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ashleyh713fanfics · 29 days

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Dazai X Odasaku!Sister CH13

Chapter 13: "Celebrating Life Is Stupid”

Summary: After reuniting and growing closer, Dazai and Oda’s sister truly realize the value of each other and the sad bandaged boy falls deeper into the dangerous fascination and infatuation that is Odasaku’s little sister.

Warnings: pm!sixteen year old Dazai, pm! sixteen year old chuuya, ginger is very angry, Suicide mentions, guns, manipulation on both sides, Odasaku death mentions, Dazai being a Simp, Dazai being the demon prodigy but also baby at the same time.

(This is chapter thirteen of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro (Broken up because the first ch is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 6k total

—-

Tapping his feet in already brewing annoyance, Chuuya pushed his phone closer to his ear as each ear grating ring pissed him off by the second. And honestly, by the third one he debated throwing the entire object into the wall next to him in a fit of frustration.

He knew that little mackerel was doing this on purpose, sending his calls to voicemail over and over again. That guy never had anything notable going on and he knew the boss was gonna have his ass if he didn’t get in contact with that little shit.

But fortunately, or rather unfortunately for him, the line picked up on the fifth ring only to hear that same happy go lucky, irritating sing-song tone he alway seemed to use.

He hated that sound more than anything, mostly because the ginger he was about to be made fun of. “Oh Chuuuuuya, what an impatient little dog you are, blowing up my phone like this. Can't get enough of me I see.”

Gritting his teeth to hold his outburst, Chuuya simply scoffed. “Shut up, it's your own damn fault for not picking up. I know you are doing it on purpose, you shitty little mackerel.”

The voice on the other hands only hummed though, obviously unbothered. “So rude, Chuuuya, assuming such things. I am actually very busy right now. Which is why your interruption is way less pleasant than usual. And that’s saying something, considering your presence is never pleasant.”

Chuuya knew better though. “Bullshit, you’re never busy. You’re probably just fucking around somewhere.”

Just then, he heard a fake ass gasp on the side of the phone only for Dazai to answer straightforwardly. “If you call “fucking around” me currently pinning down a beautiful woman then I suppose you're right about that. Isn’t that right, love?”

Almost immediately, the ginger felt bile work its way into his throat, shoving the feeling down before shouting back roughly. “Ah, you’re so fucking disgusting! I don’t wanna know about that shit.”

Oh my god, why did he have to bring up that kind of stuff?! The last thing he wanted to do was picture shitty stupid Dazai like that, especially with some nonamed whore or brain dead manipulated bitch.

That poor soul that was with him right now, the one Dazai just called love, he pitied her, whoever she was.

Forcing the idea from his mind, Chuuya then shook his head before adding. “Listen, the boss gave us another mission in a couple days and I wanna make sure you don’t try to ditch again or else I’m gonna kill you for real, got that?!”

He knew the kid’s pattern after all, Chuuya knew how flighty and unreliable that stupid mackerel really was and he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to get dragged into that again. The first time he flaked was bad enough.

But as expected, Dazai didn’t sound serious, he didn’t even sound remotely interested in his threats as the boy simply waved the question away. “Don’t worry slug, I’ll be there. Can’t have my dog getting lonely, now can I?”

At that name, Chuuya felt his anger spike, the boy unable to stop his outburst. What was his damn problem?! “You fuckin…I’m not a dog!!’

Dazai’s voice only came back confused though, his voice just as annoying, cheerful and mocking as usual. “How strange, all I can hear is woof woof woof so I’m gonna hang up now! See ya, Chibi.”

And just like that, the line turned dead, causing the ginger’s eye to twitch before tightening his hold on his phone before giving into the impulse and throwing the object against the wall next to him.

Watching the phone shatter to prices before his eyes, Chuuya then shook his head before grumbling out his frustrations to absolutely no one.

“I’m gonna kill him..”

——-

Closing his flip phone absentmindedly, Dazai simply smiled to himself before placing the object back into his pants pocket only to hear the voice underneath him speak out hopefully. “Was that Chuuya?”

The boy only shook his head though, pushing his foot further into the speakers chest in order to shove his enemy further into the ground roughly. “Don’t sound so happy about it. That slug shouldn’t gain such a reaction.”

His opponent only put her hands out in defense though, turning her head curiously to the side with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Dazai expected that kind of response though, his eyes moving up in order to glance around the familiar port mafia owned warehouse that they had spent the last hour or so before she spoke again.

And this time, it was far more pushy than before. “Sooo, what did he say?”

Already feeling his lips twist into a bitter smirk, Dazai’s foot then pushed deeper into her chest, exulting double the amount of force in order for her to stop speaking. “Those aren’t the kinds of things you should be worried about, Asa-chan, considering the position you're in right now..”

Which was something that Asagao seemed to be missing in her tiny little brain considering he was currently pinning her down to the dirty and dusty warehouse floor by his foot. He clearly had the upper hand here so there was no reason for her to speak so casually.

That, and the fact that she was asking about Chuuya of all people in this sort of dangerous position caused Dazai’s sick and twisted port mafia heart to darken with malice. He was the one she was supposed to be focusing on, not that glorified hat rack.

She was at the mercy of the demon prodigy and she was acting like they were talking about the weather. He wanted her to regret ever asking about that hat rack in the first place, to apologize between his fingers for not taking his presence seriously and speaking of another so foolishly.

Then to prove his point, the boy reached into his pocket before taking out his gun in order to point the barrel straight at her head with silent warning.

It was a move that would make any one shutter and cower immediately. In fact, it was something he used a million times before to intimate each and everyone of his enemies.

But he had already learned that Asagao didn’t play by the rules of his other opponents.

Turning her head in confusion, the girl simply looked at the foot that was constricting her breathing before returning to the demon with a gentle smile of unbothered idiocy. “Oh, I’m not worried.”

And for a moment, Dazai paused, playing her game. “And why’s that, love?”

He wanted to see what she’d say, how she would justify her calm and collected behavior even though she was staring down the barrel of his gun. Yes, Asagao had outwardly said that she wasn’t afraid of dying by his hand but she wasn’t even trying to get out of it.

And he knew she could, he knew that the hellhound could fight back him if she so chose, so the fact that she was allowing Dazai to pin her down like this was interesting to say the least.

This girl, she was seconds from death and still her eyes held not one bit of urgency.

A moment later, Asagao spoke, her voice full of nostalgic memory as she reached forward in order to pull the barrel closer to her chest. “Because this is how we met, remember?”

Almost immediately, Dazai’s mind seemed to snap back to their first encounter almost an entire year ago. Huh, she was right. They had been in this position before, hadn’t they?

Back when the boy was drowning in his grief, back when he found an intruder in his friend's old place and threatened them in the same exact manner.

If only he knew how utterly life changing that little meeting had been, what kind of storm erupted from the moment he tore that hoodie off her head and looked into her Odasaku eyes.

And it was the same now, the boy looking down at her glasses free expression in order to catalog and trace the iris silently to himself. He seemed to do that a lot lately, getting lost in the emptiness as it swallowed him whole each and every time.

He was grateful for it also, knowing that the dullness of her eyes was way more welcoming then the darkness of his own soul, that by having her here he had switched the method of his demise.

Yes, drowning in Asagao was much more tolerant than drowning in his grief.

A sweeter way to die indeed, a more pleasant experience than what he ever deserved, and yet Dazai couldn’t stop himself from staring even so.

So much so, Dazai felt his lips twist upwards in familiar memory before his finger carefully cocked the gun with a dark chuckle. “Oops. You’re right, how silly of me. Let’s continue where we left off then, hmm?”

Then without a second thought, the executive pulled the trigger as a loud shot echoed through the warehouse. And most people would’ve been horrified by such a reaction, they would have regretted aiming at something he just so clearly said that he admired.

But you see, Dazai didn’t underestimate his girlfriend, not one bit.

Casually putting his hand down on his side, the mafioso then smirked to himself before turning around only to find his enemy a couple feet away, her hands on her hips. “Damn, you really tried to shoot me. I’m surprised and a little impressed, demon prodigy.”

Dazai only shrugged his shoulders though, unbothered. “Well, you told me to look at you as a threat, did you not, Asa-chan?”

It was conversation that was very prevalent in his mind, even today. Sure, the boy should’ve taken their fights easy, he should’ve sparred in a way that made sure Oda’s sister was safe but that wasn’t his style, and neither was hers.

No, Dazai treated her like a real threat, just like she deserved, he trusted that she was smart enough to anticipate his moves and counteract, like just right now.

And the fact that she had done just that also proved his theory that she could’ve gotten out his hold at any time.

What a sneaky shady little hellhound she was. He was onto her big time.

Then as if to prove his internal analysis, he watched Asagao’s face twist into that same twisted, psychotic and giddy smile that enticed him time and time again before watching her fingers twitch in unkept adrenaline just by that simple phrase.

And Dazai would never understand the power his acknowledgment had on her. That just by giving her his entire strength she was already antsy to match it. The hellhound training that had been embedded into her since she was a child, it coated and clouded every other single thought in her brain.

Pushing her fingers up to the ponytail that held her unruly crimson mane in place, Asagao then chuckled darkly before practically ripping the restraint in order to let her hair free.

And with that simple move, she had also ripped down the chains that held the monstrous creature beneath the surface, unafraid of the response it would give. “Oh Samu, you know just how to rile a girl up, don’t you? You’re right about that one, I am a threat. Now allow me to live up to your potential of me and show you how..”

And Dazai loved it, he loved that crazed beast-like look more than anything, his stance grounding itself immediately only to find that his enemy had disappeared in front of his eyes. Ah, she was using her time stopping ability. How cute.

Turning the safety off his gun, the boy then narrowed his eyes before sensing a change of wind to the right in order to let off three more shots just as Asagao reappeared millimeters from his face.

She seemed to register the bullets just in time, her body rolling to the ground in order to just miss the dangerous attacks as Dazai smirked in admiration.

And let’s be honest, should he have been pointing that gun at her like this? No. Should he have been directing his shots with the intent to kill. Also no. It was insanely risky and if she was even second too late then he would have the blood of another Oda on his hands.

Which was something the boy wrestled with internally but it seemed like his port mafia blood craved the opposite, to see just what amazing and enticing ways she could get out each deadly situation he threw at her.

And that desire, that allure was stronger than his fear to keep her locked away forever. No, she had a power, and it was too enticing to ignore, especially for the twisted mafioso who was looking for something entertaining.

He was then taken out of his thoughts as a rough hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun in order to pull it forward without fear as Asagao smirked in victory.

It didn’t matter that the chamber was loaded, it didn’t matter that his fingers were on the trigger and any slight movement could cause the end of her life.

Asa’s grip remained firm, her leg barreling into his side in order for Dazai's muscles to jump and his finger to loosen from the trigger just as she pulled it into her line of sight.

And once the cool metal was in her hands, Dazai wondered what she’d do with it, his senses on high alert only to watch the girl simply empty out the chamber of bullets with one hand, the quiet clinking of metal catching his attention immediately.

How dare she, she had the shot and didn’t take it.

Unsatisfied by her actions, the mafioso then darkened before the boy predicted her next strike in order to grab onto her fist roughly and twist it unnaturally behind her back with a huff.

No, she needed to know that she wasn’t as sly as she thought. That he was onto her little game. “Since you’re all riled up, does that mean you’ll stop holding back now too?”

He wondered how she would react to that, if she would lie about his little discovery or own up to her hypocrisy wholeheartedly? Either could be possible, considering she hadn’t disclosed to him outwardly about her watered down battles.

Asagao told him herself back in Bar Lupin that she was a prodigy just like him, that she could murder like a high level assassin and kill with the quickest of hands.

But if that was true then why hadn’t she tried that with him yet? Why hadn’t Asa displayed intent to kill with Dazai if she was so strongly in favor for believable fights?

It didn’t make sense, and he wanted to know why.

And for a moment, she felt her body still underneath his rough touch, as if she really had to think about his words. He seemed to have broken into something personal for her.

Interesting, she wasn’t denying it. But hold on, was she saying that he couldn’t handle her full hellhound side? That he was some kind of fragile little boy who wouldn't stand a chance? Did she forget that he was in the mafia, the youngest executive in the history of the organization?

She didn’t need to worry about such a thing, besides if that was the result Dazai knew he wouldn’t have opposed. So instead, he coaxed her some more. “Come on, Asa-channn. You’re no fair. I wanna die, remember?”

But even still, Asagao didn’t seem convinced, her body unmoving and eyes closing before he felt her physically shiver underneath his touch, almost like she was reliving some kind of unpleasant memory.

Something scared her, enough to cause such a visceral reaction.

Then Dazai watched as Asagao’s head slumped down into herself, her voice strained and bitter, a tone that the boy had never heard from her before. “I don’t kill anymore, I don’t want to be that person again..

Those words, they felt big, like a massive weight had just fallen on both of their shoulders. But why? What did they mean? What kind of person was she when she killed? What was she like when she truly allowed the hellhound side to fully overtake her? He wanted to ask her.

Yet before he could process that sentence, Asa used his apprehension in order to kick his shin and shift her body around, grabbing onto his forearm before flipping the skinny thin boy backwards over her shoulder.

Feeling his body slam against the ground, the girl then moved on top of him, reversing their previous position with a wave of her finger. “Besides that would be a pretty painful way to go, don’t you think?.”

His entire head began to spin instantly, both from the hit and from her change in attitude. Now she was happy, playful and just as carefree as before. There was no sign of that bitter suffocation that he had heard at all.

Which meant only one thing, she was covering it up.

But to be completely honest, every single thought he had seemed to drown out completely as he looked up at the towering force above him.

Her long messy hair was blanketed over her, shielding the two of them in a cave of her own design as she stared down with that same alluring dead eyed stare that he had admired before.

And not only that, the dim, dingy warehouse lights behind her seemed to melt around her head, bathing her in an ethereal light of some kind, something that made the boy’s heart flip unexpectedly and without warning.

God, she looked like an angel like this, so perfect, so heavenly.

Yet whether she resembled an angel of life or death was to be decided. Perhaps this was a sign from some unknown force, telling him that Oda Asagao would either be the beginning or the end of him.

Perhaps she would be the last thing he would see before leaving this world peacefully or perhaps she would carry him to the afterlife and into the pits of hell with her siren song and her dangerous words. He didn’t know.

He was playing with fire after all, selfish by staying by her side even though he shouldn’t have been allowed to. He was clouding her white light, binding her wings and making her fall to meet his level just because he couldn’t bear to be lonely.

How cruel he truly was, to not have the heart to set her free. It was too late now, the demon and the fallen angel, their fates had been sealed whether he liked it or not.

Reaching his fingers up, Dazai then ghosted across a strand of her falling hair before turning his head in curiosity. “Touché. Well, since you know so much let me ask you, love. What do you think is the most beautiful way to die?”

He wanted to know her answer, more than anyone before. Because he knew that she would answer honestly. She wouldn’t brush it off or disregard the meaning like everyone else.

Dying was a touchy subject it seemed, because although the boy craved it more than anything, it seemed whenever he brought up his little sad goal, no one ever gave him the answer he was looking for.

He didn’t want to be comforted or to hear that there was no beautiful way of death. No, he wanted perspective, real and true perspective. To see what constituted beauty for others, what that meant in terms of what he was searching for.

Because as much as he wished for peace and beauty in death, the boy didn’t know exactly what that meant. How strange it always was, searching for something so desperately even though he didn’t know the true extent of the meaning.

Waiting with bated breath, Dazai allowed her to silently think before the girl put a finger with a quiet and pensive hum. ““Hmmm, that’s a tough one..”

Then she closed her eyes before her lips curved into a confident beam of light. “I guess I would have to say a lovers suicide!”

And that light was blinding, mixing in with the makeshift halo behind her in order for Dazai to turn his head in confusion.He had never thought about that before. Hell, he didn’t even know the term. How curious. “Lovers suicide?”

Nodding to herself, Asa then lifted her pinky finger out in explanation. “Yeah, like a double suicide, you know? Because even if you deemed that the world was awful, you would still have to admit that there was at least one person that made the experience worth it, enough to want to follow them all the way to the afterlife.”

Then to prove her point, the girl simply reached down before interlocked Dazai’s pinky finger with her own, a small smile of her lips as the boy gazed at the sight in awestruck wonder.

Of course she would say something like that. Only Asagao could answer a question about death so hopefully and tragically captivating. Her desire to see the good, to twist the narrative into a positive one, they were extremely prevalent here.

But for once, Dazai didn’t mind it, he liked the idea of having someone to die with. The thought had never crossed his mind before, to have someone to treasure you enough to want to follow you until the very end. It sounded nice. Almost beautiful even, just like he wanted.

Testing out the words on his tongue, the boy whispered. “A double suicide..”

Nodding once, Asa pulled their interlocked pinkies towards her heart in reply. “Yeah! It’s romantically tragic in its own right, don’t you think?”

It was, it really was. In fact, it was so tragically perfect that Dazai knew he would’ve never had thought of such a thing himself. Simply because he wouldn't have allowed himself to think of something so nice and positive.

But now that it was spoken into the world, it couldn’t be forgotten. “I’ve never thought about that before. Do you really think someone would want to do that with me?”

Could it be, could someone really dedicate themselves to him to that extent, enough to give up everything, to walk hand and hand with him to the end of the line? No, that was impossible, no one wanted him, especially in that way.

Asa only shrugged her shoulders though. “You never know! Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Then all at once, clarity seemed to flash in his eyes. “You’re right..”

That’s it, he just had to ask every woman he saw, then maybe one day he’d get lucky.

Reaching forward, Dazai then shifted his hands in order to grasp onto her wrist before meeting her eyes with a hopeful smile. “Hey Asa-chan! Do you wanna..”

Yet Asagao seemed to already know where he was going with his question, her hand immediately unlatching from his in order to playfully shove her palm into his face and push him back onto the ground. “Sorry Osu, I would do a lot of things for you but killing myself won’t bring me closer to my brother. The only death I’ll accept is one by your hand.”

Damn it, she had said that before, hadn’t she? Ah well, worth a shot.

Throwing his arms out with a child-ish whine, Dazai then pouted his lips at the rejection. “Boo, you give me such a good idea and then turn me down? That’s not very nice. I’m sad now.”

Asagao only laughed though, her tiny giggles taking up the space of his question before pointing a finger out in an offer of her own. “Well, we can’t have that. Oh, I know. How about we stop by the shop on the way home and I’ll buy you some canned crab to make up for it?”

And although it wasn’t what he wanted, her offer enticed him just as much, the boy’s eyes sparkling with pure joy in order to nod his head excitedly.

“Deal!”

——

Stepping through the door of Odasaku’s apartment, Asagao happily turned on the light, the plastic bag full of canned crab clinking together as she moved, only for Dazai to quickly take off his black mafia jacket and throw it on the ground.

And in the past couple weeks of them reuniting, the girl noticed Osamu's childish traits more and more, an action that made her strangely happy. Sure, she still wasn’t sure if he was being completely authentic but she couldn't deny that he at least looked more free when he did them.

In fact, their relationship had grown exponentially since the night Asa cared for him and took off his bandages. She was worried that by pushing that much she would’ve scared him away but it seemed to be the opposite, and for that she was grateful.

Now he came over whenever he pleased, without excuse, and without worry. She would make sure he ate and they would watch TV together and sometimes they would go out to spar like tonight. If anything, the two had definitely moved past the term strangers and into more of a friendship based relationship.

They understood each other, most of the time without words, and that was refreshing to both of them, considering no one else could do such an impossible thing. They were alike and yet so different depending on the circumstance. It was almost fascinating to think about.

She had never had that before, someone that understood so much with so little.

And where most people would call it invasive, Asagao saw his nosey and deductive attitude as a marvel. Although, she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, considering she stepped out of boundaries before.

But those days seemed long gone as the girl turned back to Osamu only to pause when she noticed discolored tan stains on the bandages around his arms. Well, that was weird.

Reaching her hand up, Asagao then lightly touched his forearm, careful to keep her touch on the gauze as she inspected the source. “What is this?”

Although all she received was a boy-ish smile, filled with fake innocence. “Coffee?”

Almost immediately, something about his sentence seemed off, causing Asa to cock an eye with suspicion. “I didn’t even know you drank coffee..”

Then all at once, the boy nodded his head erratically, his lips moving at a mile a minute in order to give an over the top laugh. “Oh, yeah! I love it, I can’t get enough of it. That’s why I spilled some on me this morning. Oops, I’m so clumsy, aren’t I? Didn’t even notice it till now.”

Pouting his lips all at once, Dazai then whined to himself dramatically. “But now that you mention it, it feels really gross, like super uncomfortable. Asa-chan, you gotta save me! I don't know how I can go on like this..!”

His story was strange, considering she had never heard him speak about liking coffee before, nor did he ever choose that as his drink of choice. Usually it was just whiskey and any other alcohol he could get his hands on.

And what Asagao didn’t know was that she was completely right. In fact, Dazai had never touched the stuff before this morning. He didn’t love coffee, but the reason he had bathed himself in it was purposeful.

You see, ever since the first night Asagao changed his bandages, Dazai couldn’t get enough. He wanted that feeling back, the one that made him feel so safe and cared for. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and trust me, he had tried.

Which led him to taking matters into his own hands, aka finding ways to dirty his bandages so that he would have an excuse to give Asagao the next time he saw her.

At first it started with blood, making sure to purposely hurt his enemies in the most messy way possible in order to soil the white gauze, but then it moved to other things such as alcohol, and rolling around in dirt or dunking himself in nearby rivers.

And today’s plan involved coffee. He had gotten the idea when he saw one of his subordinates walk around the corner with one. So naturally, he ordered the guy to give it up in order to pour the lukewarm liquid on his arms with delightful glee.

Anything to get Asa to touch him like that again, to feel so important and special again. Was it underhanded? Possibly, but the boy knew he couldn’t just come out and ask for such an embarrassing thing.

Staying silent for a moment, he then watched as Asagao seemed to turn his wrist, examining the sight before she let him go with a smile. “I’ll go get the bandages. Meet you on the couch.”

And just like that, he had won yet again, causing the boy to practically skip to the plush cushions of the sofa, unable to hide his delight in song as he watched her go into Oda’s bedroom to receive the first aid kit. “Yay! Asa-chan is gonna help me, she’s gonna help me, yeah! Asa-chan is the best, she’s the very best, yeah!”

Once she turned the corner though, Asagao couldn’t help but close her eyes, already sensing his deceptive demeanor. No one spilled things that clumsily, especially Dazai. Which meant that it was for a purpose.

But because his actions didn’t seem self destructive, the girl chose to ignore them. It’s not like she minded changing out his bandages time and time again. In fact, she loved doing it, it made her feel closer to him.

Returning to the sofa, Asagao then placed herself beside him before placing the gauze on the table only for Dazai to immediately loosen his port mafia tie from his neck with one hand. “Lean closer, darling.”

So she did, the girl pushed her head closer to him so that he could slip off her glasses before unraveling the tie as she averted her gaze from his in silent wait.

Back in the warehouse she may have been able to look at him without her blurry barriers but now that she wasn’t distracted by the fight everything seemed way harder. She still couldn’t look at him head on like this, no matter how much she tried.

Dazai didn’t seem to mind though, his fingers only focused on securing the black tie around her eyes and into a firm knot as Asagao felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

So much better.

Then once her view was obstructed, Dazai couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her instant compliance each and every time.

He loved how she never protested to such a strange request, how she never judged him for not being able to do this without the blindfold. No, she knew that he needed this to continue and Dazai was grateful for that.

Once it was done, Asagao moved her fingers towards the coffee stained coverings before slowly undoing each bind as Dazai felt his breath hitch inside his throat at the emotionally intimate contact.

And even though they had done this exchange about a dozen times, each one felt like the very first. It never got easier, it never made his ears stop ringing and his skin stop shivering.

But like some psychotic masochistic man, Dazai never pulled away, his eyes always entranced with her careful and respectful moves, each calculated, each with a certain intent.

He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the way she cherished him.

Because as scary as it was, her gentle non judgemental fingers gave him a sense of calm along with the chaos. They terrified him and yet they always soothed him in every kind of mitch matched way.

They reached down to the deepest part of his soul, the one he didn’t know existed and embraced it in a warm and welcoming hug. And though the warmth was uncomfortable and foreign, he didn’t outright hate it anymore.

In fact it was quite the opposite, the boy wanted to run to it, he wanted to jump head first into that dangerous and vulnerable place and never return. He was addicted in every possible way, addicted to the idea of being held by her forever.

This was all her fault, how could she? Making him experience such a life changing feeling, he knew this would happen, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist this once he had it. How dare she, how dare she make him feel such weak and fragile emotions again.

How dare she coax him into thinking he deserved such a wonderful experience like this?

Those thoughts made him want to be protected by her hands forever, and with the low murmur of the TV in the background and the sickeningly sweet sound of Asagao’s hum to break through the noise, Osamu did feel exactly that.

Protected.

Slowly and without words, Asagao then hummed to herself in order to wrap the fresh clean bandages around his arms before securing the sight and pulling down her blindfold. “Do you feel better now?”

He simply nodded, still in a daze as Asagao smiled softly in return before replacing her glasses. “Good, I’m glad.”

A soft silence appeared then as the two kids allowed it to fill the room in order to turn their attention to the screen that was playing the latest anime episode of the show that they had been interested in lately.

This was nice, just being with him, relaxing without a care in the world. It made the foreign walls of her brother’s apartment feel more personal and belonging. Hopefully it was the same for Osamu also.

Just then, the sounds from the TV snapped her back to reality, watching as the the main character clapped excitedly as the room around her revealed her friends and family, all of them wishing her a happy birthday in joyish surprise. Aw, how cute. They planned all that out for her.

The sight couldn’t help make Asagao pause though, realizing something almost immediately. “Hey, Samu. Now that I think about it, when is your birthday? My brother never said in his letters and I’ve always been curious.”

Yet that’s when she watched Dazai pause, his voice rather dead and monotone, as if he was mentally waving the question away. “Oh, it was five months ago.”

Feeling her face fell in horror, Asa shook her head in denial. “W-Wait..I missed it..?”

No, that couldn’t be. That meant that during the time they were apart he celebrated his birthday by himself? How sad. No one even knew and he just let it pass like nothing, didn’t he?

Wait. That meant that Dazai was now sixteen, didn't it? She didn’t even realize.

It didn’t matter that he never mentioned it until now, how could possibly let such a thing pass so quietly without a word? Now she felt awful. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Samu! What kind of fake girlfriend am I? I didn’t even say happy birthday to you. What is wrong with me, I should've asked sooner, I should’ve..”

Yet the boy only cut her off though, his tone clearly dismissive. “Don’t worry about it. Celebrating life is stupid anyways.”

But how could she not worry about it? That was an impossible task, one that she knew she couldn't complete “B-But..I..”

Dazai only pushed a finger to her lips though, stopping any sense of self hatred she was about to utter before shaking his head.“I already said don’t worry your pretty little head, love. Now, stop that frown or else you’ll turn ugly like Chuuya.”

Then the boy simply smiled before flopping his head onto her lap comfortably in order to turn towards the TV and ignore the conversation completely. “Now, shush, pillows aren’t supposed to be noisy.”

And when the air turned silent once more, it was far more solemn as Asagao absently moved her hand to his hair with an unsatisfied sigh.

But for Dazai, the topic had already left his mind as the soothing feeling of her hand on his hair caused his eyes to grow heavier and heavier with bliss, immediately getting lost in the soft caresses and lulling touch.

How could he think about anything when her magic had already utterly captivated him?

Feeling Osamu’s head sink further into the safety of her lap, Asagao felt her eyes soften at the sleeping boy before thinking back to her previous question.

And though Dazai seemed to forget about it, she could not, his sad little words consuming her mind all at once.

Celebrating life is stupid anyways

Closing her eyes with dissatisfaction, Asagao then shook her head, not liking the implications of his words as she wished to change them even so.

And she would change them, she had to.

“But it’s not just any life, it’s your life. ”

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endless-summer-soldier · 9 months

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dr. feelgood - chapter seven

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death, unprotected sex, rough sex

word count: 1k

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I woke up to that smell again. Ginger, bergamot, and citrus. And then I felt the pounding in my head. Memories from last night came flooding back and I groaned, knowing I showed Bucky some of my vulnerability by asking him to stay. It was like my brain knew it was a bad idea, but we had this magnetic pull that forced us to keep coming back together.

I rolled over, expecting to see Bucky, but he wasn’t there. Did I imagine that he stayed over? I pushed my head into the pillow and the scent was overwhelming; he must have stayed. I searched around the room for a shirt or a note or any sign of his presence, but there was nothing to be found.

And then I realized the worst possible scenario: he stayed over and left. Without saying goodbye. He realized this was all a big mistake. I sunk further into the covers, trying my best not to pout. The only solution I could come up with was to go back to sleep and forget that all of this ever happened.

I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply in an attempt to keep myself from panicking, when the bed sank in next to me and the sheets were being peeled down.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he teased. I let out a groan and just turned into him, taking in his sweet aroma. “How you feeling?” he added.

I didn’t respond with words, still dealing with my rapid change of emotions, and groaned again. I heard him chuckle as he ran his hand through my hair.

“Well I made us breakfast. Why don’t you come down and eat something. It’ll make you feel better.” I nodded my head and Bucky pulled the rest of the covers off me as I rolled over out of bed.

We shuffled downstairs and I was stunned to find a full breakfast spread laid out on my kitchen table. Stacks of chocolate chip pancakes, a plate of crispy bacon, sunshine yellow scrambled eggs, and a pitcher of orange juice made me realize how hungry I actually was. Bucky pulled out a kitchen chair for me and placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of me.

“How did you have time for all of this?”

“I’m used to getting up early. The military forced that habit onto me.”

“But I know for a fact I didn’t have any of this in the fridge.”

“I ran to the grocery store.”

“Are you not hungover?”

He shrugged, “Not really.”

“Let me guess, military?”

“Something like that.”

“So do you remember all of last night?” I pressed, hoping he may have somehow forgotten my momentary lapse in judgment.

“You think I would forget any time spent with you?” he grinned.

But there was one question really on my mind, “Did we…?” I pointed between the two of us, hoping he understood my question.

“You don’t remember?”

“I had a lot of tequila,” I used as an honest excuse.

“Well that is unfortunate because it was one of our best sessions.”

“Oh really? Must not have been that great if I don’t remember.”

He smiled at me, “Shall I refresh your memory?”

He had a mischievous look on his face and I had a feeling he was going to do more than just tell me.

“At least let me recharge first,” I said, taking a bite of pancake.

“Let’s see…first I cuddled you. Then I spooned you. And then we went to sleep.”

I looked up from my plate at him, “That was it?”

“There might’ve been a few innocent kisses mixed in there, but it was a fairly PG night.”

“I didn’t make a move on you?”

“Oh you did, a few times.”

“And you resisted?”

“I didn’t want to take advantage of you.” I shot him a confused look, waiting for further explanation. “The first night we hooked up, we were both drunk but you made it very clear you were interested. You flirted, you made moves, you consented multiple times. But recently you’ve been giving me mixed signals, and I didn’t want to sleep with you without knowing it was something you wanted.”

And just like that he proved he was a genuinely good guy.

“That was very considerate,” I replied.

“I keep trying to tell you, I’m not an asshole, despite what Stark might think. And I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know,” was all I could muster. There were so many things I wanted to say, but I wasn’t ready. I kind of enjoyed playing these games with him. If this turned into something more, it could get complicated.

I caught his gaze across the table and could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, but he followed my lead. We continued eating and Bucky continued filling up my cup of coffee, promising it would help me feel better. I kept waiting for him to rush out and leave for the hospital, but he never did.

“Are you going into the hospital today?” I finally asked, as we finished up with our meal.

“Not unless I get paged. Why? Do you want me out of your hair?”

I shook my head, “No, actually I was hoping you’d stay and hang out for a bit.”

“As you wish,” he replied with that charming smile.

“Come on,” I said, ushering him out of the kitchen and into the living room. I had nothing planned for the day, but figured we would lounge on the couch and watch a movie. But Bucky had other ideas. He paused in front of the closet door that was left ajar and was currently displaying my board game collection.

“I knew you were a massive dork, but I didn’t take you for a board game dork,” he mused. I hid my face in my hands, “I forgot about those. I usually keep that closet locked when I have company over.”

“Oh, no way,” he said, diving further into the closet to grab whatever game caught his eye. He came back out with a bright yellow and blue box. “I haven’t played Operation since I was a kid.”

“I don’t know if you want to play against me, I’ve logged a lot of hours,” I bragged.

“You are so going down,” he said.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes doctor au #bucky x reader

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human-adjacent · 1 year

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episode 101 - another twist

- fair warning this is my favorite episode and also my least favorite episode and i am not okay. this post is mostly for myself

- intentionally listened to this on april fools day so i could pretend that michaels death was just a silly little prank

- i love all of nikolas lines she’s so cute. her little “hellooooo!!” to elias in the beginning, the way she keeps going “can i call u elias?” and says that she’s his good friend, her constantly insulting jon and saying that he’s rude and that he has bad skin, “ah, it’s downright uncanny!” “out with the old, in with… well, in with the you!” she’s such a good character

- MICHAEL☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ i love him sm and all of his lines are also so good. even tho the main reason i liked him initially was because of his voice he’s also just so fascinating and his, as jon would call it, “identity issues” are so interesting. i love how even after all this time and all that the distortion has done there still is some humanity left inside of it, some semblance of the original michael shelley still fighting to exist. i know he’s here to literally murder jon but the fact that michael willingly gave jon a statement despite it going against his nature and entire existence really just shows that he is not a complete monster. the distortion desires to kill but as a past institute employee michael understands jon’s desire for knowledge, and even though he wants to take his revenge on the archives, i also think he has some empathy for jon. michael was killed because of his own ignorance and naivety, and i think he can see himself in jon, who’s also suffering because of his own ignorance, being pushed around and manipulated by his boss just like michael was. the distortion wants to kill, but no matter how angry or upset he is, michael shelley does not, and unfortunately for jon the distortion is just the more powerful force in this conflict

- i have nooo idea what i just typed sorry i didn’t mean to ramble but michael makes me very insane. dont u dare reblog and try to disagree with me bc that was not a coherent thought to provoke discussion that was just me grieving

- en e way here’s a list of quotes from this episode that i just really enjoy (woah i just figured out how to make a bulleted list that’s crazy)

“The Eye watches, and the Stranger conceals, but me… I lie, Archivist.”

“I am the throat of delusion incarnate.”

“Being Michael stole the only purpose I have ever known.”

“The cramped casket sings loud, but not loud enough to drown out screaming.” (the cramped casket is a beautiful way to describe a coffin)

“How do you define the start of your being when in some ways you have always been?”

“the Magnus Institute – that ivory tower, keeping its prisoners ignorant in pursuit of… knowledge. [Giggles] A dungeon full of idiot watchers.” (giggles🤭)

“Am I evil, Archivist? Is a thing evil when it simply obeys its own nature?”

“The mind does not shatter, Archivist. It is soft and malleable. It bends and twists and returns to what it was, though what you see and feel may leave their mark upon it.”

“I cannot tell you the existential joys of truly… becoming. Of an entireness finally crossing the threshold into your self.”

“Even sharper than the joy of becoming is the agony of being opened and remade. To have your who torn bloody from your what, and another crudely lashed into its place.”

“My very existence tied to my pointlessness. Wearing my failure as the very fabric of my being.”

“He got… distracted. Let feelings that shouldn’t have been his overwhelm me.” ☹️

- ok i held a grudge against helen last time for killing michael but i will admit i think she’s cool😔 also i would’ve loved to see michael distortion in the early days of his uh transformation because i would assume he also felt lost and confused like helen did and i’m curious what he would’ve done

- don’t talk to me for at least 3-5 business days i need to mentally recover

#tma relisten #at least i have the gerry episode to look forward to #tma #the magnus archives #nikola orsinov #michael shelley #michael distortion #jonathan sims #helen distortion

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negansbackdoorwhore · 2 years

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Prompt: 50. “You make me want things I can't have.” smut Jason please

Working at a law firm was kind of boring but of course you heard juicy details about different cases. But you were just an assistant to Alicia. But you had respect and called her Mrs. Florrick. You were currently getting her a coffee and accidentally ran into a man. As you were about to apologize, you were caught off on how sexy he was.

You quickly retreated as a reflex to avoid contact. Upon grabbing another cup of coffee you approached Alicia’s office to see the same guy. You were going to retreat again but Alicia waved you in.

“Y/N! Thank you, Jason here said there was an accident earlier.”

“Yeah. I’m so sorry sir, I should watch where I’m going. I just get caught up and-“

“No need to explain. You’re just fine sweetheart.”

You all laughed for a moment before Alicia sent you off to deliver papers. It wasn’t far but whenever you were going to return, you barely peaked into the door to see Alicia and Jason kissing. They were too lost in their own business and so you exited with a blush across your cheeks. You didn’t know what to do besides go on a walk to avoid the awkward conversation.

That was a month ago. You seen how they looked at each other and you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Jason was an attractive single man who always had something witty to say. Not to mention how flirty he is towards Alicia and sometimes you. Unfortunately, he was somehow into Alicia more than you. You kept on thinking such negative things about her just because she had Jason. You just wanted his attention on you instead of her. It sounded kind of pathetic but you wanted him so bad. That’s why whenever you spotted him at the bar, you made a move.

“Hey Jason. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect you either Sweetheart.” He said while sipping at shot glass, you went ahead to order some random cocktail as Jason stared at you. For a bit you both talked and that one drink seemed to give you courage.

“It’s not fair.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think it’s unfair when someone as sweet and hot you are is all over Alicia. But I have no one but I can’t do anything because she’s my boss.”

“She was the first to make a move on me. Besides I’m not sure what’s going on there.”

“You make me want things I can’t have.” You mumble out as you placed down your money.

“Have a good night Jason. Don’t tell Alicia about this.”

“Hold on a minute, let me take you home.” You were going to decline but he was insistent on it.

Jason drove you home to your apartment and took you to your door to be sure you got in okay.

“Thank you.” You say as you unlock the door and then feel Jason pressing behind you. You tensed at how his body felt and how his hand rested on your side. Before you could open the door, Jason turned your body to press along your door. You felt like your heart could stop on how close he was to you but that wasn’t it as he leaned to kiss you. His body pressing further against you and felt how your body started to tremble against him. Jason held you still and deepened the kiss by having his tongue slip past your lips. You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your arms around him. It was like this for a few minutes before he pulled away.

“You think you’re up for a guest tonight?”

He smirked at you as you took him inside by the shirt. Soon you were swallowing his cock against your couch and watched his head throw back on the cushions. His rich moans filled your ears as you took him into your throat.

“Fuck, that mouth is something sweetheart.”

“Better than Alicia?” His breath hitched at your question and you stopped. It caused Jason to growl but you crawled on top of him.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Am I better than Alicia?” As he was about to speak you moved your panties to the side to sink onto him. He squeezed your body and your hands rested on his chest. Your hips grinded on him and he was staring at how good you rode him.

“Am I better than Alicia, Jason?”

“Fuck yeah you are.”

#jeffrey dean morgan #jeffrey dean morgan x reader #jeffreys thirst squad #jeffrey dean morgan x you #jdm fanfiction #jason crouse x you #the good wife jason crouse #jason crouse x reader #jason crouse

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spidersmiceandeverythingnice · 2 years

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I really like how you explained in detail what happens during Calanmai, with descriptions from the book and all, because I didn’t quite remember how it was and almost fell for one SJM Stan saying that “well it’s actually like Tamlim drunk too much bear at a party and proceeds to assault Feyre” and I always felt like there was something deeply wrong with how they choose to interpret it? Like girl I know that Sarah’s not best at worldbuilding or consistency or development or depth or… well, you get it, but she hasn’t thus far retconned how that ritual works? If you can recognise that Lucien was taken advantage of by having to go in Tamlim’s place, use the same logic and just apply it to the other character, you don’t need to like him to do that, just make an effort to not be an hypocrite.

Sorry for the rant, but sometimes I cant help but be deeply disturbed by some really incoherent takes that are posted here, and I need a place to just express my frustrations 🫠

Oh I definitely feel you - unfortunately this kind of disconnect is kind of par for the course with SJM works because of her way of building narratives. Rhys and Lucien are victims of assault because them being male assault victims absolved them - in Feyre's eyes - of wrongdoing committed against her. I think @worldsnotsaid has a great post about this (sorry for the tag but they have a great link tree on the blog about some of these issues) - where abuse in ACOTAR isn't bad because abuse is bad, abuse is bad because Feyre is good. So characters that hurt Feyre need to be redeemed some way because she is good and people who dont or cant protect her are bad - even though Lucien risked his life multiple times and was actively punished for trying to help and protect Feyre when she was held prisoner by Amarantha, he is "tainted" with his loyalty to Tamlin, who is positioned as the narrative's bad actor. At the beginning of ACOWAR, Lucien tells Feyre he's sorry that he prioritized the guy he's been close personal friends with for hundreds of years and who is also his boss over Feyre, whom he has known for a year and whom he believed to be kidnapped by someone who had actively assaulted her, someone with the ability to brainwash her. Then it is revealed that Lucien was raped (because the biracial disabled faerie who watched his fiance get fridged while his family held him down doesnt have enough trauma) and THEN Feyre decides that he was good all along and is worthy of help. This is a pattern: the reveal that Rhys never wanted to be Amarantha's right hand man and that he was forced to have sex with her as part of "the mask" immediately absolved Rhysand of any bad actions he committed against Feyre. Now they "share" trauma and can reminisce about how a sanctuary for SA survivors is a healing place for both of them... even though Rhysand is the cause of Feyre's sexual trauma.

The problem with this narrative is that SJM can't acknowledge that Calanmai involves rape by its very nature because then she'd have to acknowledge that Tamlin is a victim, and he can't be a victim, because he is not good. That's why Ianthe specifically had to get involved when Lucien enacts Calanmai - because Ianthe is Bad and if it were any random female then we might get close to acknowledging that hey, Calanmai is pretty fucked up, isn't it? Maybe we shouldn't frame Tamlin as being sexually aggressive since the only time he's ever shown acting in a sexually aggressive way is when he gets roofied because that is a super necessary part of this yearly ritual for some fucking reason.

It's incredibly fucked up. I hate hate Hate HATE the idea of rape as redemption or rape as a means of empowerment and I don't understand why authors fucking do this. And again - I'm of the opinion that Tamlin doesn't need redemption in this narrative. He needs to be on meds for PTSD and chronic depression but he's not evil. Only... he has to be because if we acknowledge Tamlin as a sympathetic character then it breaks the entire world of ACOTAR because it means that people who aren't nice to Feyre can also have trauma and be victims.

#anti sjm #WHEW long post #anti acotar #tamlin

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thebonerpit · 1 year

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I need to talk about Dragon Age Absolution because yeah I’m late to the party but I finally watched it...

First of all, I can’t get over the utter ridiculousness of Hawke failing to kill not one but TWO villains. Like. what the FUCK lmfao. This poor man/woman. And poor Varric too, holy shit. But I am a bit confused because Varric was viscount of Kirkwall at the end of DAI right? Was this already happening and he somehow just didn’t notice?? (There was also some weird timeline fuckery with Hira saying her family was killed by Venatori when she was a small child but now she’s at least 20 and the Venatori didn’t even exist until DAI. DA4 cannot be 15+ years later, that would be bananas.)

I was kind of spoiled for the Meredith reveal but I didn’t know she was fully aware and talking and controlling red lyrium templars?!?!?! I thought she was just gonna be the red crystal and that artifact was going to wake her up but I guess she’s already awake, so maybe it’s to give her a body again? IDK IDK.

Unfortunately I didn’t love Miriam. She’s just the type of character I don’t generally like... kinda 2edgy4u y’know? I mean she’s basically a female Fenris but the difference is we had a whole-ass game to get to know him and see his personality emerge and see him work through his trauma but this entire series was over SO fast that I never felt like I knew her at all. I knew Hira was going to betray them because there was absolutely no fucking way Fairbanks was the real traitor and if you played Inquisition you probably knew that too. It sucks he died but at least he wasn’t a bastard. Oh and speaking of Hira I just find it so funny that she was like “yeah I asked the Inquisition to go WAR with Tevinter and they said NO can you believe?!” and I’m like YES I can believe, what the fuck? Are you kidding me?? You think the Inquisition - who are already being scrutinized and accused of being power hungry and are dealing with mountains of other things - are going to start a war with one of the most powerful nations in Thedas? I have to laugh.

Rezaren had the personality of a piece of wet bread and I was zero percent interested in his whiny shenanigans. Although I do appreciate how he thought that keeping the reanimated corpse of his dead slave around to chat to every now and then was NORMAL. Horrific. I actually really liked Tassia though! Because for almost the entirety of DA we’ve sort of been told that Tevinter templars are weak as kittens and are basically pointless, but Tassia was a certified boss swinging that hammer around. It was weird that we never saw her use any templar abilities though (unless I missed it?) so maybe that is sort of frowned upon in Tevinter.

The real winners here are OBVIOUSLY Lacklon and Roland omg babessssss. Roland was by far my fave character. Optimistic and heroic with just the right amount of sass so he wasn’t boring. Qwydion was... ugh ok I am on the fence with her. There were a lot of parts where I really did like her but imho they just made her a BIT too silly. Like running away screaming from the demons... girl... you’re a badass mage, what the hell was that?!

Anyway overall I give it a solid 7/10. I think I was just so excited to see something new in the DA world again /sobs, so I can overlook some of the faults. I am both terrified and excited for DA4 because I thought we would be mostly dealing with Solas and his bullshit but now we have Meredith + red templars invading Tevinter which is already struggling to repel constant Qunari invasions?? Things are not looking good for Tevinter tbh and if that means something bad happens to Dorian I will RIOT.

#dragon age absolution #tbptalks #this is a massive braindump lol #also me seeing .2 seconds of cullen in the background of one scene: A CRUMB

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destinygoldenstar · 2 months

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I’m Taking A Break

So… title says all.

I’m not quitting Tumblr, I’m just taking a break.

Any post you see from me the rest of this month is queued. And I have a friend that’s gonna help me reblog about Palestine so I can still keep word going. That’s important and it would be immoral to abandon that.

Why am I taking a break?

The answer is simple, really. I’m having an anxiety episode. And it’s just gonna get worse if I don’t get help for myself.

Some of my followers know I have anxiety. I got diagnosed a long time ago at this point. While I have moved to a better place that’s helped me since then, it still comes up from time to time. And let me tell you, it’s a detriment to a person. There’s no clear cure to feeling sick to your stomach and being unable to sleep due to nightmares and finding it hard to speak, feeling like you’re gonna throw up at any given moment even though that never happens…

The last time I took a break was the last time I had an episode like this. Three years ago. That was by Dhar Mann’s influence.

Here, some of my friends have figured, including myself, the genocide of Palestine.

I have been reblogging posts to help aid. I have donated to URWNA. I have signed my name to help demand ceasefire. I even registered to vote so I could vote against the ones encouraging said genocide.

Now, I am not Palestine. I have no Palestine relatives as far as I know. Me and my family have the unfortunate privilege of being pasty white peoples in America. That, and my bosses tell me I have a bright future ahead of me.

But my privilege and lack of stakes in the matter should be no excuse for not trying to help those suffering. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I have a good life and everyone else seems to not.

That sounds like something petty to think, but it is something that’s tearing me up.

That sounds really selfish to talk about at a time like this as though I’m more important than them, but it is how I feel and I can’t ignore my own mental health.

I am the only one in my family that was trying to help. I wanted to change that, so I reached out to them asking if they’d help.

And that caused a dent in my relationship with my grandmother. Who is Catholic.

She was so ignorant to what’s happening that she denied everything I was telling her. Someone who usually falls for scams in a heartbeat questions sites I show her, that I reviewed to be valid. Then she goes on to pray for my well being while also asking I stop what I’m doing and be careful. As it’s not my place in a ‘both sides’ issue.

I felt sick to my stomach the moment she DM’d me this. And I knew I had to keep my distance from her and not look her in the eye.

I’m not a good persuader. But I know she won’t listen. She’s heavily devoted to her religion.

She can do that. That’s not my problem. My problem is that she’s not even trying to understand the issue, or me.

I really hope this isn’t the case for some people, but for me it is. My family and my co-workers watch the Super Bowl. I didn’t. I don’t even care what happened there.

I’m alone in my care on this one.

I would talk to my parents, and a therapist, and I probably will after I post this, but I feel as though they’re gonna say “You’re not Palestine, right? Then you shouldn’t worry about people you don’t even know. Especially if it’s hurting you in the process.”

I care quite a bit about how people view me. Again, Catholic grandparent, even if I am not technically in that religion anymore. The one time I didn’t was when it was clear to me that they’d bully me no matter what. A part of why I moved.

If someone calls me a bad person, I feel that. It doesn’t just fly over my head.

Sure constructive criticism is justified, and I’m not saying people shouldn’t give it to me. But at a time like this it gets so easy to just assume people like me are selfish and evil for not caring and not helping enough.

I don’t need to be a perfect Angel, that’s impossible, but I do want to at least come across as a solid human being.

I work at a local Publix in my area. That’s a community that strives in training their workers to put others first and help people. And that’s a great moral. And I’m grateful to at least help people in a small community, kind of like an average Joe.

Cause I’m not a superhero. I’m not some famous person of power and influence. If I could use that power to save Palestine, I would.

But I don’t.

And I know that this is selfish. I’m not pretending it’s not selfish. Here I am making this all about me.

But anxiety episodes are dents on my well being. And if I can’t help myself, I can’t help anyone.

So for the sake of that, I have to cut myself off from social media. At least for a little while. So I can recover and help again.

I’m not committing to any Pro-Israel product while I’m gone. And I’m not forgetting the war is still happening. Alone or not, stake or not, it’s my responsibility to not ignore it.

So… give me about a month. We’ll see how I feel. Then I’ll probably come back.

Thank you for understanding.

#let’s talk #anxeity #anxiety disorder #anxiety tw #mental health #thank you for reading

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backtothestart02 · 2 years

Text

7 First Dates - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Trying to get writing again. This is what inspired tonight. Enjoy.

...

Synopsis: AU - An overworked Barry Allen doesn't expect to meet the love of his life on a much-needed vacation to Hawaii. He expects even less the secret even she doesn't know she's hiding.

...

Chapter 1 -

That morning started like any other.

Barry got up, showered, got dressed, and walked out the door on the way to his CSI job at the local police station in Central City. He’d slept only half the night, staying up to work on some cases he hadn’t gotten through the day before, but he felt alert enough with the energy drink he grabbed from a vending machine in the break room to continue with his day.

He smiled half-heartedly at his co-worker, Patty, when he walked into the lab. She asked how he was, and he answered noncommittally, so she wouldn’t try to poorly flirt with him like was her tendency this early in the morning.

Luckily, Captain Singh called for one of them to come to an active crime scene downtown to help the detectives determine their next steps and gather evidence.

Barry volunteered, leaving Patty in a lurch. He felt a little bad, but he didn’t know how else to say he wasn’t interested, which he had…sort of, on numerous occasions.

Unfortunately, Barry missed out on the detectives’ vehicle leaving the station and had to jog the 12 blocks to get to the scene. He was a bit out of breath but thought he was okay to still analyze what had happened, based on witnesses’ descriptions of events and what had been left behind.

“Well, Allen?” Singh asked, after Barry, previously crouched near the ground, had sprung up hastily to express his findings.

But Barry didn’t answer. He paled, his leg jolting into a half-step. Then his eyes rolled back, and his body started to fall. At his height of over six feet, the handful of cops around him made an effort to catch him so he wouldn’t snap on the pavement. One of them called for an ambulance.

Barry woke once while in the ambulance, but he was so groggy he couldn’t remember his own name. The paramedic encouraged him to pass out again, and he did. The next time he woke up he was in a hospital bed, feeling a bit out of it but otherwise okay.

His parents, living locally, were the first ones to make their appearance. Nora Allen fretted needlessly over her son, whom it turned out was just suffering from dehydration and lack of sleep and had fainted. Barry’s father, Henry, scolded him a bit for not taking care of himself but was clearly worried as well and squeezed his wife’s shoulder who was worrying openly for both of them.

The doctor came in, said they were going to run a couple more tests to make sure it wasn’t more serious but then he said Barry was free to go home. Nora insisted he take a few days off work and come home with them so he could get his body taken care of before rushing into any more cases, to which Barry was about to protest when a surprising somebody walked through the doorway, and it wasn’t another doctor.

“I was just about to suggest that,” Captain Singh said.

Barry’s eyes bulged. “Captain Singh! What are y-”

“Well, I wouldn’t be a very good boss if I didn’t check on my best CSI after he fell into my arms early this morning.” He cracked a grin, and Barry blushed.

The doctor excused himself, and Captain Singh shared a look with Barry’s parents before continuing.

“I want you to spend a couple days with your parents, where I know you’ll get well. And then I want you to go on a vacation. Get out of the city for a week, maybe more, and just relax. I know you’ve been setting money aside. The other guys kind of tease you about it behind your back. I’ve called them out on it a few times.”

“We can help him too,” Henry volunteered.

“No, Dad-”

“I know you’re saving up for a car, son. It’s no trouble. We don’t want any more fainting spells, do we?”

Barry was speechless.

“Are you sure?” he finally asked his boss.

“Positive. I want you gone for at least 10 weekdays. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, sir. But um…I don’t know if I have enough PTO for tha-”

“You’ve never taken off a day in your life, and you work too hard. Patty can handle the lab until you’re back to your old self again. And hopefully, you’ll be taking care of yourself better from here on out, yeah?”

Barry pursed his lips and nodded.

“Good.” He smiled, then nodded to the elders Allen’s and headed out.

In due time, the doctor came back and confirmed everyone’s suspicions. No more tests were needed. Barry only needed food, water, and rest to prevent another fainting spell. Some vitamins wouldn’t hurt either.

And so the Allen family took all that advice to heart and made their way out of the hospital as soon as Barry had downed a few cups of orange juice and some crackers. He insisted on stopping at his apartment to pack some things, and reluctantly his parents agreed. Nora was harder to convince since he had some of his things left in his old bedroom from when he occasionally went home, but Henry soothed her long enough for Barry to escape their car and head up into his apartment building.

What he didn’t expect was his neighbor, Felicity, sitting at his kitchen table when he walked through the door.

She spun around as soon as she heard the door open, her eyes wide and panicky.

She had a key to his place for emergencies, just as he did for her. They’d moved in at the same time and become fast friends, but he would’ve liked a little head’s up. Then again, maybe she had texted. He had been a bit busy since he left the apartment a few hours earlier.

“I texted you,” were the first words out of her mouth.

He blinked.

“What’s the emergency?”

“I’m late on my energy bill this month,” she winced. “And the power’s out at my company, so this was the next best option.”

He took a breath and sat down.

“Well, I can’t really help you with the bill, but you’re welcome to stay here for at least the next 10 days.”

She perked up.

“Really? Wait. Why are you home so early anyway?”

He blew air across his face.

“I fainted at work.”

“Barry!” She smacked him lightly. “You didn’t eat anything for breakfast again, did you?”

“I don’t do breakfast, Felicity. You know that.”

She drummed her fingers on the table and tsked with her tongue on her teeth.

“I told you it’d catch up with you.”

“Yeah, well, you were right. I’m just here for a few minutes to grab some stuff. Going to recuperate at my parents’ place for a few days and then apparently go on vacation for a week.”

Her jaw dropped.

“This is your idea?”

“This is my parents and my boss’s idea. It was basically a direct order.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Well, I wouldn’t complain about that.”

He laughed.

“Yeah, I’m not going to.”

She chuckled.

“Want help packing?”

“If you don’t mind?” He held his breath.

She hopped out of her chair.

“Oh, my dear, fainting friend…” She tousled his hair, going up onto her tip toes to do so. “It would be my pleasure.”

He shook his head and followed her down the hall to his bedroom where he pulled out a suitcase and together they packed him just enough for the trip to his parents and maybe a tropical location after that.

“Maybe you’ll go to Hawaii,” Felicity said, enthusiastically.

Barry laughed.

“My dad is not going to splurge on Hawaii. Maybe I’ll go to our family cabin a couple hours north. It’s on a lake, that’s vacation enough. And then they can keep an eye on me too, which I’m sure my mother will want to do.”

Felicity snorted and complained how his mother needed to release her grip on her 28-year-old son.

But they bumped into the elder Allens when they returned to the living room with a packed suitcase about 10 minutes later, and Henry Allen announced the location he had in mind.

“I was thinking…Hawaii.”

Barry blinked, and Felicity’s jaw dropped. She turned to look at him after a beat, amused.

“Don’t…say it.”

“You don’t want to go?” Henry frowned.

Felicity bit down on her bottom lip, fighting a grin. So, Barry pushed her back a bit to address his dad.

“No, of course, I want to, but-”

“Great! Your mother and I are going to go too. And before you say anything. We won’t even be in an adjoining room, so it’ll be like we’re not even there. But if you do need us, we’ll be just down the hall. You can do your thing, and we’ll do ours. By the time we come back, you’ll be more than ready to work without fainting ever again.”

Barry forced a smile.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“So, are you ready?” Nora chirped.

Barry looked down at the suitcase and heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, Felicity helped me pack.”

Having met Felicity and even invited her over to the house a time or two, there was an easiness between the blonde and his parents.

“What a girl.” Henry joked, and Nora jabbed his side.

“Thank you, Felicity, for helping our boy,” she said.

“Mom.”

“Any time, Mrs. Allen. I hope all three of you have an amazing time.”

Henry and Nora smiled genuinely, but Barry shot daggers at her as they left his apartment behind.

“Take pictures!” she shouted as they disappeared down the hall, then sat back down at the table. “And meet a girl for god sake,” she muttered.

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #7 first dates #chapter 1

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thisselflovecamebacktome · 2 years

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Where do I start with this? I guess I’ll just start with saying that this is going to cover topics of the virus, fear of homelessness, mental and physical health, dissatisfaction with politics, domestic violence (sexual and emotional), and workplace harassment. So those are the trigger warnings if anyone is reading this I guess.

Coronavirus/Health:

At the end of 2021 I was feeling extremely downhearted about Coronavirus. Obviously I’m far from the first person who felt that way and I’ll likely be far from the last. But having lived in a city that didn’t get hit with an uncontainable outbreak until August 2021 (and realistically wasn’t deemed as uncontainable until mid to late October 2021), I’ve always felt like my reactions to this pandemic were well and truly delayed from most of the rest of the world’s. Yet simultaneously, it also felt like I was weirdly more scared than a lot of the world because I had seen what this virus could do, the devastation it had caused elsewhere, without being burnt out or desensitised to it consistently being around.

So when, in late October, it became clear that the federal government was no longer going to fund any state that continued lockdowns knowing that most states couldn’t fund it themselves, I went from scared to angry to hopeless very quickly, especially given my mother who I live with hadn’t been vaccinated and has a range of pre-existing conditions.

This really reached a head when, in the week before Christmas, I had a Covid scare where a coworker who had only been to work (as a hotel housekeeper) and seen his fiancé who had only been to work (as a nurse) caught Covid and potentially passed it onto me (another person who had only been to work and seen their family they live with who had also only been to work). While you obviously should not moralise a pandemic, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pissed that I, someone who had literally only left the house to survive, had potentially caught it while a lot of my other coworkers and guests at the hotel I was working at were bragging about how much they travelled for fun/broke the rules and how they hadn’t caught it or it was “not so bad”.

Thankfully for me, I came back negative and left that job to start a new one at a psychology clinic just after the new year. Less thankfully, some of my new coworkers were just as reckless. One in particular, was off with coronavirus when I started. Approximately a month into the job, I got a call from my boss stating that one of the psychologists had caught it, but no one else had yet. Given I hadn’t seen this psychologist all week and was asymptomatic at the time, I was expecting a negative result. What I didn’t know was the one of my reception coworkers who I spend 7.5+ hours with a day had not only gone partying with this psychologist the weekend before, but had also lied about taking a RAT test so that she could attend her brother’s wedding. So yeah, I came back positive and she later felt sick (near the point of hospitalisation) and also came back positive. Have y’all ever worked a 65ish hour week (when you’re meant to work 37.5 and didn’t get paid for the extra) at a job you’ve barely started, at home, with people who are bitter that “you” have made them stay home despite them going out/being higher risk than you, all while fighting the delta variant of Covid and being terrified that you’ll pass it onto your unvaccinated mother with health issues? I don’t recommend it to say the least. Since then, there’s been a few more scares at work, my mother and brother had a few scares, and my brother caught and was almost hospitalised with Covid. Thankfully in all instances, my mother has been able to avoid it.

Though I did not become too ill while having Covid (2 days of a really bad throat), I unfortunately caught what we are hoping is long Covid. A few days after “recovering” and testing negative for Covid, I noticed that I could barely take a few steps without feeling dizzy and exhausted. In my first outing out since the uncontrollable Covid wave hit my state, I went to the plant store with my family and had to sit down in each aisle and sit and eat for an hour before being able to drive home. After some research, I learned that Covid fatigue was a thing and could last up until 3 months after catching it, especially given I had just worked that 65 hour week. So I didn’t think much more of it past joking with my boss that I may look overtired when I went back to work the following Monday. However, within the month I started noticing that I was consistently losing and regaining vision in my left eye, the left side of my face going completely numb and drooping for up to an hour at a time, consistent headaches when I rarely had them before and moments where I couldn’t comprehend speak even if I could comprehend that someone was speaking to me. As someone with a family history of strokes, I was terrified and went to the hospital. My mother, the most “buckle down and just work through it” person I know even reached the point of tears and begging me to quit my job and take it easier because she doesn’t want to lose another daughter, and if I’m honest with you, that moment will stick with me forever. It’s since been about 2 months of being in and out of hospital, getting blood and brain scans done to ultimately be told “yes there’s extra matter on your brain. No there’s nothing further we can do. Come back in 6 months if you’re not better”. And while obviously I’m glad that I’m hopefully not on death’s doorstep, the idea of having to do the “thoughts and prayers” approach and just sit back as I feel my body deteriorate to a level I didn’t think possible, especially at this age, has put me in a state of grief I haven’t felt since before I accepted my family situation for what it was... and that’s saying a lot.

Work

So obviously a lot of my work situation has been tied up in what I’ve said above and what I’ll say below in terms of feared homelessness, but on top of that, for about a quarter of the time I was at my current job, I faced unfair treatment by a new manager. While there was only one instance where I could fully put my finger and articulate “No this is bullshit and not my fault and this is why”, it reached a point where I physically felt anxious and nauseous just being around this person and my boss had to get involved.

As a bit of background to this, my boss had only recently taken over the company late last year. When the new year came in, his daughter (somewhat ironically) started having the same issues as me with something happening with her brain but no one knowing what. Up until this new manager came, my coworker who’s brother had the wedding was pretty much doing the manager role, but like how I have been, she had a bunch of other responsibilities and illnesses. So when we had a meeting in my first month at this job and the boss announced we were getting an actual manager, we assumed my coworker had said it was too much for her. Turns out she had not and felt blindsided by it all. So when the day came for the new manager to start, she was bitter.

Given all of this, despite it not being my job and me not knowing how to do half the manager stuff, I trained the new manager. Somewhere along the way, my coworker seemingly warmed up to the new manager and suddenly they were taking long smoke breaks and siding with each other on everything. My coworker even started training the manager in the manager stuff. And in theory, that was good. I didn’t have to worry about stuff not getting done or cold energies between them. But then the true colours showed.

Like I said, there’s only one real instance where I can put my foot down and say that the new manager very obviously mistreated me to the point it can’t be denied. Before that, it was a mix of microaggressions, expectations and just a lack of giving me the benefit of the doubt where she would with my coworker in matters that were seemingly my fault. In one instance, I was blamed for cancelling an appointment the psychologist this patient was seeing cancelled. In another, I was blamed for booking in a patient with a psychologist who usually does but was not currently taking on that age range. However, when I went to call the client, they told me that they had spoken directly to the boss who gave that recommendation and told them to call me, something I did not remember until the client said it.

In both instances, I gave the manager the benefit of the doubt that it was just because she was new and stressed that she had misread things. And in what I now realised was a mistake, I tried to be diplomatic and ask her to give me the same respect she had given my coworker and ask before accusing me so that I could try to keep my anxiety down. I didn’t even ask for an apology even though I deserved one. She responded by convincing my boss that he didn’t need to be involved with the reception staff and anything, complaints included, had to be run through her before going to my boss. She also started bringing in new measures like not working from home, the need for medical attendance certificates for even an hour off (usually it’s 2 days in my country), expecting us to work overtime if we spent even a minute extra on lunch (our workplace is very lenient on people coming back from lunch late so long as it’s not ridiculously much later, but also this impacted me more than them because my health issues have meant I couldn’t drive to work and my times were discussed with my boss to make sure I don’t have to wait around for a bus) and more. She even reached a point where, in front of my coworkers, she pretty much told me that the boss was super unhappy with me despite him singing my praises the week before. During this process, my coworker said nothing. After a few weeks of her and my coworker blaming me for every mistake (whether because they thought I made the mistake but overblew it in a way their mistakes weren’t or because me not being there due to illness meant they were too busy which led them to take shortcuts) and just generally being icy towards me, I started questioning if I should leave for everyone’s sake.

Eventually, the day came where the manager mistreated me in the undeniable way. In short, one of the psychologists had contacted my boss and us to say she was a household contact and was working from home for a week. I was ill on that day, but my boss asked me to work from home, so I called the psychologist’s clients for that day and let them know. The manager found out and said she didn’t want me working from home so I let her know that I had called that day’s clients but none of the rest and if the manager didn’t want me working from home, she or my coworker had to call them. The manager said that that’d be fine. Given the psychologist only worked 4 days in the isolation time and had a 5 day break in between me being ill and her next shift and the others didn’t say anything about not calling the psychologist’s clients in between, I just assumed the job was done. It was only when the psychologist called on the day of her next shift that I had learned it hadn’t been done. When I asked the others about it, the manager twisted it as my fault because I, a low level employee who was in hospital, should have checked it was done and not just assumed that either of them were capable enough to do it even though she assured me it would be done instead of her as the manager who was physically at work and telling me not to work from home doing it or checking it was done. I spent my lunch time with the worst stroke related symptoms I’ve had in this experience to the point I couldn’t eat and cried pretty much all the way home before calling my boss and telling him that I was quitting. Even then, I didn’t say it was because of her or what happened, just that my health had reached the point where I could no longer work. He asked for one final conversation with me before I quit, and even though I knew he would ask me to stay, given the respect and lenience he had shown me in my time working this job, I said yes with a side that I had medical appointments the rest of the week so it’d be the next week.

The following Monday he pulled me aside and we had coffee. Before I could even bring up anything, he told me that my coworker had dobbed in the manager for bullying me and asked that if that was the reason I was leaving, to give him time and he’d sort things out. While I believed him, I was at a point where given all the psychological chess games being played on all ends, I knew deep down I could not stay because I wouldn’t be able to trust my coworker, him or any new manager in case it happened again. So I told him about the undeniable event, to which he agreed I was not at fault and hinted that it was not a first off for the manager to blame me for something he felt was on her, but ultimately said I was leaving for health reasons. And in all fairness, that is true. It is just that some of those reasons are psychological due to his other staff’s actions. We agreed we would get two people to replace me (he noted the extra hours I had done, which, to this day is now around 45 extra hours, but maintained that I would not get paid for them which added to why I am leaving) as soon as possible and I agreed to stay until they can be reasonably trained and stay on as part time in the meanwhile. He made sure I knew I didn’t have to rush out the door when the new people came, but as it is, I will be finishing up this week.

Since then, my health and housing situation got worse and things did not get better with the manager despite my boss talking to her. On the day of my MRI, I received communication from my boss saying that my manager no longer works with us. Later that day, when I tried to upload my medical certificate, the email password had been changed. I have since had my suspicions confirmed by my coworker that the manager was fired, but have no clue exactly how it went down. Although I would be lying if I said I didn’t have my guesses. My coworker has also flipped back to disliking the now ex manager.

While I am devastated about the reasons behind it and anxious that I’m not going to find anything better and will be unsatisfied in every job, I am genuinely looking forward to finishing up this week and having a break in the form of my first holiday since early 2020 next week with one of my best friends.

Feared Homelessness:

As if being the sickest I’ve ever been consistently from factors I had to be in to survive and facing bullying at work wasn’t enough of a reason to hate capitalism and lose faith in the government, my mother have been put in a position by our state government (our landlords) where we are fighting a legal battle just to stay in my childhood home that we’ve lived in for 25 years.

Just after I “recovered” from Covid, we received a notice saying that we would need to vacate our house permanently as the government is planning to redevelop it as it’s “too expensive” to keep up maintenance (which is laughable given they have done shit all maintenance in the last 15 years despite our begging). As part of this notice, we it was made clear that we would not be moving back into the redeveloped place, but there was no indication of what would happen next/if they even had a property for us to move into. As you can imagine, the next few days were us scrambling around contacting anyone we could think of to help us. Eventually, the minister for Housing got back to us and said that while she still expected us to move, she would send over workers to calm any fears we had about it and assured us that we would be moved into another public property and that all of our requirements would be met.

However, during the meeting, it was made very clear very quickly that not only were our needs not going to be met, but that they wanted to isolate my mother away from my brother and I not just as her support system, but due to my legal knowledge from having a law degree. My mother was pushed to sign off consent to move before seeing any properties, told that my brother and I could not have notice to give to work to go to house showings (part of the reason I quit my job was to make sure I could be around in case we needed to go to a meeting or showing with such short notice) and impressed upon that the longer she waited to agree the worse the properties would be with even the best of them likely not being up to the standard of this house. We were also made aware that the reason we could not move back after redevelopment was because the house was not getting redeveloped at all, it was being sold at auction due to us living in a wealthy part of town with the government not willing to entertain us buying it. They were also unwilling to confirm that this would never happen again.

Around the same time, I contacted the CEO of ACTCOSS as she was pushing back on the forced relocation of ACT residents. After telling her how the meeting went, she informed me that there are approximately 300 households in our state that are in our position and that over a third of them had contacted her telling similar stories to ours. She also noted that my mother (who is in her mid sixties with disabilities) was in the majority group of vulnerable citizens being “targeted” on the guise of the government saying it’s due to the houses being older. She also noted that she was putting media pressure and having meetings with the government to try to get them to back off, and while she has had some success, especially with it being a federal election year, it felt more like she was pushing off the inevitable than actually getting them to stop at this point.

Since then, on the advice of the CEO of ACTCOSS (and my own instinct regardless), we have sought out legal advice, put in an exemption request (a formality, we expect it will be knocked back but don’t want to be accused of not doing all we can to fight) and written to as many politicians as we can. Ultimately, it does feel like we are still going to have to move, but we’ll definitely be doing all we can to stay in the meanwhile and I am grateful that the CEO of ACTCOSS and her allies continue all they can to help and that we’re not fully alone in this.

As part of their help, my mother and I attended a group meeting last week where I realised that somehow, we were among the people least fucked over by this program. During the 2 hour meeting, I heard about people living in their houses for 40+ years being kicked out and others who had put over $15,000AUD into their properties because the government refused to fix things or put in ramps for those who had had a stroke or otherwise became physically disabled. All of them told similar stories to us about feeling like the government was trying to isolate them, in some cases, having government employees break the law by showing up to these vulnerable citizen’s places unannounced so that no family would be there. Suddenly my mother’s paranoia that someone was sitting in a car watching the house recently didn’t seem so paranoid, especially knowing they came and verbally abused my mother at one point and only left because my brother came out of the house.

The whole thing has been a mess, and honestly, the stress from it has probably the biggest contributor of my declining health. It has also instilled a new hopelessness when it comes to the government in me. Because while it’s easy to blame Covid or the 2019 fires or whatever else on the conservative federal government, my state government has never been so left winged. Out of 25 seats, we have 10 of them being occupied by the major left/centrist party and 6 (4 more than usual) being occupied by the extreme left minor party. When we had our state election in late 2020, I really thought this outcome would lead to a place where the left/centrist party would be challenged and not just stay complacent in their 20+ year tenure as our state leaders. And yet, these same systems that prey on vulnerable people are in place with the minor left party siding with the centrists rather than pushing for better. And honestly? I’m devastated and so disillusioned by that to the point where I don’t know if I can ever even advocate for the minor left party anymore (obviously I do not feel like the right wing party will do better, don’t twist my words, but yeah, I definitely expected better than this from a left winged government). Like these politicians built careers off of the guise of caring for the vulnerable and sharing their own experiences with living in public housing just to turn into class traitors and kick everybody else out for having the same experiences.

Personal Life.

Personal life? Does that exist with all the other chaos going on and me barely leaving the house? Surprisingly yes. Is a lot of it good? Unsurprisingly no.

Around the time I had my first Covid scare last year, my then partner and I were having a rough patch because he felt more confident being out in public while I was still staying home outside of work. This led to a place where he went to a Christmas party where we fought over the phone, and, not that I realised it was at the time, unwillingly ended up in bed with his ex. When he came back, he told me that he had slept with her and left me just before I caught Covid. Given that this ex was always abusive (age gap with her being in a position of power, csa, grooming etc), I obviously told him he was making a mistake, but somehow the situation was worse than I even imagined. Because it turns out that the version of events I created in my head where she convinced him to drink a lot and sleep with her because she was there and I “refused” to be wasn’t bad enough. She had actually drugged him and tied him down. Moreso, the day he left me was the day she told him she was pregnant, claiming it was his and refusing to let him have access if he didn’t stay with her all while abusing him in the meanwhile and threatening to say he attacked then abandoned her if he left.

And before anyone starts with “he could have fought that legally” yeah, but you need money for that and unfortunately all his money is wrapped up in a family who (apart from his brother was also abused by this woman) to this day is defending her despite knowing what she did. She also hadn’t left her husband nor told him what happened throughout all of this. So it was months of heart-breaking conversations where I thought my ex was regretting his decision and was heartbroken over her treating him like a toy rather than loving him when in reality it was a dumpster fire. In a weird way, it is very Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca-esk with having the absolute wrong impression about a situation and if it wasn’t so serious, I’d laugh.

Anyway, long story short, he ended up telling me what happened and that he was planning to get a paternity test but stay with her if it is his. When the time came, the child wasn’t his and she acted in such a way that she is now in prison for assault, her husband knows everything and while my ex is obviously scarred, he at least has a chance to recover. I don’t know what the future holds for us, and hopefully it is together, but for now, that’s enough.

Otherwise, I’m hoping it’s blue skies from here. As alluded to, everything that has happened has shifted how I see my life at the moment, and while I’m not rushing to be unsafe, it’s clear that life stops for no one and I need to do things while I still am able. So from the 11th to 18th of May, I’m going out of my state for the first time in nearly 2 1/2 years for a holiday. And while I have already made changes I never would have which would otherwise cause me anxiety (quitting a job without having something else lined up etc), on the most part I am feeling secure that this is the right path for me and I’ll be ready for whatever comes next.

#this is just me catching my breath and trying to articulate what's happened to me this year #so if you're not here for my personal life (which is your right) this is not the post for you #about me

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scandinavianfairytale · 2 years

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He’s one of the good ones

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Nurse Reader

Warnings: Curse words, one (1) dirty joke, mentioned boss-employee relationship, objectification, brief description of a fight, stab wound, light spoilers for the movie, Bruce is actually a sweetheart 🥰

A/N: The prequel is now posted 😊 This will hurt 😊

“Wait, wait, wait...I’m not sure if I understand you correctly. Not only are you working for him, but you’re also sleeping with him? What the hell, girl?” Your friend asked, looking pointingly at you.

“I’m in a relationship with him.” You corrected, giving her a small glare. “But yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

“Are you insane?”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, I know the last guy was a loser, but even he was a better choice than Bruce fucking Wayne. He’s a broody loner, holed up in that tower. I’m pretty sure a wall is more entertaining than him. I never said anything about it when you said you got a job with him, but now I gotta say something. What on Earth are you planning on doing with him? You have nothing in common and your personalities are completely different. Did you even think about the future?”

“I-”

“Also, really, sleeping with your employer? How many times have you seen that having a happy ending?” She paused. “Although I’m pretty sure he has a lot of happy endings right now.” She laughed at her own joke.

“You had to go there?” You glared at her.

“Oh, lighten up.” There was a moment of silence as she stared at you. “Well, are you gonna start talking?” Your first response was an eye-roll.

“You are right, we have little in common, he is reclusive and he doesn't have friends. But he treats me better than any of my exes ever did and he doesn't object to me going out, having fun or meeting friends, even if he doesn’t join. He is kind, smart and surprisingly funny, so he’s more entertaining than a wall. What I feel when I’m with him...I have never felt like that before. There is no second guessing or doubts. I...he’s one of the good ones, you know?” You met her eyes as you stopped describing the man you were now seeing.

“Oh God...you’re really in love with him, aren’t you?” Your friend commented as she watched a small smile tug at your lips as you described Bruce Wayne.

“I am.” Your smile deepened. Your friend raised her glass and you clinked it.

“To you, for finally falling in love. Even though I still think it’s a bad idea. But I’m not going to stand in love’s way.” She smiled.

“So tell me, more about him and how you met.”

You didn’t tell her the whole story. The story you told to your friends and family is that he saved you from getting mugged. But in reality you both saved each other. Kind of.

It was raining again. It shouldn't have surprised you, this was Gotham for Christ's sake...yet you still went out without an umbrella. To your defense, you didn't plan on staying out as long as you did. You just went to meet with your now ex to break-up with him. That was over quickly, but then you met a friend and decided to grab lunch...and then coffee and then drinks. So now it was 3 am and you were walking down the street completely drenched after 2 minutes in the rain that dulled the shine of your yellow sweater.

"Hello, Sunshine." The man, sitting on the sidewalk slurred. He had a long night as well. You gave him a curt nod before passing him. You found that if you just briefly acknowledge them, they tend to leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, sometimes you were wrong, just like in this case. But usually you have an umbrella with you...

"Come on, Sunshine, don't be rude. At least say hello." He caught up with you. Your hands balled up under your arms, as you were trying to hold back a shiver from the wind on your damp skin.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." He grabbed your elbow, pulling you towards him. You yelped in surprise, your eyes the size of saucers.

"Let me go." You finally managed to let out, as the shock let its grip of you go.

"Why don't we have some fun. I promise, you won't regret it." The man smirked when you started trashing in his grasp. Your body tensed up and you kicked at his shins and he released you, cursing you out. You started running, the man right on your heels. He was gaining on you and you whimpered as the idea of what might happen next creeped up on you.

*THUMP* was heard and you looked back, to see the man lying on the ground. Another man was standing above him. He briefly met your eyes, nodding, before the drunk man got up, taking a knife from his belt, swinging at your savior. Your instincts told you to run, but you decided to stay and try to help. The two men were engrossed in the fight and you were just trying to spot an opening. Unfortunately when you found it, your savior was the one that got startled and the drunk man managed to stab him in the shoulder.

There was fortune in misfortune, as even though your savior was just stabbed, you were still close enough to the drunk that you managed to get behind him and put him in a chokehold, holding him until he stopped trashing.

"Hey...thank you. And I’m sorry." You stepped to your savior, offering your hand. He looked at you and you finally registered who was kneeling in-front of you.

Bruce Wayne.

He took your hand and you pulled yourself out of your daze, pulling him on his feet. He stared at your bright yellow sweater, before meeting your eyes again.

"Are you alright?" He asked after a few moments of silence. His voice matched the broodiness he exuded.

"Yeah. Yes. Um, I guess I'm a bit shocked about everything that just happened.” You paused, waiting for a response. "It's just I didn't know you actually go out. No one has seen you in years." You continued when the elusive man refused to speak. He kept his gaze on you. You swallowed down everything that you wanted to add.

"Just...thank you. There's not many people that would help in this city." You smiled at him, your face lighting back up again. Bruce looked at your hand that was still holding his and you quickly let go. He brought it over his wound and nodded at you. He wanted to leave, but you touched his un-hurt shoulder, stopping him.

“My place is just down the block. I have medical supplies at home and I can stich you up. I promise it won’t leave a scar.” You smiled at him.

“You don’t have to.” He gently shook his head.

“I want to. It’s the least I can do, since I’m the reason why you got stabbed.” You sheepishly said.

When Bruce entered your apartment, you quickly made him change into dry clothes and made him tea to warm up, before really patching him up. He left pretty much the next second, but stopped by a week later with the clothes and an offer for a job.

Bruce was out when you returned, which was weird, since you didn’t notice the bat signal in the sky. But you figured that either you missed it, or Bruce just decided to check some thing out. Saying hello to Alfred, you made your way to the “bat cave” with your book The Midnight Library and propped up on one of the chairs, waiting for your boyfriend / boss to come back.

You were startled awake as the entrance to the “bat cave” opened and Bruce returned.

He ignored you, taking his mask off and pulling his contacts out. Stretching, you made your way to him, your arms embracing him and kissing the back of his neck.

“Sorry I was out so long. You should go to sleep, I’m fine, just a couple of bruises.” Bruce commented as he rewound the footage.

“It’s fine. What happened?” You sighed as you looked through his shoulder and gasped as you saw the murdered mayor. Bruce turned to face you, blocking your view.

“I don’t want you to see this. Please, go upstairs and I will join you shortly. I just want to review what happened.” He caressed your face, before kissing you softly.

“He lies still.” You said after you parted. Bruce nodded and leaned his forehead on yours. Your hands traced the black paint he used to fill in the eye holes once his mask was on.

“You go through more of my make-up remover than I do. I should really get a raise.” You smiled at him, making it bigger once he smiled back at you.

“I think we can work something up. I can be persuaded.” Bruce chuckled.

This was the Bruce you loved. This was the man no one saw. Which was equally heart-breaking and heart-warming.

Thank you for reading! 😊🙏

The GIFs are not mine, they belong to the amazing creators 😊

I think I might do a second part to this...at some point 😊 I saw the new Batman movie this week and I was pleasantly surprised! I really loved the movie, so much so, I will go see it again this week 😁

Also I am reading this book right now and I am so pumped up about it, can't wait to finish it! 😊💙

#robert pattinson #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #the batman #batman x reader #batman imagine #batman #fanfic #short story #he's one of the good ones #battinson #battinson x reader #battinson imagine

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imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Note

How big do you think Steve is....? 👀☕

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I've got like a lot of feelings and thots about this but I'll just summarize them with this... smut, Steve has bde and a big🍆🍆, cumplay, this is like really filthy.

"Yes... um, Captain," Stacey bit her lip, she couldn't help herself. She knew she shouldn't be checking out her friends man but she was sure you'd forgive her. This was Captain freaking America. It would be an injustice to not appreciate his beauty. "What brings you to our little corner today?"

"Um... I'm here to see L/N," blushing a deep shade of pink and rubbing the back of his neck. The bouquet of lillies in his hand, and one of chocolates in another only making him stand out more so.

Stacy chuckled at his misery. "You call her by her last name? Hm... I actually think she'd like it better if it was the other way around."

Steve quirked a brow because he didn't understand what she meant by that. Smiling when he saw you return to your seat. "What're you doing here?" with a sweet smile on your face. Leaning up on your tippy toes to give him a small peck on his lips. "It's a nice surprise."

"Just wanted to give you these," he said as he handed the flowers and the chocolates over to you, "And to ask you to maybe have dinner at my place tonight?"

You giggled as you opened the lid of the box, mouth watering at the variety of sweets to select from, "Stevie, we're in a relationship now. You don't have to ask me out every single time." As you plopped a mint one in your mouth.

"It still feels nice to," He said before kissing you goodbye to return to his floor.

You offered some of your chocolates to Stacey, who seemed to be giving you the side eye for some reason.

"Is it true?" She asked.

"Is what true?"

"Does he have a fifteen inch long cock?"

Which made you choke on the coconut that was in your third chocolate. "What the hell?!"

"You gotta tell me. I promise I'll cover any of your shifts for you while you go on getaways with him to like Europe or something. I'll do your boring paper work. Alright, I understand you wanna keep his privacy," she nodded, bringing her hands together, "Just say when," She said as her palms started drifting apart.

"Stop that!" you swatted at her palms. "I don't know how big he is. We're taking it slow." You huffed. Going slow was his idea. He was old school in that way. You had no idea how you had resisted from climbing him like a tree for so many months.

"Listen, girl, it's just that he has major BDE. When he gives those speeches, and those clips of him fighting bad guys, you just know he has a big dick."

You did believe he had big dick energy as well. At a low moment you told him your supervisor was being an ass to you, even calling you a slut once for dating Captain America. You didn't want to burden him with your problems, which seemed to insignificant in front of his, and you didn't want him to do anything brash.

The very next day he paid your boss a visit. He didn't flaunt the fact that he was Captain America or a very powerful man. He didn't need to. He naturally had a very commanding presence. He just gave a long lecture to your boss on how to respect women, after which they never bothered you again.

You'd never admit this to Steve but you literally wanted to jump his bones them. He looked so fucking hot defending your honor like that. He was your knight in shining armor and you'd let him to anything to you.

Not to mention, you could see the outline of his probably long and thick dick in his jogging pants. That one unfortunate morning you agreed to go running with him. The only good thing that came out of it was that you got to oggle his ass and his dick.

You could feel his hands squeezing your breasts over your dress, you broke the kiss to take a look at him. Glassy eyes and cheeks flushed red, his chest heaving because you took his breath away.

"I wanna go all the way, Stevie." You demanded. "I've waited long enough for you."

"You know I could never say no to you, doll. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Which he most definitely did. He must've spent like an hour between your legs, using his mouth and his fingers, worshipping evey inch of your body. You felt him rutting against the mattress but chose not to say anything.

"Wait, stop..." you pushed his head away, your pussy too sensitive after the third orgasm to be touch again as he pouted up at you. You sat up on your butt, "I wanna suck your cock," you said, making grabby hands for it.

"Um... you sure, doll? You don't have to," he was too shy to be naked in front of you. He still had his pants and underwear on. You were going to insist that he take it all off but you could barely handle a shirtless Steve, a completely naked one would probably turn your brain to mush.

"Yes I want it! Do you not want me?" your voice quivering just a little. You knew he wanted you, of course he did. But why can't he be vulnerable with you like you are with him?

"No no," he cupped your face, kissing your forehead, "Of course I want you. I want you more than anything else in the world. It's just that... I'm big. Before the serum it was pretty average and now... women get surprised a little."

"How big?" you sniffled.

"I guess you'll see," he said, pulling his briefs and his pants down at the same time.

You let out a loud gasp when you saw it. A literal monster cock. "Oh my god...." you breathed out, "I don't think that's gonna fit in me, Stevie.."

It was the biggest you've ever seen. Pink, long and thick, you could even make out a few veins on it, standing tall and proud against his hard abs, some blonde hair at the base of it. Pearly pre ejaculate oozing out of him, which made you salivate.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that, angel," he stroked your hair, "That's for me to figure out. You just have to sit there and make good on your promise. Now come on, open up," he tapped his tip on your lips and you opened as wide as you could.

He wasn't even halfway in when he hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He softly fucked into your mouth, which some sucking and help from you. Holding onto your head lovingly as he spoke about how good you made him feel.

"You gonna swallow it for me?" he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

'I wouldn't let a drop escape.' You wanted to say but it came out all jumbled since your mouth was stuffed full.

Finally you felt ropes of his spend hit the back of your throat. You were naive to think you'd swallow it all. You could barely get half of it no matter how hard you tried, most of it spilled out of your mouth and onto your chest.

He finally pulled out, looking at his girl so proudly, so eager to please him.

"I'm sorry," you said, as you tried to gather as much of his cummies off your body as you could. It tasted salty, the aftertaste being just a little bit sweet. You wondered if that was because of the serum too. "I promise I'll get it all next time. I'll be more prepared."

"'is not your fault, doll. There's... a lot of it."

"I like that though," you whined up at him as you licked your fingers, "I like it. It means you love me so much you made like tons of goodies for me."

He chuckled at that, pecking your lips, "I do love you a lot."

He made you lie back to make sure you were comfortable, wrapping your legs around his hips, "You tell me if it hurts okay, baby?" he asked to which you gave him a meek nod.

Bracing yourself for the pain. Despite how wet and ready and relaxed you were, it still hurt initially. But you asked him to keep going because you wanted to make him feel good and take all of him.

After a few moments you asked him to move.

"Your dick is so beautiful, Stevie." You beamed up at him.

"Not as beautiful as you, doll." He groaned as he pulled his hips back before rutting back into you.

"Nooo," you whined. This man needed to learn how to take a compliment! "No, your dick is so pretty. It's yours, and I'm in love with it."

"I'll promise you one thing, honey. You'll be the only one who gets to see it again from now on. It's for your eyes only now."

"Forever?" you pouted.

"Yes, forever."

You looked down at where both your sexes were joined together, "Looks like we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on, Captain," you said as you clenched around him, making him bite the crook of your neck.

"Did you just give my dick a petname?"

"Yes, do you like it?" you asked, hopefully.

Steve would rather have you call him Captain. But you seemed so excited, "Yes, of course. You can call it whatever you like, baby."

He was trying to pull out of you to come, of course you wouldn't have that so you pulled him closer to you by wrapping your legs around him.

"I'm good..." you rasped, "got an implant and everything." Which would protect you from having any super soldier babies. "Please come in me."

"How can I say no that," his thrusts became a little more rushed and erratic. You could feel his warm cum fill you up and then ooze out of you as he pulled out.

He tched as he looked at your swollen pussy, "That won't do..." he said as he tried to push his cum inside of you but it was too much for your small cute pussy.

"I've got plugs at my home we can use to keep it in..." you moaned, extra sensitive to his touch then. "Can I have some more of it, please?"

You asked as he scoped your combined juices up with his fingers before feeding it to you.

"Just for now, doll. Next time we'll try that plug idea of yours," he said as he made sure you thoroughly sucked his fingers clean.

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you

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jarofstyles · 3 years

Note

more gang/mafia harry. literally anything ur heart desires I just want gang/mafia!harry

Ok…. So maybe went overboard with this, but dark Harry feeds the soul (or takes it lmao)

But this is what I imagine he’s like when someone threatens or attempts to hurt Y/N.

TW/ guns, violence, blood, bad language and just altogether dark oops

—————

Harry wasn’t a man to cross.

It was known by almost all. And when you say almost, it’s because a select portion of the population doesn’t seem to care much about their lives. At all.

It was widely known that he was brutal. Harry didn’t give second chances, sometimes he barely gave a first. You simply didn’t fuck with him. Period. He was protective of his own and the consequences of messing with them were showing to be quite deadly.

There weren’t many things that he held dear in his life. His mum and sister, yes. His core group of inner men, though even to them they may not know it. But Y/N was at the very top of that list, and that unfortunately made her a target. A large one.

Harry had people watching for her whenever she left. Perhaps that was excessive to some, but he would damned if he let anything happen to the one beam of sunshine in his life. She was his joy, his love, his breath. And no one fucked with her.

When they did, though? It wasn’t pretty.

He had gotten the call that a man had been tailing Y/N as she did her day to day. Sitting outside her apartment, waiting for her to leave. When she felt someone following, she called Harry and immediately he had his men on it. Surrounding the car before he even knew what happened. And while Harry usually didn’t do dirty work himself…. This was a very special occasion.

“I suggest shutting the fuck up.” He rolled his eyes as the guy tried to babble out excuses, Harry rolling up his sleeves as he walked into the room. His demeanor was dark and heavy. Angry. Livid. Because the man tied in front of him had nefarious intentions with his angel of a woman, and he wouldn’t be unpunished.

“You’re going to nod yes or no.” Harry took the gun from his waistband and cocked it, flicking off the safety. The man trembled in the seat, nodding yes frantically. God. Pathetic.

“You had rope in the trunk of your car. Rope. Chains. A few knives. Plastic bags. Weapons. Light fluid. Correct?” He listed off, internally roaring with rage while on the outside still remaining cool. “Don’t just sit there like a fucking idiot. Yes or no?” He clenched his jaw as the man nodded his head.

“You did. I saw it. And you were following my angel around. Yes or no?” He stepped closer, fist clenched against his side. Again, he nodded. This man was done for. “That was a mistake. You’ve got the be the stupidest person in the world. Did you think it was going to be that easy?” He took the gun and pressed it under the coward’s chin to lift it up. “Did you?”

The venom in his tone was felt in the room. It was known then that this man wasn’t going to be okay. “What were you going to do, Bradley? Hm? Were you going to hurt my angel?” His breathing picked up, waiting for a nod or a shake of the head. When he didn’t get one, his hand drew back and slammed right into the man’s face with a sickening crunch.

The man’s howl of pain only angered Harry more. How dare he think he had the right to make any noise when he was going to hurt his girl?

“Yes or no, you fucking piece of shit.” His growl was deep and he sounded truly evil. At the moment? Harry felt it. He had done a lot of fucked up things in his day, but the things he was envisioning doing to this man who threatened someone so pure and genuine? They were sick. He probably needed therapy.

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry!” He sobbed when again Harry’s hand came up and hit him with force that nearly knocked his bound body and chair over. Blood poured from his nose and his lip was split. There was no remorse from Harry.

“You’re sorry?” He snickered, shaking his head. “You’re going to be. You’re going to tell me who hired you, you sick fuck. And then I’m going to make you regret everything. Taking this job, scaring my girl, the day you were fucking born. The girl you were going to harm has no play in this. She’s mine. That’s it. And you’d think that you’d do a bit of research into just who you’re going to hit.” His green eyes were black with rage.

“Boss? Y/N’s in your office. She’s shaken up, you should probably go see her before you get too dirty.” A voice behind him let him in, making his spine straighten up again. Y/N was always the priority, regardless of how bloodthirsty he felt right now. He needed to make sure she was okay.

“I’ll be right there.” He spoke lowly, stepping back from the man who had just signed over his life. “You sit tight. I’ll be right back after I make sure my fiancé is doing okay. Your life has been extended a few minutes due to her. Thank whatever god you believe in because when I come back, it isn’t going to be a fun ride to meet them.”

Before leaving the room, he lifted the gun and pointed it at the man’s knee, pulling the trigger. The loud bang filled the room, along with the screams of the man as the door shut behind him. It was fine to comfort his girl.

When he had her shaking form in his arms, her tears soaking his shirt, gently soothing her terrified soul, he felt that rage raise again. No one got away with hurting her.

#harry angst #angst #blurb #gangrry #gang!harry #mafiarry #mafia Harry #blurbs #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #Harry styles angst #protective Harry #harry styles fanfic

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

Kiss me quick

Pairing: Spike x Summers!reader

Request: Hi! Can I request a Spike x Summers!reader, where the reader is trying to keep their relationship on the downlow since none of the Scoobies really approve, but after a big win the reader finally kisses him in front of everyone, proving that they do care deeply for one another and everyone just has to accept it.

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Reader gets injured but nothing serious. sex references/implication of sex.

You looked out into dimly lit street, the dark had surrounded you now but ever since you had been meeting this way you couldn’t help but smile whenever the sun began to descend from the sky. You were stood, under a streetlamp, three streets away from your house. Just far enough where nobody from your household would catch you meeting him this way. You had been meeting like this for a while now.

He got a kick out of coming up behind you and immediately pressing you against the nearest wall and crashing his lips to yours. His favourite greeting entailed leaving you breathless and ready to pull him closer no matter what your surroundings were. He often mumbled his hellos through stolen kisses. His passion never died, he was all in. Completely yours.

You couldn’t shake this feeling. That you were completely in love. You had silently tried to fight it to begin with, knowing that those around you wouldn’t approve. That Spike himself may not even reciprocate your feelings. But soon it became clear that there was no hiding these feelings that always bubbled to the surface whenever he was near.

You had started fooling around to begin with, before it all changed. For the better, both of you agreed. Your feelings had taken hold of you both, fuelled by the touch of skin. The depth of mind. Unspoken emotions kept the two of you in a chokehold before you finally spilled your feelings for the other.

Ever since you quit college, you had spent all of your free time sneaking around with Spike. It was, honestly, as thrilling as it was annoying. As much as you wished you could just tell everyone how much you loved Spike - how amazing he was with you, you couldn’t. You had to hide it, the implications of your friends and sisters finding out would be a fate worse than death. In fact, for spike it may mean actual death this time.

Unfortunately, you were the middle child. You were a year younger than Buffy and she never let you forget about it. Meaning, Buffy thought she was the boss of you. Not to mention Dawn basically clung onto your leg to stop you from leaving the house (and thus, preventing you leaving her behind where she couldn’t follow you around). This meant that, often, you didn’t get much spare time for sneaking around with Spike. But, God, did you make it your biggest priority. After… saving the world… obviously.

When you did manage to share these intimate moments, it was everything. It felt as if you were the only people in the world. The only people that had ever felt anything close to this. Nobody had loved this deep. Cared this much. You were both so sure. These feelings, they were eternal. He vowed it to you, one early morning you had spent with your naked bodies pressed together, baring your souls well into the night.

Any emotional scars you harboured seemed to heal just by speaking to him. By having that soothing voice share his own darkest moments with you in return. How that voice, those eyes could have seen and done so much and still make you feel undeniably safe you weren’t sure. But, you trusted him. Even if danger appeared to surround him at every turn. You wouldn’t change him for anything. You loved the good, the bad and the oh-so-attractive parts of him.

Vulnerabilities turned to strengths when you were together. Rough edges appeared smoother. Promises held meaning. You adored him and he confessed to you that he had never been so comfortable in a relationship. He could be himself, could express his feelings without being concerned you would turn away from him.

The first night you invited him into your home made him elated. You had to make him swear not to tell Buffy because you knew she wouldn’t take it well. Like, at all. As much as he would have loved to rub it in the slayer’s face that he had been given access to her house – he loved you too much to even think to upset you in this way. So, you carried on this way, unable to keep your hands and lips from each other for more than an evening at a time. This meant mostly, he stayed at the Summer’s residence or you left to the crypt. Sometimes, you even went for real dates – so long as you were sure that everyone else you knew would be busy elsewhere.

Tonight, you were going to the Bronze together. It was a little more of a risk than usual, but he had insisted on taking you somewhere he knew you would enjoy. Muttered something about not keeping you in the shadows before taking your hand and leading the way. The truth was, Spike was in fact just very smitten with you. And he pretty much wanted everyone to see that you were with him. This was ‘everyone’ except the scoobies and any family members you happened to have crawling out of the woodwork. It was safe though, everyone else was going to some college party and Buffy had told you that it was uncool to have her younger sibling come along.

Buffy was the only one that viewed you as the ‘younger sibling’ the others were friends with you because they were fond of you. Because, well, sometimes you appeared more mature than Buffy did – not that they would ever say that to her face. Although there was always that slight worry that if they hadn’t been friends with Buffy they wouldn’t have been as close with you. You were barely a year younger than Buffy but she was still incredibly protective of you as she was the oldest.

What you hadn’t banked on, whilst you rubbed Spike’s thigh under the table, was that Xander hadn’t been invited to the party. He saw you immediately and made his way over to you with Anya close behind. You almost choked on your drink as you saw them come up behind Spike. You snapped your hand away in shock much to Spike’s displeasure.

“Hey, Y/n-” he started and then stopped when he saw Spike’s presence, “He bothering you?”

“No, he’s just-”

“Warming you up, right pet?” His eyes glistened as he spoke, an eyebrow raising which made Xander scowl. You tried your best to hide the smile at your boyfriend’s words as Xander looked between you both. Xander liked to think of himself as your older brother and had decided you needed defending. You opened your mouth to say otherwise but ended up being cut off by a very urgent ex-vengeance demon.

“It doesn’t matter that they’re dating right now, we are all going to get ripped into pieces if the demon finds us!” Anya shouted. You hadn’t been as secretive as you thought then.

“An!” Xander hissed, sharing a look. At the exact same time you and Spike shared a look too. You wondered who else had seen straight through your sneaking around and longing glances you shared through scooby meetings.

You were sharing looks for different reasons though. They had obviously discussed what not to say beforehand and Anya had characteristically ignored his warning. There was some kind of demon threatening the town. Again.

“What’s going on, Xander? Anya?” you tried for your ex-vengeance demon friend when Xander didn’t speak. There was definitely something odd going on. At her name being called, despite Xander’s warning, she launched into an explanation.

“Xander got annoyed at our sex-spell and ripped a page out of my very rare copy of ‘magic, sex and me’ which ruined our entire evening!” She scowled and crossed her arms before continuing, “Now we have to kill it instead of having our sexy time” she pouted.

“We’ll pretend we didn’t hear about a sex spell-”

“Well, I want to hear about it. Can’t get it up, mate?” Spike taunted which only made Xander redden further after Anya’s admittance. Xander stepped as if to hit your vampire but you stepped in the way and wheeled Xander away, changing the subject.

You asked instead about what this demon was like. Anya explained that it was a Scorn-demon. Ridiculously hard to kill and bound to the pages of a book as no mortal prison can hold it. It looked as if you were in for a long night. Which is exactly what you and Spike had planned although for a very different reason.

“If all of us are looking, we’ll find it quicker” You offered, Xander had been embarrassed to explain because of the reason they were doing a spell. But now Anya had told anyone anyway, he was grateful of the help. You got to your feet, ready to follow them out as Spike got up beside you.

“Looks like no bugger’s getting any tonight” Spike muttered, rolling his eyes as you apparently volunteered you both to assist your friend.

“Just working ourselves up… right?” You offered which made him smirk. God, he had been rubbing off on you. You almost felt yourself mirroring his smirk at your words. He wanted to pull you in and kiss you until you admitted just his presence could get you worked up enough alone, but he knew the importance of hiding this from your friends. Which, really was the only reason he didn’t take you right there in the middle of the Bronze.

Instead, you just trailed behind Xander and Anya’s bickering and tried to locate this demon. You called Buffy’s cell and left a message. You knew this was probably going to end with a battle you were unequipped for. You just hoped that you ran into your sister before you ran into the demon. By all accounts he sounded nasty.

As you walked, you and Spike kept sneaking glances at the other when you hoped the others weren’t looking. It was hard, having to maintain this distance when all you wanted to do was reach for him. Show him your affection freely. When you caught the other’s eye, you couldn’t help but smile. You felt so lucky, to have someone that cared so deeply. Someone who wasn’t afraid to share their love so freely.

You wanted to slide your hand in his, tell him just how lucky you felt. Just how much you felt for him, although you were sure he must be sick of how often you told him you loved him. He never was, of course. It was the sweetest music hearing that phrase from your lips. He kissed them a thousand times just to catch the remaining sweetness from your tongue. With those words, nothing should be wasted. He wanted to savour every syllable of your love.

You kept walking until you had to come to an abrupt halt. Dawn turned a corner and crashed straight into you. Turns out, your hopes came true: you did come across your sister first. It just happened to not be the one you expected.

“Oh, I didn’t know you guys were ready for, like, double dating yet” Dawn teased. She, too, had decided that you and Spike had to be dating. She often brought it up to annoy you but she believed it all the same. Spike never corrected her and you had stopped bothering too. You would only come off as defensive and she would tease you for that. You honestly couldn’t win living under the same roof as Dawn, she could be relentless.

Spike leaned in to whisper something in your ear, his lips so close to your ear you could imagine the way they would feel if he leaned in further and pressed against your skin. You smiled at his comment, he always made you laugh. He liked to hear your laugh and it passed the time while he waited for the fight that was coming.

When you looked back up, Willow and Tara had caught up with your group. They gave you a knowing look at how close you were stood to Spike. You wanted to lean on him, inhale deeply and press kisses against the curve of his neck. You loved the way he gripped you closer when you did that. But you had to snap yourself out of this thought at the arrival of your sister. Buffy immediately started giving orders, not before she gave you a warning look for letting Dawn come with you after she scowled at Spike for his mere presence.

“I brought the research – I think there’s a spell, but we’ll have to weaken him first” Willow muttered, frowning at Anya and blaming her for this spell and putting her best friend in danger.

“The spell needs lovers to complete it. Do you think you could help us Anya? Xander?” Tara asked softly, “But I’m not sure if that’s enough to hold him”

Because the demon was attracted to love and sex, couples were needed to cut off his power at the source. It fed from lovers and by concentrating that power it could reverse and thus weaken the demon within a certain spot.

“Well, if we need couples we have at least three pairs here. Maybe that would be enough?” Willow asked. Making everyone look around to count the pairs. Everyone’s eyes then landed on you and Spike. The last to look was Buffy who raised an eyebrow between you both.

“Does everyone know we’re dating?!”

“Pretty much, sweetie” tara nodded.

“We just didn’t wanna embarrass you. It’s… Spike” Buffy cringed at even the thought of it, “I, uh, thought you would have kinda got it out of your system by now though” Buffy hitched her nose up at the idea of the two of you, but shrugged. She saw it as a meaningless relationship. The kind she had with Parker in her first year of college but more often.

From what you gathered as they didn’t correct her, nobody really thought Spike capable of any kind of meaningful relationship. And with him not being able to actively harm you, they just decided to avoid the topic entirely until one or both of you got bored of the sex. The only one that hadn’t thought anything of your sudden proximity with Spike every time he turned around, was Xander. He really would have said something if he had known. But he still wasn’t convinced now – no matter how often Anya insisted.

You slid your hand into his, now that everybody appeared to know that you were together at least. He smiled at this, looking down at your hands back to your face. This smile, it was softer than he would usually show in front of the Scoobies, it was one only for you. Where he felt such genuine happiness. Such adoration.

As usual, nobody really wanted to discuss your love life (rather just ignore and hope it went away) and so began to look away from you and discuss the demon again. You began following the trail of destruction. He wasn’t so hard to locate really and Buffy immediately attacked him as Willow and Anya set up in a large triangle around the fight. Each couple was at each point of the triangle as the recital occurred. A flash of light surrounded the demon and Buffy before it faded, showing the demon now fighting sluggishly.

You tried to protect Dawn the best you could while Spike and Buffy took it in turns to throw punches at the now marginally weakened demon. You and the others helped when you could but he was so strong even now the spell had worked, that humans barely affected him.

Somehow the demon broke from Spike’s hold and started for Dawn - who he had sensed as the weaker member of your group. You charged in front of your younger sister to try and distract him. This lead to him twisting you and throwing you into the air and crashing into a nearby storefront. You were flung straight against the wall and hit your head quite badly. He watched you falling like a ragdoll, appearing limp due to the blow.

His gut dropped. He left Buffy to the fight. All that mattered now was that you were okay. He had never been so scared. Spike rushed over to you, dropping to the floor so that he could cradle your head in his lap. There were a few seconds where he didn’t know what to do.

But then just as he thought he may have lost you, hope was restored again. You open your eyes, your smile a little dazed as you looked at him from your position in his lap. He looked up to the sky in relief, as if silently thanking the powers. His eyes danced with emotion as he looked back into yours. He wouldn’t know what he would do without you. Couldn’t even imagine it less his heart would begin to ache with phantom loss.

He was so overcome by the thought of losing you that he immediately caught your lips with his. Pouring every single feeling he had ever experienced for you into that one kiss. His hand cupping your cheek, the other on the small of your back – pressing you closer to him. As if this kiss may well be your very last. You reciprocated without hesitation, your lips felt as if they had been moulded just for this very moment. This kiss, it said everything. Promised everything and you smiled into it. Your lips moving against his urgently, insisting he feel your love for him. Even in your weakened state, all of your energy went into kissing him.

In the same moment, Buffy managed to finally slay the beast and Tara and Willow muttered some words that sent him into the book he would now again call home. Buffy whipped around to catch you both kissing so desperately. The rest of the group stopped still and staring too. Every mouth agape in shock. At just how much you appear to feel for the other. This wasn’t just a quick shag when the feeling struck. One wasn’t taking advantage of the other. This was love. The truest kind. And nobody could deny it now, not even Xander.

After you parted, reluctantly on both parts, he took on your weight as you all walked back, everyone except him in silence. He doted on you, pressing a kiss against your temple every few paces – just because he could now in this company. He wanted to offer you all of the comfort he could. He was whispering to you trying to make sure you didn’t fall asleep. He was sure you had a concussion (I mean, you kissed him that way in front of all of your friends without any worries after all).

Buffy didn’t even object when it appeared that Spike was walking their way home. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Everyone could see just how deeply you cared for each other. It was undeniable, even to your older sister.

Spike was just pleased you would make it and be okay. And… he began to get smug that he was finally able to show the slayer that he could access her house this entire time.

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