My thoughts about goodomensverse (I'm clinically insane) (my personal opinion) (long post)
Book Crowley:
- absolute disaster
- lonely boy
- grumpiest
- he's so in love with Aziraphale but didn't even realised yet
- a bit dumb sometimes ngl
- very tired
- he's trying so hard save earth and everything he knows but everytime he tries to explain why it's always AZIRAPHALE
- sometimes he's like... your old gay uncle, the old gay uncle of the family except it's a 6000 years old gender fluid demon
- HISS LIKE A SNAKE GANG
- got called dear once and them died (figuratively)
Radio Crowley:
- flirty
- "Humm have you ever seen me in a dress~~??"
- he's like flirting with Aziraphale 24/7
- 0 patience this man is a BOMB
- if Aziraphale ever EVER got slightly flirty with him back he will EXPLODE
- smartest of them all, he's very intelligent
- HISS LIKE A SSSSSNAKE GANG
- he's so in love with Aziraphale and it makes him SO FRUSTRATED
- his Aziraphale is the hardest one to reach, maybe this is why he's so deliberately obvious and direct with him (he's resilient, he will never give up)
- he's like a tsudere teenager collegial except he's a 6000 years old demon with serious issues
- not called dear yet poor soul </3
TV Crowley:
- SILLY
- he's the dumbest of them all, sorry 😭
- red hair
- he's so in love with Aziraphale and everyone notice it's SO OBVIOUS
- he's the most affected by The Bookshop Burning ™ event
- the only one who got to kiss the angel, good for him ig, or sorry, idk
- anxiety bomb he literally (literally) EXPLODE
- strongest soldier bc his Aziraphale is IMPOSSIBLE
- got dumped 2 times more than the others someone pls help him
- the most brave tho
- doesn't hiss a lot :/ free him from this madness let him hiss
- he's like a puppy with giant yellow eyes except it's a 6000 years old snake demon that lies all the time
- protective as hell this man wouldn't let anyone near Aziraphale if possible
- got called dear but at what cost??????????????
Book Aziraphale:
- Anxious all the time, religious trauma except the god is your father and he left you and never talk to you again and the guard angels are your siblings and they want you do be dead
- He's so soft he wants so bad to comfort Crowley but he's really hard to reach
- his Crowley is the most difficult of all of them, he needs to circle him a lot to get in touch
- this man got called names so often I don't think he even cares anymore
- he's very nerdy
- he's the calmest of them all
- really chill
- everyone is so mean to him for no reason
- he has 1 braincell tbh and it's really bad bc his Crowley is not that brilliant too they're both stupid sometimes
- he really REALLY wants to be with Crowley and Crowley only, he sounds almost obligated to be with heaven
- he is really kind to others even when they don't deserve
- he called Crowley dear once and then implode
Radio Aziraphale:
- full of himself
- bastard
- the most closed and oblivious of them all
- he tries to play cool with Crowley all the time (he's slowly getting insane and someday he will jump on this man)
- he's the most self sufficient one he barely holds on Crowley to anything and they're pretty independent
- Crowley can say shit like "Miss me angel~~??" and he would keep a bored face and not react at all (he screamed with the walls 4 hours later)
- he's also a tsudere collegial but he at least try to look cool and composed in public
- he's the Aziraphale that most believes in heaven, he's sure they are good and selfless and the right side
- he's not so brilliant tbh but he got a lot of spirit
- the most active Aziraphale ?? He really put his hand in the dirt and do the things alone
- the most angry and bad tempered of them all, bro scream "WE ARE CLOSED LOOK AT THE DAMN SIGN" when ppl barely touch the bookshop door
- he has a lot of patience with Crowley, not deserved tbh bc he thinks it's his personal job to get in Aziraphale's nerves
- overall he is polite
- he's really proud of their "arrangement" there not only one chance he let go without saying that
- he likes to provoke Crowley sometimes too but not as much as the other way around
- if he ever call Crowley dear he will explode
TV Aziraphale:
- bitchiest
- this man need to be sedated what the fuck Aziraphale
- most nuts of then all he's CRAZY
- he's the most up to do shit with Crowley they're insane together
- he doesn't let Crowley rest he is flirting and being cute and hitting on Crowley all the time
- he's so obviously in love with Crowley its embarrassing
- he's the fruitiest he's the entire salad
- the most... indulgent, if I can say, of them all
- more like an employer of heaven, different of book Aziraphale
- he's the only one with almost white hair
- he got kissed but at what cost
- he's the most intelligent of all of them how can he be this dumb
- he loves little things about earth and humans and life and he seems to be the Aziraphale that most love EARTH itself, like, the life, the humans, the food, the little pleasures we have, the little time of happiness we have between all the shit that is happening... he really loves humans <3
- he's conflicted about heaven, he seems to know that there's something WRONG with how heaven works but still doesn't understand what exactly it is
- "oh but saving me makes him soooo happyyyy~~~"
- overall kind and sweet, in a excited way
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hi! do you have any percico fic recommendations? i’m sure you do but i couldn’t find them, lol
Actually I dont have any posted yet!! Here you go. Thanks for the request. Enjoy!!
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo Fic Recs
A list of fics featuring the romantic relationship between Percy Jackson and Nico di Angelo.
Dog Sled Racing by robindrake93
T | 600 words | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Puppies, Fluff, Short One Shot
Percy and Nico try to train Mrs. O'Leary's puppies.
To Give Yourself To Someone by cabin13 (friendlypeach)
T | 1.0k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Nico di Angelo & Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood
Wedding Fluff, Speeches, Married Couple
Percy laughs, watching one of his closest friends stand up, almost bringing the tablecloth with him.
“You’re being ridiculous!” Nico yells as Grover runs to the centre of the room.
Eyes alight, slightly shadowed by black curls, a smile pushing insistently at his lips even as he tries to tamp it down – Nico is glowing with happiness.
They’ve come a long way.
And there's longer to go, still. Percy grabs his husband’s hand, warmth blooming in his chest.
a well-known fact about feelings by nlieco (madin456)
G | 1.3k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Angst with a Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia
The thing about being a boy and liking another boy is: it’s not supposed to happen.
A Happy Ending by HK44
G | 1.5k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Fluff, Happy Ending, Domesticity
People make jokes that Percy would never handle domesticity. That he attracts danger like Hazel attracts cursed metals. He laughs along because they’re not wrong.
Something Bitter by sulucandles
G | 1.9k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Canon Compliant, One sided, Coming Out
Percy's not as oblivious as everyone thinks he is.
Or an examination into Nico and Percy's relationship through PJO and HoO
It's a Seal! by Takara_Phoenix
G | 1.9k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
AU - No gods, Merman Percy, Selkie Percy
Nico loves the aquarium, especially the turles and one marine biologist in particular.
My College Boyfriend by Takara_Phoenix
T | 3.0k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Good boyfriend Percy Jackson, Fluff, Age Difference
Nico is seventeen and the best damn thing that has ever happened to him is his five years older boyfriend, Percy Jackson. Now if only Nico's friends would believe him that gloomy, anti-social Nico could land a gorgeous college student...
Something always came up when Nico wanted to introduce them and at this point, Percy is known as Nico's imaginary boyfriend.
Good thing Percy is awesome and knows how to change that though.
Pass the Eggs by DancingInTheSliverGlow
G | 3.1k | Complete
Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Canon Compliant, Protective Percy Jackson, Gay disaster Nico di Angelo
“Yes.” Percy says. “You don’t have to befriend everyone in Camp Half Blood. I just want you to have somewhere you feel safe and welcome. Okay?”
A lump forms in his throat, and Nico looks away. It’s been a long time since anyone has looked out for him, the way Percy is doing now. He nods.
“Great!” Percy grins, ear to ear, and Nico thinks that it’s a bit like looking in the sun. Beautiful in small quantities, but overwhelming and blinding in too much. Percy speeds off to his room to get changed and to get his skateboards, and Nico leans back against the wall in the hallway, head in his hands. He’s so, so far in over his head.
Aka. Post BotL Nico visits Percy. They talk about how Nico's powers are perceived, and about how camp half blood treats children of the big three.
Perspective by chiiyo86
T | 6.0k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson
AU - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Outsider POV
Sally knows her son, knows that something isn't right. She just isn't sure what he could be hiding from her.
A Bat in the Hand by Takara_Phoenix
G | 8.9k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Fluff, AU - Supernatural Elements, Vet Percy
Percy is a hard-working student, on his way to become a vet, because he loves animals. And then a cute, little bat crash-lands on his balcony. Of course he has to take the little guy in and nurse him back to health.
Nico is a dangerous and powerful vampire lord. And then he has a run-in with vampire hunters and, in his bat-form, loses conscience and crashes on a balcony.
Some of Them by betsib
M | 11k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Abuse
Percy haven't seen Nico di Angelo in five years, then he suddenly turns up in Percy's living room in the middle of the night, injured and asking for help. At first Percy thinks it's a fight gone wrong, but he soon realizes the truth is far worse than that.
you're never lost at sea by kat777
M | 20k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Acceptance, Suicidal Thoughts
The second time he tries to kill himself, Percy doesn’t talk his ear off, just gives him an ultimatum—he can either come live with Percy and Annabeth in their apartment in New Rome, or Percy will tell Hazel what he’s done.
Nico pictures the devastated look on her face, the tears welling up in her eyes, her lips trembling and pressed in a thin line. Percy says he has a choice, and it makes Nico laugh for the first time since the battle at the House of Hades, because it’s no choice at all.
OR, Nico attempts suicide, Percy saves him, and years pass before either of them are even remotely all right.
Kiss a Boy in Tokyo Town by antistar_e (kaikamahine)
T | 57k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase
Novella, Infidelity
You know what they say, Percy Jackson. If you can't stand the heat, get out of hell.
Enriched By Envy by HK44
M | 63k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Magic, Protectiveness, Dark Percy Jackson
Waking up at the bottom of the ocean was not on Nico's bucket list. Trying to figure out why Percy was suddenly so clingy and possessive of him wasn't on there either.
The Case of the Dying Flower by chiiyo86
E | 72k | Complete
Percy Jackson/Nico di Angelo
Murder Mystery, Slow burn, Soul Bond
It's not that Nico has been avoiding Percy for the past two years, of course not. It's just that he doesn't like to be reminded of the stupid crush he had on him when he was younger. So when Percy seeks him out with the message that the goddess Aphrodite wants to see both of them, Nico is less than enthusiastic.
Before he knows it, he finds himself forcibly bonded to Percy and they're sent on a strange quest: solving a murder that happened thousands of years ago and whose primary suspects are gods.
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📖"Temporary Custody"
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky
Word Count: 3720
Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange
Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.
Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.
Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost
4. Cake Doughnuts (shitty non-doughnuts)
This is not the way Mary expected her life to go. Divorced at 29, probably unemployed, and now declared mentally incompetent and legally attached to some stranger? Ew.
At least when the cops had dragged her into the ER, she’d been drunk still. But she’s sobered up a lot since then, and ever more so during the drive from the hospital to back to Brooklyn. It’s the most awkward car ride of her life. Steve’s the one who drives. Mary doesn’t know why that surprises her, but it does. And he’s the one who leads the way into their building and up the stairs. It’s an older building with character but no elevator, so they make the three story climb on foot. Another resounding Ew.
Mary walks silently around Bucky’s (and Steve’s—because of course he’s gay and married) apartment, feeling shy and hesitant and all the things she just really doesn’t want to be feeling right now. She stops when she gets to the second bedroom, stares at its pristinely tucked-in sheets and neutral tableau.
“You can bring over any stuff you need from your place,” Steve is saying gently from behind her, where he and Bucky are lingering in the hallway. “It’ll be your room. We won’t bother you in there.”
She whips around. “How long do I have to stay here?” Better to figure it out now. Make a plan. She glares at Bucky, since he’s the one in charge of this disaster. “I’m not staying here forever.” Steve looks even sadder at her words than Bucky does, kind of like a kicked puppy. It’s disconcerting, so Mary keeps her attention on Bucky instead, forcing herself to make eye contact. “Well?”
“Until I feel like it’s safe and healthy for you to be on your own,” he says, not a hint of sympathy in his tone. That’s disappointing, and it pisses Mary the hell off.
“Screw you,” she says, not particularly loudly, but definitely full of all the contempt she feels for this guy. “You think you can just—”
He’s got her pushed up against the wall faster than she can track with her eyes. One second she’s standing feet away from him, and the next she just … isn’t. He’s in her space and against her body, one hand at the base of her throat and a thigh pressing forward, holding her to the wall. It’s terrifying and shocking and …
“Oh I know ‘I can just’,” he says darkly.
… She’d rather eat glass than tell him what else it is. “Let go of me,” she grits out.
Disappointingly, he does. Steve is just standing there like a big idiot, blinking wide eyes at the scene. Bucky takes a full step back from her and says, “Don’t curse at me, Mary. It’s disrespectful.”
She wants to ask him exactly what he’s done to earn any respect from her. She grinds the words into her teeth instead while Bucky watches her knowingly. She hates that look almost as much as she hates the way he says her name, as if he’s known her for years rather than a millisecond.
“House rules,” he says calmly. “The practicalities of what’s going to happen. We should discuss that, don’t you think?”
Steve places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, comes up beside him and wraps an arm around his waist in a way that reminds Mary that the two are a couple. “Hey,” he says softly, speaking in Bucky’s ear. “Why don’t we let her get some rest before you go asserting your dominance, huh?” Mary wrinkles her nose at the word, and Steve regards her kindly. “You’ve gotta be tired,” he says. “You want to sleep?”
Bucky looks like he’ll protest, so Mary nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah I’m tired.”
She watches as Steve squeezes his husband’s shoulder. “Come on, Babe. Let’s leave her to get some rest. She’s been up all night.”
Suddenly, Mary realizes that she has been up all night, and it’s almost comical, how fast the exhaustion hits her. Her throat starts to ache with a yawn that she fights not to let out in front of them. “Yeah,” she says again, this time thinking less about Bucky and what he wants or doesn’t want, and more about the bed that Steve said was reserved for her. She remembers that she feels like absolute shit, and probably looks it, too. “M’gonna sleep,” she says, turning away from both of them and heading for the bed.
The door ‘snicks’ shut softly behind her, and she assumes it was Steve who closed it. The two men's muffled voices fade off down the hallway, and even though it’s probably naïve to trust them so easily, Mary believes what Steve said about them not bothering her in this room.
She collapses on the bed that is exactly as soft as it looks. The sheets are tucked with military precision and smell like no one’s ever used them before. Mary grinds her face into the cool pillows and briefly wonders if Steve and Bucky have never had any company over to use this bed, before falling into one of the deadest sleeps of her life.
She wakes up feeling much, much better. Steve and Bucky’s guest bedroom has an en-suite, so she goes in and does her best to freshen up with the toiletries she finds stocked there.
There are three Advil Liqui-gel capsules sitting on the bedside table when she comes out. Mary regards them sharply and glances back to the door, but it’s still closed, no sign of life heard from outside in the hallway. Either the pills were there earlier and she just didn’t notice them, or else Steve is a lot stealthier than he looks. Twisting her lips, she scoops the pills up and tosses them back to fend off the headache she can already feel brewing behind her temples.
A quick search of the room’s dresser drawers yields nothing, and she’s forced to face the fact that she’s going to have to do this confrontation dressed in only her huge tee shirt from the night before. No matter, she thinks, squaring her shoulders and reaching for the doorknob. She’s got a new strategy in mind.
“I’m sorry,” she says, when she ventures out to find Bucky and Steve sitting in the living room.
Steve reaches for the remote to mute the tv, and Bucky sits back with a doughnut that he’s just plucked from a box on the coffee table. He bites into it, looking only vaguely interested "Want one?"
She spares a glance at the box. "Are they yeasted?"
"What's that mean?" Steve asks.
Another glance reveals that they're not, and Mary turns her nose up at them. "It means you're eating shitty, overbaked cake, not a doughnut," she says snottily.
Steve just blinks and looks back at the box with a little frown. Bucky takes another huge bite of his doughnut and chews it, maintaining eye contact with her and speaking around his mouthful, "Weren't you sorry for something?"
Mary purses her lips and starts over with her contrition act. “Yes. Look, I know you guys are just trying to help me. And I know I probably seem like such a hot mess to you right now.”
“Cause you are,” Bucky drawls.
Mary quells the urge to go over there and slap the doughnut straight out of his hands. That won’t help her with this new strategy she’s decided on. ‘Honey versus vinegar’, and all that. “Yeah,” she says instead. “So I’ll admit, my life hasn’t been going very well lately. And I really did need some help.” She forces herself to give Bucky a friendly smile. “So I’m glad you were willing to step in and help me. Thank you.” Bucky is looking at her way, way too unimpressed, and Mary squirms in place, thinking that he should be looking happier at what she’s just said. “Well?” she says.
He chews another bite of doughnut for a solid five seconds, swallows, then says, “How much did it hurt you to spit that out?”
She scowls. “I was trying to be nice.”
“Mm hm.” He pats the couch beside himself in a clear invitation. “Come sit down. Have a doughnut.”
She’s obeying before she even thinks about it, though at least she has the sense to take a seat on Steve’s side of the L-shaped sectional, and not Bucky’s. “I’m not hungry,” she says, just as her stomach gives a small growl.
“Well clearly that’s a lie,” Steve chuckles.
Mary glances over at him, peeved, but decidedly less so than she is at Bucky. Steve just seems less … threatening, maybe. Whatever it is, Mary pushes it from her mind.
“Look, I’ll stick around for a few hours or something if you really want to make sure I’m okay,” she says, attention back on Bucky, because she can already tell that he’s the one she’s got to convince. “But then I have to get back to my apartment.” She sees Bucky’s expression shutter at this and quickly adds, “I understand that you’re responsible for me, temporarily, technically. And I appreciate what you’ve done. I don’t want to cause you guys any more trouble than I already have. I’m going to take steps to take better care of myself now. And we can … we can keep in touch if you want. Just so you don’t ... you know … worry.” By the end of her speech she’s lost confidence, as she can see from Bucky’s expression that this is not being received well.
"Is that all?" he asks, eyebrow arched.
“Bucky,” she complains, floundering. “Come on. This isn’t … I mean you can’t just, adopt me, or whatever. I’m not some stray dog. You don’t even know me!"
He nods. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t.”
For one brief, overly-optimistic moment, she thinks that she’s actually going to get out of it that easy.
“But I’ll get to know you. Because you’re not leaving here anytime soon, Honey.”
All of that optimism tanks straight into a sour pit of disappointment. Mary shoots up to standing, startling Steve a bit where he's reaching for the doughnut box. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps.
Bucky takes another smug fucking bite out of his doughnut. “What?” he asks. “‘Honey’?”
“Yes! I’m not your ‘Honey’. I’m not your anything.”
He licks the sugar off his lips and stares her down. “You like it when I call you that.”
“No, I hate it,” she sneers. “Just like I hate your smug, self-satisfied face. I hate men like you.”
Bucky relaxes further back into the sofa, gesturing at her with the last of the doughnut before he stuffs it in his mouth and eats it. “Men like me, huh?” he asks once he’s swallowed, infuriating in his nonchalance.
“Yes.”
He chuckles and starts sucking his fingers clean one by one. “And what would that be?” he drawls, letting his legs splay wide on the couch cushions, thigh muscles straining against the denim of his jeans. He sees her getting distracted and hums. “Hm? Pray tell, Little girl. Do enlighten me. What are 'men like me' like?”
For one, airless second, all Mary wants in the world is to drop to her knees right between his legs, put her face at the seam of his jeans and rub her cheek against his thigh, against his …
Her thoughts go unfocused, fuzzy at the edges, static in her brain. She licks her lips absentmindedly, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of how he’s positioned himself …
“Mary.”
The sound of her own name draws her out of it, like a slap. She meets his eyes and juts her chin out, half dizzy from the effort. “Men like you think they know everything,” she grits. “Think that they’re the end-all-be-all. Men like you don’t feel any compunction about stepping on everyone around them. Men like you think you’re so fucking smart, that you can’t even fathom the likely alternative.”
“And what would that be?”
“That you’re actually just a cocksure moron,” she hisses.
Bucky tips his head at Steve. “Stevie tells me I’m a moron every other Tuesday, don’t you Babe?”
Steve shrugs a little from where he's leaning forward, holding the lid of the doughnut box open while he tries to choose a flavor. “Well, yeah.”
Bucky smirks, so unaffected that Mary just wants to scream. “So," he says. "You ‘hate men like me’, huh?”
“Yes. I do."
“That’s why you’ve spent your whole life around them, then?”
“I …" She falters. "What?”
Bucky glances over to Steve, and the two of them have some sort of silent exchange overtop the lid of the doughnut box, wordlessly communicating in a way that evidences a years’ long relationship. When they both look back to her, it’s Steve who speaks first.
“We got to read up on you a little, while you were asleep,” he says. He nods to the laptop and packet of papers on the coffee table. “Did some research. Learned about what led up to this.”
“'This'? What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been under the control of domineering men your entire life,” Bucky says, interjecting more forcefully over Steve’s gentler tone—Mary feels like she’s getting whiplash between the two of them. “First it was your father, out in Bumfuck, Nowhereville,”
“Indiana,” Steve mutters.
“Whatever,” Bucky snaps, zeroing back in on Mary with glinting eyes. “And he was ‘that sort of man’, wasn’t he?”
Mary feels a little like she’s been punched in the gut. “So what?” she says. “So you looked me up? Hospital gave you info on me and now you think you know me? You don’t know shit.”
“Your whole life, he said jump and you said how high, right?” Bucky asks, clearly not wanting or needing an answer to the question. Maybe Mary’s expression is answer enough. She’s not quite sure what she must look like right now. Horrified maybe. Or furious. “And then you latched onto the first jerk who’d give you a ride out of town.”
“Shut up.”
“Married him, too. And that worked for you alright ... Until it didn’t.”’
The backs of her eyes are starting to feel hot. “I said: shut up,” she whispers.
Bucky nods and leans forward on the couch, as if her anger and humiliation mean nothing to him. And damn him, maybe they don’t. Maybe he likes this, the sick bastard. “If he hadn’t hit you so bad, you would’ve stayed. Right? He met your needs in every other way.”
Mary shudders. “What are you talking about?”
"I'm talking about self-medicating, Honey. It's what you've been doing. Probably since you were a little girl."
She's disgusted with herself for the tears that break through, unmoored by how Bucky knows all of these things about her, and that he's able to fill in the gaps so easily. “What the hell is your problem, huh?” She swipes angrily at her eyes. “What does any of that have to do with anything? Except for that it’s none of your goddamn business?!”
Bucky softens a little. He glances at Steve, who gives him a warning look. “Sweetheart,” he says, looking back at Mary plaintively. “The drinking and the cutting, the feeling miserable and being sad all the time; that all started after your divorce, yeah?”
That … is not what Mary expected him to say. She’d been expecting more insults, more heartless jabs at her past. “I … What?”
“Answer the question,” Steve urges gently. He looks like he’s in on some secret with Bucky, something only Mary doesn’t know.
“Yeah,” she admits warily. “I mean, divorce is … well it’s divorce. It sucks. Of course I wasn’t happy about it.” She scowls and crosses her arms. “What’s your point?”
“My point is that, dysfunctional as they were, you had very specific relationships with very specific types of men, until what, like a year ago?”
“... Year and a half,” she mutters, unease creeping up her spine at where she thinks this is going.
“Right. And that’s when all your troubles started. Because let's be real: you weren't hurting yourself before then." He tilts his head, feigning curiosity. "Why do you think that is, Mary? Why weren't you falling apart before? When you had a father touching you wrong, or a husband putting holes in your drywall?"
"Stop," she breathes.
He nods sadly. "It was was after, when you didn’t have those people in your life anymore, structuring it, telling you what to do. Once you were alone, that’s when you started to fall apart.” He levels her with a pitying gaze. "Now why do you think that is?"
Oh, hell no. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mary says. She actually takes a physical step back from where she’s standing. “You think what? I was using my douche ex-husband as some sort of a … a dom? My freaking father?!”
“Mary, calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” She jabs her finger at Steve, who’s spoken. If she thought she’d been angry at these two before, well now she’s just … she’s just … “You’re fucked up,” she tells them, voice full of quiet fury. “And you,” she points at Bucky. “You might be diagnosed with some freaking mental disorder or whatever, but that doesn’t give you the right to put that fucked up psychology onto everyone else!” She jabs her thumb at her own chest. “I’m normal! I’m not like you. I don't–I don’t have …”
“Mary,”
“No! I don’t. I–I didn’t …” Vaguely, she starts to recognize that her pulse is pounding in her ears, that it’s getting harder to draw breaths. “My f-fa, my, my f-father…”
Bucky stands up and comes towards her. “Mary,”
“No!” She makes to push away, to leave the room, but he closes in too fast and before she knows it, he has one hand on her throat and one at the base of her skull, gripping her hair. And it’s not mean, the way he’s holding her, but when she jerks away it tugs her hair unpleasantly and she whines and stills. “Let go,” she gasps, terrified by the way his hands make her feel.
“Steve, a little help?”
Her heart lurches as she hears Steve move, sees him getting up off the couch and coming over. “Wait,” she whispers, afraid and not understanding why. Not understanding why she’s even whispering in the first place, instead of screaming like she should be. “No, wait, wait—”
Steve is behind her, and even though he’s hardly even doing anything, just has his hands resting on her lightly, Mary still feels a tremor run through her whole body. She feels so trapped. Fixed in place and terrified, but not because she thinks they’ll hurt her.
Because suddenly she can draw a deep breath again.
And she can see the look in Bucky’s eyes, can see how he knows that. “Please,” she whispers, closing her eyes when tears well to the surface. “Please, just, I just need to …”
“You’re okay,” Bucky soothes. “You’re okay, Mary. Just breathe against my hand. Breath against me, against Steve.”
She shakes her head, even though she knows what he means. With her eyes squeezed shut like this, she can feel both him and Steve so solidly, can feel the points where their bodies connect with hers. When she inhales, she feels them there. “What the hell?” she winds up whispering, more to herself than to them.
“You were starting to have a panic attack,” Steve murmurs. He hugs her from behind, and Mary shivers but doesn’t try to shrug him off.
“I don’t have those,” she says. Even to her own ears, it sounds weak. “I don’t,” she insists.
“First time for everything,” Bucky says.
They stand there for a long minute or two. Hell, maybe it’s more. As long as Mary keeps her eyes shut, she can at least pretend that it’s only a minute. It’s only once she opens her eyes that she has to face reality. When she does, she sees that Bucky’s watching her keenly. He looks … sad.
The thought that the man with one hand fisted in her hair and another wrapped around her throat is concerned for her strikes Mary as almost comical. She doesn’t laugh, but she also doesn’t feel close to crying anymore. “I’m okay,” she rasps, swallowing thickly. “I’m okay now.” Shaky maybe, but better. She can breathe again. “Really, I–I am.”
“Yeah?”
She nods, and the motion makes her all the more aware of his hand on her throat. She has to fight back a pleasured sigh at the feeling of it, fight to keep her eyes from fluttering closed.
Bucky shifts in, sandwiching her even closer between their bodies. “So what?” he murmurs. “You want me to let go of you now?”
“Yeah,” she says, not feeling like she wants that at all. “Please.”
He hums. “You’re very good at saying ‘please’,” he observes. “And at telling me you’re not submissive.”
“M’not,” she insists, trying harder to make her voice firm, or at least more than a pathetic, breathy whimper. She looks him in the eyes again.
When had she stopped looking him in the eyes? She can’t remember. She feels like she’s watching this all happen through the lightest sort of fog, or maybe in slow motion, like a videotape playing at only 70% speed. Something like that, she thinks dazedly. She doesn’t feel like she has to worry about it, though. It's warm and heavy and nice here; like being under bathwater.
Bucky’s not looking at her in concern anymore. He looks more relaxed now, nicer, his eyes softer around the edges. And he hasn't let go of her, either.
“She down?”
That’s Steve’s voice, coming from right behind. Mary likes the way she can feel the quiet rumble of it where he’s pressed to her back.
“Mmhm. Waay down.”
“Is it normally that easy?”
Bucky chuckles, it's a nice sound that Mary likes, the richness of it making her want more, like how chocolate makes you want more.
“No, it’s not. This is deprivation, right here. Poor thing.”
“Is she gonna be okay?”
“Oh, sure. We’ll just stay like this for a minute. She needs the contact."
Something about the two of them talking about her like she’s not there is … well it multiplies the bathwater feeling. She hears Steve asking a question, and Bucky making an unhappy noise and answering,
“It should never be this easy. Right now she’d go down for anyone, for even the smallest thing.”
“And she was working in the service industry?” A huff of breath hits Mary’s ear. “Jesus.”
“... Hey,” Mary says, sure that she should protest somehow.
But Bucky’s hand tightens just the barest bit on her throat, and he shushes her sweetly, tells her she’s a “good girl,” and kisses the top of her head.
And Mary pretty much forgets what she was going to say, after that.
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Square N5: childhood trauma
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