he made a move. His hand creeped to your ass, cupping it as your eyes opened, widening before you looked up.
You felt his hand rub against your ass cheek lightly as he looked in the mirror, watching it. He didn't seem to notice you looking up at him, so you finally said something. "Tate?" He let out a hum, his hand moving up to your waist again. "Why were you touching me there?" You felt butterflies in your stomach as you pulled from the hug a little, his hands falling from your waist.
He looked into your eyes, "Sorry.. where did I touch you?" He said, acting clueless. You raised a brow, your arms going over your chest as you laughed a little. "What? You can't make that excuse." You responded as his eyes watched your mouth move. Jesus.. even your mouth was hot. "I like when you talk like that." His eyes went back up to your eyes with a smile.
"Tate, seriously.." you rolled your eyes, and in the matter of one second tate moved in, hugging you again. "Thanks for the makeup too." He rubbed his hand over your head, slightly messing your hair up. "Yeah.. okay.." you said, pulling back before looking in the mirror, resting your body on the counter as you picked up the eyeliner you used on tate. You began to try and copy the makeup, starting on your eyes.
Tate couldn't help but look at your ass, his eyes almost turning into hearts as he stared down. "Fuck.." he cussed under his breath, one hand going to his throbbing boner as he gave it the attention it craved. He did it subtly, but enough to make him choke down a few moans. You hadn't noticed, but as you looked over you caught on to something being wrong.
Tate was being weird. Usually he'd flirt as a joke, maybe brush your cheek but he had never touched you intimately like earlier. Neither had he been bold enough to rub himself. You looked over at him, watching as he looked to you. "It looks good.. don't worry." He gave a thumbs up, his right hand remaining on his crotch. You looked down at it, then back up at his face before nodding. "Yeah, okay.." you rolled your eyes, returning back to the makeup as you laughed under your breath, his eyes traveling every curve on your body. Every detail was engraved in his head for later. For when he'd touch himself for real.
"Y/n, Where'd you get those shorts?" He asked, moving up a little as his hand abandoned his now, very disappointed cock. "Uhh.. like old navy maybe? I dunno.. I'll check later." You responded, focusing on your makeup.
Tate moved to where he was aligned with your ass his hand going to the band as he pulled it up, looking at the tag uncaring.
You immediately reacted, turning your head back as you let out a gasp, moving tates hand away. You looked up at him, standing as he smiled mischievously. "I was just checking the tag.. calm down." He responded, raising his hands up in defense. He had seen your panties.. and oh boy.. he wasn't disappointed. Neither was his dick.
You turned back to the mirror, a little annoyed at him. But, you couldn't lie.. you had quite the crush yourself. Everything he was doing was weird.. but you did like his boldness. You didn't want to admit it, but it did turn you on. How cheeky and careless he was. He was so fun to hang out with.. and he was cute. It was a win win.
Tate looked down at your ass, looking at how tight the shorts were. Damn. You really did things to him. You made him melt.. and he did just the same for you.
Both of you liked each other, a classic romance scenario. But, tate was much bolder than you. You were the opposite of him when you guys were together. Tate had his past.. his dark doings haunting him. He had never been much of a talker, but you had brought him out of his shell.
You had changed him.
"Are you copying me?" He said, dramatically scowling as you laughed a little, looking at him through the mirror. "I did yours, it's my work." You continued as tate leaned on the counter with you, trying to appreciate for who you were without checking you out.
His eyes drifted to your tits a few times, but he managed to control himself. Sadly, his boner wasn't too happy with his good behavior. And soon, as he looked at you a few times, it became painful. Very.
The restraints of his pants were killing him, and his mind was invaded with thoughts of you... him touching you and you touching him. Tate needed to think of something gross, or get off.
He chose get off.
But, the problem was how? He wanted you to help him.. and he came up with the perfect solution as you messed with the eyeliner.
"You'd do anything to like.. help me, right?" He asked out of the blue, his face slightly shaded red. You turned to him, putting down the eyeliner with worry. "Yeah, what's up?" You leaned your head on your hand, looking at him as he shuffled uncomfortably. Actually asking for it made him really nervous.
"Well," he bit down on his tongue as he looked at you, your innocence killing him. "Just.." he sighed, his hand going in his hair as he tried to compose himself. "Don't think I'm weird, okay?" He looked at you with his chocolate brown eyes, seeming to be sincere. You nodded, smiling as you did so. You loved tate. He was your best friend.. your only friend. "Of course, tate." You confirmed, waiting for his supposed confession.
"I've got a boner." He said, his eyes moving from yours as his face turned red. You stared for a moment, almost laughing before realizing he was serious. "And you want me to help you?" You said, your body beginning to heat up. "Yes.. yes.. I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have asked." He said quickly, clearly a bit scared.
This was a little shocking from how bold he had been, but I guess he was just a weird guy overall.
"I can help... yeah." You responded, standing up as you felt a kick of confidence. Tate cleared his throat, looking down at his pants as you did the same. Before he could say anything more, your hand went to the zipper of his pants, undoing it. Tate felt a little surprised, but relieved that you were forward. He smiled to himself, watching as you pulled his dick through, finally letting his hard on free.
He let out a low groan as he watched, your eyes looking down at him before you put your hand around his shaft, looking up at him. He felt his face turn red as he let you suck on his tip, your fist moving up and down along him as you did so. "Fuck.." his head shot back as you did the bare minimum. You hadn't ever done this before, but this was definitely nice to watch. Your mouth went on him deeper, causing him to tug on your hair.
He looked so much hotter in that skull makeup..
You sucked a little harder, his face looking down at yours as he shoved himself farther in your throat, thrusting at a steady pace. "Oh god.." he groaned, pulling out before pulling you up off your knees and instead pushed against the counter. Before you could even react, his hands had tugged down your slutty shorts, revealing your ridiculously small panties. He pushed those to the side, sliding into you with the help of your slick as he filled up your pussy. His grip moved to your hips, you face pushed into the counter from the pleasure and pain mix... "tate.." you moaned, biting down on your lip as he thrusted up into you, hitting your cervix. You let out a yelp, the feeling too much.
"Tate!" This time, you were much louder, and he began to move in and out, looking at you pussy as it slowly got used to his size. "Sorry.." he said quietly, still moving. Apart of him felt bad for just doing that, but you couldn't deny the wonderful feeling that filled your body. "Mm.." you mumbled, Tates thrusts going faster. "You like that?" He pushed out, going faster as each thrust filled your throbbing pussy. You nodded with desperation, your hands clawing at nothing on the counter.
"F-fuck!" You squeaked out, your eyes squeezing shut as your skin plapped with his, his thrusts becoming too much to bare. "Tate! Tate!" You said between grinding teeth, your clit aching with your orgasm approaching. Tate was close too, and with a final moan, he came, pulling out as he watched you ooze with cum. You opened your eyes, looking up at him in the mirror as his face makeup seemed much more blurry.. maybe even ruined with sweat.
"Mmgh.." Tate breathlessly moaned guiding his tip and rubbing your clit with his cock. The overstimulation made him whine some, but it was enough to make you cum. Your eyes rolled back with pleasure, your squeaks and moans growing as you finally hit your climax.
"Thank you.." you said quietly, your legs feeling much more week then usual. "Thank you too.." Tate said in a low tone, feeling as he collapsed next to you, his cock softening after the orgasm.
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Taglist: @kaismanwich @tatelangdonsgirll @daylas-life @hyperharlz @kaiju-superstar @howtobesasha @luttic @spill-the-t @ima0nahlol
Fully aware this sucks sorry. Next scenario based on this ask will be linked once it's posted. 🫠
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unholyhelbig · 2 months
Note
Can we have the last chapter of oversight??
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Title: The Oversight [Part 7/7]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Wordcount: 7200
Warnings: Blood, (a lot of blood) Gun violence, childhood trauma, a shoot out, murder, and horrible grammar.
[A/n: This is it!! I wanted to thank everyone so beyond much for sticking with this story. I do suck at endings, so I'm sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations (I'm also writing this after the worst case of covid I've ever had). I'm more than happy to continue reader and Nat's story in some oneshots if you want to request some!]
[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]
Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests
Sheets of warm spring rain soaked into your clothes. Despite its tepid temperature, you were chilled to the bone. By the time you had taken Ronnie from her car seat in the back and coaxed a drowsy Darcy from the front seat, there was no dry part of you. A light wind had picked up and you were positive that your skin was pale, cold. Your lips are blue and shaking. It felt right to knock.
It was Yelena who answered the door, and she did so sparingly. It was just a crack at first, letting out a stream of golden light that caught the storm in its clutches. Then it was flung open entirely, and you had to squint against the brightness.
Darcy had a good grip on Ronnie’s hand, blinking away the last of her exhaustion as she started into the massive foyer and the house that was built around it. Yelena wore a bubblegum pink robe that was fuzzy. It looked warm. Her collarbone was littered in a smattering of blue and purple bruises. She dragged the two ends together to cover her skin.
“Y/n, it’s late.”
You were well aware of what time it was. This was Yelena’s odd way of asking if you were okay. She stepped to the side and allowed the three of you to enter, sopping wet. That was a good sign. Despite her abrasiveness, Natasha’s sister had more than one soft spot. One was for Kate, another for you, and even a small one for Clint.
“Holy shit…” Darcy whispered.
“It’s impressive, no?”
Yelena frowned, glancing up to the second level. The hall light flicked on, and you knew that Natasha had stirred. You’d awoken the dragon, not something that you were against doing. It felt stupid to have the worry of Ronnie being here in the back of your mind. This was an emergency situation.
Your heart started to pound faster and you shivered into yourself when she appeared at the top of the stairs. There was worry in her fern-colored stare. Why were you there? Why was your misfit family with you? It was late.
None of those questions came with Natasha, however. Instead, she wrapped you in her warm embrace. Your skin was frigid against her own, damp with the brutal attention of the storm. She had no objections to letting you sink into her embrace, wetting her pajamas.
“Dorogaya, chto sluchilos'?”
You pulled back, her fingers still digging into your waist. Yelena had been teaching you Russian, though you only picked up on a few words a time, you understood exactly the tone of her voice. “Carol… she was waiting for me at home.”
A hardness returned to her stare as she glanced at Ronnie who was overly interested in the tile pattern of the floor, and Darcy who was trying to work the pressure from her head with small touches to her nose.
“Did she hurt you?” her voice was a low growl “any of you?”
You shook your head. “Drugged Darcy, but it seems to be wearing off. Ronnie is alright. Carol said she was a friend and shit, Nat, I taught her about stranger danger, but she came straight to the door. I didn’t prepare her for anything like that.”
Yelena had wandered in her silent, cat-like way. She seemed to spawn back into the foyer with warm towels that felt like heaven against your skin. Your fingers were numb along with your emotions. Carol had entered your home. She entered your home.
This fact seemed to sink into Natasha’s bones. While she still held a strong grip on your shoulders there was a certain type of anger that edged through her from top to bottom. A storm brewed behind her eyes and threatened to shatter her cool confidence.
“Lena,” the word broke against her tongue “Will you please take Ronnie and Darcy to a guest room upstairs. I’m sure they’re exhausted.”
There was no objection from any party. You were once again left alone with Natasha, a charged feeling in the air that pulled the two of you together. She pressed her forehead against yours, breath warm on your collarbone.
“I’m going to kill her.”
“Nat,”
“I am. I don’t have another choice. There are clear lines that can’t be crossed and she just cut every single one of them.” Natasha hurriedly pushed strands of wet hair behind your ears, clearing your eyes. “She did this as a statement.”
“And if it’s a trap?”
“It most certainly is, darling, but that won’t stop us from walking into it.”
Very carefully, you thought about your next words, your next actions. It was easy to throw Natasha off, despite her resolute standing when she made a final decision. You felt her body pressed against yours, innate in its comfort and warmth. It would make you ache if she pulled away.
The words came out as a whisper “I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
She attempted to step back, but your hands were tight against the silk of her robe. You held her there and she didn’t resist the tension. It was the first time you had really studied your own hands. They were different, entirely so, from those that serviced strangers at the diner.
There were soft bubblegum pink scars on your palms, and harder, darker ones on your knuckles from the countless hours you’d leaned into the pain of each punch. Natasha’s shoulder against the sand-filled bag as she stood against the strength you mustered.
A bruise from the last time you’d entered the shooting range bubbled under the surface of your palm, and it was this that Natasha stared at the hardest as you gripped her with an intensity she had yet to see.
“Did I ever tell you about my second foster father?” You asked, having released your hold, but keeping your hand splayed on her chest. You weren’t sure if you were holding her steady, or yourself. She shook her head. “Deputy Sheriff Edwards. He was a high school quarterback in Minnesota before he blew out his knee and would never let you forget it.
“And mostly… mostly he was a good guy. But, he worked long hours and had a mean streak that would show itself after a beer or two. If he had more, it was worse. He’d stumble in and find one of us kids to go out for shooting practice in the acreage behind the house.”
Natasha swallowed thickly and clenched her eyes shut for a moment. She hadn’t asked you about your familiarity with a gun and considered it a small blessing that you didn’t’ shy away from the weapon. Not only that, but you were quite nearly an expert shot once you got over the nervous familiarization.
“Locking the bedroom door, it worked sometimes, but not always. I had to pick and choose the nights when I wasn’t up for it. Usually in the winter. Minnesota gets cold, below freezing when the sun goes down behind the horizon. So cold that it burns your lungs to breathe, and you have to force your eyes open.
“Deputy Sheriff Edwards, when he couldn’t have me, he would go for my foster brother Andrew. I could hear the pistol going off, over and over again for hours. There was a distinct change in sound when the bullet actually hit the tin cans and it was… that night it was scarce. When you missed- when you missed, he got angrier.”
Natasha let out a shaky breath and pressed her forehead against yours. She was impossibly comforting, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her and bury your nose in the small of her neck to stave off the cold. But you had to make her understand that you could handle this.
“That night, Andrew missed one too many cans and each shot was pockmarked by a hit to the temple. It was right outside my bedroom window, and the snow, the snow makes everything so much louder.” It was you that pulled in a desperate breath this time, greedy and hungry “a boy can only take so much before he aims the gun at something other than a can and pulls the trigger.”
She had reached up and used her thumb to wipe away a tear you didn’t know you shed, spreading it against your cheek. “Malysh, I can’t bare to put you through more pain.”
“That’s not your choice to make,” you whispered back, reaching up and wrapping your fingers gently around her wrist. “Whether you like it or not, Nat, you’ve spent the last six months training me to be the protector that you’ve needed. It would be a crime not to have me by your side through this, after she came into my home and threatened my family. This anger, this rage, will do nothing but serve us.”
Natasha let out a watery chuckle, “alright, Summer Sentient, stay on my six.”
There was a shed at the edge of Natasha’s large property that you rarely entered. There were too many memories attached to the location. The first time you had opened the door and clocked the coloring of the floor and the coolness of the structure, you knew that it wasn’t a place you wanted to return often.
When you had first stirred months ago with your arms tied behind your back, your mouth fuzzy and tasting of blood- it was here that they had taken you. Through your exhaustive haze, you figured it was a larger place, a storage unit or even an airplane hanger at the edge of a runway. Instead, it was a simple one-room shed that was kept ice cold and made to look infinite through mental manipulation and large intense lights.
Kate Bishop seemed to sense your simple unease and moved to help your fumbling fingers with the gun holster that was secured around your chest. Like always, Natasha organized a united front and a pep talk before going into a situation that none of you could truly prepare for.
“It’s going to be okay, you know” Kate murmured after she fastened the buckle, clapping you on the shoulder. Her eyes lingered on Natasha, on Yelena as the two of them spoke in hushed voices near a small counter that you hadn’t realized was there in the dark.
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Like an open book. It’s obvious how much you care for one another, and nothing is obvious with this family.” Kate moved to the other side of you, you tracked her with your eyes. Clint, in turn, watched the two of you interact from his perched spot near the far wall. “It took two years for Yelena to show any type of affection towards me.”
“Jesus Christ, I know she’s stoic, but shit.”
“Shit is right. I was head over heels for her within the first week. Mind you, I was suffering severe trauma and thrown into something much beyond myself. But I chipped away at her overtime, wore her down until she was comfortable enough telling me what she feels. But with the Romanoff’s, it’s not just about what they feel. It’s how they feel.”
You lifted both of your eyebrows at her. Kate handed you the jacket that was draped over a nearby chair, you toyed with it in your hands, moved your fingers over the brass buttons. It was much too warm in here to put on yet.
“Natasha is one of the scariest people I have ever met and It’s not because of her dripping ledger. It has everything to do with how much she cares. And she cares about you, y/n. It’s why she’s so reluctant to bring you along to something like this. To the end.”
“Thank you, Kate. For leading me through all of this.”
“Anytime, y/n. Can’t have you dying on us, can we?”
The plan was simple; there was no plan. A deal was supposed to met in a quick and clean way. Much like the restaurant, Natasha just needed you to simply be there to back her up. There was neutral ground at the edge of the shipyard that was far away enough from the unassuming population. Carol had agreed to meet there; tentatively.
There was something so civil and political about a business that was saturated in black sticky blood. You had a jarring feeling that tonight would be it for you, the moment of no return. Once you entered in a united front behind Natasha, your life would never be the same.
You didn’t want it to be.
Natasha Romanoff drove you absolutely wild, but had a way of calming that storm all the same. Though she’d never allow it, you would take bullets for her. But, you’d also take bullets for the little girl that you struggled to confront now.
The leather binding against your chest suddenly felt too stuffy. You’d often hid it behind the guise of a jacket or slid it into your glovebox before you trudged up the rickety stairs to your apartment. Now it was hugged as tightly as Kate could get it, pinching the fabric of your shirt.
Ronnie had looked up from the book she’d curled up with at the end of the sofa. She stared at it with quiet eyes. Everything she did was quiet but this time it felt more judge mental than usual. Natasha sidled up behind you, one ringed hand pressing calmly into the small of your back.
“Remember what I told you on the Ferris Wheel?” Natasha asked.
“She’ll talk when she’s ready.”
“Mm,” Natasha gave you a soft kiss behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I know that look. She wants to talk.”
The mafia boss gave you a little shove forward before making herself comfortable leaning against the doorframe that you had just vacated. She was begrudgingly right. Veronica had scooted over deliberately and given you room next to her.
Ronnie allowed you to get comfortable next to her, running her small fingers over the leather of the holster. You stopped her before she could reach the sheathed weapon, gently lowering both of your hands to your lap.
“Natasha?”
The woman stood up straighter, looking into the expectant eyes of your daughter. She patted the empty seat on the other side of her and you watched as your girlfriend struggled not to flounder under the weight of the request. Eventually she joined the two of you on the couch, nervously twisting the closest ring around her finger.
“I’m not stupid” Ronnie said.
You frowned “No one said you were stupid, baby.”
Your daughter was glowering at you. It took years to read her facial expressions, but the one that was on her features now was loud and clear. “You can’t come home with bruises like that and expect me not to notice.”
You blinked at her dumbly. Yes, kids were perceptive, Ronnie more than others. But no part of you wanted to expose you to the life you’d been thrown in. Guilt was weighing down Natasha’s shoulders, she glanced at you sheepishly.
“You weren’t supposed to join the mob. I know why you did it, though.”
Good god, she was smart. Smarter than you’d ever give her credit for. Everyone wants to believe that their child is special but there was a certain pride in your chest that rivaled your fear. She pulled her little hand from yours and placed it on the spine of the book.
She seemed to lose interest in you altogether and turned her attention to Natasha. “Don’t let her get hurt.”
“I…Are you giving me the shovel talk?”
“I don’t know what that means, just make sure my mom’s okay.”
Natasha swallowed the dryness in her mouth, it was nearly audible. “You don’t have to worry about that, kid. I promise.”
There was an innate fear coiled in the center of your stomach, and the cacophony of footfalls against weathered docks did nothing to ease your pitfall of feelings. Clint towered over you in height, walking with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets to ward off the chill of the summer wind.
Kate and Yelena stalked behind you both, their shoulders hunched, their conversation a hushed whisper. Six docks altogether led into one hexagon platform, that at one point, must have held a fair much like the one you attended in the early summer.
From the other stretch of docking came five others. Their silhouettes were fuzzy, black against the night sky. Carol held herself with a confidence that rivaled Natasha’s. You could make out Monica amongst the crowd, a man that you’d seen around town that you were sure went by the name Fury; particular to his deeply embedded rage.
A circle of wood in the center of the land stood between the two groups like a buffer. Hands were on guns, puffs of air streaming into the lone portlights drilled into soft wood. The scent of the sea itself seemed to assuage you into flexing your fingers, the salt in the air made everything feel filmy and frigid.
It was Carol who spoke first. Her voice was carried by the wind. “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to call a meeting like this.”
“You violate my trust as if it’s nothing Miss Danvers. It’s clear you wanted to invoke something other than a slap on the wrist.”
“Well, there’s been talk around town that you’ve become smitten with your little pet project. Forgive me for wanting to test the theory myself. If the big bad Romanoff sisters are going soft, don’t you think I should know about it?”
Yelena shifted behind you and in turn, so did Monica. No one reached for their weapon, though you itched from the inside out. Natasha even lift an eyebrow at the statement.
“You wanted to discuss the Maroni property. I’m willing to sell, but only with the proper conditions.”
Clint had sat you down a few weeks after your first excursion. The two of you sat at the end of the very diner that you had quit. You never really tried the food but could stomach the fries- even admit to yourself that they were the best in town for their price point. The Maroni property was nothing more than a vacant lot, but it held more than that. It would make Carol the owner of 60% of the town instead of the meager 50% that split everything equally.
If there was any objection to her offer, no one would show it. Peace of mind would not be worth giving up her hold, but you were. Yelena could kick her frustrations out at home later, Clint and Kate were none the wiser to do anything but trust blindly; and you were right there with them.
“And what conditions are those?”
“The same conditions our parents have abided by all these years. There’s an honor in what we do and what we control and when you start crossing lines like the ones you did last night, you pour gasoline on an already raging fire.”
Carol tasked and took a step forward. This time the handle of your gun was in your palm. You held your stance. “So poetic, Natasha. You have been since grade school. I’ll take the land, but you’re mistaken if you think I’ll pay full price.”
Natasha clenched her jaw, her eyes darting to the rolling darkness of the sea. The waves were crashing violently against the wooden support beams. There were whitecaps miles from the shore and a storm was brewing that you could almost taste.
“Seventy-five. I won’t go any lower.”
“Alright, Seventy-five.”
Carol stuck her hand out over the circular center of the docks. It was a show of good faith, but your palm grew slick with sweat. You watched her with more care than you ever have before. Clint was rigid with tension, and you could practically hear Kate breathe nervously behind you.
Eventually, Natasha took the woman’s hand. She held it for a moment before leaning closer, whispering something that you couldn’t’ hear over the screeching of the waves. You could, however, see Carols face shaded by the port lights. The golden yellow color enveloped the stark coldness in her stare, the anger that flashed behind hazel irises.
When the gunshot sounded, Natasha’s back was to Carol and those who flanked her sides. It was such a quiet and muted sound that made your ears ring, but it was also a familiar sound. One that flashed back to that snowy night in Minnesota, the spray of pulpy blood on the startlingly white snow.
When Andrew had pulled the trigger, he looked Sheriff Deputy Edwards in the eyes and you had always wondered if the fear cut through the haze of alcohol that night. The split second where the bullet left the chamber, was there penance to be made? He’d dropped to his knees and let out a choking sound that you heard through the paned glass windows.        
There wasn’t a wall of insulation, and wood, and glass to garble the sound of the gunshot that rang out tonight. The waves seemed to swallow up your own scream and the commotion that stretched into being.
Carol had waited until Natasha broke the handshake and turned away before she fired her weapon. Something so strong and ever-present was dropped to the sun-bleached wood in a matter of moments. Natasha didn’t make a sound.
“Get down!” Clint yelled next to you.
You caught the anger in Monica’s stare, the way that Carol had moved her target from Natasha, directly to you. At this specific point, with Natasha crumpled at your feet and the woman who had pulled the trigger sneering at you, was when something snapped within you.
A good shot, you had always been a good shot. Not only that, but you’d been efficient too. Clint had given up trying to drag you away and instead made quick work of those that were backing Carol. Kate and Yelena were gone; in the throws of darkness, into hand to hand combat. It left you alone with the woman that made everyone cower in fear.
Natasha’s blood had sopped onto your shoes. Tears threatened to well up in your eyes. She wasn’t breathing. You couldn’t tell if she was breathing. She had curled into herself and hidden her face from you and while you wanted to pull her into your arms at this very moment; that wasn’t possible.
An ongoing war was raging around you. Gunfire and screaming, and oddly enough, the pungent scent of fire. Carol watched, confident in her protection. She smiled at you, a wolfish and inhuman grin.
“Now, you can’t tell me this hasn’t changed your perspective.” She said, sweeping her arms out as if this were her kingdom- as if this chaos, this reign of gunfire and screams amongst the people you loved, was what she wanted all along.
“It has,” you raised your gun, pointing it directly to her chest. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. “I just watched you shoot a woman in the back. What’s noble about that?”
She cackled “Noble? That’s the problem with you Romanoff’s, there is nothing noble about this business. To win, you have to play dirty. To win you can’t be afraid to take what you want, and I can’t exactly do that through handshakes and good will. Can I?”
“I suppose not, but how are they supposed to trust you, hm? All of those you’ve promised the world to, the ones fighting for your wellbeing as we speak?”
“I would never betray them.”
“Oh, now, I don’t believe that.”
She frowned at you and readjusted her hold on her gun. In any other world, she would have fired her gun by now, but there was something deep within Carol that had been curious about you. About how Natasha seemed to soften around your presence. Still, she didn’t understand, but she wanted it all the same.
Her finger adjusted on the trigger. You watched every movement she made. There was another, calmer, war in her mind. She could kill you right here if she wanted to, but you couldn’t tell if she did or not.
Natasha let out a wounded noise at your feet; a wet choking sound as she struggled to pull air into her lungs. Carol lifted both eyebrows and glanced down at her. “You can save her or kill me. I don’t think you’re quick enough to do both.”
Kate let out a guttural scream from further down the dock that was followed by two more blows and flashes from a gun. Most of Carols lackeys had been incapacitated in one way or another. You clocked Clint’s trembling form as he kneeled between two dark masses. You couldn’t see Yelena, couldn’t’ even hear her, but she leaned into her silence, her rage.
By the time your eyes had met with Carol’s once more, she had made her choice. She pressed further down on the trigger, and in your blind edge of confidence you fired first. Both bullets were aimed at her stomach, and both hit their mark before her single shot found it’s way to your shoulder.
The pain shot through your arm, down the numbness of your fingers. A deep sound escaped the back of your throat. The force of the blast nearly brought you to your knees. Nearly. You’d felt the heat of the bullet rip through the gore of your shoulder- enter and exit in a clean way that would hiss in pain later, but it was no match for the adrenaline.
Carol let out a groan, one that bubbled with pain. You kicked her weapon away from her, letting it slide against the wooden dock. She blinked up at you dumbly, her hands pressing against the slowly growing crimson spot in the center of her stomach.
The color dripped from the wound on your shoulder, over the silver of the casing. A singular drop of red succumbed to the pull of gravity and landed against the smooth expanse of Carol’s collarbone. When she grinned, her teeth were stained with rust.
“Tell me, Carol, what do you see?” You pulled back the hammer, ignoring her sloppy chuckles and the frothy blood that foamed past her lips. “A broken waitress, or a trained killer?”
“Now you’re getting it…” she swallowed thickly, trying to quell the pain “It’s all about perspective.”
You pulled the trigger for a third, and final time that night. You were so trusting in your aim that you refused to look when you administered the final blow. Her head dropped to the side, the bullet finding it’s way right between her eyes.
Silence seemed to fall over the docks. You could hear the crashing of the waves and the seagulls that circled above at the scent of shed blood. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and the gun you wielded was dropped to the dock.
She’d been killed so easily. This big, hulking demon that loomed over the town, and over your life. It took nothing but a rage-filled trigger pull to end it all. Your heart was in your throat, blood rushing past your ears.
And then there was Natasha.
Natasha had shifted onto her back, her hand outstretched in your direction. You could hear the painful wheeze in each breath. Her skin was pale, a bloom of red at the corner of her lip. You wanted to kiss it away, to pull her as close as possible, but you were afraid to move her.
Your knees dug into the coarse wood, your palm finding purchase on her cheek. “Nat, baby, I need you to stay awake, okay?”
“The stars, you can see them so well out here.”
You frowned, glancing up at the velvety blue sky. The constellations were bright, making little pictures of lions, and archers, and long stretches of water. It was hard to see them with the perpetual glow of the city. But out here, just like the mansion, they made a map.
“Yeah, baby, you can.” You reached blindly for her hand. It was cold. “You can’t go to sleep. Just keep looking at the stars, for me. Clint! Lena!”
Your voice broke on the second call. Your face was damp with tears as you kept track of Natasha’s stunted breathing, and the tight grip she still held you with. She refused to let you go, and you did the same, pressing the warmth of your lips to her white knuckles.
Yelena was by your side. She was pale and shaking herself. There was a gash above her eye, dripping blood and drying against her cheek. There was a split in her lip, a forming bruise under her chin and against the length of her neck.
“ne ostavlyay menya, sestra. Ty sil'neye etogo. Drat'sya.”
“Should we call an ambulance?”
“No, no hospital.” Yelena shook her head “we do this on our own, just like we always have.”
Your fingers were caked in blood, a dried brown color that was ugly against the beauty of your shared bedroom with Natasha. You wanted to scrub them clean, watch as the water was tinted a toxic orange before it circled the drain, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.
A glass of water was set on the small table next to you, and you fought back the urge to startle. You hadn’t heard anyone enter. There was a familiar spiced scent to Darcy that you picked up on before registering her presence. She nudged the glass closer to you and lowered herself into the other chair.
“You should really let Yelena look at that shoulder.” She said.
“It’s fine.”
You picked up the glass and considered swallowing down some of the room temperature water, but thought better of it. You held onto it because you could. It grounded you, the cloudy glass stained with coppery fingerprints.
“The news… they’re saying that a wealthy businesswoman snapped. Allegedly, she lured her employees down to the docks and killed them all before turning the gun on herself.”
“Tragic.” This time you did take a swallow of the water before setting it on the table.
Darcy watched you carefully. She wasn’t being judgmental, or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. Her eyes were still darkened with exhaustion but filled with a deep kind of worry. She hesitated, moving to put her hand on your knee, but thinking better of it.
Instead, she directed her attention to Natasha’s unconscious form on the bed. Yelena had called in a private doctor, stubborn in her efforts. He worked mostly alone, and had hushed conversation with those in the room that could comprehend better than you could in your fuzzy state.
Kate had attempted to patch you up, but you pulled away with enough intensity for her to focus on licking her own wounds. Natasha was stable, she was alive. They weren’t sure if she would make it through the night- but you’d remain by her side until they were sure.
“I can’t lose her,”
The admission was whispered and shattered. You didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility of Natasha not pulling through. She was the first person you’d met in years that not only accepted you, but pushed you to be a better version of yourself. She had a softness for Ronnie, a commanding nature to her presence.
 Darcy cracked a small smile, “leave it to you to fall in love with a loan shark that has a pension for bullets. Something tells me that’s she’s more stubborn than even you. And if that’s the case, then she’ll make it.”
You reached out and grasped Darcy’s hand, allowing her to ground you. Pain ripped through your shoulder, the bandage that you had allowed Kate to apply was dotted with the wounds efforts to gush. Still, you squeezed as hard as you could manage, listening to the heart monitor that hummed in time with the grandfather clock in the corner.
She stayed with you while you fought to stave off sleep. At one point, Clint came in with a tray of food that lay mostly untouched on the dresser. Your eyes burned as you stared at the simple rise and fall of her chest, both feet planted on the floor.
Sixteen hours had passed. You’d paced the room, and at one point, finally allowed someone to address your wounds. It throbbed in time with your heart, which in-turn, mirrored Natasha’s. It was hour twenty when you saw any sign of life, and you nearly missed it, the fluttering of her eyes as they adjusted to the sun streaming into the room.
You’d rolled your head back, trying to quell the stiffness of your neck, the hushed growl escaped your lips. “Oh… fuck.”
“That’s a beautiful sound.”
To hell with your aching body. Natasha’s voice was so meek that you’d nearly missed it altogether. You were treated with a startling blast of green color. She stared at you inquisitively, trying to prop herself up on her elbows. You were quicker than her in this state, using your palm against her chest to gently force her back onto the mattress.
“Don’t try to move,”
“I don’t do well with orders, y/n.”
“God damn it, I know.”
She gave you a small smile at this, but allowed you to coax her back into a laying position. She let out a protest of pain as you placed your ear flush against her chest, assuring that this was real, that her heart was beating strong and consistently. And it was, it really was.
Natasha chuckled, and worked her hand through your hair. “It’s okay, Zaychik. I’m alright.”
“Nat, you were shot in the back twice. It’s going to be a long road to recovery. You’re lucky that it didn’t shatter your spine, hell you could have lost the ability to walk altogether-“
She cut you off, grabbing your chin and leading your lips to hers. She tasted of blood, of the slightest bit of antiseptic and artificial cherries. She tasted like home. You fretted to pull away, knowing that she had kissed you to ultimately shut you up, but really, did that matter?
Natasha frowned into the kiss and pulled away, her fingers had found the bandage on your shoulder, running across the cross section where your skin met gauze. “You’re hurt. She hurt you.”
“She got a good shot in but had terrible aim. Nothing but a flesh wound.”
“Flesh wounds can be dangerous, Malysh.”
“Mm, so they can.” A few moments passed, your forehead pressed against hers, happy to be in her presence. “What did you say to Carol… right before she…”
Natasha let out a deep sigh and winced at the exhalation. She laid her head on the pillow and glowered at the painted ceiling above you both. You remembered staring up at it after Natasha had exhausted you on more than one occasion. Right now, she was trying to find the words, just like you had tried so desperately to find your solace.
“I threatened her family the way she threatened mine. I thought better of her, I suppose, than to shoot a woman in the back. Though, I would have done the same with the threats I laid out. I just needed to be sure that she wouldn’t… couldn’t hurt you… Ronnie.”
“You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”
“Maybe not the Danvers family, but there are more just lurking in the shadows waiting for their chance to swoop in. They’re scared now, I’m sure. But fear only goes so far.”
“I’m in this for the long haul, if you’ll have me, of course.” You tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, careful of her wounds. “I don’t care if it’s the Russo’s, or the Sarkissian’s, or any other psycho family that tries to take your power away from you. They’ll have to go through me.”
Natasha chuckled, “Alright, quickdraw, don’t get too cocky. We’ll lay low for a little bit. Heal. Then we can talk about the future.”
Somehow, that was enough for you. Natasha waking up, speaking and smiling, and laughing would always be enough for you.
“Drop the gun,” Kate’s voice was shaking, her hands outstretching in front of her in the ultimate sign of surrender. She looked vulnerable, the sun beating down on her shoulders and her stormy eyes catching the reflection of the water. “I’m unarmed, this isn’t cool, man.”
Her protests didn’t’ seem to matter one bit. Cooper pumped the front end of his gun and aimed the ice cold water directly at Kate’s stomach. His action was a silent call to the brigade of children that ascended on her; some carrying water guns like Coop, and others nailing her with neon colored balloons.
“Ah, the inhumanity!” She fell to the grass, scooping Ronnie up in the process. “Shield me, kid!”
You watched the girl with fondness, fighting back until the end. Clint chuckled behind you, flipping the burgers that had browned evenly on one side. The scent was intoxicating, and though you wouldn’t’ admit your hunger outright; your mouth was watering.
Yelena had ascended on the situation, taking a super soaker and dousing the clan that was attacking, and winning, Kate. She tucked Ronnie under her arm like a football and started to dash away towards the fence, out of earshot.
Clint’s wife, Laura, was pouring a glass of lemonade for Darcy. The two of them watched the scene from poolside chairs with as much amusement as you carried. They spoke with smiles on their faces, cheeks flushed from the heat of the day.
Warm arms wrapped around your midsection, a chin resting on your shoulder. The scent of sunscreen filled your lungs. You had always felt innate safety in Natasha’s embrace. She kissed behind your ear once, and then the side of your neck.
“She’s good with them.” Natasha purred.
“I think it’s because she’s a kid at heart.”
“And you let her protect your assets?” Clint tsked as he loaded the burgers onto a nearby plate. “Seriously, without Yelena training her I never would have taken the safety off her gun.”
“I can hear you!” Kate called back, shifting Ronnie to her other hip. “They are being so rude. I’m more than capable of being a degenerate.”
“Degenerate,” Yelena scoffed “Kate Bishop, you’ve invented the word.”
You shook your head, turning in Natasha’s arms before you draped your own over her shoulders. She wore that same black bikini that she had on when she proclaimed your new rank in her little empire. It seemed so long ago- and she was certainly marred with new markings to prove this. Your fingers tracing gently over the healed scars on her stomach.
You leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers, “Thank you for this.”
“Mm,” She hummed into the embrace “For what, detka?”
You deepened the embrace, whispering against her “resolution.”  
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trashywormeateroffics · 4 months
Text
the great war (bucky barnes x female reader)
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the gif is not mine!
summary: you get jealous and have a fight with bucky. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.
a/n: hey anon!!! sorry it took so long. i have no excuse. anyways, i hope you enjoy this!!! <333 also i am once again asking u to send me requests with marvel characters (natasha/bucky/loki) and taylor swift songs so i can write a one shot about it !!!! bye love u
masterlist
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you don't know how it all happened. one second, everything was perfect. the next, you were acting like a crazy person and saying horrible and hurtful things. and now you're pretty sure you've officially lost him forever.
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it all started with her. agent carpenter. pretty, blue eyed blonde, flirty, perfect agent carpenter.
“alright everyone,” tony begins and the people in the meeting fall into silence. “as you all know, a new member is joining us on the avengers initiative.” they all nod, including you. “her name is samara carpenter and she was personally recruited by fury. which means she's very good at what she does.” the billionaire looks at steve and he nods, taking the lead.
“alright, i want you all to be nice and welcoming. especially you buck.” he says, making most of the people there snort. you look at him.
“what did i do now?” bucky asks, incredulous.
“nothing yet, but if you just stare at her and don't greet her like a normal person she'll leave this team as fast as she came.” sam tells him. the grumpy super soldier rolls his eyes.
“whatever, bird-brain.”
steve shakes his head in disapproval of the two bickering idiots but soon enough he's back on track with the presentation.
bucky's rough gaze scans the room until it falls on you. his eyes soften when he sees that you are already looking at him. you give him a soft and playful smile, which he returns.
after the meeting is done and everyone is dismissed, you head to your room.
not five seconds pass until someone knocks on the door. you smile, because you know who it is.
“come in!” you sing-song.
when he enters, you can't help but stare at him. you've been together for a year now but you still couldn't believe that he was yours. he was so beautiful, so funny, so kind, so dumb sometimes, just so… him. you loved him so much. yet you still hadn't said it. you were trying to take things slow, for both of your sakes.
“hey.” you tell him as he closes the door behind him. he has a look on his face which you recognize. something's bothering him.
“c'mere.” you pat the spot next to you on the bed.
he wastes no time in dropping himself unceremoniously on the mattress and letting out a sigh.
you begin to run your hands through his hair.
“d'you think i'm scary?” he asks with a pout adorning his beautiful pink lips. god, you want to kiss him so badly. so that's what you do. you peck his lips and then immediately shake your head with a smile.
“do you think that adorable pout could be scary?” he purses his lips to stop himself from smiling, but still, a small smile plays on his lips.
“y/n, i'm being serious.” he sighs. you do too.
“maybe to some people you could be. not to me though.”
“but when you first met me-”
“i was too busy thinking about how hot you were to worry about you being scary.” he laughs. god, how you love that sound. you would ridicule yourself to hear it. “is this about what steve and sam said?”
he shrugs.
“i just… hate that i'm so socially inadequate.”
you hand in his hair stops. he furrows his brows.
“bucky,” you begin, “we are a bunch of weirdos, all of us. there is not one person on this team who is socially adequate.”
“but at least the others can fake it, you can fake it.”
“you know what my favorite thing about you was when we first started to become friends?” you ask and he shakes his head. “that your face said it all. if you weren't in the mood for something, i could tell from a mile away, and in return, if something excited you, it would be contagious.” you caress his cheek and he leans into your touch. “and when i couldn't pretend, i always knew you were there to just sit in silence with me. no expectations to be socially acceptable.”
“i don't know how you do it.” he sighs. you frown.
“do what?”
“make every bad thing about me sound so… good.”
your frown deepens.
“hey.” you straddle him and grab his face in between both your hands. “you are perfect. just like you are. don't you dare change yourself.” you tell him firmly. then you purse your lips. “unless you totally want to for whatever reason and i would totally support you because-” you suddenly fall silent. he looks at you, expectant for you to finish your sentence. “because you know i'm here for you, no matter what.”
he smiles softly.
“i know, doll. me too, i'm always here for you no matter what.” you purse your lips to stop yourself from spilling your heart out of your mouth as you caress his cheekbone with your thumb.
“how about we watch a movie? you can pick.”
he pecks your lips and nods.
you spend what is left of the day watching movies and cuddling.
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two days after that meeting, she arrives. you're all hanging around the common kitchen when steve appears with someone trailing behind him.
“everyone, this is agent carpenter.”
“please, call me samara. or sammie even.”
“sammie, nice to meet you.” sam is the first one to greet her. “i'm sam wilson, but the coolest avenger is fine too.”
you shake your head and roll your eyes. then, you take a step forward, but before you can introduce yourself and welcome her to the team, you see her eyes flicking over to something right next to you. or someone. her eyes shine with curiosity and attraction.
“hi, nice to meet you.” she smirks. you swallow slowly.
bucky gives her a nod, but then he seems to remember what steve and sam told him and attempts to give her a smile.
“hi, i'm bucky.”
“bucky,” she repeats slowly, almost tasting the name in her mouth. she's about to say something else but before she can, you speak up.
“i'm y/n. welcome to the team.” you smile as honestly as you possibly can, but dread fills your stomach.
“hi!” she smiles at you. “you're so pretty, oh my god!”
you give her a tight smile.
“thank you.”
“of course!”
the rest of the team introduces themselves, even though she insists she already knows almost all of them and then you all go about your day.
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it had been a month since she arrived at the compound. you had seen her a few times, mostly during training. but you didn’t particularly go out of your way to talk to her. there was something you didn’t like. maybe it was your intuition, or maybe it was the fact that she did seem to go out of her way to talk to your boyfriend. and he did not seem upset by that, the opposite actually. he seemed to enjoy it.
you were not a jealous person, least of all with bucky. but something about her irked you. something about her made you doubt yourself and everything you believed in.
“i like her,” natasha says while she paints her nails, laying on her stomach on your bed.
wanda hums in agreement while she flips through the pages of a beauty magazine. you don’t say anything.
“what about you, y/n?”
“um, yeah.” you try to give them a convincing smile but based on the looks they give you, you do not succeed.
“okay, spill the tea.” wanda tells you. had she been learning internet lingo?
you sigh.
“i just- i don’t know.” you shake your head. “doesn’t something feel off to you?”
“not really.” wanda says as natasha narrows her eyes.
“you’re jealous.” she finally decrees.
“i’m not.” you respond defensively.
“you’re jealous that she seems to be getting along with barnes.”
“i-“ you begin your sentence with the intention of uttering a lie, but it dies right on your tongue. “i am. but i don’t want to be.” you confess.
“explain yourself.” she tells you in a tone that could sound commanding and harsh to someone else, but you know it’s filled with care. she’s your best friend, she would never hurt you on purpose. so is wanda, who looks at you with a knowing look you can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for.
“i just- i don’t know. he’s never like that with anyone. since when is he the type to joke around with someone?” you shake your head. “i’m an asshole, cause i should be happy for him. he’s putting himself out there. but i can’t. i’m jealous. so cliche.” you huff.
“you’re not an asshole. an asshole would make a whole scene, give him an ultimatum or something like that. you’re just expressing your feelings to your friends.”
“and, y/n, we all have those ugly feelings. they are human.” wanda tells you, softly. “you should talk to him about it.”
“what if he gets mad?”
“y/n, please. that man adores you, he could never get mad at you. least of all for this.”
maybe they’re right. maybe that’s the healthiest thing to do. and even as you agree with them, you know you will not talk to him about this. because he will realize that you’re right, and that there is so much more to the world than just… you.
\\\\
“come on! you just have to put it in the oven!”
you hear her before you see her. you weren’t expecting to see him though.
right there, almost as if mocking you, they stand. cooking together. he looks so comfortable around her.
they seem to be wrapped up in their own little bubble, so you clear your throat. immediately, they turn to look at you. he widens his eyes, almost looking guilty.
“james found me and i asked him to join me.” she explains, but you stop paying attention the moment she says his name. she called him james.
“james?” you narrow your eyes in question.
he seems to want to say something because he opens his mouth like a fish out of water but you leave mumbling an excuse about training with nat before he can utter a word.
back in your room, you fall to the floor and break down. you knew she was trouble the moment she walked in, but you weren’t expecting this to happen so soon.
heartbroken, you get up from where you’re sitting and head to your bathroom.
the girl in the mirror looks defeated, but you feel angry. if he didn't need you anymore, then you didn’t need him either.
\\\\
the days after that, you ignore him, always having an excuse at the tip of your tongue to not hang out with him. he doesn’t seem to care that much. until, you suppose, after three days, he begins caring.
“doll, can we talk?”
“hm?” you play dumb. you encountered each other in the common kitchen. that damned place, you hated it now, but you were hungry.
“i asked you if we can talk. you seem… distant.” his brows are furrowed. you only know that because you turned to look at him only for a second. other than that, your gaze doesn’t meet his. “come on, y/n, i know something’s wrong.”
you look at him and smile sarcastically.
“you do?”
“yes. please, let’s ta-“
“hey guys!” you roll your eyes at her voice.
“have fun you two!” you tell them, smiling venomously, only looking at him before you leave.
“is everything okay?” she asks.
“i’m sorry samara, i can’t talk right now.” you hear him say before you hear his footsteps getting closer to you in the hallway.
“y/n!” he calls out to you when you get into the elevator without looking behind you. before the doors can close, you see his metal arm get in between them. he gets in and they close. once they do, he hits the stop button. then, he turns to you. he frows when he sees the hate in your eyes. “y/n, what is going on?”
you scoff.
“fuck off, james.” you tell him, your voice full of venom. he widens his eyes in surprise before narrowing them.
“oh, so that’s it? you’re jealous and that’s why you’re avoiding me and acting crazy now?”
“i’m not jealous, but i’m not blind either.” you clench your jaw. “and don’t call me crazy.”
“you are blind if you think something’s going on with her.” he tells you. you roll your eyes and then tilt your head.
“when was the last time you let someone call you james? when was the last time you cooked with someone who was not steve?” he begins breathing heavily. you laugh and bite your lip incredulously. “i think you took the whole being friendly thing too serious.”
“i can't believe you right now.” he shakes his head. “you're angry because i'm not being an asshole to her?”
you scoff.
“oh, please, james.” he clenches his jaw.
“stop calling me that.”
“oh, so i can't call you that but she can?”
“you know that's not-”
“you know what? go ahead. let her call you james. fuck her in the middle of the common room for all i care. lets see how long she puts up with you.” you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth but its too late, a deep hurt covers his face. still, you can't stop. you're too hurt, too scared. too goddamn stupid. “you think she's going to console you while you have your nightmares?” you laugh venomously. “you think she's going to accept you, all of you?” as you keep talking, his expression turns from pained to angry. resentful even.
he turns to the panel control of the elevator and pushes the stop button so the elevator will move again.
“you know what?” he glances at you and you're almost taken aback by the distant look in his eyes. “maybe i'll fuck her. maybe i'll even date her too. she's probably not as desperate and clingy as you.”
“fuck you.” you spit out.
the doors open, he steps outside. before he leaves, he turns to look at you.
“yeah, you too.”
after the doors close again, you fall to the floor and let out a heart-wrenching sob. you never thought it would end like this.
\\\\
four days. four fucking, horrible, long days bucky has been gone from the compound. you try to ask steve about it, because you know he knows where he is, but he won't tell you. even though you two are close friends and he never got in the middle of a fight between you two– even though you two never fought– he seemed angry. at you. you didn't know if he knew the reason for the fight, but he knew you were in the wrong, that much you knew.
these days all you do is cry, sleep, eat and repeat. you're way past heartbroken, you're miserable, inconsolable. it's all your fault. this prison of sadness was your own making.
you miss him. god, you miss him. you wonder how he is. did he already fuck someone else? did he regret ever being with you?
you don't dare text or call him. you're too embarrassed. you acted like a crazy person, and said awful, horrific things. and you're pretty sure he'll never forgive you. but what will you do then? how will you build a life without him? oh god, you're crying again. great, just great, you think as you turn around in your bed. who were you without him?
\\\\
its the sixth day of his absence when you go talk to steve. you drag yourself from your bed, with your swollen and red rimmed eyes and knock on his door.
“y/n…” he tells you, pity dripping from his tone.
“hey…” you try to give him a fake smile, but as soon as the corners of your mouth move, they turn downwards into a frown, and you start crying. sobbing really. inconsolable sobs leave you as steve wraps you up in his arms.
“hey, hey, it's okay.”
“no, it's not! i hurt him! i don't know why i did it, but i did!” you sob.
“hey,” he pulls away from you a bit to look you in the eyes, “come in. come on, come on.” he tells you as you slowly make your way inside.
you sit down on the edge of his bed and he sits down next to you.
“steve, is he- is he okay?”
he looks at you. you know him, so you know that that look means he isn't.
“he's safe though.”
“i really messed up.”
“i know.”
“he told you?”
“he didn't need to. i saw it on camera. wanted to know why the elevator stopped working for a while.”
you put your head in your hands and begin sobbing again.
“oh my god.” you sob. “i-i'm so sorry you had to see that. i dont… i dont know what-” a hiccup escapes you. “i can't-” another hiccup. “oh god…” your shoulders shake as you sob into your hands.
“hey…” he draws comforting circles on your back, but nothing can comfort you. not when he's hurt and hates you and it's all your fault. “hey.”
“steve, how can i fix it? can i even-” hiccup, “can i even fix it?”
he looks at you with pity.
“i don't know, y/n. i think he's gonna need some time.”
“oh my god.” you say. steve had always rooted for you two, so if he's saying it can't be fixed it really means it can't. “i'm going to die.”
“you're not going to die.”
“i can't live without him. i can't.” you shake your head frantically. “please, just tell me where he is. i need to-”
“i dont think it's a good idea.” he tells you sympathetically.
“please,” you beg him, “please, i need to- if it ends…” more tears fall from your eyes. “it can't end like that. please. he deserves more than that.”
he looks at you, seemingly pondering what you're saying. you look at him the whole time, pleading. he sighs. he's going to tell you.
\\\\
you look at the old building that seems to be deteriorating with each passing second. you straighten down your clothes (steve insisted you get properly showered and dressed) and take a deep breath. he's staying at a safe house in brooklyn. of course. it was so predictable and so him, you almost decided to leave. maybe you should let it end how it ended. what if this time it was worse? but you didn't have the luxury to think like that. it was over, but you needed him to remember you as the good times you shared, not that damned last time.
you enter the building and go up the stairs to the seventh floor, since there is no elevator.
when you reach his door, a green one who looked like if you blew on it it would fall down, you freeze. what are you even supposed to say to him? hi, bucky, sorry i told you she wouldn't be able to put up with you, insinuating that you are hard to love, hope everythings okay between us! ugh, you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.
you take another deep, slow breath, because you know otherwise he'll be able to hear you. then, you knock two times.
when the door opens he takes your breath away. this time not because he's gorgeous but because you're so scared that you fear you're going to pass out.
“what do you want?” he asks harshly. you feel tears prick your eyes but you blink them away.
“hear me out, please.”
“no, thank you.” he goes to close the door, but you swiftly get inside before he does. he slams the door behind him when he turns around to look at you, now inside the apartment, looking uncomfortable and out of place. “i told you i didn't want to hear you out.”
“just-”
“leave.”
“one second-”
“leave, y/n.”
“bucky-”
“oh, so now i'm bucky?” your lip wobbles.
“you're always bucky.”
“not last time we talked.”
“that's why i'm here.” he lifts his chin, looking at you with so much indifference you wonder if he ever looked at you with love in his eyes.
“i don't care to hear you explain yourself.” a tear escapes your eye. you dry it with your sleeve harshly. his face seems to soften for a second but then it goes back to its harshness.
“i'm not here- i'm not here to explain myself.” he looks at you.
“why are you here then?” you sigh.
“remember that time you took me to feed the ducks on that park?”
“yes. so?”
you smile softly as tears fall down your face.
“that was the time i told you i wanted to be your girlfriend. no one ever took me to such a silly date.” you chuckle softly. then you frown in pain looking at the floor now. he shifts his weight from one feet to the other, impatient.
“what's your point?”
“that's how i'd like you to remember me.”
“what?” you look at him. he's frowning.
“i know that the last time we talked i was… crazy. i just- i know theres no going back, but id like, for the sake of what we had, for you to not remember me like that.” you tell him. “because we were more than that.” the last word comes out broken to give way to a silent sob. you try to compose yourself. “I'm sorry. don't pay attention to that.” you give him a fake smile, which you know he can see right through.
“y/n-”
“okay, i'll leave. but… come back to the compound. i'll move out if you want me to, just, don't stay away from your friends just because of me.” you go to leave, walking past him, when he grabs your arm. when you turn around there are unshed tears in his eyes.
“i don't care about the compound. or about remembering you.” oh. you widen your eyes and heavy tears leave them.
“okay, i'm- i'm sorry for suggesting-”
“no.” you nod, understanding. “no, no.” he repeats. he grabs you by the shoulders and he crouches so he's eye level with you. “i don't want to have to remember you.”
you frown.
“but, bucky-”
“but i probably should.” he cuts you off.
“yeah,” you laugh humorlessly as you cry. “you should. i'm sorry. i never should've come here. i'm sorry.”
“stop saying sorry and explain to me what the hell happened.” you tilt your head.
“i… i got jealous.”
“that's it? that's why you hurt me?” he asks. you look down. this was it. he was giving you a chance. explain yourself like you never have before, you think to yourself.
“i never got why you were with me-”
“stop saying were. this could end today, but as of now, were still together.” you purse your lips. “hey, hey, its okay.” he says softly as he puts his hands on your cheeks and wipes the tears that begin falling again with his thumbs.
“im sorry-” he looks at you pointedly. you nod. “i just… i don't understand why you're with me. im not- im nothing like you.” you begin. he frowns. “you are kind and thoughtful and amazing and im- im not good like you.”
“what? y/n, you're the best person i know.”
“you can't still think that.” he looks at you honestly. he does? “see? you're so- and i'm so…”
“lets sit down.” he tells you and you both do, on the old couch thats near the window. he gestures for you to continue.
“i just- you'll never get it. and thank god you won't. but im not- im not a natural, you know? not like you, not like her.” you fidget with your hands. “you guys, the team, you like me because i'm fake. you wouldn't if you knew the real me. but i showed it to you pretty easily, i guess.” you laugh without a trace of humor. he frowns. then, he grabs your hand and caresses your knuckles. bucky takes a deep breath before speaking.
“y/n, i like- no, scratch that. i love you because i know you.” your face contorts in pain. you start crying heavily again. “hey, hey, come on baby, talk to me.”
“i just… she's so… perfect. for everyone, for you.”
“i don't want her, i want you.”
“you cant want me after what i said to you. i hurt you and i'll never forgive myself for that.”
“yes, you hurt me. but you were hurt too, i just didn't see it.”
“im so scared you'll wake up one day and realize there is so much more to the world than… me.” you sob and cover your face with your hands.
bucky pulls your hands away from you face and pulls you into his lap.
“listen to me.” he tells you firmly. “there is nothing more to the world than you. you are it for me, y/n. i love you.”
“bucky-” you hiccup. “i'm so sorry i said that about you. i promise you i just said it to you because i- i was lashing out. anyone would accept and love you, you are literally the most amazing-” hiccup, “person-” hiccup, “in the universe.”
he smiles softly at you and the unshed tears come back, but this time, he lets them fall.
“baby, listen to me. i love you. i'm not going anywhere.” you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it. “and i forgive you. i promise you i don't resent you. i know what it's like to lash out when you're hurt.”
“bucky-” you sob against his chest.
“shh, baby, its okay.” he soothes you, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “it's okay, i got you.”
you take a shuddering breath and lift your head from his chest to look at him. you grab his face with both your hands.
“i promise you i'll never lash out again. im so sorry. i-” he gives you a pointed look. “i know. im not saying sorry anymore. sor-” you purse you lips and he lets out a laugh. then, he shakes his head incredulous and looks at you with so much adoration in his eyes you feel like you're going to pass out from all the love you feel for this man. “can i kiss you?” you ask him shyly.
“please.”
and so you do. the kiss is soft, vulnerable, you're telling him how sorry you are, how much you love him, and thats when you remember you didn't say it.
he whines when you pull away, something that makes you smile.
“bucky,”
“yeah, baby?”
“i love you. so much i feel like i'm going to throw up.” he lets out a loud laugh.
“i love you more, doll.”
you spend the rest of the day cuddled up on that couch in that old apartment, not ready to go to the compound yet. but you do send a text to steve before turning off your phone to spend time with the love of your life. you almost lost him, but you didn't, and as you lay in that old mattress on the floor, while he makes love to you and whispers of words of adoration and devotion fill your ears, you vow to him one thing. you'll always be his.
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mylight-png · 3 months
Text
I refuse to be told to "move on" from October 7th. I simply refuse.
You know the thing about trauma? You don't really get the choice to move on. You may be living in the future, but at least a part of your mind is trapped in that horrible moment. Sometimes that part of you can never escape.
Right now, as I'm writing this, I am sitting at my desk in my room. But right now, as I am writing this a part, huge part, of me is still in that airport. That part of me is still staring at my phone, trying to catch its breath but failing. That part of me is still watching in shock as the death count rises, the videos of Hamas's atrocities are broadcasted everywhere I see, the celebration of my people being massacred is burning my eyes. My ears are hearing the wailing sirens from when I was last in Israel. My hands are still feeling the shaking of the walls as the Iron Dome intercepts attempts upon the lives of my family and me. My heart is hurting for each life lost and each family left broken.
My body is here, in January 10th. My mind is not. My mind, and the mind of nearly every Jew is still stuck in October 7th.
Do not think we chose this. If I could choose indifference, if I could choose apathy, if I could choose ignorance, I wouldn't feel so constantly triggered and in pain.
But nobody gets to choose trauma.
This wasn't a unique trauma, a first-time event. Pogroms are nothing new to us, genocides and attempts at such against us aren't anything new, hateful libel and lies are near-constants.
That's part of what made October 7th so much worse.
I grew up hearing about how my great-grandfather lost his entire family to the Holocaust, how my ancestors survived pogroms, how my parents faced systemic antisemitism in the USSR.
We all grew up hearing our parents and grandparents tell us about antisemitism.
And do not think we were ignorant of it. I was well aware that the world is not even close to shedding its deeply ingrained antisemitism.
I was aware of it when I wrote a speech about discussion of modern antisemitism and being told it was "well-written but controversial". I was aware of it when my teacher said I was responding "emotionally, not academically" to an author claiming antisemitism and the Holocaust weren't "that bad".
I was aware of it when a synagogue near me got shot up, a synagogue I've been to. I was aware of it because I had no other choice.
But it had always felt like it was "winding down" from what my parents had told me. Yes what my teacher did was bad but at least he didn't explicitly single me out for being a Jew and intentionally fail me. Yes the feedback for my speech was hurtful but it wasn't like I was being violently censored. Yes the shooting was awful but it wasn't a full-blown pogrom.
I'm not saying my logic was correct. Far from it. But that's how it felt before October 7th.
When October 7th happened I saw that nothing was "winding down" as I had previously thought. People were still just as keen to gleefully cheer on the killing of Jews as they had been. The world is just as slow to act when Jews are being forcibly held and tortured and killed. Blood libel and ideas of the "doctor's plot" are alive and well.
Oct 7th triggered old trauma, Oct 7th was traumatic in its own right, and for most of us, Oct 7th proved that antisemitism isn't going anywhere. It isn't winding down or getting better.
And that kind of pain? That kind of trauma? That sticks with you.
You wouldn't tell any other person to get over their trauma. So what makes it ok to say it to traumatized Jews as we are still processing the largest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust?
That behavior is horrible and inexcusable.
Trauma is trauma, you don't get to decide who does or doesn't have the right to be traumatized. You don't get to decide how people discuss their trauma.
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