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quack-quack-snacks · 9 months

Text

Flaming Hearts

My Navigation and Masterlist

Pairing(s): Void Stiles x Phoenix!Fem!Reader Summary: You were always treated like an outcast by the pack. When the nogitsune takes over Stiles's body, he shows you how good being the outcast can feel Warnings: smut, pwp, mean McCall pack, EXTREME OVERSTIMULATION, fingering, cunnilingus, praise kink (tehe), eye contact, vaginal penetration, masochistic Void (kinda for like half a scene), sweet Void, commentary during the deed which is lowkey cringe in some spots my bad y’all, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, reader is not on birth control, Void lowkey baby trapping reader, a lil manipulation but like not bad, updated to have no use of (y/n), I think that’s it lmk if there's more. MINORS CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK. YOU KNOW THE WARNINGS YOU’VE READ THEM A THOUSAND TIMES. Word Count: 10,086

This was a very self-indulgent fic and I’m not sorry.

Pt 2 will be linked here when done.

BRO IS BEAUTIFUL WHAT

(GIFs are by @scuddish thank you scuddish for your wonderful contribution)

Life was cruel, but it made up for it with gifts.

You were new in town, a transfer student, living in a single bedroom apartment that was provided for you by your mother as well as helped by the government of Beacon Hills. You’d felt a calling to be here for the longest time and you were relieved your mom let you go. All throughout the first two weeks of your time attending the new school, you were desperately searching for friends or somewhere to fit into with no luck. On one extremely anxious day, you escaped your class to go to the girl’s locker room and break down there.

Until you saw two boys in there. The shock of two boys being in the Female locker room was enough to shake you out of your panicked state and make you wipe the tears from your eyes. With your vision no longer blurred, you could see the claws on his hands and the intense sideburns and fangs.

When once brown eyes turned a bright glowing amber, your body decided that was too much.

And you fainted.

The pack took you in after that - almost as an apology for making you faint - and allowed you to join their group since you knew about the supernatural now. They let you sit with them, invited you to sleepovers - Allison and Lydia mostly but Scott and Isacc surprisingly asked once. You were so happy to finally find a place that you fit in.

Except they never really let you join completely. No trust other than friendly-non supernatural related matters trust was placed in you despite the continuous ways you proved yourself. Being human, you were outcasted in the group of outcasts. Stiles was human but he was the brains. He discovered things no one else could, he was the detective of the group.

You were more like an emotional support human that was only needed like 2% of the time.

Noah Stilinski, the sweetheart that he is and despite his son’s deepest complaints, took over your living situation and let you stay with them for the year while you attended school at Beacon Hills.

Perfect fucking precious Stiles. He was infinitely the worst one in the group. At first he just avoided you at all costs until his dad decided to room you in the same house as him. Ever since, he’d been sending you glares anytime you were in his visibility and would blame you for the simplest of things despite obviously being the cause of them. He was so hard to get along with. Seeing how he acted around everyone else besides you and how everyone else acted around each other made everything worse. You knew you couldn’t leave because of Noah’s insistence to stay here and your mother not paying for housing anymore since she knew of your improved situation.

You also didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to leave these people. The only friends you can remember having. Those who, despite how they cast you out, have treated you decently well, at the very least sometimes, and took you in at your most vulnerable moment.

Stiles just seemed to hate you for whatever reason.

You sighed as you walked through the front door to the Stilinski household. A sigh escaped your mouth as the door closed behind you.

You called out into the house to let anyone home know of your presence. “I’m back!”

The house was eerily quiet and no response hit your ears. You shrugged it off with the thought of all occupants just being out and were a bit relieved you could have the house to yourself for a bit. They barely let you off on your own. Even now when you spent your time out of the house, you were accompanied by Lydia.

You shrugged your rain coat off your shoulders and took off your muddied boots, not wanting to track it into the house and have an excuse for Stiles to hate you even more. Your bones ached from the long day, having been running around all day trying to do whatever you could to help find Stiles. He had been missing for a while and the group barely filled you in on what was happening, just giving you the quick and vague summary about a nogitsune and a missing Stilinski.

With a sigh, you plopped down onto the living room couch and leaned your head on the back cushion. Your eyes closed and you took a moment to just listen to the quiet around you, the only sound the pitter patter of the pouring rain on the roof and windows. It was calm, peaceful even. You couldn’t remember a time where your life wasn’t a chaotic mess since meeting the pack. You sunk more into the cushions and pulled your knees to your chest while grabbing the TV remote and switching it to your favorite channel.

It was all so dark. So dark yet so comforting. Calloused fingertips caressed your forehead and brushed the hair out of your face. You could feel yourself being brought out of the heavenly ignorant bliss the darkness gave you and groaned in complaint. The fingertips stilled on your hairline, slowly retracting and you let out another sound of complaint.

A soft chuckle that sounded familiar but just out of reach for your sleep hazed brain echoed through the room. You felt yourself slipping back into the darkness when the familiar voice spoke.

“They don’t treat you very well do they, dove?”

Your eyes opened almost hesitantly and when you saw the voice’s face you gasped.

There he was. Stiles Stilinski in the flesh, and yet he seemed so different. His skin was paler, his eye bags sunken in and were a light purple. He looked… hot.

You shook that thought away the moment it popped into your head.

His hand, now resting on your cheek with a gentle grip, was feverish, almost to the point of uncomfort, but not quite.

And then you realized.

It was Stiles.

“Oh my god! Stiles what the hell?” You shot up to sit straight but his hand holding your cheek quickly traveled to your throat and he forced you back down, not holding enough to restrict air flow or hurt, but enough for you to get the message not to move. That and the glare he gave you. A sound of surprise sounded from your mouth unwillingly. “Um.” your eyes traveled from his unnaturally dark eyes to the wrist of the hand wrapped around your neck. “Okay, haha, you’re really funny but you can let go now.” You tried to laugh it off and deescalate the situation despite your growing weariness.

“Now why would I do that, when you look so pretty wearing my hand as a necklace?” He tilted his head and his eyes ran over your body slowly, seeing you shift under his gaze and his smirk growing with each movement.

“Wha- huh?” That was about all the words you could say, nothing coherent coming out of your mouth as you weren’t sure if you were flustered, annoyed, or turned on.

Maybe it was all three.

“Stiles, stop messing around. Everyone has been worried sick about you, they’ve spent the last 2 days searching for you nonstop. We need to call Scott and let him know you’re here and okay.” Although ‘okay’ doesn’t seem like the correct term. Sure, Stiles seemed unharmed, despite the obvious lack of sleep showing on his face - although that was relatively normal for him and his insomnia - but his tone, posture, and manners were way different. It almost seemed as if he had become a different person overnight.

He chuckled again, even his voice seemed deeper. Darker. “Oh I’m sure Scott knows exactly how I’m doing, considering I was at school earlier today. Oh… wait, they didn’t tell you, did they?” His face shifted into a mocking pout. “Poor little dove, outcast even in a place surrounded by people of supernatural abilities. The outcast of the outcasts. A fitting title don’t you think?” His words stung a little but it was nothing you yourself hadn’t already thought of. Him saying it just confirmed your thoughts.

“I mean, they don’t trust you at all. Despite everything you have put yourself through to prove yourself to them, they’ve just pushed it all to the side just because you’re different.” You were getting sick of him taunting you, just approving everything you’ve been telling yourself for the past two months. You rolled your eyes in annoyance and, fed up, you raised your hands to his wrist and tried to pry it off your neck. As soon as your fingers touched the skin of his hand - with a speed you barely saw - he removed his hand from your neck, using both hands to grab your wrists and pin them above your head to the couch’s armrest. He smirked at your dumbfounded expression and shocked stutters.

“You see, I’ve been watching it for a while now, the faltered smiles when one of them would make a comment to the group and cast you out. When they talked about their plans at lunch when you weren’t sitting with them yet and immediately shutting up when you got into ear shot. The way when even you don’t know, they are always following you, always watching. Making sure you were being a good girl.” He smirked once again and shifted your hands to be held by only one of his. The, now freed, hand forced your curled up legs to straighten and then he moved to straddle above you. You were pretty sure your eyes could just pop out of their sockets by how wide they were. His face dipped down and he pressed his nose to your jugular, his lips just barely touching your skin and lightly brushing against it when he talked again.

“But you’ve always been a good girl, haven’t you?” Your breath caught as his teeth lightly skimmed over your neck, canines feeling more elongated and sharper than normal. A shiver went down your spine as his tongue peeked out and slid up your neck until he was right next to your ear.

“Will you be a good girl for me now, dove?”

A whimper almost escaped your bite swollen lips at the pet name, your cheeks heating up and a warmth swirling in your core. “S-Stiles, what’s gotten into you?”

He growled and bit down on your neck harshly, making you release a yelp before it transformed into a muffled moan as he smoothed his tongue over it. “Don’t. Call me that.”

“Call you what? Your name?” You asked, so confused by everything that was happening. Confused on why Stiles was acting this way, confused by why he wouldn’t call Scott, confused on why now of all times your attraction to Stiles had to come out.

You’ve always thought Stiles was attractive. The muscles he hid underneath his baggy flannels, the short glimpse you would see whenever he took his lacrosse jersey off after practice or a game before heading to the locker rooms, and that pretty face that haunted your dreams. Now, it seemed the attraction was even worse because of this new arrogant, cocky, full of himself, and confident attitude. He wasn’t pretty anymore, he was bewitchingly hot.

It also didn’t help that something unmistakable was poking your lower stomach.

“That’s not my name.” He said before quickly positioning himself to be kneeling on the couch in front of you between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his waist and his clothed erection so close to your heat a soft whimper escaped your mouth against your will. He grabbed your neck again, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he smirked and jutted his hips forward.

A gasp that quickly turned into a moan left you and you struggled against his grip on your hands as your cheeks heated, embarrassed by the sounds you were making. You didn’t necessarily want him to stop, you just wanted to cover your mouth so no sound would come out.

As if he could read your thoughts, he spoke. “Oh no no. You’re not going to hide those pretty little noises from me. In fact,” he leaned his face in close, your noses touching and lips inches apart. “I’ve decided I’m going to make you unable to stop making them.” His lips met yours as he thrust his clothed sex against yours again, swallowing the moan that left your mouth. He grinded against you, teasingly slow and you could feel his lips turning into a grin as you tried to quiet your whimpers and moans.

Just as his hand managed to unbuckle your pants, your phone rang from the kitchen counter. Stiles broke the kiss and stared at you with an outraged and lust filled look. He let you get up to go answer the phone with an eye roll.

It was Scott.

“Hey Sco-”

His frantic voice panically calling your name cut you off. “Where are you?”

“Uh, I’m… at home? Or- shit, not my home, the Stilinski home.”

A short sigh of relief was heard through the phone. “Okay, good. Stay there. Lock the doors and windows, do not let anyone in. Absolutely no one, do you understand me? No one! Not until we tell you it’s safe.”

“Scott, it's a bit late for that. Stiles came home a while ago, I’m not sure when bu-”

“Stiles is with you?” Scott’s voice yelled through the phone and you winced before replying.

“Yeah we’ve been… in the living room for the past 20 minutes or so.”

“Get the hell out of there,” Scott said sternly with a bit of fear and anxiety mixed in.

“What? Why?”

His voice broke a little as he spoke your name with a fearful tone. “That’s not Stiles.”

A hand landed over your mouth just as you were about to say something else while another gently took the phone from your grasp. The shock and slight fear of the situation took over both your flight and fight senses, leaving freeze as the only option. Stiles, or not-Stiles, brought the phone up to his ear as Scott shouted through it, his every word stated clearly despite being heard through the phone when not on speaker.

“Sorry, Scottie. Why don’t you call back later? Your girl's a little busy right now.” With that, he hung up.

You turned around slowly only to have Stiles, or not-Stiles, standing inches away from you with a massive evil grin shaping his face. You took a step back only to realize you had no room because of the kitchen counter. Not-Stiles took a single step forward and then grabbed the counter on either side of your body, trapping you. He stuck his face into your neck again, breathing deeply before speaking.

“And here I was wanting to drag it out for a while longer.” He leaned back and looked you straight in the eye with the most genuine smile you had seen from him all night, if not ever. “But alas, not today.” He raised his hand and swiftly brought it down to a pressure point on your neck, knocking you out instantly and catching you with a soft grip as you fell. “Until next time, dove.”

A violent shake and iron tight grips on your biceps violently woke you up, Allison standing above your lying position on the Stilinski couch and looking at you with frantic panicked eyes that calmed when she saw you awaken.

“Oh thank god. You had me worried for a moment there.” She grabbed your hand and lifted you more harshly than you would have liked and you rubbed your wrist when she turned away. “Something’s going on. We need to go to Scott’s house, everyone is already there waiting for us.”

You knew better than to ask any questions. They would tell you what they would tell you and nothing more.

Looking around for your phone, you noticed it was nowhere to be seen and you remembered the events of last night.

Last night…

It had been a whole night since you had seen him. Since Scott had called.

Did they really take a whole night to come see you? To make sure you were okay?

The car ride there was silent and you could feel your anxiety rising the more the silence dragged on. A breath of relief left you as you saw Scott’s house pull up. Allison rushed straight into the house, leaving you behind without a second thought and you rolled your eyes to hide the pain it caused you.

When you entered the house, the chattering from the pack in the kitchen stopped abruptly and they all looked at you. Scott hesitated before he took a few steps toward you and brought you into an awkward hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay. We were all worried.”

You looked around once he let you go and almost scoffed. Oh yeah, they all look really worried. Didn’t have enough time to send someone over to make sue I was alive but they’re so worried.

Over time, they casted you out more and more and became more distant. You were completely left in the dust. Not even just for supernatural matter. Lydia and Allison stopped inviting you for sleepovers; Scott and Isaac stopped having lunch with you outside underneath the apple tree near the lacrosse field; Stiles, funnily enough, was the only one who stayed the same, if not lessened up on the glaring.

You heard a soft speaking from behind you and whipped around to see a sight that made you gasp.

There was Stiles. He was sitting on the couch with a piece of black tape covering his mouth with Melissa sitting next to him, her head in her hands. His eyes shone brightly when he caught sight of you and he tilted his head slightly to the side in a way that made you shift. It was like yesterday’s events were playing on repeat in his eyes and you couldn’t look away.

“I think it’s time we filled you in.” Scott said from behind you and it brought you out of the trance like state Stiles/Not-Stiles had you in.

“Yeah, you’re goddamn right it is.” You said and crossed your arms over your chest. Scott looked slightly shocked at your behavior and scratched the back of his neck. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “Don’t even. I am getting so sick of how you all treat me. I have proven myself over and over again and you all just refuse to believe that I am on your side. What do I have to do for you to trust me? Do I need to sacrifice a lamb for you to trust me, oh my Lord Jesus Christ?” The last sentence was uttered with as much sarcasm as you could muster. Your outburst left everyone temporarily paralyzed in shock - as you had barely ever raised your voice at them - before a loud, albeit muffled, cackle interrupted the odd silence. You didn’t even have to turn around to know the Stiles imposter was looking at the show with mirth filled eyes.

“We- we never meant-” Scott started.

“Oh shut up, now is not the time for your excuses. Not to mention you practically left me for dead last night after you called, Scottie.” You spat his name out with a venom coated tongue as you interrupted him again and rolled your eyes. “Just fill me in on whatever the hell has happened to Stiles so we can all move on in our lives.”

He nodded and started to tell you everything about the nogitsune, how he had taken over Stiles, how he had stabbed Scott, how he almost killed Kira. By the end of the story you were surprisingly not even phased, whether that be because your mind was used to everything being crazy in your life while involved with the pack or how you just didn’t care. It’s not like they ever treated you that well, sure they were your friends but they were your friends by convenience and force, not choice.

And Void, that is what the nogitsune possessing Stiles’ body was called, well, he was just something else. The events yesterday may be shifting your bias but it was undeniable. You had felt an attraction like never before during those short and blissful moments. It didn’t even feel like Stiles. You know that even if Stiles had ever done something like that, he would never have had the confidence like Void did. And it was a feeling that made you squirm in your seat on the kitchen stool.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled and you risked a glimpse behind to see Void already glaring into your eyes, his eyes darkened by a feeling you could only describe as complete and utter desire.

He wanted you. And if the chance were to come, who were you to deny him?

After 10 minutes of trying to figure out a plan and speaking in hushed tones to avoid Void hearing, Lydia had given in and called someone, you didn’t know who but it seemed everyone else did.

Once again they left you out. Even after you lectured them about how much they did that.

More waiting happened until the bang of the front door being slammed open interrupted your increasingly anxious thoughts. With a too gleeful expression for the situation on his face, the one and only Peter Hale stood in the doorway with his arms opened in a grand gesture.

You all gave him a deadpan stare.

He rolled his eyes and walked up to all of you, more specifically, to you. He tilted his head as he noticed your eyes. You turned your head to control yourself. When you were anxious, or just feeling any strong emotion, your eyes seemed as if the irises caught on fire. They were frighteningly beautiful.

And you hated them.

As your heart steadied and you raised your head back to the group again, Peter’s interested gaze had shifted away from you and to Lydia with a knowing look before walking to Stiles. As he crouched in front of him and inspected his state of being, he spoke. “He doesn’t look like he would survive a slap across the face, much less the bite of a werewolf.” You assumed Lydia already filled him in on what the situation was and what the plan was.

“You don’t think it would work?” Scott asked anxiously as he picked at the skin around his fingers.

“This is more a war of the mind than the body.” Peter stood back up to his full height. “There are better methods to winning this battle.” The mischievous glimpse in his eyes made you worried about what these ‘better methods’ were.

“What methods are you thinking of?” the veterinarian, Deaton, asked, his expression also showing concern.

Peter turned to face the rest of you. “We’re going to get in his head.”

As soon as he said that, he walked toward Lydia and roughly grabbed her by the elbow. With her being right next to me, you instinctively reached out and grabbed the wrist attached to the hand holding her. Peter’s loud unbridled yelp of pain made you rip your hand off him and he cradled his wrist as you caught a glimpse of it.

It was completely scorched.

Your face morphed into one of horror as your eyes flicker between the burn marks on his wrist that were, thankfully, already healing and the ashes on your palm.

“Oh my god! What did you do?” Lydia screamed at you and panicked as she grabbed Peter's arm, careful not to touch the wound.

“I- I didn’t- I don’t-” You kept trying to speak but your mind was panicking and your body was overwhelmed with shock and fear. Fear of yourself.

“It’s quite alright Lydia.” Peter said after a second when his hand had healed for the most part, it seemed the wound looked much worse than it actually was and all that remained was a red handprint and some ashes.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what happened.” You held the hand you used to your chest as if to protect everyone else from it. Deaton walked up from behind you and put his hand on your shoulder before flinching away.

“Your skin is burning. Scott, get her some ice.” Scott rushed to the fridge and brought out an ice pack. He practically shoved it into your hands before pulling his hand away quickly. He tried to hide it but his eyes showed fear.

It hurt, seeing them all looking at you like that. They tried to hide it but they looked at you the same way they looked at Void. They looked at you like you were a monster.

The ice pack in your hands was such a contrast to your burning skin that it forced your brain to focus on its contrasting temperature until you realized it was melting through your palms. You quickly hid your hands and the melted plastic of the ice pack in your pockets before anyone could see.

Anyone besides the boy sitting on the couch that is.

Peter reached for Lydia again, slowly this time and much gentler than before. You didn’t even look at them as they walked away, choosing instead to just stand there with your eyes focused on the hand you burned the man with.

After a while, they came back to the group and you all migrated to the couch where Stiles sat. You avoided his eyes like the plague, knowing they were zoned in on your every move and smiling in delight when he knew he’d gotten to you with just his mere presence.

Lydia was seated on one end of the couch, Void the other, with Scott standing behind the couch in the middle of them. Peter moved Scott’s fingers to align with the correct place to connect them all into Stiles’ mind palace.

“So what do we do if we do find him?” Scott asked.

“You’re going to have to guide him out somehow…” Peter replied vaguely which caused Scott and Lydia to both become increasingly annoyed and you rested your elbows on your knees before holding your head in your hands.

“Could you elaborate on ‘somehow?’ It’s not feeling very specific at the moment.” Lydia sighed with a slight roll of her eyes.

Peter shrugged, “Improvise.”

“Mm. Improvise he says.” you muttered under your breath but everyone ignored you.

Everyone except the murderous brown eyes burning a hole through your skull.

“What if this is just another trick?” Scott worried.

The grown wolf groaned in annoyance and exasperation. “When are you people going to start trusting me?”

You scoffed, thinking the exact same thing.

Scott’s eyes flickered between you and the hyena before he said, “I meant him.” And pointed to the possessed body on the couch. You finally raised your gaze to watch the scene unfold and felt your heart settle into your lower region when you saw Void. His head leaned against the back of the couch, tilted to the side as his eyes were focused on you, an enchanting and hungry look settling in his eyes as they gazed at you. He gave you a slow once over and everything around you tuned out as you felt your body heat up and pool in your panties. You could tell, if the black tape covering his lips was off, he would be sporting a very arrogant smirk.

A synchronized gasp from all three members near the couch broke your gaze with him as his eyes closed and his head fully fell against the back of the couch, face now facing the ceiling.

You almost stood up to go to him before a sigh from Peter faltered your movements and he spoke.

“Now we wait.”

And wait you did. It seemed like time was not in your favor when everything your life had become to know as normal was at stake. It couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes, but to you?

It felt like hours.

Blood dripped down Lydia’s nose and Peter ran up to her, shaking her as he screamed at her to concentrate and that she was stronger than this.

Personally, you couldn’t draw your eyes away from Void. His breathing was soft, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he swallowed and chest rising and falling with each inhale and outhale.

Meanwhile another Hale was pissing you off.

Just as you were about to call him out for being too loud, A collective gasp from the two non-possessed members near the couch once again interrupted you.

Melissa rushed toward Lydia to help her and Scott took a few deep breaths before focusing all his attention to the Stiles look-alike. “Did it work?” He asked frantically. You sighed and rested your head against your knees, arms wrapping around your shins to hug yourself in disappointment, the anticipation disintegrating into the thin air.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Lydia stood up quickly and rushed to Peter, demanding answers he evidently couldn’t provide.

“Because it’s not science, Lydia, it’s supernatural.” Peter sighed before grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him menacingly and they spoke in hushed whispers before Void shot forward onto his knees to the floor.

Like a circus act, a seemingly unending length of fabric spit from Void’s mouth and he used both hands to pull it out. Unnerving moments went by as everyone watched before all the scarf-like material was out of his mouth and he scrambled back to sit on the couch again, panting with his head resting against the cushion and his eyes closed.

There was clattering and yells to the side but you just stood carefully and walked to where Stiles was sitting on the couch. You sighed in nervousness before touching his shoulder softly and attempting to comfort him since all the others of the pack were focused on the clump of fabric behind you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, everything will work out. Just calm down.” You went to pull your hand away as his breathing slowed but he reached up and grabbed it with a speed non-human. Your heartbeat started rising again as the realization dawned on you.

He opened his eyes and looked at you with a smirk and heavy lidded eyes. “You’re right dove.” He tugged on your hand and you fell forward into him, his free arm wrapping around your waist aggressively. Or was it possessively? “Everything will work out.”

You awoke in a cold concrete walled room, the only warmth over you being your clothes and a soft woven blanket that did a surprisingly good job at staving off the chill. A soft padded queen size mattress with no support laid underneath to separate you from the frigid floor. You couldn’t remember passing out but you knew exactly where you were.

Or rather, who you were with.

Getting a sense of deja vu, calloused fingertips traced over your forehead to your hairline before going back again in a figure 8 pattern.

Your heart beat rose and his fingers trailed from your forehead to your neck, right over your pulse. You opened your eyes and looked at him where he sat; he looked genuinely happy, in a sick, twisted way. Despite how comforting the smile was, it sent shivers down your back that you couldn’t tell were pleasant or not.

“Hi dove.”

His voice broke you out of the trance his hypnotizing eyes put you under every time. You sat up quickly and scooted away from him, falling off the bed - luckily not falling down far because of how low the mattress was to the ground - and looked at him with conflicted thoughts and emotions.

He looked faux surprised and hurt by your actions, standing up and walking toward you as you scrambled to your feet to get away from him. “What’s wrong? You were so enthusiastic about it earlier, what changed?” You gasped as your back hit the concrete of the wall and he cornered you, one hand going to rest against the wall next to your head and the other holding your waist under your shirt. His fingers against your skin felt incredibly hot compared to the cold seeping through your shirt from the wall. He leaned in to speak again and his breath hit your lips with every word. “I promise I won't bite.”

Liar.

He leaned into your neck but didn’t touch you, only letting you feel the heat emanating from his body but not the skin. He took a deep breath in and you had to bite your lip and clench your eyes shut to stop yourself from falling to his feet.

It hadn’t gone away. The undeniable urge to just jump his bones and feel more of that pleasure he seemed so willing to offer.

“But of course, it's no fun if you don’t consent…” he leaned back and the hand that was previously on the wall next to your head traveled to your neck which he tilted upwards to lengthen your neck and looked at you with a smirk and hungry eyes ready to devour you. “So why don’t you be a good girl and tell me how much you want this,” he leaned in and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, “I can practically hear you throbbing.”

A soft whimper left you when his hand on your waist drifted to tug your pants down the slightest bit but never went farther without you answering. A few moments of silence passed, only interrupted by your soft pants, and he sighed in disappointment, his grip on your neck and waist slowly being removed.

Your eyes shot open from their closed state, you didn’t stop to think about when they had closed, and you grabbed his hands before they could leave your body. He looked at you expectantly and you opened and closed your mouth like a fish a few times before answering him with a soft and whispered: “I want it.”

His grip returned to your skin but his hand tugging your pants traveled back to your waist to draw little shapes there, tickling you just the slightest bit. “Oh dove, I’m proud of you for trying, but that’s not what I want.” His hand around your throat tightened pleasantly. “I want you to beg.”

Your eyes widened and you forced your cheeks to cool and swallowed your pride.

“Please?” You tried, weakly.

“Oh I know you can do better than that. Try again.” He didn’t say it as a suggestion.

With a deep breath and your hand, still around the wrist grabbing your neck, tightening, you did what he wanted.

You begged.

“Please, please I want it. I do, please, just… just do something, please! Anything! Please… P-please.”

He had a pleased smirk on his face as he leaned in so you were only a few inches apart. You could feel his breath on your neck with every exhale.

“How much do you want?” He taunted.

“Everything. Whatever you'll give me.” You told him with a tone of desperation.

He smirked and looked at you approvingly before crushing his lips against yours in a brutal kiss that sent you to cloud 9. Your hands traveled to his hair and you pulled on it roughly as you kissed back with just as much fervor. You felt him groan into the kiss and you grinned, but it soon faded as a moan formed when he pressed his fingertips to your core through your pants.

“My, my. All this just from kissing? You flatter me.” He spoke against your lips in a low tone. You knew exactly what he was talking about. You were absolutely soaked. The moment he started walking toward you, you felt the warmth in your core building and it hadn’t stopped since. Your head fell back against the wall and Void kissed down your neck to your collarbone, leaving bruises and hickeys in his wake. Applying more pressure, he dragged his hand up your core, pausing momentarily to draw tiny intense circles to your clit before using his hand to skillfully undo the buttons and pull your pants down. He broke the kiss to kneel down before you and look you straight in the eyes as he dragged the pants down your legs excruciatingly slowly. You hadn’t noticed previously but now realized your shoes were gone.

Who would’ve thought Void wouldn’t want dirty shoes on the mattress. Huh.

He stood back up to his full height and looked down at you as he rubbed your heat over your panties. He studied every expression you made and committed them to memory. His expression soon changed to one of annoyance, angry at the lack of skin to skin contact between the two of you. He ripped the undergarment into pieces before taking a step back to strip off his shirt. He paused just as he was about to step to you again.

You squirmed under his gaze as he gave you a long once over and his eyes stopped on yours. Another emotion in his eyes, one you couldn’t quite recognize, clouded over his lust temporarily. “What?” You asked self consciously and moved your hands to cover yourself, thinking he didn’t like your body.

Before your hands could even reach past your hips, he reached out and grabbed each wrist, ignoring your shocked gasp and pinned them against the wall beside your head. “Don’t ever fucking do that again. You’re insecure? You don’t think you’re attractive?” He taunted angrily. He pressed his lower body into yours, his rather large, clothed, erection pressing to your bare clit as he grinded it into you. You moaned and he leaned into your neck again, being much rougher than he was a minute ago. “Ya feel that? That is all you dove. You fucking did that to me. You do that to me wearing baggy clothes and no makeup. You do that to me fresh out of bed in the morning with your hair in knots. You’re doing that to me right now, trapped between me and the wall, a silly shirt covering your divine breasts and nothing else.” He bit down on your shoulder hard enough to draw blood and you let out a loud moan. “You’ll take responsibility for it soon enough.” He arranged your hands to touch and he grabbed them both with one hand, the other sliding down, spending time to caress your breasts and pinch your nipples through the thin shirt fabric. He moved lower and lower until he reached your heat and thrust two fingers in with no warning. Without even letting you adjust, not that you really needed to with how wet you were, he started pounding his fingers into you. You started moaning uncontrollably and struggled to get out of his grip to hold onto something. He humored you and released your hands. Immediately they fell to his shoulders and then wrapped around his neck to pull his face into your neck where he started to leave his love bites. He grabbed the back of your right thigh and lifted it, wrapping it around his waist which allowed him to hit deeper. With every thrust, he curled his fingers and they hit you right in your pleasure spot.

Soon enough you could feel a knot forming in your stomach. It built and built and you warned Void about what was incoming.

“Oh that’s right, cum on my fingers dove. Let me know who makes you feel this good. Stiles could never fuck you like this. He could never bring you to such pleasure. To the point where your every bone quakes and sings in an overwhelming amount of pleasure that I alone am giving you.” His grip on your waist tightened to the line bordering between pain and pleasure just as his thrusts sped up to a pace faster than you believed even possible.

“Cum.”

And you did just that. Your bones really did quake and sing with pleasure. Your body writhed and you thrust yourself against Void’s fingers, grinding yourself through your orgasm despite him not slowing down and riding you through too.

Your orgasm slowed down to a stop and you took a deep breath before another loud and unrestricted moan released during your exhale and you noticed Void had yet to stop or even slow down.

“Ah, st-slow do-down-! It’s-ah-it’s too much!” You begged and yet he just smirked and increased his pace.

“Oh sweetheart, isn’t this what you wanted? You told me you wanted everything, you wanted all of it.” You swallowed in a lust filled fear as he smirked even wider. “So darling, you are going to take all of it.”

He led you on to another orgasm by his fingers alone. Your puffy clit was begging for attention after being neglected for so long. When you reached your high, he slowed down and pulled his fingers out. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from whining at the emptiness. He brought his fingers to his lips and stared you straight in the eyes as he brought them into his mouth and moaned at the taste.

You blushed and tried to look away until his free hand came up to grab your jaw roughly and force you to face him as he licked and sucked at his fingers, prolonging your embarrassment.

When he was satisfied with how much embarrassment he could feel radiating off you, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before he grinned. His hands gently placed themselves on each of your hips and he leaned in until your lips barely grazed each other’s.

“That little taste just makes me want to have more. Which reminds me, I haven’t had my dinner yet. Do you mind?” You tried to lean forward and kiss him but he just leaned his head back until you gave an answer. You nodded your head no and he grinned.

“There’s my good girl.”

He leaned in and kissed you softly, so softly it distracted you from the hands on your hips traveling to your butt and quickly lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. Without moving his feet an inch, the wall behind you suddenly disappeared and he threw you down onto the queen bed mattress. You landed with a small bounce.

You looked at him in shock and confusion but he just grinned and winked.

Teleportation. Huh. Must be a nogitsune thing.

He kneeled down in front of the bed and ripped your shirt off before grabbing your thighs to bring you to the edge. You yelped and stared as he lifted your legs over his shoulders, the backs of your knees curving over them. He gave another little wink before diving in.

You moaned as his lips finally gave attention to your clit and a shock of pleasure swarmed through your veins. Your head fell against the mattress and your eyes clenched shut when the euphoria became too much to your, still sensitive, core.

A loud slap and the stinging on your outer thigh caused you to flick your eyes open and look at the man between your legs.

“The next time you look away from me I will edge you for three new moons.” He spoke right against your cunt and you could feel the vibrations surging through your clit. With a moan, you nodded and adjusted yourself to lean on your elbows and look at him. He brought his tongue out to lick a long stride up your cunt and collected your slick in his mouth before going straight back into his meal.

You had no doubt he would stay true to his word if you looked away, so you kept your eyes firmly on him, despite every protest in your veins to close your eyes when it became too much.

When the coil in your gut built up again, he could feel you approaching your orgasm and looked you right in the eyes. You blushed and were so tempted to look away but he tightened his grip on your thighs in a warning.

You came again for the third time. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him but they fluttered shut every few seconds as he kept licking and sucking at your overstimulated clit.

When he seemed satisfied two mind blowing orgasms later, he climbed up your body, one of your legs falling to surround his waist while the other he kept suspended over his shoulder.

“You did so well. You’re such a good girl, following orders with no questions.” He kissed you and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “They don’t deserve you, they never did.” He murmured against your lips before his head traveled to the curve of your neck and shoulder.

He took his pants and boxers off in no time, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds and over your clit.

Your mind was racing with too many conflicting emotions to comprehend: want, fear, lust, panic. You looked down and saw him.

He was big. Bigger than any guy you’ve ever seen, not that that was many considering you were a virgin.

“I am going to ruin you. No one else will ever be able to make you feel the way I do. Every time you cum from this point on will be from my body, no one else's.” He spoke menacingly while he watched in awe as your overstimulated clit twitched whenever he ran the head of his dick across it. The mushroom tip of his cock caught along your entrance through every glide up and down until he stopped and pushed it fully in.

“Wait, wai-ngh!” You tried but got interrupted by your own moan when he thrusted all the way in to the hilt, his tip pressed against your cervix in a mind blanking way. The sting of the stretch was there but was completely oversighted by the immense pleasure that came with it. You gasped at the feeling and wrapped your arms around his shoulder to scratch at his back. His back quickly covered in nail marks and marks of ash and burned skin.

You gasped in horror at the unwilled release of your fire until he moaned loudly - filled with both pleasure at the pain and entrance of your slick walls. Any sounds he had tried to hide completely spilled out. “Shit, keep doing that d-dove. Mark me all you want. Make me yours. F-feels so good; you’re so tight. Are you a virgin or something? You’re squeezing me to death, I don’t know how much longer I can take with you so tight around me.”

You froze at the accusation and turned your head the opposite of his, not answering his question.

A sigh escaped you when he started leaving kisses on your neck, slowly dragging out of your entrance before entering back just as slowly. An elongated moan left your mouth when he hit a certain spot on his way back in.

“Oh it’s alright my sweet girl. This just means I’m able to take another thing Stiles has been longing for. If only I was able to take your first kiss too.”

You almost missed what he said when he snapped his hips into yours harder and you sputtered unintelligible words at the movement.

“He-agh-he what?” You asked him as he left a soft bite on your clavicle.

“Oh yeah, I don’t think there was a corner of his mind that wasn’t filled with the idea of you. Poor little Stiles couldn’t stop imagining you like this.” He mocked. “He would’ve fucked you with your chest to the bed and you ass sticking up all nice and pretty but I don’t think you’d like that, would you sweet girl?”

Your heart skipped as he rose to look into your eyes. “No, I don't think you would.” He roughly snapped his hips to yours again before putting on a mock sympathetic look. “You want them to look at you as you’re getting pleasure you’ve never before received.” Another harsh thrust and you moaned loudly which he silenced by sticking two fingers in your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. Your lips immediately wrapped around his and you grazed your teeth along the sensitive skin. He tasted like salt and your cum along with a hint of blood. “You want that skin to skin contact as they bring you within an inch of your life and back.” Another thrust. “You want someone to make love to you, no fucking around.”

You moaned especially loud at that. You didn’t want to lose your virginity for something that wasn’t going to mean anything. You’ve known Void for less than two days and yet you feel more connected with him than all the McCall pack combined. It seems he feels the same way from how he’s talking.

“I'm the one who took your first time, and I will be the one to look into your eyes as you receive the pleasure I am giving you; I will be the skin you feel against your own as I move inside you;” He paused for a second as he leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, biting softly on the nub, and smiling as you whimpered in return. “I will be the one to make love to you.”

You grabbed the hand thats fingers were in your mouth and pulled them out before grabbing his cheeks between and pulling him into an aggressive kiss. You whimpered and moaned as he sped up, reaching deeper and deeper with every thrust. The hand that was once in your mouth traveled down your body slowly, smearing your saliva across your nipples as he played with them before settling against your clit. Just the slightest graze from his fingers made your spine arch up into his chest in anticipation and pleasure. He started rubbing figure eights into the pleasure bud, matching them with the pace of his thrusts.

Your lips opened in a moan and Void took the opportunity to shove his tongue against yours. He took control of the kiss instantly and rubbed his tongue along every inch of the inside of your mouth, exploring it like looking for treasure marked on a treasure map.

You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn’t drive his mouth away from yours, needing to breathe in through your nose every minute or so so you didn’t pass out. He pressed the fingers against your clit down harder as if to encourage you to cum and and you came beautifully. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve experienced tonight if not ever. Your body was shaking in exhaustion after the multiple orgasm you’d received within the last 30 minutes, or was it closer to 2 hours? You weren’t sure but honestly didn’t care. You could feel by the way Void broke the kiss and pushed his head into the crook of your neck along with the tensing of his back muscles that he was nearing his orgasm as well.

Then it occured to you, this whole time he was using no protection.

And you weren’t on birth control.

“N-no-agh-you gotta pull o-out. ‘Might get pre-ngh-pregnant. I’m not on birth c-control.” You focused all your energy on speaking despite the overwhelming overstimulating feeling of him driving his dick into your cervix and his thumb making you lose every thought that came to your head with his torturous but amazing touches.

He suddenly came to a complete stop inside of you. His dick twitched as the only sounds heard were your heavy breath and whines of complaint despite your better judgment.

“You’re not on birth control?” He asked into your neck, skimming his lips along your carotid artery.

“No.” You whispered.

You felt him grin that same evil grin you’ve seen before against your neck before biting down hard on your neck and withdrawing his hips from yours. You cried out at the feelings of pain and emptiness overflowing your senses.

“You don’t wanna have my babies, is that it?” He whispered into your neck with a tone that sounded almost heartbroken. You knew it was fake yet something in you just wanted to comfort him.

“N-no that’s not-”

He sat up abruptly, his cock now only half an inch in your entrance. The leg that rested on his shoulder fell to surround his waist with the other one and he sat back on his heels while grabbing your hips. His face looked so sad as he gazed down at you and yet his eyes seemed to hold a completely different emotion.

“Why not, dove? I’d give you everything.” His grip on your hips tightened and he slowly pulled your hips into his using only the strength of his arms. He slid back into you easily and his tip settled against a spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head and mouth opening in a low moan. Void grinned as he saw your reaction before returning to the pitiful look as he drew his hips back out again. His lips quirked up the slightest bit as you whined out. Pulling your hips into his roughly, he kept you there as you moaned louder. “I mean, if you really want me to stop…” He slowly started retreating out of your warmth as he trailed off before your arms wrapped around his neck.

“No!” You yelled before whispering almost like an echo, “No.” You breathed heavily in his ear, sputtering as you tried to get the next sentence out with his tip prodding against your cervix ever so delightfully. “Please don’t stop, y-you just can’t c-cum inside.”

He thrusted roughly into you again and your arms lost all strength as the mind blowing pleasure took over your mind. He repeated that cycle. Slowly pull out, roughly snap back in. Over and over and over. It made you whimper and cry out every time, wishing he would just bring you to the ecstacy you’ve been nearing instead of leaving you teetering on the edge of relief.

“Oh you feel so good baby, gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” He repeated like a mantra as his hips fastened and he pushed into you even harder.

Your mind was fogging over as you finally got the pleasure you needed to reach your orgasm. You barely had the strength to move your tongue and speak out your protests that were weakening by the second, you actually wanted his cum. You want it to be spilling out as you stand up, soaking your underwear as you walk around. You just were so scared of being pregnant. Your sister got pregnant when she was around your age. Your mother completely freaked when she found out and banished - yes, banished - her from the house forever.

Would Void stay? You still weren’t exactly sure what his intentions with you were. Was he going to kill you after this? Was he going to make you pregnant and leave you alone to raise the child on your own?

Apparently, Void could sense the onslaught of fear and panic creeping into your mind because he shoved his face into your neck and dug the pads of his fingers into your hips even harder. There was surely going to be a bruise the next coming day.

“Oh you’re going to look so good pregnant with my kids. God it just makes me so hard thinking about it. I wonder what they’ll look like, will they have your eyes or mine? God I hope they have yours so I can stare into them all day no matter where I am. This is the one thing I need to do to make you mine. You gonna let me make you mine, Dove? You gonna let me cum inside?” His pace slowed to a comforting, intimate pace. It brought you even closer to the edge just thinking he liked you enough to stay, maybe even loved you from how he was thrusting into you now.

You took a few moments to think about it before your mouth outran your thoughts. “Yes! Yes, Void, please. Please fill me up.”

He kissed your neck softly as his pace fastened again but still kept the intimacy from before. He pushed back the hood of your clit and started rubbing harshly on the overstimulated puffy bud of pleasure, making you lose all coherent thoughts and abilities to do anything but moan out his name. With a stuttered thrust, he pushed in all the way and came inside you. The feeling was enough to make you fall over the edge right with him. You both laid there in each-others arms while you tried to catch your breathing.

Void caught his a lot faster.

With a chuckle, and his dick as hard as when you started, he grabbed both of your legs, raising them so they were resting on his shoulders and he had you in the mating press and pressed your thighs against your breasts as he thrust into you with no reprieve. He pulled out of you before pushing back in, a torturously slow pace that made your body writhing and squirming. You gasped at the feeling and squirmed in his hold from the overstimulation. This new position made it so he hit your g-spot on every thrust in with no effort. As he brought one hand down to your clit again and rubbed so deliciously hard and slow, just like the pace he had set for his thrusts into you, you couldn’t take it anymore and came yet again. He had brought you to another orgasm in less than 2 minutes.

“Oh, you didn’t think we were done yet, did you, Dove? We have to make sure it sticks, don’t we baby? Gotta get you nice and knocked up with my kids. We can’t just stop now.”

With each slow thrust and the overstimulation, it didn’t take long before you came again and Void had the biggest smirk on his face as he watched you.

“V-void! P-ple-I can-can’t take anymore. I can't, I can't, I can't!”

He just laughed at you and your protesting words, capturing your hands that were weakly trying to push him away and forcing them to stay above your head where they were restricted of all movement. He pressed down even harder on your clit and you let out a yelp of a moan as you could feel another knot forming. “Darling, you don’t get to decide what’s too much. I'm in charge here, Dove, and you’re done when I say you’re done. You’ll take as much as I give you.”

His words turned you on so much more which surprised you as you didn’t think you could be any more turned on. You came once more and could tell by how Void’s face scrunched up in pleasure that he was reaching his limit as well. His dick pulsed inside of you, each vein had a throbbing heartbeat that struck so painfully good against your walls.

“One more, just one more, Dove. Give me one more.” He groaned out as he held his own orgasm back and rubbed rigorously at your clit while his pace increased to an unfathomable level. Finally, as you came yet again, Void released inside of you again.

He collapsed on top of you, his head landing on your chest, pillowed by your breasts. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth as his slick fingers resumed their torture of your extremely overstimmulated clit. They rubbed slowly but it felt so much more intense than all the previous times that he had brought you pleasure. It burned in the best way possible.

“One more, come on, I know you have one more in you.” He encouraged, again. It seemed like he would just never stop.

He was utterly insatiable.

You came once more for the final time of the night and Void rewarded you with kisses scattered all across your chest for all of your efforts.

With your eyes barely able to remain open. and your limbs drained of any energy, Void looked at you with a soft look and gathered you in his arms. He grabbed the blanket that had been kicked off during the time of your… activities, and covered the both of you with it.

With his cock still deep inside of you, keeping everything he spent trapped within you, he whispered, “Good night, Dove,” and pressed a kiss to your temple. That night, you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling more safe and at home than you have ever been before.

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vaspider · 2 years

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Pete Buttigieg is not the fucking point.

Truly amazed at the people whose big takeaway from that thread is "you hate Pete Buttigieg" like buddy did you not... read... all of it?

I genuinely don't give a shit about Pete himself. If you think this is about Democratic self-devouring or whatever the fuck, please mentally substitute Ellen or George Takei or Rachel Maddow or your favorite Other Respectable Gay. I hear some dude named Rubin is even a conservative who is getting turned on for adopting a baby? I don't know who he is and I don't care (do not tell me, I do not care) but if it makes you feel better, substitute any of those names.

I think the ones that actually make me sad are the people who keep insisting that 70% of people support gay marriage, and that I'm just 'acting out my trauma', and we won't see things turn against us, we're perfectly safe now, how dare I say that cishets won't put themselves out for us when it counts, it's different now.

Honey, 99% of people want tomorrow to go on pretty much like today, and what they'll support when it doesn't cost them anything has nothing to do with what they'll support when it does. Those of us telling you 'we were abandoned before, and we were the ones who took care of us then' aren't telling you because we're incorrigibly bitter misanthropes. I am annoyingly hopeful, actually, and in love with humanity and the beauty of life. Seriously, I have to write poems about it because I love the universe and all of humanity so fucking much. One of the things I love about humanity is its fragility and its uncertainty. I love the ways in which we fail.

And humans, over and over again, turn our eyes away from tragedy.

If you are lucky enough to have cishet friends and family who will put themselves out for you when it really matters, that is fucking fantastic. That's not nearly universal, and I'm afraid that you're going to find out sooner rather than later that it's far less universal for you than you'd like to believe.

At the end of the day, you can believe me or not about all of this. You can say that I'm just a bitter old transfag, an angry old dyke, a traumatized old queer if it lets you sleep better at night, if it allows you to just close your eyes and say 'this is all going to be fine, because 70% of people support marriage equality!' and get some rest. I can't make you pay attention.

And the thing is? I'd love to be wrong. I would absolutely love for every cishet who has ever said "one of them" or said "well, I mean, I just don't want to see it, they can do whatever they want in private" or whatever to turn out to be the raddest fucking ally the world has ever seen. I know it can happen! My in-laws went from being Baptist homophobes to getting weekly chatty update phone calls from the two trans women refugees from Latin America who they housed and helped get their papers sorted and who are now living in New York and call them Mom and Dad. Like, truly, it can fucking happen!

But you can't count on that from the vast majority of people, because when it comes down to it, most people want tomorrow to go on pretty much like today. You're much more likely to be able to count on someone with a dog in the hunt.

More than that, though, the point of that essay -- which, when people miss it, they miss it so hard that it feels deliberate, honestly -- is that all of our bullshit infighting doesn't mean dick. I've been saying that for years, begging people to think inclusively about our community, begging people to stop all the bullshit infighting because I could see this shit fucking coming, you didn't need to be Cassandra to see it coming but sometimes I felt like I was screaming until my throat was horse, the fucking tsunami is coming, it's coming, motherfuckers, can't you see the way the water is pulling back?

And here we are, and all the arguing about whether bi lesbians are "valid" doesn't matter, and everyone's attempt to gatekeep butch and femme doesn't matter, and everyone's arguments about whether neopronouns are bad doesn't fucking matter because we are all just fags, dykes and trannies to them, they do not care for one fucking second about any of this. None of them care for one second about our infighting. No one is going to stop and ask you what your orientation is so they can call you the right slur when they're gaybashing you, kids. They. Don't. Care.

So now here we are, and people are acting like the point of the essay is that I wanted to call one particular dude a fag, rather than that it doesn't matter how perfectly primed you are to fit into Respectable WASP Society, it is your queerness which is objectionable. It is your gayness. It is your transness. It is your bisexuality, your asexuality, your lesbianism. You will never be granted rights and respectability. You have to defend your rights, and stop giving a shit about respectability as a metric of whether or not someone deserves them.

I mean, for fuck's sake, some Iowa voters tried to withdraw their caucus support once they realized that Pete was gay. It literally fucking happened. There's video. Someone they supported above all the other candidates in the Iowa primary was immediately disqualified for them to the point where they tried to retract their support the minute they found out he was gay.

That's the fucking point. I don't care who you use as your Proxy Respectable Gay.

Pete Buttigieg is not the fucking point.

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kieren-fucking-walker · 5 months

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Hey folks!

A few people asked if I was okay after my other post so I thought I'd give a general update as to Life Things (tm).

My mum finally left my dad, nys sister got married and he wasn't invited to the wedding and the way he acted was enough to make her leave. My youngest sister (still an adult) was left alone with my dad in the house and I had to talk her through packing a bag and leaving without him noticing. They both left pretty much everything behind and we don't know if they'll be able to get it back. They're at my grandparents now which is further away from both of their workplaces and a very temporary solution, but safe at least. My youngest sister is disabled and she needs support nobody can really give her at the moment, but she's safe.

I lost Juniper (one of my cats) a few weeks back. It was old age, but I wasn't able to be with her and it still doesn't quite feel real. I miss her so much, and I feel very bad about not being able to be with her (a very good friend was though, she was loved and wasn't alone thank god.) Sage is looking for her sometimes but seems to have some understanding of what's happened since he saw her briefly afterwards, she's buried in my best friends garden having a new adventure.

My landlord put my rent up by £100, but hasn't fixed a lot of the things wrong with the flat. The cost of heating this place is ridiculously high, so I'm trying to put the heating on as little as possible even though it's dropping into the minus degrees. Apparently they're set to go up even more in the new year because this country wants to kill us I guess.

My disabilities are all flaring up at once, I've had to take unpaid leave from work, I've not been able to afford the physio sessions that stave off the joint issues, or the food that helps keep my protein levels up because it is expensive and I need to eat something at least. I'm very very lucky that we have the NHS and all of my medications now qualify so at least I get those.

It's coming up to Christmas, I don't know what it's going to be like this year. My family is scattered and all in precarious situations, none of us have much to spare and most of us don't have a permanent home or more than a suitcase of stuff. I need to get Sage his vaccinations, and I feel terrible about leaving him alone in the cattery over Christmas.

That is to say that life is a lot. It's good things, but unstable. My dad is harassing us all, but we aren't stuck with him. I can't afford to keep my disabilities at bay, but my family is safer even if they need more support. Mentally at least I'm okay, I think.

If you'd like to help out, my PayPal is here and my Ko-Fi is here. If you can't or just don't want to this is not for you, god knows we're all going through hard times at the moment and the world is going to shit, but if you do and you're able it will be much appreciated by me and my family.

Finally here is a picture of my beautiful Juniper. Rest in peace my darling.

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season, and thank you for reading 💜

#life blogging #update #if nothing else look at my beautiful kitty #i miss her #give your pets a kiss from me #disability #family shit

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 8 months

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You can call me, Sir.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific chapter warnings : Failed CPS case, implied abuse with belt, clothes shopping (I tried my best to be as body neutral as possible), sugar daddy Arron, sales lady is rude towards reader, Things are getting spicy, first rules, use of pet names, reader is described as having hair long enough to sweep over one shoulder, trying on clothes, Let me know if I need to add anything!

A/N: The amount of love that has been shown for this story so far has absolutely filled my heart! I’m sorry this chapter took a minute to come out, I got married last week sooooo 😍 that slowed the process down a little. Haha 💜

*~*~*~*~*~*

9 years ago

The worst part was the way her nose stung, like a million tiny needles stabbing her all at once. But she had to breath through it, because only selfish, weak, incompetent people cried. So she forced her thoughts solely on the older woman who sat across from her, her grey hair loose around her shoulders, and the bright pink blazer she wore with matching skirt. ‘I think name is Deloris?’

Not what you would have thought when you heard the term ‘CPS worker’. She smiles at the young teen as if she was Y/n’s best friend and there isn’t a care in the world as her fountain pen taps against her yellow notepad. “You’re mother must have been a lovely woman.”

A muscle in Y/n’s jaw twitches, but she manages to return Deloris’ smile briefly. “She was.”

“So is that really the reason you have been skipping school?” Her green eyes were full of mock sympathy, and Y/n can only assume how many of these ‘troubled teen cases’ she has had to work.

“Yes ma’am.” It was the 8th anniversary of Y/n’s mother’s death. Today. She can hear her father in the other room, moving about the kitchen, pretending to not be listening through the thin walls. Y/n squeezes the pillow in her lap tighter to her churning stomach, already anticipating how the rest of the night will go.

“I’m sorry, dear. I know losing a loved one can be hard, but that doesn’t mean we can go about making things hard for the ones we still have.” Deloris tilts her head, her lips in a slightly pout as she regards Y/n, who only bites her cheek to keep quiet. She drops her chin to her chest, fanning shame with a small nod, placating the woman. “Good. I’m going to go talk with your father now, I hope you understand the severity of the situation you’ve almost caused. I expect to hear you are in school tomorrow.”

Deloris doesn’t take long in the kitchen with Y/n’s father, her pitchy laughter grating on Y/n’s ears. Her father escorts the worker to the door, his hair is combed, beard neat and he’s dressed still in his work clothes. A fitted grey collard shirt and jeans. His usual Forman outfit. At one point in Y/n’s life she can remember thinking her dad had been very handsome, but that had all been before the drinking.

“Have a good evening Miss. Deloris.” Her fathers southern accent is always laid on heavy whenever he is trying to impress someone, or to get his way. And for most of his life it worked well. Y/n wonders sometimes if that is how he had charmed her mother.

As the pine door shut, Y/n closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath before the storm. When she opens her eyes again, she’s staring at the brown tweed couch across from her, out of the corner of her eye she can see her father’s still form in the archway of the living room.

The sound of leather hissing through his denim belt loops makes her stomach drop, her breath quicken in her already tight chest. “Gone an got me in trouble huh?” He folds the worn leather over in his hands, snapping it together watching as she jumps in her seat. Her gaze remains focused on the spot Miss. Deloris had occupied, the old springs and cushioning holding her shape. “You ain’t learned trouble girl.”

Present Day

It’s almost unbearable how cold it is outside, the dark clouds over head threatened to snow on the busy sidewalk as you shove your hands as far into your jacket as they will go. Aaron is pressed against your side, his arm wrapped around your back, directing you through the crowd and to the front of a large store.

Chic’s End

Your nose scrunches slightly at the different mannequins in the brightly lit windows who’s clothing is on the higher end of fashion. Pieces you’d never find in your own wardrobe. Aaron guides you towards the door but you stop abruptly shaking your head. “Hotch, aren’t there places a little less… fancy?” Your tone gives away your discomfort as you scan the nearly empty store.

Aaron sighs, stepping around you so he can look you in the eye. “Rule number one: call me Aaron when it’s just the two of us, Hotch is too formal. Now I’m sure there are, but you deserve to be a little spoiled…” He pauses, his phone vibrating in his pocket making him frown. “Now go inside, let me check this and I’ll be right in.” As he fishes for his phone he pulls open the door for you, letting you walk in with a small head rush.

‘Our first rule?’

You take the moment you have some to look around the store front, a few customers are mingling about the rows of clothing, associates putting away inventory or helping their guests. A brunette is standing at the register, her hair sprayed and pinned into a tight bun atop her head. She glances at you, her nose turned up at your simple outfit, without a word of welcome she goes back to her work.

The door is opening a moment later, a small bell going off as Aaron steps in, the icy breeze trying to follow. “Sorry, David was checking in.” His voice reaches the woman at the counter, grabbing her attention. She watches as he shrugs out of his winter jacket, her gaze fixing on the flash of jewelry on his wrist with a smile.

“Is he okay?” You ask, handing Aaron your own jacket as he hangs them on a coatrack.

“Oh yes, he’s-.”

“Good afternoon, is there anything I can help you with?” You turn, the same woman from before now standing in front of you. She’s wearing a form fitting black dress, the apparent dress code for the establishment, a silver name tag pinned to her collar reading ‘Denise.’ Gone is her dismissive attitudes from before, her blue eyes staring intently at Aaron with a sly smile.

You feel something in your chest squirm, making you take a step in front of Aaron as you pull your best smile into place. “Oh thank you, but we are just-.”

A warm hands is suddenly on your shoulder, pulling you into Aaron’s side. “We’re looking for some work attire; blouses, pants, skirts and such. Along with more casual wear.” He squeezes your shoulder as you slide him a disgruntled look.

Denise regards you with a tight lipped smile, nodding her head slightly. “Of course. Right this way.” She turns on her heel, an extra sway in her her step that makes you roll your eyes as you pull out of Aaron’s grip following her. He follows behind a few paces, regarding you with masked amusement.

She takes you to the back of the store, pointing out the sections of racks you’ll need and where on the walls you can find work appropriate pants and skirts. Denise turns to Aaron once again, stepping to close for comfort as she stares openly at his suit. “You know, we have the latest in Brioni’s suit jackets that I think would complement you rather well, Mr…” She brushes her hand against his arm and your eyes widen.

“No thank you. I’ll let you know if we need any further assistance.” Aaron comes to stand beside you, his expression hard to read as he places a hand on your lower back. Denise’s eyes narrow slightly, her smile faltering before she pulls her emotions back.

“Please do.” She saunters of, throwing one last look over her shoulder.

You laugh unbelievably, “Jesus… she was a bit forward.” You turn toward the rack beside you, picking up the first shirt your eyes land on. It’s a simple white blouse with navy blue pinstripes, the neckline is a little low for your taste but otherwise it’s very pretty. You pick up the tag and instantly drop it, your mouth falling open.

“What?” Aaron asks, sliding the clothes along the pole, looking through the selection.

“This! These clothes are way to over priced.” You turn the tag towards him, and he squints at the small numbers. ‘75.56’. He frowns slightly and you think he’s about to agree with you, call this whole ridiculous thing off until he shrugs.

“That’s not so bad.” He grins at the incredulous look you level him, showing perfect teeth. “Darling you’ll come to realize the value that comes with certain things. Soon enough you’ll see the value in yourself as well.” He chucks you under the chin softly and you think that’s it.

You’re going to explode.

Everything it too much.

“Hotch, I can’t just let you waste that kind of money on me. You don’t know what you will need it for later, bills, or -.”

Aaron steps into your space again, bending down until he’s eye level with you and you clam up. His eyes are dark, burning with an intensity that has your shoulders slumping slightly. When he speaks his voice is quiet but direct, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “What did I say our first rule was?”

You stammer, your grip tightening on the fabric still in your hands. “You said… to call you Aaron.”

“Correct. So that’s one. Now, when I say I am doing something for you, buying you something, getting you something; do not doubt me. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. Do I make myself clear?”

All you can do is nod, your throat dry and tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. “Good girl. Now if you really find calling me Aaron to difficult, you can always call me sir.” You suddenly look like a fire had been lit underneath you, your face flushing a new shade of red he’d yet to see before. You turn away from him, trying to hide your emotions and aggressively shuffle through the clothes before you.

Aaron straightens with a satisfied smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*

An hour in and there is a mount pile of clothing in the cart in front of you. Everything you’ve selected draped over one side and everything Aaron selected on the other. You had found a discount rack, the red tags a twisted mess by now, but the 15% off sign did little to quell the guilt eating you.

“Okay… this is more clothes than I think Garcia even owns. I think we should-.” You’re talking absently, glancing up only to find Aaron is walking in the opposite direction of the checkout. “Oh for the love of all things holy.” You quickly follow, pulling the cart behind you as the hangers rattle together. He stops in front of a display of eloquent evening gowns and you follow his stare to the forefront of the display. A deep emerald green satin dress takes your breath away, with a sweetheart neckline and a slit that goes half way up the mannequins thigh. You peak around the back in awe, it plunges well down to the lower back, a sheer material with beautiful rhinestones occupying the negative space.

Aaron watches as you pick up the bottom of the dress, rubbing the buttery material between your fingers. “I would love to see you in it.”

You shake your head, though your focus remains on the dress. “There’s no reason to, when would I ever wear this? Besides we’ve been here for nearly an hour, if we don’t leave soon I’m sure Denise is going to jump your bones.”

Aaron chuckles at that with a shrug. “You might not be wrong, she’s been lurking around the corner ever since I took my jacket off and she caught sight of my watch.” You glance down at his wrist as he shows you a golden Rolex. You hum in understanding, putting the two together. A handsome, stylish man, with a nice suit and a watch that coasts a couple of grand. She sees dollar signs. “Go ask her for a fitting room.”

Glancing around you notice she’s no more than ten feet away, pretending to be busy with an already neatly arranged display of sweaters. You walk over, hands clasped behind your back. “Excuse me?”

She doesn’t bother to look up, her head tilted as if in contemplation as she stares at the stack in front of her. “Yes?”

Your jaw clenches slightly, but you smile regardless. “I’d like to try that green dress on, where are your dressing rooms?” That finally catches her attention, she looks around you to the dress your talking about and then to the cart beside Aaron, the red tags turned her way. With a bemused smile she finally looks you in the eye.

“Sorry, that dress isn’t on sale, dear. Maybe come back some other time.” Her high voice carries farther than she thinks, reaching Aaron who’s eyebrows raised in surprise before furrowing as anger bubbles in his chest.

Before you can say anything he is by your side, startling you both. “She didn’t ask you if it was on sale. She asked if you had a fitting room.” Denise pales, his voice is harsh and edged making her shift on her feet as she begins to stammer

“Well I… it was just-.”

“Just what? It’s a simple question, this is a clothing store so you must have fitting rooms. She would like one opened.” Denise can no longer keep eye contact, her gaze flickering from his face and away again. “Now.” The command in his voice makes her move, her mouth agape and she’s pointing indirectly over her shoulder. She turns, quickly walking away and you’re left to stunned to react. Aaron’s hand finds your back again, pushing you forward, his other hand on the end of the cart.

The dressing area is three beiges booths with deep red curtains for doors. A large mirror takes up one wall that is lit up like Time Square during Christmas, and there are mirrors in the booths as well. “You said the green dress?” You nod, giving her your size and she’s running off again, her head down and face red. Aaron takes a seat in one of the mahogany chairs, folding his arms across his chest. He’s watching Denise leave with that same look he gives every unsub as they are being hauled off to their final destination.

“Um… thank you, for… for that.” You speak up, breaking the silence waiting on Denise to return.

He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his black shoe tapping the polished floor. “You don’t typically show when you’re upset or irritated, I had to step in. I also couldn’t stand by and let you be berated like that.”

This time it’s you who crosses their arms, glowering at him. “I wasn’t showing I was upset, so what she was being rude? It didn’t affect me.”

His lips pull into a sarcastic smile, head shaking. “Sweetheart, I’ve been working with you for three years, nearly four. When you get upset over something, even if it is trivial, you dig your nails into your palms. Most likely because you would rather focus on that then what’s stewing in your mind and your chest.” You blink at him, awareness washing over you as you shake out your hands, crescent indents marking your flesh.

Before you can snip at him Denise is back, placing the dress in one of the rooms and leaving without a word. Aaron raises an eyebrow and you huff, turning and walking into the booth before snatching the curtain closed. You take a moment to breath, your annoyance merging on anger as you begin to undress.

You have to force yourself to remember this is all apart of the contract, this is all small steps to whatever greater end goal he has. You can’t fully trust he’s doing this out of the kindness of his heart, no one is like that. Working a career where you catch murderers and kidnappers and rapists has shown you such. The thought lingers at the back of your mind that maybe he’s pushing you to break and go to therapy where they will force your leave. It wouldn’t happen, you’ve come to far to let anyone treat you that way.

You step out of your pants, bending down to pick them up when you notice movement in the mirror. You look up, making eye contact with Aaron from where he sits and you go still. The only thing that moves is your heart as it suddenly jumps into double time.

Aaron’s eyes slowly rake over your body, the hunger in his eyes evident even from where you stand and you can feel your body respond. Heat rushes through your veins, leaving you lightheaded. He shifts in his seat, your eyes dropping to where he tugs at his pants legs, a noticeable bulge in his lap that makes your guts clench. From anxiety? Want? Curiosity? You aren’t sure. You quickly look away, his smile turning wolfish as you straighten and spin around, giving him a full peak at the matching black bra and panties your wearing before yanking the curtain fully closed.

All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, your fingers suddenly tingling and your lungs working for air. Shakily, checking the curtain again and again you strip out of your bra, and pull the dress over your head. The satin is soft and cool, the green leaving your skin glowing in the light. It hugs your body in ways you wouldn’t of imagined and you… like it. It screams seduction, fun, and someone you’re not but someone you once might have wanted to be…

The only issue is you can’t zip it yourself. You struggle for a few minutes, contouring your body this way or that, but you can’t get the zipper more than half way up your back.

Reluctantly you pull the curtain aside just enough to peak your head out, your eyes instantly finding Aaron’s. He raises an eyebrow, his hands clasped together in his lap and you are more than aware of why. “I need her help.” Your voice is floaty and you clear your throat. “I can’t zip it up.”

“I’ll help you.” He stands, crossing the small distance in three long strides, quicker than you can reject his help.

“Wait- no, I’m-.” But he is pulling the curtain away from the other side and you curse the interior designer with a flourish of silent profanities. In the small space he seems larger than life, all broad chest and long limbs. He steps closer and you back up, an all to familiar dance you two have rehearsed before.

He holds his hand out, a gesture of reassurance but he is still looking at you like a starved man. “Spin around, pretty girl.” Your legs feel suddenly numb, like you’d never used them before in your life as you continue to stare. “It’s okay.” He whispers, taking another half step forward.

“It’s fine, it fits well enough without it zipped I’m sure it’ll fit great when it is.” You fight to keep your body lose and face expressionless, trying to mask the feelings bubbling in your guts. Aaron doesn’t say anything, only continues to stare you down, gaze never wavering. “Really.”

“Turn around.” You don’t want to listen, but the timber of his voice makes your body ache in a way that catches you more by surprise than anything else has these past 24 hours. Cautiously you lay your hand in his, letting his pull you in before spinning you around so you’re facing the mirror. He sweeps your hair over your shoulder, his fingers grazing across the naked skin pulling gooseflesh to the surface.

You stand as still as possible, hardly breathing as he gently slides the zipper up. His palms spread across your ribs, warm through the thin fabric. “What do you think?”

“It’s a beautiful dress.” You whisper quietly, trying not to back down from his stare.

“You make it beautiful.”

“You’re only saying that.” He pulls you closer, your back hitting his chest, your body molding to his. A gasp disappears on your lips, his hips pressing into you lower back his erection prominent making you shiver.

“I can promise you I’m not.” His hand slips to your stomach, splaying across your abdomen, and a small noise hitches in your throat. He tilts his head down, pressing a tinder kiss to the crown of your head and all you can focus on is where he’s touching you and where he isn’t, but where you want him to. Your panties are suddenly slick feeling as you shift against him, his erection digging further into your ass.

“Aaron…” You try to warn, and he watches the way your eyes flutter, the shields you’ve so desperately and carefully constructed cracking under the weight of his stare. Some logical part of your brain, buried beneath the mush of your thoughts, is screaming and begging to run away. But how long had it been since you’d felt that fire in the pit of your stomach, curling your toes and making your thighs pinch together?

You’re about to open your mouth, say something, anything at all, when he is suddenly pulling away. “Come out here so I can get a better look at you.” Aaron steps behind the curtain leaving you to your spiraling thoughts and an ache you’d never imagine. Your face is flushed, eyes wide and pupils blown out over the color of your irises. It’s hard to keep the air in your lungs from rushing out in soft pants.

All you can think is that if this is how you react to a few simple words and actions, you’re screwed.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next half hour is spent paying for your clothing, a bill Aaron wouldn’t allow you to see, then moving the bags from the car to your hotel room. You stare at them now, laid out on your bed with furrowed eyebrows and your thumbnail caught between your teeth. How would you get these in your bag and on the plane with as little notice as possible?

“Maybe we can go get you another duffle bag tomorrow.” Aaron answers as if he could read your thoughts, and if you didn’t know better you would say he did.

“It’s okay.. Thank you for the clothing.” You manage, giving him a tight smile as you glance to where he is standing at the foot of the bed.

The entire car ride was filled with tension, his presence alone setting you on edge, all while he remained calm driving down the busy streets and helping you to your room.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He smiles at you, possibly more so from your compliance, his eyes like coffee. “Would you like to join me for lunch?”

You bite your nail harder, looking back to the bags. “I’d like to just order my food to my room, I need to get this organized and finish my reports.” You expect him to argue but he only nods, coming around the bed and kissing the top of your head before he walks towards the door.

“I’ll check on you in a little while.” With that he leaves, and as the automatic lock slides into place you crumple. You sit heavily on the bed, running a hand through your hair like it might comb your thoughts back into place.

What are you doing?

What is he doing?

You groan in frustration, the feeling of not having control over what happens next beating on your bones and muscles. You haven’t relaxed since this began and you have a feeling you won’t for a long time to come.

*~*~*~*~*~*

If you would like to be tagged in the next parts please comment below and I will gladly add you! Thank you all for your support!

@kneelforloki @hmett20 @axionn @ncis0mrs0gibbs

#smut #apollyonsdarksecrets #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 14 days

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aita/wibta for NOT breaking up with my bf ?

i'm not sure if the title is phrased weirdly, bare with me. my bf and i are both 18, he is cis M & i am FTM (relevant).

My bf and i are both currently in first year uni, both living at home due to high cost of living in our country (also everywhere else lol). We met about halfway through highschool, and were friends for a while before getting together. we are coming up on two years together in a couple months, and have not really had any major bumps in our relationship. we see eachother i would say 1-2x per week, with both of us living at home and being broke it gets a little challenging sometimes but we call most nights and generally we make it work. Also worth noting that I am my bf's first everything, down to his first kiss, while he is not really this for me. this is the longest relationship i have been in (probably because i'm 18 lol), but not at all the first. however, the only "serious" relationship i have had outside of of him, aside from just casual stuff, was very abusive & toxic, so i do sort of see us on equal footing as neither of us has ever been in a normal, functional relationship before.

Now, the issue: while we are both currently living at home, i see this as a very temporary arrangement and something i am counting down the days until i can get out of. while living with my family is not abusive or anything, it is just very straining as i am not very close with them, and also cannot transition while living at home. as previously mentioned i am ftm, and while my mom is tolerant it would just put even more stress on the relationship if i were to start changing physically while living at home or even asking her to use different pronouns for me and is just something i prefer to leave until i'm not 100% reliant on her. that being said my dysphoria causes me very intense depression and without getting too detailed, i don't know how much longer i can take living here and putting off any sort of meaningful transition outside of close/online friends calling me he.

my bf, however, plans to live at home at least until he graduates, which is six years away. i understand that this is a very normal thing, especially culturally (he is middle eastern + muslim, i am white + agnostic), but the issue is that his mother is, among many other things, extremely homophobic. she already hates me for reasons i'm not really sure of (my bf refuses to go into detail, i think to protect me, but i have seen extremely graphic and nasty texts about me by name on his phone and have been told by him that he doesn't even mention me around the house or else she gets extremely upset, though she is always extremely nice to me the few times we have interacted), but anyways, me transitioning while he is still living at home would be essentially putting him in legitimate danger.

my bf does not like to think about this, which i understand. it's hard enough dealing with what i get from my family, and that is absolutely nothing compared to the fact that everyone he knows from his culture/religion beleives he should be dead just because he is gay (i know, as does he, that there are queer muslims. but they do not exist openly in his personal community). but the problem is that anytime i adress to him that the idea of waiting until we are in our mid-twenties for me to even think about transitioning is a really big issue for me he basically refuses to talk about it and just says that "it will work out". on top of the transitioning thing i just generally don't want to be twenty-five (the age he has told me is when he plans to move out) and still having to cancel dates last minute because my boyfriend's mom was in a bad mood and decided he's not allowed to go out tonight. i know this is how life is for many people and they learn to deal with it! and i respect them very much! but it is genuinely my nightmare. i understand why he cannot/does not want to cut himself off from his family, especially since his dad lives overseas and is extremely wealthy so therefore paying his entire tuition out of pocket. i'm just saying it's not a lifestyle that meshes well with my future plans.

this is where the asshole part comes in: my bf genuinely thinks that we are going to spend the rest of our lives together. this started with small comments, things like alluding to the idea of our potential future kids (i love kids and raising my own is genuinely my end goal in life, something he knows just because i am very open about it), or talking about our future apartment/house, but now is basically just a constant conversation in our relationship. i try not to feed into it, but i also feel badly responding to his sweet comment when i point out a house i like on the street about how we'll buy it one day with something about how i don't ever see that happening. i generally just respond neutrally, but i will admit i get caught up in the fantasy sometimes and contribute to it as well.

he is such a lovely guy with a beautiful heart and i do really adore him, and it's not a situation where i don't want to spend the rest of my life with him. to be honest, that's the dream. i love him with everything i have and i would literally do anything for him. the problem is just that when he talks about this future together all i can picture is all the million ways our relationship is doomed to implode.

but we are happy right now, because me moving out of my family home is not something that is going to be possible for another 1-2 years, so none of those issues are something that are going to come up right now. i just forsee them being pretty much impossible obstacles between us and spending the rest of our lives together down the line. but i have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that even though i want more than anything to be with him forever, the fact that i don't remotely beleive it's something that will actually work out still constitutes as leading him on.

so, am i the asshole for staying with him, because we are happy right now and these issues are not going to be relevant for another 1-2 years, and a solution might somehow present itself in that time? or is the right thing to do to just leave now, and rip off the bandaid?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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suchagreatimetobealive · 2 months

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 ~°•*'▪︎

Teen!Reader x Beast!Dazai

- I don't know what this is. I just needed to take this off my chest.

The boss of the port mafia is your forbidden dream.

No, not on a romantic level; you aren't in love with him. Or that's what you like to think, hope. Maybe a little crush? Yeah, that must be it. Then again, you always hoped your father would bring you alongside him each Saturday ever since you were 11 years old and couldn't stay alone at home.

Your mother works from early in the morning to late in the evening, which means if your father didn't bring you with him to work, you would stay at home alone throughout the whole day.

But now you aren't a kid anymore; you can stay by yourself. You don't want to, though; you always go with your father to work, even though at first he preferred you to stay home.

"I always brought you with the terror of something happening to you. Now that you are older and can stay by yourself, you don't want to?"

At the end you convinced him, but it cost you a lot of pleading. He even tried to understand why, but you can't tell him it's because of your undying interest, maybe even obsession towards his boss.

Every Saturday, you find yourself in your dad's office, sneaking glances at the bookshelf full of notebooks, folders, books, and boxes. Sometimes you stay on your phone, hoping every second for your father to stop working on the files or computer and say something like, "I have to go see the boss, please stay here."

It's something you would never do. You act like the same child you were five years ago, just older.

You have seen the boss not many times... to be honest, you probably only saw him once, but it wasn't on purpose. Your father ordered you sternly to stay inside the office and wait for him to be back but you didn't listen to him, which made you see the most gorgeous creature your childlike eyes could ever see.

Since then, you never forgot him.

He was there, sitting with his hands under his chin, dark eyes not sparing even a glance at you as he analyzed whatever your father was blathering about with an incredibly focused, unblinking gaze.

But you, oh, you found him so interesting.

His behavior, his face, everything about him was so captivating that you never stopped thinking about him, not once.

Especially his voice; how could a voice so honeyed be so cruel, how could such a lullaby be so brutal? You remember your father trembling under his gaze, acting like he had done something wrong and waiting for some kind of punishment to come his way.

You didn't really understand at that time, and now that you are older, you don't remember their conversation; you aren't even sure if you listened to it, too focused on the way his voice was so soft it could put you to sleep, lulled by the sweetness of his tone.

It's normal for a child to develop crushes on older people, you know this, but is it normal for it to last so long, dragging on until your early 17 years old? Five years have passed, so why haven't you gotten over him yet?

You've never felt more ashamed in your life than you do right now.

Your own trail of thoughts is silenced by a harsh sound as your father smacks the papers on top of his desk, almost suddenly getting up from his seat.

Your eyes snap towards him, slightly wide as you didn't expect such a move coming from him; he's always fairly composed, so it's logical for you to react this way.

"I have to go see the boss. Yn, for the love of the clouds, stay here." he says, flashing you a hard look as if he wants to pin you down where you are standing.

Your response is a guilty smirk.

You will never stay put.

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intimidating-fettuccine · 9 months

Note

Do you think toby still show signs of PTSD from his dad or sometimes has episodes? (How does masky deal with him?)

(Not a request but if it seems like one you can delete srry 😓)

[If anyone finds anything I mention triggering please let me know and I’ll tag this]

Absolutely. I talked about this a bit in my Toby character analysis, but my Toby went through EXTREME torture and psychological damage at the hands of his father, and is definitely not mentally healed. Toby has trauma deeply ingrained in him and his behaviors, and they show up presently.

Toby avoids Masky personally at all costs. Masky likes to trigger him intentionally because he thinks it’s funny (which Masky gets HEAVILY punished for), so Toby just avoids him. Tim, on the flip side, works incredibly hard to try and help Toby. He works very hard to remind Toby that mistakes do not equal punishments, that it’s okay to fuck up, and that if he DOES get in trouble, the punishment will be nothing in the world like what his father would do to him.

There are times where Toby will hide in his room for days to weeks on end, unable to be around people because a trauma flare up is so bad. There are times where Toby has a manic break in the company of others due to a trigger, which will then cause him to hide away again because he feels he’s done wrong. Toby often doesn’t think he deserves good things, and will reject kind behavior. Toby has severe insomnia due to nightmares that he can’t get away from. Toby gets nervous if people are behind him, and when he hears people walking down the hall or towards his room, he memorizes their step pattern so he knows who it is instinctually. Toby has struggled with harming himself, although most of the time these days he’s gotten better.

When he first joined the mansion, Toby acted a lot as if he was a soldier obeying authority figures, as that was what his father had trained into him, and while 90% of the time now he doesn’t do that, sometimes he slips into a bad headspace and he goes back to those behaviors, and nobody can really get him to stop until it passes. Toby isn’t really happy-go-lucky a lot of the time. Most days he’s actually very very mellow, if not outright depressed in his behaviors. Toby never experienced a normal upbringing, so he doesn’t fully still understand how to behave in healthy settings, especially with such a large group like in the mansion, so he finds it hard to connect with others, especially because of his tics from his Tourette’s syndrome, which are his main source of insecurity. Toby tries his best to fit in and make progress with his healing, but even after all these years he still finds it very difficult a lot of the time, even though he’s made very good progress considering his starting position.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #slender mansion mayhem #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanon #tim wright headcanons #masky headcanons

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tonyspank · 9 months

Text

CHAPTER THREE | RECKLESS

Tara Carpenter x G!P Reader x Female OC

Warnings: kissing, fluff, short chapter because i want u guys to be happy one last time

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

It's been seven months since Tara and Sam brought you back to their community. You've settled into a routine and formed close bonds with the people there. Life has become more stable, and you feel a sense of belonging that you haven't felt in a long time. The community has become your new family, and you couldn't be more grateful for Tara and Sam.

Sometimes you'd go on supply runs; other times you'd take out groups of walkers, clearing the area around the community to ensure everyone's safety. The once terrifying world has become a place where you can make a difference, and you're determined to protect your new family at all costs.

You've grown close to Sidney, Tara, and Ethan the most. Sidney has become the aunt you've never had, always offering wise advice and comforting you during tough times. Ethan has become like a brother to you, always looking out for your well-being and making sure you never feel alone.

While Tara...she's... you don't even know how to explain it. She's a close friend, but at times it feels like there's something more to that, a deeper connection that you can't quite put into words. There's a magnetic pull between the two of you, an unspoken understanding that transcends friendship. It's both exhilarating and terrifying, leaving you questioning the boundaries of your relationship and what it could potentially become.

But, you don't want to risk anything. Especially since Iris is here. It feels weird to move on from her because, since the start of this apocalypse, the only thing you could think of was Iris and how much you missed your girlfriend. But, it doesn't seem like she feels the same way. You'd catch her and Chad being intimate and affectionate, making it clear that she has moved on.

Heather told you that Chad and Iris have been a complicated couple since they met at the community. Iris was stuck on you while Chad was pursuing her relentlessly. He even saved her life one day on a dangerous mission, which made her start to develop feelings for him. It's painful to accept, but it seems like Iris has found happiness with Chad, and it's time for you to do the same.

It's hard to accept that Iris has chosen someone else, but you know deep down that you can't force someone to feel a certain way. You deserve someone who loves you wholeheartedly and reciprocates your feelings. It may be difficult now, but with time, you will find someone who appreciates and cherishes you just as much as you do them.

"Ouch!" You grunt out, landing on your back. Ethan smiles at you, panting as he holds out a hand to help you up. You send him a playful glare before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you up. "How are you so good at close-range combat?"

You ask, still catching your breath. Ethan chuckles and says, "Cop dad. He taught me a few moves growing up," he explains, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "But ever since, you know, the dead and stuff, he's been on my ass about it."

You hum in response, "That's nice. Officer Bailey seems like a nice guy...when he's not sulking around the place." Ethan nods in agreement, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, he's been through a lot. Losing Mom really hit him hard. But he's trying his best to keep us safe and sane in this messed up world."

You give him a sympathetic smile, understanding the weight Officer Bailey carries on his shoulders. Despite the tough exterior, you can see the love and dedication he has for his family.

"C'mon! Chop, chop." Dewey says, interrupting your conversation and urging you two to spar more. You and Ethan exchange a knowing glance before playfully rolling your eyes at Dewey's impatience. You hold up your fists again, ready to continue the sparring session.

After about twenty more minutes of sparring, the session is finally over, and you're sitting cross-legged on the grass, catching your breath. Dewey walks over, a satisfied grin on his face, and pats both you and Ethan on the back. "Great job, guys," he says. "You're really improving." You exchange a proud smile with Ethan as Dewey walks away.

"I have a very serious question." You look at Ethan, curious about what he's going to ask. "What is it?" you reply, eager to hear what's on his mind. "Did you take my pudding from inventory?" You raise an eyebrow in surprise at Ethan's question. "Your pudding? No, I didn't take it," you answer honestly, wondering why he would think that.

Ethan thins out his lips, eyeing you suspiciously. He then sighs as he senses your genuine confusion. "It must've been Chad then! Ever since we've been returning from supply runs, every single one of my sweet snacks has disappeared." You tilt your head, considering Ethan's accusation. "Chad? Are you sure it's him?" you ask, curious about the possible culprit.

Ethan nods, frustration evident on his face. "I've noticed him eyeing my snacks before, and he always seems to have a guilty look when I ask about them," he explains. You hum a bit before turning your head to Tara, who was walking down the community's street, looking bored as ever.

"I'll talk to you later, E." Ethan nods in response, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches you jog over to Tara. "Hey, Tara."

"Hey, what's up?" Tara responds, smiling at you. "Not much, just wanted to ask if you maybe wanna hang out outside the walls for a bit." Tara shrugs, her smile never fading. "Sure, why not?"

"Cool, let me just shower, and I'll be ready to go." You quickly make your way back to your house, taking a quick shower before meeting up with Tara again. She greets you with a warm smile, her excitement evident in her eyes. "Ready?" she asks, her voice filled with anticipation.

You nod eagerly, "Mhm." You wave at Officer Hicks, who salutes back to you, opening the gate for you and Tara to exit the walls. You and Tara start walking away from the community, stealing glances at each other every now and then.

"I actually have a surprise for you." You say, breaking the comfortable silence. Tara raises an eyebrow, looking at you. Curiosity sparkles in her eyes as she waits for you to reveal the surprise. "Well, remember how you mentioned you liked horror movies?" you begin, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"I found this abandoned movie theatre not too far from here. Ethan helped me clean it up and fix the projector. We can have our own private horror movie marathon today."

Tara's eyes widen with thrill as she realizes the surprise. "You're lying!" she exclaims, her smile matching your mischievous grin. The two of you quicken your pace, eager to reach the movie theatre and begin your thrilling movie night.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" You ask Tara in a Ghostface mask, trying your best to imitate the iconic killer from the Stab franchise. Tara giggles and playfully pretends to be scared, but then responds, "Hmm, I think I'll have to go with It Follows. Elevated horror is where it's at."

You take off the mask, tilting your head. "Really? Elevated horror? What about Friday the 13th? Jason is a classic." Tara shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Sure, Jason is iconic, but I prefer the psychological depth and thought-provoking themes of films like It Follows. It's all about the slow-burning suspense for me."

"You're lucky you're cute." Tara chuckles and playfully nudges you. "Well, I guess my good looks give me an advantage in our horror movie debates." She winks, teasingly adding, "But hey, maybe one day I'll convince you to appreciate elevated horror too."

"Blah, blah, blah." You say, walking further into the movie theatre, ending up at a snack bar. You lean against it as Tara continues her argument about elevated horror. "Jason is just a mindless slasher. It Follows actually makes you think and keeps you on the edge of your seat." Tara playfully sticks her tongue out at you, daring you to challenge her taste in horror movies.

Rolling your eyes, you retort, "Please, Tara. A classic slasher film like Friday the 13th is a timeless masterpiece. It's all about the thrill and suspense, not overanalyzing every single detail. But hey, I'll give It Follows a chance if it means shutting you up for once." Tara giggles, knowing that you're just playing along and secretly enjoying the ongoing debates between you two.

You turn around, facing the snack bar, and reach for the old and expired candy box, that's probably been there since before the apocalypse. Your heart skips a beat when Tara does the same, your hands touching.

You both exchange a quick glance, causing a slight blush to creep onto your cheeks. It's in these small moments that you realize there might be something more than just friendly banter between you and Tara.

"You can have them." You tell Tara, chuckling a bit. She smiles, placing the box of candy in your hand. "Take them." You shake your head, "No, uh," you interrupt yourself with your own laugh. "If you want them, you have them." You set down the box of candy in front of Tara, who quickly picks it up, holding it in front of you.

"You think I want these?" Tara raises an eyebrow playfully, her eyes sparkling. She breaks eye contact with you as you stare at her, a lingering smile on your face. "Kind of..."

"They're like one hundred years old." she jokes, setting them back down. "Maybe that's your thing," she mutters, finally glancing back at your eyes.

The two of you stare at each other, caught in a moment of playful tension. The air between you is charged with unspoken words and a hint of curiosity. It's as if time has momentarily frozen, allowing the anticipation to build. Both of you are aware of the unspoken connection, wondering where it might lead.

It's been a while since you've been truly happy with someone, so happy that your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, so lost in the trance of the woman in front of you. She was perfect. Her perfect hair, her perfect eyebrows, her perfect eyes, her perfect nose, her perfect lips. Everything about her seemed meticulously crafted to perfection.

You smile wider at yourself, glancing between her eyes and her lips. Tara's heart has never felt this alive, pulsating with newfound energy. She knows she's attracted to you, that much is sure, but there's something more than just physical attraction.

It's the way you listen intently to every word she says and the way you laugh at her jokes as if they're the funniest things you've ever heard. There's a connection between you that goes beyond surface-level beauty, and it's that deep emotional bond that truly sets you apart from anyone else she's ever met.

But she's also scared. She's scared to get attached to you more than she already is and lose you to the walkers that lurk in the shadows. The fear of losing you to something beyond her control haunts her, making her hesitant to fully embrace the connection she feels.

She knows that the world is unpredictable and filled with dangers, and the thought of losing you to those uncertainties terrifies her. It's not that she doesn't want to fully embrace the connection, but rather, she's grappling with her own vulnerabilities and the fear of being left alone in a world that feels increasingly unstable.

However, another part of her says to do it. Take the risk and allow her to be happy, even if it's just for a second. Tara takes a deep breath, "I actually—"

She's cut off by you connecting your lips with hers, and in that moment, all her fears and uncertainties melt away. The warmth of your embrace reassures her that maybe, just maybe, taking the risk was worth it after all. Her hands grip your face, pulling you closer if that were possible, you wrap your arms around her body, holding her tightly as if she's going to fade away.

As your lips part, an intoxicating sense of contentment lingers in the air. Tara stares into your eyes, a hint of tears reflecting the depth of her gratitude. In that electrifying moment, she realizes that she has found something she never thought possible—a passion that is boundless and worth every ounce of risk. With a smile curving on her lips, she whispers, "What took you so long?"

You chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I finally thought of that heartfelt thank you," you reply, your voice filled with bliss. Tara giggles, her laughter filling the air like music. "I can't believe you remember that."

She leans in closer, bringing you into another quick and simple kiss. When she pulls away, her eyes glance between yours, her hand trailing your facial features. "I'm scared of losing you."

You gently take her hand in yours, reassuringly squeezing it. "I promise you, Tara, I'm not going anywhere," you say sincerely, your voice filled with love and determination. She smiles softly, her fears momentarily eased by your words.

"I actually do have a question." You tilt your head, waiting for her to continue. "Was...Iris the only person you had before...the outbreak?" You pause for a moment, memories of the past flooding your mind.

"Kind of...yeah. It's always just been Iris and her family. I actually met Iris a few months after my adoptive mother passed away...she was the first person I connected with after such a difficult loss. We quickly became each other's support system, and we started dating a bit after that.." You pause, a bittersweet smile on your face, as you recall the bond you share with Iris. "I'm just glad she's okay."

Tara nods, her eyes filled with understanding. "Thank you for telling me." You appreciate Tara's empathy and the safe space she has created for you to share your story. It feels good to have someone who listens and understands without judgment.

"You're finally back!" Heather says, bursting through your front door. You turn toward Heather, a smile spreading across your face. "I am." Heather lets out a loud groan, "Then can you please watch Iris? I'm supposed to be hanging out with Amber."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's wrong with Iris?" You ask, concerned about Heather's sudden change in attitude towards Iris. Heather sighs and rolls her eyes, "She's sick, and she's been acting really cranky all day. I just need a break from her for a little while. So! Now that you're off your date with tiny Tara, can you watch her?"

You blush, "It wasn't a date," you mutter, not convincing Heather one bit. "But sure, I can watch Iris for a bit. Is there anything specific I should know or do while taking care of her?"

Heather shakes her head and says, "Not really, just make sure she takes her medicine and gets plenty of rest. She's been running a fever, so keep an eye on that too." You nod, assuring Heather that you'll take good care of Iris.

Heather exits your house, causing Amber to rise, "She said yes?" Amber asks her girlfriend, who nods in response. "Mhm," Amber continues, "I can't believe you're still trying to play cupid with Y/N and Iris. I'm pretty sure Y/N really likes Tara."

"Well, you never know. Sometimes feelings can change unexpectedly. Besides, Y/N did agree to take care of Iris, so maybe there's still a chance for them." Amber rolls her eyes playfully and says, "Sure, babe."

You knock on Iris's door, and a faint, "Come in." follows your knock. As you enter, you see Iris lying in bed, a wet washcloth on her forehead. You walk over to Iris and ask, "How are you feeling?" She looks up at you with a weak smile and replies, "I'm still not feeling great, but the washcloth is helping a bit." You sit down beside her and say, "I brought you some soup. Maybe it'll help you feel better."

You help her sit up, supporting her back with a pillow. Iris gratefully accepts the soup and takes a few spoonfuls, savoring the warmth and nourishment. She looks at you appreciatively and says, "Thank you so much for taking care of me." You smile and reassure her, "Of course, I'll always be here for you."

"Did Heather set you up to this?" She asks, a faint smile on her lips. You chuckle and shake your head, "Yeah, but still, I just wanted to make sure you're okay." Iris's smile widens, and she says, "Well, I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"Remember when Heather got sick and we all took turns taking care of her? It's nice to see that we have each other's backs." Iris says, not making eye contact with you. You start laughing, And it turns out she was faking the whole thing."

Iris's brows furrow, "What?" Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops. "Yeah, she admitted it later. I didn't know she didn't tell you." Iris's smile fades, replaced by a look of disbelief. "I can't believe she would do something like that. That's really messed up."

"I mean...she did have to run the mile that day, I'd do the same thing." You shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I guess we all have our own ways of avoiding running." Iris chuckles, shaking her head. "Yeah, but faking sick behind my back? That's a whole new level." You both laugh, finding peace in the moment.

Iris puts down her soup and stares at you. "You look happy." You smile back at Iris and reply, "Yeah, I guess I am. It feels good to just relax and have a laugh with you. You look like shit, though."

Iris chuckles and rolls her eyes. "Thanks, I appreciate the honesty. It's been a rough day." You nod sympathetically, understanding that it's because of her sickness. "Maybe you should try and sleep." You suggest, helping her lie back down. Iris sighs and nods, her eyes showing exhaustion.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I could use some rest." You tuck her in and dim the lights, creating a soothing atmosphere. "I'll stay here with you until you fall asleep," you offer, hoping to provide some comfort during her rough day.

"You could lay down too..." Iris mumbles, her voice trailing off as she starts to drift off. You hesitate for a moment, considering her suggestion, before deciding to join her. As you lie down next to her, you feel a sense of closeness and reassurance, knowing that your presence brings her some ease.

Iris places her head on your chest, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The sound lulls her into a deeper state of relaxation, and you can feel her tension slowly melting away. You gently stroke her hair, and mutter, "You better not get me sick."

Iris chuckles softly, her voice barely audible as she whispers, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you if that happens."

When Iris finally falls asleep, it's late at night. You slip from her grasp and leave, making your way to the inventory to see if there's any tea that could help her. Your heart drops when you see a figure standing in the dimly lit room, their back turned towards you.

They turn around quickly, and you let out a sigh, allowing yourself to relax. "Richie, you scared the hell out of me." Richie chuckles and apologizes, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to startle you." Your eyes fall to the basket in his hands.

He notices speaking up, "Gale asked me to get this." You hum, "Do you have any tea? Iris is sick." Richie nods sympathetically and says, "Yeah, yeah. Here." He reaches into the basket and hands you a small packet of tea. "I hope this helps," he says with a warm smile.

Richie then walks away, basket in hand, leaving you standing there, thankful and confused. Maybe he was the one who stole Ethan's snacks.

#reader insert #wattpad #tonyspank #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega fluff #tara carpenter scream #tara carpenter x g!p reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x gn!reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter fluff

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extremelyblackandwhite · 10 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

summary: sometimes the past haunts us

masterlist

- I just don’t agree with it.

Those words were the ones she feared the most. After sweating and crying over a draft of her thesis, one of her supervisors just threw the papers on the desk with as much disdain as someone could muster, without as much of an ounce of mercy. She stared at the papers on the desk, attempting to hide her watering eyes. She shouldn’t be crying, she had been expecting criticism but not an overall dismissal of 4 years of work.

- I’m gonna be honest, Y/N. After 4 years, I didn’t expect to read this sort of work from you. I don’t think we can actually pass this, Y/N. How would you defend this?

- I ... I can rewrite it.

- I honestly do not see it getting any better with a rewrite, Y/N. I’m still waiting on feedback from your other supervisor but I wouldn’t be too hopeful.

She didn’t know what to say, there were really no words or anything she could say right now that wouldn’t downright embarrass her. Her eyes were fully watered as she looked around the countless awards in her supervisor’s office. She used to think she’d once own as many, now she wasn’t as sure.

- We may have to keep you another year.

- But I’m not sure I have enough to cover costs for another yea ... - she stopped mid sentence as her phone started to buzz against her thigh. Looking down at the screen, she saw the all caps name of Sadie’s daycare. - I’m sorry, that’s my baby’s daycare.

She gave her supervisor a loop smile, bringing her phone to her ear only to hear a bunch of nonsense coming from the other side which could only roughly translate into how much they needed her to come down. Perfect, just perfect.

- I’m sorry, I need to go check on my baby.

- You know, Y/N, it may be time for you to check what your priorities are.

- I’m sorry, I’d ask her dad but he’s stuck in back to back meetings. I’m so sorry, I can’t leave her.

- We’ll schedule a meeting once your other supervisor is back.

- Thank you.

She rushed out of the campus and onto her car, drying her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper before driving down to Sadie’s school. Last thing she needed was parents commenting on her red eyes and blotchy skin, it was hard enough knowing her supervisor had seen her like this. Yet again, she wasn’t even sure that was the last thing she wanted as she walked into the dean’s office and found Sadie sitting in one of the kiddie chairs with a band aid on her knee and a crying face. Y/N didn’t know what was more disturbing, if her baby girl crying or Michelle sitting down with her snooty son.

- Oh, Y/N, it’s you. - she looked her up and down.

- Come on, darling. - Y/N ignored Michelle, leaning down to Sadie’s level. The little girl wrapped her arms around her, burying her head in Y/N’s hair. - Who else would it be, Michelle?

- I’m so sorry to call you in. It seems my boy got in a tussle with Sadie.

- Sure, a tussle. My kid has a bandaid on her knee and yours looks just peachy to me.

- She’s not your kid, Y/N. She’s Bucky’s or have you forgotten?

- Sure. - she rolled her eyes. - So what is it that you want Michelle? You want us to sort this out or you wanna flirt with my kid’s dad?

- Just wanted to make sure Sadie was okay.

- She’ll be fine.

Y/N really had better things to do other than deal with Michelle and her eagerness to see Bucky. Right now she was worried about Sadie who was following right after her, arms wrapped around her leg as she enjoyed the swing back and forward. Y/N always knew Michelle’s kid was no good and she wouldn’t be surprised if his mother even trained him to hurt Sadie so she could see James - although, that was the most irrational part of her speaking.

- Come here, squid. - Y/N leaned down to pick the 2 year old so she could place her safely in her car seat. - Did the nurse look at your knee?

- Yes. I gots the red band thingie, see. - she pointed at her knee.

- It’s a band-aid, Sissi. - Y/N clasped the buckles. - You’re being very brave.

- Can I watch Bluey?

- Alright but we can’t tell dad I let you use the tablet on the car, yeah? It’ll be our secret.

- Pinky? - she showed her au pair her pinky which just seemed to brighten her whole day. She nodded, wrapping her own pinky around hers before grabbing the IPad.

Truth was, she was glad her irritation at Michelle had made her forget of the terrible time she’d had at university. Sure, she was probably gonna raise some hell at the next PTA meeting, however, right now what Sadie needed was time and some happy things. As such, she turned left where she should’ve taken right, coming across the small park. Soon enough, the IPad playing Bluey was forgotten in the car as Sadie joined other kids in the playground, while Y/N took it upon herself to join the other mums on the benches watching over their own kids. It was peaceful, the sound of the kids laughter meshed with the sounds of the wind brushing through the trees and the birds chirping. It was nice, at least it was until her phone started ringing. It came as no surprise it was Bucky, Michelle had probably personally called him to somehow explain how her snooty kid hurt his daughter.

- Hello. - she said as she picked up the phone.

- Is Sadie alright? I got a call from her kindergarten saying some kid pushed her.

- She’s fine, Bucky. Scratch on her knee but she seems to have forgotten it’s even there.

- Are you sure? I can get out of work and we can drive her to the hospital and have it checked.

- Buck, it’s a scrapped knee. I’m sorry to tell you but she’ll have plenty of those as she grows up. - she smiled. - Don’t you have a meeting to go to?

- But ...

- Bucky, she’s fine. I think she may be trying to push a boy off a swing but other than that she’s a peach. - she got off from the bench to go and stand next to Sadie who was trying to get a turn at the swings. - Sadie do you wanna say hi to daddy?

- Hi daddy. - she took the phone from Y/N. - Bye daddy.

- That hurt. - Bucky said as Y/N got a hold of her phone before Sadie could run off with it. - We’re already at hi and bye? Soon enough it’ll go from daddy to dad.

- Go to your meeting, Sergeant. We’ll see you at home tonight.

- Are those orders?

- Strong suggestions.

- I’ll see you both tonight.

Bucky put his phone in his pocket, his brain still racketing about his daughter’s wellbeing while at the same time worrying about the back to back meetings that had left him with only 20 minutes to have lunch. 20 minutes which were interrupted by a call from his secretary saying someone needed to see him. He had barely even had time to take a bite from the cheap cafeteria sandwich and was now on his way to his office once more. The end to this day couldn’t come faster.

- Whoever’s waiting, send them in. - he said as he passed his secretary.

- Sergeant Barnes, she’s already in the office.

- What? - he turned around to face his secretary who usually was able to keep anyone and everyone at bay if necessary. - How did ...

- I have my ways. - the door opened from inside. - Besides, we are close.

- Anna?

(...)

There was no way in hell she could ever re-write this. If she was being honest she couldn’t see a major structural or even content flaw in her work. Besides, none of the feedback she received was constructive, it didn’t help her figure out what to do to make it better. Although, her supervisor was quite clear there was no way of making it better. Perhaps her other supervisor would have a better idea or maybe some constructive feedback.

- What are you working on, squid? - she looked to Sadie who looked just as serious about her drawing as Y/N was about her thesis.

Sadie ignored her, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she continued to make a mess of her crayons. Y/N sighed, smiling and ruffling the little girl’s hair as she got up from the kitchen table to grab them something to drink. Bucky had just pulled up on the garage so he’d soon be here for dinner so there was no use in preparing Sadie a snack. If she did, she just knew the toddler would use it as an excuse to have no dinner and munch on string cheese later on.

- DADDY! - she heard Sadie yell out. Good, it was finally time to eat.

- Let me look at your knee. - Bucky looked down at his daughter’s knee. - Are you okay? Does anything hurt?

- No. Y/N gave me another thingie.

- Band-aid, Sadie. - Y/N walked to the dinning table were Sadie was showing Bucky her band-aid. - Can you give me a hand bringing the cutlery and dinner to the table? I need to go to bed early today, Buck.

- Yeah, sure. You go and wash you hands, Sadie.

Sadie climbed down her chair and rushed to the bathroom while Bucky followed Y/N to the kitchen. He was in a surprisingly good mood considering he’d spent the whole day in meetings. Last time that happened, he didn’t even have dinner with them and instead went straight to his study, so this was a refreshing change of pace albeit a suspicious one.

- You’re happy. - she said as she took the cutlery from the cupboard. - Did you have a drink on your way in?

- I actually have good news.

- You had two drinks on your way in?

- I met with Sadie’s mum today. She wants to meet her, we set up a meeting tomorrow.

Oh. That’s why.

She couldn’t explain her, but her heart felt unexplainably tight.

- Oh ...

- Don’t worry, I’ll get her from school, I know that you’re gonna be at Columbia tomorrow.

- I’m not worried about that. - she sighed. Part of her was screaming not to give her opinion but she and Bucky were friends ... or at least they were friendly, and it looked as if he was waiting for her to say something. - Don’t you think it’s a bit soon?

- Soon? She gave birth to Sadie 2 years ago, I’d say a reunion is long overdo.

- I just think you should take it slow. She doesn’t have the best track record and if she leaves again, it might hurt Sadie.

- She’s ready, Y/N. - his tone shifted, turning avoidant.

- How do you know? She hasn’t tried to make contact in two years and what if she flakes at the last minute? How would we explain it to Sadie?

- We? - he crossed his arms. - Last I checked she is my daughter and you’re the person I pay to watch over her. I explain things to her and I make the decisions.

- Sadie took some time getting used to me, Buck.

- You’re not her mother!

- You don’t need to speak to me like that. - she set the cutlery and plates down on the kitchen counter. - I worry about Sadie and I worry that you’re rushing into this because of your obsession with giving Sadie a mother.

- You should worry about keeping your job if you continue talking.

Y/N’s mouth shut as she starred at him, eyebrows furrowed as if she couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth. They hadn’t had the best track record together, at least from the beginning where they were constantly clashing against each other, yet he had never threatened her job. She always felt confident enough to give her opinion where it seemed relevant.

- I am not hungry. Suit yourself.

Bucky was left with the tray of lasagna and the dishes to put on the table. At least that. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to find the dishes if he had too. Besides, she was overreacting. From his point, she had no right to talk about what was right and wrong when it came to Sadie’s mother. She needed a mother and if he could finally give her that he would. If he could give her a sense of normalcy, something that resembled the picket white fence, mum, dad, kid and the pet, he would. He’d do everything for her.

- Washed hands. - Sadie rushed into the kitchen, showing her dad her clean hands.

- That’s great, baby. Here take your plate to the table and I’ll bring the food.

- Don’t like lasagna. - she crossed her arms not to differently to how he had just done.

- What? You love when Y/N makes lasagna.

- Because of the song?

- What song?

- The lasagna song.

- Well ... - he kneeled to her height. - If you don’t eat your lasagna then I won’t give you the surprise.

- Surprise?

- Tomorrow ... - he tucked her hair behind her ear. - Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up from school and we’ll go to that coffee shop with the bunny cakes to meet your mum.

- I know my mummy, daddy. You’re being silly.

- She’s really excited to meet you. She even said she may bring some photos of when you were in her belly so she can see.

- I have a mummy already.

- Sadie, I know you really like Y/N but she is not your mum.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky/you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #single dad!bucky

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cosmerelists · 5 months

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Support Groups that are Needed in the Cosmere

[Spoilers throughout!]

Sure, Kaladin has invented therapy, but where are the highly specific, timeline-blind, Cosmere-spanning support groups that our heroes desperately need? Support groups like...

1. "My Parental Figure Tried to Murder Me and all I Got was this Stupid Trauma."

Vin: You grow up thinking your mom tried to kill you, but it turns out she was just spiking you to be controlled for an evil god. Vin: Not better. Charlie: Oh man, that's horrible! My dad just sent me to an evil sorceress he thought would kill me because I was just that embarrassing to him. Wax: My uncle, who raised me, tried to blow me up with my own butler! And that was just, like, the first murder attempt. Shallan (sweating): I really thought there'd be more "and I killed them back" by now.

2. "Kin-Killers Club Support Group"

Wax: Kin-Killer's...Club? Shallan: I thinks someone thought the alliteration would be jolly before realizing that this group probably shouldn't be. Raboniel: Some would claim that "kin-killing" must be specifically a blood relative, like a daughter, rather than a spouse. Dalinar: ...should I go? Wax: No, no, I think wives definitely count as family! Vin: How do we feel about in-laws? Father-in-law? Brother-in-law? Shallan: Hey, it's all trauma. Kaladin: What if you didn't kill your brother exactly but you feel like it's definitely your fault and the guilt eats you alive? Wax: Yeah, nixing the jolly alliteration was definitely a good idea.

3. "I Did Not Enjoy Being Enslaved"

Kaladin: I think, for me, the worst part was that by the time I had fallen that low, I kinda felt like I deserved it. For not protecting people. Kaladin: I think that's why I kept my slave brands for so long. Rlain: I never thought I deserved it. None of my people did. Crow: Hey, why is this group's name in the past tense? Some of us are STILL enslaved to the big stupid dragon, you know!

4. "Dead Brother Gang"

Kaladin: Uh, Shallan? Is it awkward to have me here? Shallan: Eh, it's okay. Narratively, I got over you killing my brother really quickly! Shallan: Sorry he killed, like, all of your friends. Kaladin: I think that's trauma for a different support group. Shallan: Ha ha yeah! I've been to so many it's hard to keep track. Jasnah: If the two of you are finished, perhaps the rest of us could also talk about our deceased brothers now? Llarimar: Uh, is it okay if our brother died but then later came back to life? His death was still, like, very sad. Marsh: Of course. Even brothers who don't remain dead can be grieved. Marsh: ...Sometimes they manage to annoy you more.

5. "Horses Suck So Much--Why Doesn't Anyone Else See It?"

Kaladin: ... Vin: ... Kaladin: Vin: ... Kaladin: I really thought we'd get more people. Vin: Me too!

6. "Killed Off For Another Character's Development"

Evi: I know my death gave my husband such a powerful backstory but...it would have been nice to be in the main narrative. Vin's mom: Hey, at least you got a name. Parlin: It sucks, but it must be nice that you were grieved, at least! Parlin: People are like, why was Parlin even a character? Kelsier: (sighs) Yeah, our deaths may help the main character grow...but at what cost? Evi (low voice): Are we sure he qualifies?

7. "I Really Thought That Guy Was Cool and then He Almost Murdered Me and I Felt Kind of Stupid"

Vivenna: Turns out you CAN'T trust mercenaries, even if they seem jolly. Shallan: Some men who bring you jam and bread are...bad. Siri: Even nerds can be evil. Hrathen: Sometimes the crazed, violence-prone, deeply unstable underling you think you can control for your own purposes turns out to be crazy, violent, unstable, and murderous. Vivenna: ... Shallan: ... Siri: ... Hrathen: What?

7. "Wronged By Hoid"

Kelsier: Ugh, that jerk. Punched me in the face. Sigzil: Abandoned me in the Bridge Crew. Not to mention that I have to run forever now, thanks to him. Jasnah: "Wronged" is perhaps strong, but I will say that he is not the ideal boyfriend. Riina: That son-of-bitch kicked me off of a perfectly fine planet! Amarem: He was quite rude to me, once. Or many times. Hoid: It's all so true. I get myself into SO much trouble sometimes. Hoid: Is there any greater victim of Hoid...than Hoid himself? Kelsier: YOU CAN'T BE HERE

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Vin #Charlie #Hoid #Shallan #Kaladin #Evi #Wax #Kelsier #Sigzil #Amarem #Riina #Vivenna #Siri #Parlin #Hrathen #Crow #Marsh #Jasnah #Llarimar #Dalinar

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agoodfictitle-shadowban · 6 months

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From Vormir, With Love - Part 6

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Tags: strangers to lovers, love in space angst on earth, slavery mention, alien abduction, post Endgame, survivor guilt, suicide ideations, will add as we go on

Summary: As you're being chased you crash on Vormir. So far, so bad. But things take a turn when you come face to face with a marooned Black Widow.

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: it's hard to realize how fast time goes by sometimes. Also i know some people are asking for a tag list but i kinda lost track so i'm sorry but i won't make one i think :/

You go back to Clint's the same day, late at night, in the car you borrowed while everyone else went to Tony Stark's funeral. Your dad's words are still resonating inside your mind, despite trying your hardest to ignore them. You don't know what to do, or what decision to make. Lucky for you, something is there to distract you when you arrive in the form of the lights being on on the porch of the house. You frown; it's almost 2am, so you expected everyone to be asleep at this point. But no. You recognize the redhead sitting on the bench and a slight wave of worry washes over you. Why was she still awake? Did something happen? You exit the car and close the door as silently as you can before you join the spy on the porch. She's holding a beer in her hands, and you guess it's not her first one seeing a few empty vessels are down on the windowsill behind her.

"Did something happen?"

Natasha looks up at you with a questioning eye at your worried tone, then it dawns on her she must look pretty miserable, so she shake her head to answer you.

"No, nothing happened. Just… grieving. It feels weird after arboring so much hope." The high of hoping to see their plan succeed against the cost of it. She clears her throat that started to constrict again, and offers you the seat next to her. "Care to join me?"

You agree, and she grabs a bottle to give to you from the cooler on the other side of the bench. You take it and open it in one swift move. She bring her bottle closer to yours for a small toast.

"To saving the world, and the heroes we lost."

"To coming back to a life you don't want," you answer in kind.

You clink your bottles together. Both of you drink. There is a lull in the night that you both enjoy, before you break the silence first. You're hesitant at first.

"You know… for what it's worth, I'm really sorry. It must be really hard."

She sighs after taking a swig of the beer. It stings, the loss, but more so, the what ifs. What if she'd been there, what if she could have saved him. Obviously, it likely wouldn't have changed the final result, but maybe, just maybe… she lets out a sigh.

"Sorry about your reunion with your parents. Sounds like it didn't go so well." She prefers to change the subject. No point in wallowing now. You take the change of topic gracefully, understanding she wishes to talk about something else.

"It went well, actually. We're having a barbecue on sunday. You and the crew are invited."

She snorts, then raises an eyebrow when she realizes you're serious. She tilts her head and pinches her lips. "You know what? Sure, I'll be there. Maybe I can go as your date," she offers with a wink.

Your heart skips a beat at those words and you blink a few times. Your date? Wait, is she serious? You look at her, trying to read her and make sure you're not hallucinating. There is a bit of a blush on her cheeks, but you quickly attribute it to her drinking. She's probably just slightly drunk and teasing you, you reason before you roll your eyes.

"Sure, why not," you answer, now certain that there's nothing serious there. "Just get ready 'cause my mom is going to ask you a lot of questions."

"I faced death and came back, I'm sure I can deal with her. I'm very charming."

You both laugh and you shake your head, drinking more of your beer. You were glad to see that at least she could still laugh even on this heavy day. You have no idea that it's because she feels so much lighter now that you agreed to have her be your date, after she got to reflect on the fleeting nature of life some more, and finally decide to take the plunge one way or another.

"Well, as charming as you are, I think I need to get some rest," you admit with a yawn that you hide behind your hand, your eyes watering with your need to sleep. It is 2am after all. It makes Natasha smiles at how cute you are, right as she nods.

"Alright, I'll join you soon. Oh, and careful in the living room, someone is sleeping on the sofa."

"Explains what you're doing outside." You put your hands on your knees, ready to get up.

"Truthfully? I was also waiting for you," she admits with a slight blush. You're surprised at the admission and almost lose your balance trying to get up. You almost can't believe your ears, but as usual, you decide to ignore the way her words make you feel. You turn around to look at her and try to not notice the way the pink of her cheeks makes you want to caress them and lean forward to kiss her, or how fragile she suddenly looks from where you're standing.

"You were?"

"Someone had to tell you we had another guest." She arches a teasing eyebrow. There is another reason, not so obvious to you, but she likes to keep you on your toes. You laugh behind your hand and nod.

"Obviously. Alright. Good night, Natasha."

She smiles at you, it is more tender than anything she ever said to you so far. "Good night. And thank you for checking on me."

"Anytime."

You then disappear inside the house, careful not to wake up the sleeping form on the couch, and go to your room. You easily fall asleep, and after you do, you're joined by a sleepy redhead who, after a minute of internal debate, finds a way into your arms. After all, you said yes to a date with her, didn't you?

You frown as you awaken, feeling something tickling your face. You scrunch up your nose and get your face out of… what was it even? You opened an eye only to be met with red and blond hair everywhere up in your face. That's when you notice that Natasha is in your arms, keeping you warm and cozy and, oh god you're blushing like crazy now that you notice what your hand is. You quickly take it off and get a groan from the smaller woman.

The sound of protest makes you blush even more, so you decide to find a way out of there really fast, or as fast as you can considering that extracting yourself without waking the woman is as easy as taking a bear cub from its mama bear. But, against all odds, you succeed and leave for the bathroom. There, you take the time for your heart to calm down and your blush to recede before heading downstairs.

How did you end up in that position? You aren't particularly cuddly during the night, at least not accidentally, so something must have happened. You just hoped Natasha didn't notice anything.

When you arrive downstairs, you notice that you're not the first one awake. There is a woman with long red hair there too, and you recognize Wanda Maximoff. She must have been the surprise guest who was staying on the sofa last night. You offer her a nod.

"Hi. Y/n," you introduce yourself.

"Wanda," she goes, and you grab some of the coffee she made. She seems lost in her thoughts, and you notice the rim of red around her eyes, like she cried. You're unsure about what to do before you take a seat opposite from her.

"I'm sorry for your loss," you try, and it startles her. She scoffs.

"Everyone keeps saying that, it doesn't feel like it means anything anymore." You nervously wet your lips and play with your mug. She's not done. "You don't even know me, you know nothing of my grief."

She's being a bit of an ass, but you decide it was okay considering she looks at the end of her life.

"I don't, you're right. Doesn't mean I can't feel your sorrow and want to take a chunk of it away for you."

"Is that what it is? Or is it just pity?"

With those words, she stands up, jaw set and tears filling her eyes. She leaves the room, and you sigh. You have no idea what she's going through, and you feel bad for her, but there is nothing you can do about it. You stay in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, when Clint joins you. He notices Wanda is missing and sends you a questioning look in case you know anything.

"I tried to be civil," you simply say, and with a frown, he goes outside to try and comfort Wanda. Once again, you stay inside. Clearly you're not close enough to be of any help whatsoever, no matter how bad you feel for the woman.

Lucky for you, you don't have to think about it much longer when other people start to pour inside the kitchen. Apparently being able to properly rest is conducive to getting up early. You make small talk while you drink your coffee peacefully, until Natasha shows up.

You blush upon remembering the way you woke up, and try to act natural when she comes and sits next to you.

"Good morning," she says your way after greeting everyone else, her hand ghosting over your thigh briefly. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest and you tense slightly, awaiting the contact, but it never comes. Feeling your tension, Natasha decides against touching you. Maybe it was too soon for you, and she doesn't want to push you. "How are you doing?"

You force yourself to relax slightly, and a smile comes naturally when you answer her.

"Pretty good, but I don't think the new girl likes me."

"Give her time. She needs to heal first." You nod at Natasha's wisdom, even if you have no idea what she's talking about.

"I guess Tony mattered a lot to her, huh."

"Not really. It's more complicated than that. Don't worry about it too much." And with that, she captures your hand briefly. You can only nod in answer, and breathe again when she lets go of the contact. You immediately miss it and the way it makes you feel. The conversation from yesterday comes back to you and you think it's a good idea to actually ask what she meant when she offered to be your date, especially since you agreed.

"On another note," you start, "what did you–"

Before you can ask anything more a crashing sound came from outside and you both immediately stood up ready to fight. June comes running and turns to Natasha.

"Your friend is losing it, you need to do something."

"I need to go save Clint's ass. Talk later?" She offers and you nod, dumbfounded. Seems like you actually could have gotten in a lot of troubles by upsetting Wanda.

"Yeah, definitely. Hum, good luck. I feel like you might need it."

Natasha smirks, then puts her game face on before she goes through the door. There is a beat of silence between you and June before you decide that you might as well ask her opinion.

"So, I have a question," you start very hesitantly. Your friend gets her hand up almost in your face, as if she already knows what you're about to ask.

"Don't bother, I already know."

"You do?" You arch an eyebrow, and it doesn't stop June.

"You need to bang it out with superspy."

You sputter, blush, frown, and look at the woman in front of you.

"What the hell June?!"

"What? Don't tell me it wasn't about her!"

"It was, but come on!"

"I said my piece then." You bang your head on the table, and June looks out the window to see how the situation is going. She sees she still has time to keep going and sits opposite from you. "Okay, just, listen, I think she likes you, and I know you like her! Don't let it go to waste. We lost enough of our lives like that."

Of course, June has a point, whether you like it or not. You feel something for Natasha, but you're too scared to act upon it, and if she feels the same - which you doubt - she isn't going to wait forever for you, so you have to act. Or at least ask if you're right to doubt there is anything there instead of assuming. Be brave. You owe it to her.

"Alright, alright," you concede with a sigh. "I'll talk to her."

"Finally." She looks up at the sky in silent thanks and you roll your eyes at her theatrics. You decide it's time to give her a bit of a heart attack in turn.

"How is it going with Carol, by the way?" You ask in turn, a smirk adorning your lips. A very light blush takes root on her cheek. Got her.

Her answer comes in the form of a finger.

"Do you need some help with that?" You offer when you catch Natasha alone in your bedroom.

You came upstairs to tell her food is ready, and she was taking care of a cut in her back. Calming down Wanda went poorly, and even if she seemed apologetic after the facts, it wasn't going to heal the redhead's bruises. It was unfair, but you understood that grief could make you do crazy things.

"I could do with some help." Her admission is small.

You approach Natasha slowly and sit on the bed next to her, a leg under you, grabbing the first aid kit for some disinfectant and gauze. Carefully, she surrenders the material she's holding on the side of the kit and turns around so her back is facing you. You look at her skin which is peppered with scars, and you can only imagine all she went through. All the hurt, all the trauma, everything that led to her being in front of you right now, so vulnerable.

You start your work carefully. You learned how to take care of cuts and bruises during your travels.

"Do you ever wish you could take someone's place?" She asks you in the religious silence. There is a tremor in her voice that clues you in how serious the conversation is. You swallow your jokes and answer truthfully.

"The first few months after the abduction I did. Then I realized it meant someone else would be in my place so I stopped."

"I do. To take off the pain from my friends." Her words made no sense at first, but as you thought about it, you realized she is talking about lessening the pain of Wanda. Taking the place of her lover who died long ago now, but only moments before for the witch. Carol told you everything in a way only someone who wished they had been there could.

"Displacing people's grief wouldn't really lessen the pain. Just make it different."

"I still think I could have… maybe if I stayed…"

She can't bring herself to finish her sentence, but you understand. If she were dead maybe things would be different.

She hangs her head low. You sigh, almost groan at her truth. You finish patching her up, and lay your hand against her back. Against her scars. Her past laid bare against your palm.

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here with us." With me, you don't add but still think so loudly you're sure she can hear you. If she understands the subtext, she says nothing about it.

"Thank you," she simply answers, still looking away, but relaxing against your touch. It's a moment of vulnerability, but more importantly of trust. It lasts until a shiver runs along her spine with the cold. She smoothly puts back her shirt and you put your hand away. She gets up, and when she turns around, she has a shy smile directed at you.

"I can smell the food, should we join everyone?" She extends a hand towards you, and you take it. In a swift move, she helps you up and brings you against her in a hug. "Thank you."

You hold her, hum when she rubs her nose against your neck, your heart ready to burst. You wish for this moment to last forever against your better judgment.

Damn you're in deep.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha #fvwl #natasha imagine #idk how to tag

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loving-and-dreaming · 1 year

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like our father j.p

James Potter x reader

A look at your relationship with James through the eyes of your daughter.

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n please be kind☺️ I’m trying to get better ❤️

James and you were sitting on the couch talking about how great your days have been. He worked and finished a big project with Sirius, and you got everything done off your checklist and aced your meeting. All of the happy talk stopped when the front door slammed open. In comes your little angel Noelle, and her bigger sister Maydalyin. In an instant Noelle stomps up the stairs and slams her door. James looks to you then you both look to May, hoping she has some answers as to why your little angel is clearly upset. “May, love, can you tell your mom and I what has made Noelle so clearly upset?” James asks in his normal soft and caring tone.

“Well at school today, she asked some boy to be her valentine with a note she worked really hard on. She even asked her teacher to teach her cursive to write his name. He said no and ripped up the valentine infront of her and threw it on the ground. It didn’t help that it was in front of everyone at recess. He also went back to his friends and they all started to laugh at her...” May sits down next to you and curls up into you, she may not be your little angel anymore but she will always be your angel, and explains with a sad look on her face. Your heart breaks for your little girl and clearly James' heart because he goes to get up. But May sat up straight, “dad could I try talking to her first. I think I know why all this happened and I think I know what to say.”

“Of course, bug. What makes you think you know why it happened?” You asked her in a soft voice as well, unsure of what she is going to say.

May sighed because she feels like her sister is her responsibility and feels like she failed her “Well she saw the valentine Jake got me, and asked me what it was. So I told her when you like someone on Valentine’s Day you give them a card and sometimes small gifts. She asked how you know what to do, and I just told her that you think of the person and what they like and that’s how you know. I didn’t think she was going to try it! She just seemed curious.” Knowing how serious May takes her older sister's responsibilities, you both decide to let her try to see if they can work through it without your help. Much like all older siblings, May likes to think everything is her fault, James and you make sure to tell her that’s not the case, but it’s something she enjoys doing. Her and Noelle are best friends even though they are 8 years apart.

May slowly walks up the steps, debating the two ways to go about this. Explaining how boys are gross and she needs to wait or explaining how to look for the right kind of boy. She really doesnt think the first one will be beneficial. So it looks like she is going to go with how to find the right guy(praying she doesn’t go looking anytime soon ). May takes a deep breath before knocking on Noelles door. Peaking in before she fully walks in, she hears no signs of disagreement and takes this as a good sign. Of course the first thing she notices is Noelle on the bed and gives her a small smile, she only gets a small hmmmm in reply. Looking around the room is a blast from the past everytime she comes in here. She and her sister are so close that a lot of Mays old stuff is now Noelles, not because they live off hand me downs but because that's what noelle wants. And in this house her parents make sure they know the value of something, not by how much it costs but by how much it means to you. Her barbie posters on the wall, her small vanity set where mom taught her learned how to do her hair for the daddy daughter dance at school, her old bed that she marked M+K for May plus ken from barbie, her old pink bedspread that the dog ripped but dad learned to sew to patch it back up because she didn't want to live without it. This room holds so much history, but also so many new things. The most important thing is her baby sister sniffling on her bed right now.

Out of nowhere Noelle cries “I just wanted a boyfriend like you! Jake is so good to you, he even takes care of me too and gets mom and dad presents all the time! I want that too!”

Once again taking a breath and sitting down next to her sister, “Woah noelle, when I was your age, I didn't have a boyfriend. But I also know how frustrating that statement is. So instead of just saying that, how about I tell you how I found the right one?” With a nod from her sister she begins to tell a story…

You just picked up May from school and were on your way home. James should still be at work when you both get home, so in the car you and her are making plans to surprise him. “Momma can we cook him smiley face pancakes, like you and daddy make on my birthday?”

“Sure bug, should we do it with chocolate chips or with blueberries?”

“CHOCOLATE CHIPS MOMMA, DUHHHH!”

“Okay chocolate chips, anything else?”

“Can I draw him a picture when the pancakes are cooking?”

“Of course you can, bug.” by now you both were pulling into the driveway to see James car already there. However this is not too unusual because at lunch, he and his best friend Sirius (who happens to be Mays Godfather along with his husband, Remus) come home and eat at the house. Then they carpool back together in Sirius’ car. After work he rides home with Sirius as well, because to get to his house, Sirius can drive the back way by your house. Therefore in both your head and Mays nothing was wrong. But when you walked in all that changed.

The smell of spaghetti(the family's favorite meal), the sound of music, and the sight of the clean laundry all put away and not on the couch where you left it shocked you. May took off to the kitchen screaming for James while you rebooted for a moment. Taking in the smell of dinner already cooking, the chores you knew you had waiting back at home already done, and most importantly your husband and daughter home and happy propel you forward. Walking past all the clean clothes, you take a look at the picture on the wall. It is your wedding day, little things like this remind you that on that day, even though you both were so young, you made the right choice. Being with James has never been a hassle, yes you fight but in the end he is your other half. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you finish walking into the kitchen when May yells out for you to hurry. When you walk in the next scene almost brings you to tears, there in the middle of the kitchen is James holding May and May is holding a bouquet of red roses. She wriggles and turns clearly wanting down so James sets her down, and she runs to you as fast as her little legs can carry her. Squatting down to reach her level you engulf her in your arms and whisper to her that you might have to surprise daddy another day. She ignores your comment and proceeds to shove the roses in your face telling you they are from daddy, once you have them she takes back off to James. Just then you see her holding a smaller bouquet of pink roses and smile at James. Slowly walking over to James and your daughter you hug them both and say with a hushed tone “Thank you my love. I love you-”

“I love you too daddy!”

“Yes sorry May and I love you James. This is a wonderful way to come home. Thank you so much my love. This is exactly what I needed today. Thank you for dinner and for finishing the laundry and for the flowers! They are wonderful and we love them, right bug?” May nods really fast and tries to get into your arms wanting to smell both bouquets at the same time.

“Well I know you woke up upset and still had all the chores to do when you were done with errands and picking May up from preschool so I wanted to remind you how much I love you and appreciate all you do around the house and for us on a daily basis. So you deserved to be spoiled and of course I couldn't forget my bug,” he leans in and kisses her face all over making her giggle. “I'm glad you like the roses and upstairs there is the stuff for a small spa time and I will finish dinner. I love you both and go have fun.” He leans in to kiss you and kisses your daughter's head one more time. Then he pushes you towards the stairs with one more I love you.

“Okay so dad got mom flowers, big deal.”

“You are missing the point Noelle. I knew what guy was the right guy by seeing how dad treats mom. Think about it, dad still surprises mom with flowers and spa days for us girls, and they have been married over 10 years and have two kids. He loves her and always surprises her with flowers and other things. What about the notes! I remember the first time I saw the note to her, I mean we always get notes in our lunch, but did you know they write notes to each other as well? Thinking back it was totally not appropriate but, like most things, it went right over my head,\.”

“No… what kinda notes?”

“All different kinds, some on post its around the house, others on the mirror after a shower or bath. One day…”

Making May and Noelles lunch is something you weirdly like doing. Knowing how similar but different your daughters are. However you never do it alone. James is always in there making breakfast while you make their lunches, both girls still asleep. Finishing up with the food, you move on to your favorite part. It is something silly you and James started doing when you were just dating. Leaving little notes in each other's lunches or frankly all over the place. Your personal favorite is the notes in the lunches. You always surprise him with a new note. In the middle of writing the last note James pulls you flush against him. Catching on to what he is wanting you start to sway in his arms.

In a soft voice you remind James that if he ignores the eggs they will burn and you all will be late to school and him late to work. “Eh, the girls won't care about a little black in their eggs, and the bacon will be a little crispy. Let me have a moment just the two of us.” Your kitchen is not huge by any means, but big enough to do a few circles in. Dancing is a huge thing in your house. It most likely stems from the fact that dancing is something James and you did all the time before the girls. Now that you have the girls dancing is still a huge part of your lives. Whether it's dancing in a circle, or dancing close with just one or both of the girls. For the record both of you love your daughters with your entire being, but you never really got to be a married couple before children. So these little moments where it is just the two of you are rare treasures. Just dancing close to each other without music, sometimes with music. Typically it will be early in the morning or late at night when you get these moments. Your house always has dancing(like we said it's a big thing in the Potter house), giggling, and sometimes music. Today however it was the quiet before the storm. No music. No girls. No crazy giggles. Just soft smilies and loving eyes. Closing your eyes and just feeling the moment with James, you know it will end soon so both of you just soak up as much of it as possible. The alarm goes off letting you know it was time to wake up the girls. With a groan you leave the comfort of your husband's arms to go wake up the monsters you call children. Walking back down the stairs you see breakfast is all done and James finished packing the girls lunches. Rushing over you want just one more moment in the comfort of James’s arms, giving him a kiss you quickly part when you hear the sound of little feet running down the stairs. With a look to James you both prepare for your calm morning to turn hectic.

Time skip to the end of the day

Getting home with both girls, one from school and the other from daycare, is in one word: crazy. May grabs her stuff, with your help, in the meantime you balance a baby on your hip while carrying in her stuff and Mays stuff she couldn't grab. May runs up ahead of you and makes her way up the steps. Not even a moment later she is hollering for you, you tell her to have patience and you are coming. When you arrive you notice a note taped on the door. May is already rambing and telling you all the possibilities of what it could be. She tries to jump up to grab it, but it is a bit too high,, so you pull it off to read, “I will always be by your side. Or under you, or on top of you, or behind you on my knees for you”, you go bright red at the note, of course you know who it's from and you understand the note, but you have a child jumping up and down wanting to know what it says. Before you could stop her, May quickly grabs the note out of excitement. You are not too worried, seeing as she can read but those innuendos are going to go over her head. In her mind her daddy just wrote a nice note to mommy and now she knows what she will be doing until dinner time. She is already listing off everyone she is going to write notes to: you, James, Noelle, her friend, her teacher, her babysitter, her two godfathers uncle siri and uncle us(this is what the girls still call remus because May couldn't say Remus so she settled for us and it just kinda stuck). Once you open the door she is off to go write all her notes.

“So you see Noelle, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how good dad is to mom.”

“You mean how he is always telling her that she's like wine, getting better with age? Or how he tells her every morning how hot she is. Which by the way is kinda weird…”

“Exactly! And you will get used to it, it is a daily occurrence. But also don't you see how he always kisses her on the forehead whenever one of them leaves a room. Their love started with friendship and that is how it lasted so long. I remember Uncle Us and Siri telling us all the funny stories from before they were even together!”

Noelle sits up feeling a bit better and mentions “Oh wait or how every Friday is date night, sometimes with us but sometimes on their own! And how on game nights he always lets her win, you think they'd let their children win, but nooooo it's always mom winning.”

“See you get it now. There is one more story I have to share with you and you should remember it because it was only two years ago!” Before May finishes her statement Noelle Leans up against her and they cuddle while May tells the story of their last road trip.

Planning a road trip when you have two daughters and pets is a hard skill. But James is such a big help. He got Sirius and Remus to watch the dogs and house while you both picked the different camp sites you wanted to stay at and all the attractions you wanted to see in the area. Now all that is left is packing. Which is where you shine and honestly take over, the one time he was in charge of packing he forgot all of the medicine and you had to turn back around. This is the first road trip since they were little little, and you hate to admit it but you are struggling a bit. Of course your lovely husband knows this and makes fun of you the entire time. He comes into the living room where you have everything set out and says with laughter in his voice “ you made fun of me when I forgot the medicine but how do we plan to eat if you leave all of the cooking supplies here! And not to mention the clothes, y/n we need more than two pairs of underwear for a ten day camping trip.”

“Oh hush James, I was on it. At least I didn’t forget the medicine that you know keeps us alive,” you throw one of the pairs of underwear at him and stick your tongue out at him. Being the goofball that he is, he sees an opportunity and takes it, he surges forward and bites your tongue then moves to kiss you. What neither of you realized is that the girls were standing on the stairs watching the whole thing.

Eventually everything was packed and everyone was safely in the RV. James is driving, you are sitting upfront with him trying to find some good tunes to listen to when driving while the girls chill in the back playing a board game. You find what you wanted and land on Billy Joel, both of your favorites and start belting out the lyrics together. The girls are horrified and call you both oldies and to play some real music. To which James and you both flipped them off and told them this is real music! The rest of the drive was filled with lots of singing and giggles.

Once you all arrive at the first campsite, everyone's a little tired. James pulls in and before anyone else can move he hops out to open your door and the girls door and bows like the weirdo he is. He helps all of you down while kissing all of your hands. You would think he would be upset being the only boy, but this man takes it in stride and treats all of you like royalty. He gives the girls the job to find some good firewood while the two of you set up for dinner. The first night dinner is going to be the classic hotdogs on a stick with marshmallows as dessert. After the good food and last laughs the girls call it a night and go to their bunk. James and you stay out cleaning up and just enjoying each other's company. Of course in the beautiful simplistic atmosphere of the campsite you have to do what you do best. Dance together with no music. Again this is not the dancing and laughter filled dance parties you have with the girls. No, this is simple and soft. He is swaying you two to the wind and humming softly in your ear. This quiet yet loving moment reminds you of prom and how you danced at prom together before you even were together together. Again you have some stinkers for children that like to get out of bed and spy on mom and dad. May and Noelle are watching you and James from the window by their bunk. Both of them wish for a relationship just like their parents.

“So here is the thing, Noelle. It took me forever to find Jake. But now that I have he treats me just like a queen and royalty. Not because I told him to but because I saw how dad treats mom and I found a guy that treats me the same way.”

James and you turned the tables on the girls and are now spying on them. Listening to May lay out your life like that has you leaning into James’s side and kiss his chest. You love your family. You love your husband. You love not only how treats you but how he treats your kids. He is your love and your heart is breaking for your baby girl, but you have a good feeling about the talk May and her just had. You are so lucky to have an amazing husband and even better children.

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