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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year

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Don't Hurt Yourself part 4

AN: We have reached the final stop on our train ride of angst. Let’s do it!

Synopsis: After finding out the truth behind Melanie's lies, the unexpected happens and Jack has no one to blame but himself. Will the love that you two have for each other be enough to overcome everything that’s happened?

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Read part 1 part 2 and part 3 first

Thank you to my loves @sinsandsuccubus @softtcurse @mortirolo and @jackharlowsthings for helping me 😘🥰

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was safe to say that after Melanie had orchestrated this elaborate lie in order to break the two of you up, you were just done.

You had always defended her against anyone who spoke bad of her and this is how she repays you?

There were about three more weeks to go before your due date and you had been on strict bedrest ever since the last Melanie incident all while deciding to tell Jack you were leaning towards being legally separated from him since when you mentioned divorce, you thought he was going to have a coronary right then and there.

Not that you should care because this literally was his fault.

But, you knew that you needed him and knew deep down that you didn’t want to be away from him as much as he had put you through.

He was literally the love of your life and you didn’t want to do without him and really couldn’t see yourself without him ever since the two of you had met.

The fight with Melanie just about ended immediately once Jack had pulled you off of her. You admit that deciding to do that wasn’t the best idea but you had been so frustrated and so angry that you didn’t even think twice.

It definitely wasn’t your best moment, but she had it coming.

Jack of course was having an entire meltdown and was trying to make you go to the hospital to get checked out to make sure that you and the baby were okay.

He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Get in the car now!”

“I can drive myself, Jackman!”

“You aren’t going to be driving yourself anywhere after what you just did! Newsflash, but YOU’RE PREGNANT!”

“I KNOW BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED, IT WAS YOU WHO KNOCKED ME UP!”

“Get in the car, Y/N!” Jack said as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“No.” You replied as you closed the door that Jack had just opened and you could tell that his patience was wearing thin.

Extremely thin.

“Y/N, I’m only going to ask nicely one more time. You literally just scared the shit out of me with what you just did. So can you please get in the car so we can go to the hospital to make sure you and our daughter are okay?”

“Fine, but you’re buying me food after.”

“Not fast food with too much salt because you already have high blood pressure.”

“The only reason I have it is because of dumbass number one and dumbass number two.”

“BABY!”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT, JACKMAN!”

“The quicker we do this, the quicker you get your food.”

“And the quicker I go to sleep to get the hell away from everyone and everything.”

You were now in a patient room in the emergency department and shooting daggers at your husband.

“Mrs. Harlow, you need to understand that you have preeclampsia and it’s serious so you need to take being on bedrest seriously. We need to closely monitor you and the baby every few days to make sure we don’t have to deliver her early.”

“Wait, what?” Jack asked and it immediately sent him into overdrive.

“As long as the baby is in her, she’s going to continue to have high blood pressure and it should resolve once she has it. However, if things start to get a little more complicated, it might be necessary for us to do a c section.”

“But she still has more than two months to go!”

“I know and that is why we need to take this seriously. Strict bedrest and only going to your doctor’s appointments. Understood?”

“Yes.” You muttered but rolled your eyes as soon as she had left the room.

“Everything else looks fine so I’ll get your discharge instructions together. Give me a few minutes.”

You then looked over at your husband with pleading eyes.

“You better not ask me for McDonald’s fries because the answer is no.”

—

Jack had taken it upon himself to come over as much as he could when he wasn’t working and if he was, he made sure to give things to Bianca to give to you. He always brought food that was healthy and he made sure that no one was sneaking you anything. He just about killed Urban when he caught him trying to give you a cheesesteak with extra cheese and a large order of fries.

“Jack is this…. Is this a fruit parfait?”

“Yes.”

“I want grease.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“The baby wants it.”

“No.”

“Just a piece of burger?”

“A piece of…. Y/N, cut the shit. No. Final answer.”

“Well at least it’s pretty. That’s about the only thing we got going good right now.”

—

“I thought you said that you had a few more days before you had to leave again?” You asked your husband, trying not to pout but failing miserably. These hormones were something else. Yesterday you cried because Jack put the wrong color socks on your feet.

You wanted pink ones, but Jack put on your lime green ones and it was all she wrote.

You cried for twenty minutes even after he had fixed his mistake.

“I know, but a few things had to get moved around and there really wasn’t anything I could do about it.”

“Play the ‘my wife is pregnant card’”

“My wife might be pregnant, however, I need to keep a roof over her head. I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”

“Okay.” You answered while sniffling.

“Shit…. Y/N… are you crying?”

“No.”

“Why are you lying to me when I’m looking right at you?”

“Just hurry up and get here.”

—

“You said that you would be here an hour ago!” You exclaimed through the facetime call. It looked as if Jack was driving.

“I know, I promise I’m on my way now.”

“I’M SO BORED!”

“We can watch a movie when I get there. Go ahead and pick one out now.”

“Harry Potter, final answer. Now are you bringing me food?”

“Yes, I got you soup.”

“Soup? What the? Jack, I want to clog my arteries. Soup is not going to allow me to do that.”

“Keep going at the rate you’re going and you’ll end up with a 95% blockage. I am not getting you anything greasy and don’t ask me again. If you ask Urban, I’ll kill him too.”

“Uh, okay. First off, that was one time.”

“And that’ll be the last.”

—

It was now around 2 in the morning and you hadn't been getting a lot of sleep. For one, you were tired of being pregnant and also you hated to say it but you missed your husband.

You sat up and that literally just about took you ten minutes to do and you noticed that something didn’t feel quite right.

You made a motion to stand up and that was when a gush of liquid immediately hit the floor.

“Oh shit, oh shit, not now! You aren’t supposed to come for another three weeks! Fuck!”

You grabbed your phone and immediately called your husband who groggily answered.

“Y/N, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“No, absolutely not! YOUR DAUGHTER DECIDED SHE WANTED TO COME EARLY! MY WATER JUST BROKE!”

“Oh fuck, okay just get dressed and I’m coming.”

And that was when you felt your first contraction.

“Oh my fucking shit, I…. oohhh this hurts so bad.” You said as tears began to prick your eyes.

“Is anyone there with you?!”

“No, Bianca left a few hours ago when I told her that I would be fine and look what happened!”

“Okay, just breathe. I’m on my way now. Stay on the phone with me. Do you have your hospital bag?”

“Yes.” You went over to the closet and got it off one of the shelves and set it on your bed while you went to find some fresh clothes and to take a shower. You didn’t anticipate her coming any time soon and felt that you might be in labor for a few hours before she decided to make her appearance into the world.

“If I get quiet, I’m just taking a shower, but I won’t hang up, okay?” You told your husband as you began to slip off your clothes that you were wearing and place them in the hamper.

You honestly couldn’t believe that the next time you walked into your front door, you would have your daughter in your arms.

“Okay, just be careful. I’m ten minutes away.”

“I will.”

Once you had gotten dressed and taken many breaks due to the contractions hitting you like a ton of bricks, you heard the front door open and Jack making his way up the steps.

He saw that you had a pout on your face and immediately asked you what was wrong.

“Y/N, you okay?”

“No. I can’t see my feet to put my shoes on.”

“I got you, mamas.” Jack responded bending down so that he could help you when he heard you let out a groan that immediately startled him.

“Just a contraction.” You responded trying to reassure him. At this point you didn’t know if you were trying to get Jack to calm down or yourself.

“Let’s get you in the car.” Jack said while helping you stand up. You would have lost your balance if it wasn’t for him holding you.

“Whoa, you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

However, you were far from okay and it was only a matter of time before everything was happening at once.

“We need to deliver this baby and deliver her now.” You hadn’t even gotten completely settled in your hospital room when your doctor blurted that out at both you and Jack who were now looking absolutely terrified. The only thing that had happened was them taking your vital signs.

“Wait, what?! My contractions aren’t even that close!”

“Your high blood pressure. The longer we wait, the longer that it could cause more problems for you and your baby.”

“And she’s early!” Jack exclaimed while beginning to pace on the far side of the room.

“One thing at a time. Let’s focus on having a safe delivery first. We’re going to give you something to help speed up your contractions in the hopes of us not having to do a c section.”

All you had was a blank look on your face as everything was being explained to you.

“Okay.” You responded as the nurses began to help you into a hospital gown and place an IV in your arm.

The only thing that was on Jack’s mind is the fact that this was his fault.

You weren’t diagnosed with high blood pressure until after the entire blow up with the Melanie situation.

He honestly didn’t know what to do with himself if something happened to either you or the baby.

You had to call him several times to get his attention as the nurses had finally gotten you settled and had left the room.

“Oh um, yes?”

“Are you okay? I think they need to give you something to calm you down too.”

“I just…. I’m fine. I just worry about the both of you. I’ve caused enough problems the entire time you’ve been pregnant and it seems like it’s one thing after another.”

“We’re not focusing on that now. She’s our priority and that’s it. One thing at a time.”

“I can’t lose you. Either of you.”

“And you won't, so stop talking like that.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Come here.” You told him as you moved over on the hospital bed so that he would have enough room to sit next to you.

“Listen to me and do not interrupt. You aren’t going to lose either of us, but if it comes down to it…”

“Y/N!”

“Jackman, stop. If it comes down to it, you better choose her over me.”

“But!”

“No. Promise me. Promise me right now.”

“How can I promise that?! I don’t want to live without my wife!”

“I know, but please, just promise me.” You noticed that Jack’s eyes were beginning to water and you felt bad for laying such a huge thing on him in this moment, but it needed to be said.

“I promise.” You could tell that he definitely hesitated with his answer.

The nurses explained that your blood pressure would be monitored every fifteen minutes to make sure that it wasn’t getting to the point where medicine would need to be given. Jack had called your parents as well as yours even though he was hesitant to do so since they were there and heard about him being unfaithful toward you. He also called Bianca and your sister and was actually surprised that they picked up the phone.

Everyone was now in the waiting room anticipating her arrival.

The contractions were getting closer and you knew it was only a matter of time before you would be able to meet her. As long as no other complications would arise.

The only person that you actually wanted in the delivery room with you was your husband, simply because you knew if you had brought someone else at the moment that they would be shooting daggers at him the entire time and that was the last thing that you wanted.

“I feel like I have to push, can’t exactly explain why but I do.” You said to the nurse who was checking your vitals and she looked at you with wide eyes.

“Hold on! Don’t push yet!”

She raced out of the room and you assumed that she was trying to find your doctor, but it seemed like your daughter wasn’t waiting on anyone and she was ready to come out now.

“Oh shit.” You felt a weird sensation and simply reached down and felt your daughter’s head and looked at your husband with wide eyes.

“What?!”

“Umm….. I think I can pull her out.”

“What do you even mean?! You haven’t even pushed!”

“I know, but… looks like she was ready to come out.”

“Babe! Just wait.”

“She isn’t waiting for anyone clearly!” You said as you gave one small push to get her other shoulder out and there she was.

You quickly grabbed her and placed her on your chest while Jack was simply looking at you in awe and a little bit of shock.

You heard her first cry and was in amazement that you and Jack could have created something so perfect.

Ten fingers

Ten toes

And a head full of curly hair which resembled her fathers.

Just then your nurse came back into the room to see your daughter now placed on your chest.

“Well, it looks like she said I’m ready and I’m ready now.”

“She’s going to be just like her mother in that sense.”

“Do you have a name yet?”

“Amara Brielle Harlow.”

–

You had just finished feeding Amara and collapsed on the couch face down and groaned.

It had been awhile since you had gotten an adequate amount of sleep and was struggling to stay awake.

After she had been born, Jack had moved back in despite your protests because he told you that there was no way in the world that you would be doing this by yourself. It wasn’t the fact that you didn’t want him there, it was the fact that you were still hurt. Despite it being pushed in the back of your mind since you had your daughter to focus on, you knew that he was going to be a good father. To come back from what he did and be a good husband? You weren’t sure.

“Go upstairs and lay down.”

“I will in a minute. As soon as I get enough energy to do so.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before you flipped yourself around and looked at your husband. It had been a little awkward since he moved back in and it was as if you didn’t know how to act around your husband anymore.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I… just… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay, I’m listening.” You responded and turned your body so that you were facing him.

“Are we… are we really separating?”

“Don’t you think we should?”

“No!”

“Of course you would say that.” You responded and rolled your eyes.

“Y/N, please. I know what I did almost ruined us but I literally cannot see myself without having you in my life.”

“Where do I even begin to learn how to trust you again? I’m just going to be walking around with high blood pressure all the time because I’m scared my husband is cheating on me again?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Well, I didn’t think that it would happen the first time but it did.”

“I was going to suggest we go to a marriage counselor.” You were quiet for a few seconds before you looked back up at him.

“I don’t see myself being with someone else…”

“But you were… you know… with someone else.”

“I… I know but…”

“Look, I’m going to be honest. I wanted to literally kill you when I had found out what you had done. But, I remember the night when my water broke and when I had been laying down. Before it had broken, I remember almost being in tears because I missed you so much. I absolutely hated that feeling. I missed the person that you were before I had learned about what you did, we were happy then, at least I was and I thought that you were. And as much as I thought that I could live without you, I can’t and I am so mad at myself for that and mad at you for making that a reality for us.”

“Fuck, I hate this.” Jack muttered while running a hand through his curls.

“Like that feeling is probably never going to go away. The feeling of me being insecure wondering if I’m good enough for my husband.”

“But you are! More than enough!”

“If I was enough, there would have been no reason for you to cheat on me with her.”

“And there’s no excuse for that and I don’t even know why I did it. I know you want an answer, but I just don’t have one for you.”

You simply sighed while shifting on the couch to a more comfortable position.

“If we do this, Jack, my heart can’t take being broken a second time. You need to be all in.”

“I know and I don’t want to break your heart for a second time, the look on your face is something that’s ingrained in my mind and I never want you to look at me that way again. I’m all in, 100%. I’m not losing my wife if I can help it. I have another person to think about now and I want to be the best role model for her. She’s going to grow up seeing what a healthy relationship looks like and she’s going to know that she deserves the same thing. I will literally do everything I can for you to forgive me and build your trust again.”

You simply looked over at him before getting up and moving to sit on his lap.

“I’m willing to do this. You are literally the only person I want and I want her best for us as well as our daughter.”

“One more question then.”

“Go ahead.”

“I got your necklace fixed and I still have your ring….”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Help me put them on.”

If you try this shit again, you gonna lose your wife

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#jack harlow #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagine

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accio-victuuri · 1 year

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fandom stories that have been on my mind recently…. 📑

as what the title says, cpn things that have been living in my head rent-free for the past days/ weeks. i just need a place to write them down and let them shine on their own ✨

same disclaimer applies. for cpn-loving turtles only. please don’t ask me to elaborate cause as i said, i have very minimal information on hand.

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆

• The one thing that inspired me to make this post, a bit about WYB’s side account. It’s not a secret that he has one, probably even multiples but for some reason this one got leaked. especially back in 2019 when his phone number got leaked and some people allegedly verified that this same number was used to register the account. they noticed it followed a couple of motorcycle related accounts, bobo’s true love at the time lol and well the most juicy thing here is that he was visiting the bjyx supertopic.

Then by the end of 2019, it gained followers. WYB might have noticed that he was somehow discovered so the account cleared all it’s watch list and never moved again. Everything is gone. That freakin moon profile picture does not help at all cause we all know his fondness for it and how it’s one of the fandom’s symbolism. The way it was created on 3/14 is also very sus.

We have all CPN’d that he visited the ST and why not tbh. Even if you don’t believe in BJYX, i think you can say that he has visited it and at the very least knows of it’s existence. I wonder what he saw tho. LOL. I would love to get more information on this account’s watch list and it’s just so funny to have some confirmation about one of his side accounts.

no i’m lying, there is another alleged side account from 2018. A weifen gave the tip ( allegedly lol i’m gonna use this word a lot ). It is also cleared but people did capture that he kept an eye out on XZ and XZS, and also liked a motorcycle video that was not really popular. So maybe someone who knows about the moto world would recognize. I just noticed the times both accounts were created. I don’t think WYB has the time to maintain his side accounts anymore with how busy he is but i imagine this gremlin having all the accounts and just looking at everything out there.

maybe i can make a post about all his alleged side accounts one day. 😂😂😂😂

• I have always loved personal stories from turtles and while I am wary of some, there are ones that particularly make me soft. this one for example:

My uncle is the kind of staff who works with the crew, he is ten years into the circle. I usually ask him about gossip in the circle. This year (2019 ) I carefully asked Bojun Yixiao if it was real. Uncle said he didn't know them that well, but he knew that the relationship between the two is very good. It is said that WYB & XZ are modest and polite. They have no personality problem and have always been real and not fancy.

He also said (emphasis!) he will help me get Xiao Zhan’s autographed photo in October. The time was right to take advantage of the work appointment, and after the end of XZ’s work, he signed one, my uncle said that “my niece likes you two very much”. Xiao Zhan raised his head in a daze, and said, “huh” My Uncle was about to explain, Xiao Zhan laughed a bit and said, "Is it Wang Yibo?" Uncle also laughed.

What gets me in this is how XZ is confused then it immediately clicks for him — is it WYB? ☺️ I mean, granted that 2019 was such a big year for them as a pair and who could someone be referring to when talking about “you two..” This exchange ( true or not ) lives in my head rent free. and the fact that people in the industry have nothing to say but good things about them really says a lot.

• The COVID test schedules that were leaked actually showed it was the same date and time. down to the second 02:23:38. I know this is bad, people shouldn’t actively seek out things like this but my brain won’t let this piece of information go. 💀💀💀

• WYB’s “Changsha” residence when he was still actively working in TTXS was provided by Hunan TV network. It’s not his, it is located very close to the station to make it easier for him. Other staff also stayed in that same area. The candy is, XZ allegedly sends things to that address.

• This video and fake rumor that is going around recently. People are speculating that WYB’s reaction in this routine was because of something that happened and that the dancers are actually teasing him. The rumor is XZ visited the set of SDC and he was just lounging, WYB was there and was about to kiss him but some dancers saw them, and our boys ended up being embarrassed.

you can definitely give a more plausible explanation of why he reacted like this but that’s not the point of this whole post. it’s the cpn that could be connected to it. and i mean if had someone like XZ, the love of my life just lounging, looking all gorgeous — how can you blame WYB for wanting to kiss him 🥺

• I’m not really a kadian enthusiast like all the other BXGs but the recent 232323 timing is making me 👀. Yes we know you Love Zhan.

Time is 14:30, but it can be 2:30 so it keeps up with the 23. I think the reason why i’m drawn to this CPN is it was posted a day after the whole yibo relationship rumor. If you look at YBO’s page, after the post saying the rumor is fake, the next one is this. So it’s like saying, those rumors are false and I only love XZ. 23. 🤍

• the emoji similarities between xzs and ybo used in their douyin posts. not only that, it’s a match for ones during OOL ( Gu Wei ) and BAH ( Chen Wei ). I mean, do they ship them too?

• I don’t really believe in 🍉 unless they are about upcoming product endorsements cause I think those can be leaked by the brands themselves. but during HB’s initial run, there was one with 2m followers who shared that XZ bought multiple screening slots for the movie.

The melon didn’t say he bought it because of WYB, it only mentioned WYB because let’s face it— his name is associated with it and he is actively promoting. What’s so entertaining to me and makes me grin when i think of it are the people’s comments. HAHAHAHAHA! They know what is being implied. You all know deep down there is some truth it but you refuse and say all kinds of things.

- END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here folks im just clowning like i always do #cpn talk #a whole chunk of my brain power is devoted to xz and wyb

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theorderofthetriad · 2 years

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Izzy and Stede both somehow become (appoint themselves as?) Jim's best friend (aside from Oluwande) and so it is Jim that accidentally makes stizzy happen after one too many snide comments about how they feel like their child of divorce

pfft, i can imagine each of them separately talking to Jim about their feelings (Stede in the direct way of actually saying things, and while he is sharing what he knows he's feeling, he's fucking oblivious to his feelings for Izzy, so he'll tell Jim something like "And when i was arguing with Izzy i just felt so hot and my stomach was churning and i got so flustered." Whereas Izzy is not directly talking about his feelings, he's talking around them or outright lying about them. But Jim catches on when Izzy's insults of Bonnet start to get way too specific.) and Jim Does Not Want to get involved, but it's really obvious that these two idiots have it bad for each other. Jim wants to chill but Izzy and Stede are just constantly talking at them about each other in a way that makes Jim feel like they might be caught in the midst of an elaborate courting ritual and Jim is Not about it.

So eventually one day, Jim finally loses their patience in the middle of one of Izzy's rants about Stede where he is intricately describing the details of Stede's hair (and Izzy genuinely thinks he's saying it as an insult) and Goes Off on Izzy for being in deep denial of his feelings while also being blaringly obvious about it. Izzy denies denies denies, says a lotta "no"s and "fuck"s in the process. Izzy eventually storms off, but for the next few days Jim notices Izzy's furrowed brow and distant stare whenever he has a moment to himself.

Wait, no, scratch that last paragraph, Jim tells Izzy "You two just need to bone." like in that Brooklyn Nine-Nine scene, and like Holt Izzy goes the fuck off-

Wait WAIT no, scratch that, same concept, b99 bone scene, but Jim saying "You need to bone" to Stede, and Stede going off in front of the whole crew so now everybody- including Izzy -knows what's up between Izzy and Stede.

And then Things happen and there is a resolution, look, it's like 3:30 in the am and i wasn't expecting to write this much, I'm tapping out.

#jim jimenez #izzy hands #stede bonnet #stizzy #gentlehands #ofmd #ask game: anonymously send me the izzy/stizzy thoughts you're too much of a coward to share on main #Top Tino Post

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snailor-bee · 2 years

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Songfics Part Eleven

I'm back!! My friend wrote me an AMAZING songfic and got me really into the idea again! The last time I did these I’m unsure if I talked a lot to @sugxrslushy or @childofblackmaria but since then they've been super lovely friends to me. ;u; So I wanted to do some for them. I hope you both enjoy!

I wanted to do a Roger to this but my hair appointment got moved up so I gotta RUN. Sorry Lale yours is so sad?!?! Why is Rayleigh built for sadness I don't understand.

GN!Reader / SFW / 1.9k Characters: Rayleigh and Perona Warnings: Rayleigh's is pretty sad y'all, I'm sorry. The song was just to perfect I couldn't resist.

Song: Nati Dreddd - Caledonia

I don't know if you can see the changes that have come over me, In these last few days I've been afraid that I might drift away.

So I've been telling old stories, singing songs, that make me think about where I come from That's the reason why I seem so far away today.

You set a concerned hand on Rayleigh’s shoulder, jolting the man as he tore his eyes away from the fire.

“Are you alright?” you asked and he smiled.

It didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine, fine, just lost in my thoughts.” Rayleigh grabbed onto your wrist gently and tugged you into his lap. He wrapped his arms around your waist while burrowing his face into the crook of your neck.

After a long enough pause that told you he wasn’t going to elaborate you hesitantly asked, “Beli for your thoughts?”

Rayleigh chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “Thinking about the past.” Before you could ask further he went on, “Want to hear a sea shanty?”

Even though you knew he was only asking to distract you, you really couldn’t resist. Rayleigh so rarely sang but you loved it every time. Voice a deep baritone it shook you down to your knees whenever he did, the way he gazed straight at you, whiskey rough voice singing softly just for you. Smiling, you agreed, thinking you’d dig a little deeper later.

Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home

But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

“What was it like?” you asked one night in bed, staring at his weathered face. Rayleigh cocked a brow at you in question, but the knowing smile told you he knew what you were asking for. He just wanted to hear you say it. “Traveling with Roger and the others.”

His silver eyes, normally obscured by glasses went a little distant as he thought about it. “Amazing. The best time of my life, it made me feel alive.”

When you shuffled into yourself a little more his eyes focused once more on your own and he reached out to run a hand down your side, the worn palms catching on your skin slightly. “Don’t be upset.”

“I’m not,” you said, and you meant it. “I just wish…I could do more for you. I see the way you look sometimes, so sad and I just wish…I could fill more of that void for you.” You reached out and cupped his cheek, thumbing at the skin before trailing your hand down to run through his white beard.

Rayleigh’s eyes flashed and for a moment you felt pressure weigh you down before it released. With the hand on your side he pulled you closer, into his chest. “I love you. Don’t worry about it, you do more than enough. What I lost, it can’t be replaced but that doesn’t mean this life is bad either. Just different.” He kissed your forehead, but you still weren’t entirely soothed.

I have moved and I've kept on moving, proved the points that I needed proving Lost the friends that I needed losing, found others on the way

I have tried and I've kept on trying, stolen dreams, yes there's no denying I have traveled hard sometimes with conscience flying somewhere in the wind

Still, even if Rayleigh denied it, you couldn’t help but notice the way he looked, at times when he didn’t think you were watching. The way the lines in his face seemed deeper as he stared out at the horizon. The way he drifted—mid-task he’d just stop and stare into nothing, lost in thought. The drinking until dawn. He tried to joke like it was just something pirates did but you weren’t fooled.

Drinking might be what pirates did, but they weren’t drinking everyday to escape into the past. They were drinking to celebrate what they had. You understood the difference and was sure Rayleigh did as well.

You bit your lip with indecision. You knew Rayleigh was a wanderer at heart. When the two of you first started, you were fine with it. Always figured he’d leave eventually. A small blip of time with the legendary man, nothing more.

But then he stayed. And kept on staying.

It felt almost unfair, like forcing you to fall in love with him was a test somehow. To see if it would be enough to fill that ache inside him.

As you watched him, hands frozen half-finished putting up the laundry on a line looking out at the sea you knew it wasn’t enough and your heart ached with all that meant.

Now I'm sitting here before the fire, the empty room the forest choir The flames that couldn't get any higher they've withered now they've gone

But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear and I know what I will do tomorrow When the hands have shaken and the kisses flow then I will disappear

Another night in front of the fireplace, Rayleigh stared into its flames a bottle of booze dangling from his fingertips. You tsked before sweeping in to pull it from his loose grip.

“Careful, you’ll spill it everywhere.”

Rayleigh hummed and his melancholy mood seemed to lift just a little as he looked you over, his eyes sparkling. Quicker than you could see, he snatched you up making you screech as you dropped the bottle.

“Rayleigh,” you hissed out angerily, hearing the bottle clatter to the floor. “What are you doin—mmph!”

He silenced you with a hard kiss. Automatically your hands went up to tangle into his white hair as he settled you against him, a strong hand at the back of your neck and the other wrapping around your waist.

Although Rayleigh was engaged that night, covering you with kisses and present in a way he so often wasn’t, there was still something that nagged you about it. But even knowing that, you still got lost in his kisses, in his love.

Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home

When you woke up the next morning to an empty bed with only a note on the pillow, you weren’t surprised, even if you felt your heart breaking already.

Opening it, your eyes were hot with unshed tears as you read,

Sorry love, I just can’t help it. You’re lovely I just gotta go home. xRayleigh

Home. How you hated that word. As if you weren’t trying to make one with him, here. Your tears splashed, smearing the ink.

But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad Caledonia's been everything I've ever had

Song: Alice Phoebe Lou - Witches

You've got this golden way of making my body sway Of making my mind fly away Of making it fly

Hearing a voice echo down the hall you stopped in your tracks. There was only one woman in the castle but you’ve never heard her sing before. Entranced you followed the sound closer. There was a door barely ajar, and you pushed it open wider, the thick carpet covering any sound.

Perona stood in front of a mannequin, fabric pinned to its frame. Her ghosts danced around her as she sang, rotating her hips.

It's a world I love to be in Come on, let's go high above the ceiling Oh, what we could be feeling Oh, what we could be feeling

Putting a hand in the air she did a spin, closing her eyes.

I'm one of those witches, babe I'm one of those witches, babe Just don't try to save me ‘Cause I don't wanna be saved

“Wow,” you breathed before you slapped a hand over your mouth in horror, eyes widening. Perona stopped singing at once, large dark eyes snapping open to see you hovering in the open doorway.

“What are you doing here!?” she screamed with rage, and you held out both hands in apology.

“I heard singing and wanted to see! I’m sorry!”

Perona looked so angry, her face flushed to an alarming level of pink and her ghosts drifted closer menacingly.

“I really liked it!” you said loudly before flinching back, expecting to be hit with a hollow and begin groveling on the ground. When nothing happened, you squinted open an eye.

She still looked upset but both hands were fisted in her skirt, and she pouted. “My singing? You liked it?”

Seeing your chance, you nodded your head quickly. “Yes! I loved it, can I hear more?”

Perona narrowed her eyes at you before she gestured you impatiently into the room. Eagerly you came closer, deftly avoiding the hollows that still floated around and giggled at you. When she pointed at the couch you took a seat without argument.

“Now, where was I?” she asked herself, index finger pressed against her chin in thought.

“I’m one of those witches,” you repeated without prompting. She hummed before opening her mouth.

Me, I've got my own little magic And I'm not tryna wreak havoc It's just that sometimes I see something and I just need to have it Let's share a few dirty habits Let's share a few dirty habits

Now that she had an audience, she definitely put more of a performance into it. Swaying her body more, she kept your gaze as she sang, beckoning you with a finger at the last few lines.

You pointed at yourself with a confused look, not sure if she actually meant you to come closer or not. When she nodded you gulped before standing.

Last night when you pulled through I put a spell on the moon It was three times the size In your moon-lit eyes

Perona tugged you close before running a hand through your hair, nails scraping as she sang. You shivered at the attention.

And I sang you an old tune Mom sang me when I was half the size And I looked at you and your moon-lit eyes And your moon-lit eyes

Leaning against you, she pressed her chest against you, singing so close to your lips you felt the air puff against them, and you shook with expectation and wanting.

I'm one of those witches, babe I'm one of those witches, babe Just don't try to save me ‘Cause I don't wanna be saved

Then suddenly, she pulled away with a familiar laugh, leaving you standing there dazed and confused.

“You didn’t actually think I’d kiss you, did you?!” she said with a smirk.

You shifted awkwardly before you frowned. “You could have just let me stay on the couch, I was enjoying the song just fine without the teasing.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed at you, causing you to crash back into the couch. You opened your mouth to complain but was quickly silenced when she followed you down, climbing into your lap.

“Geeze, you’re so dense. Obviously, I wanted you to kiss me. I don’t sing for just anyone you know,” she said with a pout.

Blinking, you rested your hands at her hips as she sat above you, folding her arms and looking huffy.

“Oh. Give me another chance?”

She sniffed. “Don’t think you deserve it now.”

“Aww come on, Princess, just for me?”

“Hmph.” But still she conceded and started to sing the last bar.

I'm one of those witches, babe I'm one of those witches, babe Just don't try to save me—

You reached up and pulled her down before she could finish the last line into a bruising kiss. Your teeth clicked together and the both of you winced before changing the angle and trying again and it was perfect. Everything you thought it would be and you sighed happily.

‘Cause I don't wanna be saved

#bee writes #bee writing #perona #rayleigh #one piece #one piece x reader #perona x reader #rayleigh x reader #FUCK I GOTTA GOOOO

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niennandil-me-writes · 1 year

Text

Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 2 - Shattered Memories

Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind's leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue

CN: car accidents, an Austrian’s attempt at writing a Southern accent

The screen is like a shield. A barrier protecting me from the direct impact of the data stored on the caches connected to our respective hubs. TOMCAT is sitting on my couch wearing a retro-looking helmet with a visor screen while their hands play on a keyboard and a control panel. Turing has the data plugged directly into their system, their face screen blank as they navigate several terabytes of information. I’m working on my laptop, whose ventilation is running wild from the exertion. I’m almost afraid it might explode in my lap.

“A whoppin’ 90% of the data is damaged somethin’ bad from when y’all fried the brain,” TOMCAT explained when they set up everything in my living room. “So far neither me nor Turing could find anything that might help find the daughter, but it’s all very scrangled as well. The memory files used to have information on when it was created, but that went haywire as well, so we’re in a bit of a pickle there.”

When I asked what they had found so far, TOMCAT elaborated: “Well, I tried sorting thru the stuff and labelin’ anythin’ as best I could as I looked through it. So about 20% of the missing data is sorted now. Unlucky for us, the parts containing memories from his past got a pretty bad hit.”

“We’ve got the first name of his wife in the process,” Turing offered. “Well, ex-wife, that is... She is called Sarah.”

“Which is about as handy as a heating pad on a summer day in Neo-SF,” TOMCAT said. “There’s hundreds of Sarahs in the city right now, and many more in the rest of the US.”

“What about the daughter's name?”

“Nope. Not as we could find so far.”

“Like TOMCAT said, the time between his brain transplant and him leaving his family received the worst damage,” Turing explained. “And that’s when his daughter was born.”

TOMCAT explained the labeling system of the data and how to gather information from it, as well as the sorting method they and Turing had worked out. Then we split up the work between us: TOMCAT tries to restore damaged data and missing labels, while Turing looks through memories with unclear origin to sort it in a timeline, and I look at data we are sure is from the time before the brain transplant took place. Either TOMCAT or Turing marked most of this data with “WD”, as opposed to the ”LD” on the other memories. I’ve gotten out the pinboard which I use to structure my writing. We are now using the other side for keeping track of our research. TOMCAT created a shared digital document, but I still work best with physical notes, so it’s mostly them and Turing using it.

I saw my therapist yesterday, and for the first time since my first appointments talked about what happened down in the sewers and Parallax’ server room. I told her about this project. She was a bit skeptical but told me it wasn’t her place to stop me from this decision. She also said it might be a way for me to work through my trauma, while emphasizing that I should be careful not to get too emotionally involved. I didn’t tell her I would be looking at his memories. She would have been more critical of that.

So far, it is going far better than I thought it would. It helps that TOMCAT keeps insisting on frequent breaks. At noon, they make biscuits and gravy in my kitchen, which seems almost too cliche, but it’s the first homemade food I’ve had in a while, so I’m grateful for it.

Working on a laptop helps as well. I don’t know how I would react if I looked at actual pictures, videos, heard sounds, like Turing and TOMCAT. They both seem to naturally approach it from a distance which I have to enforce through keeping the screen a foot away from my face, and by looking only at the text files. Memories become data points, nothing but lines of script, dialogues on a screen, hex codes to describe colors, formulas for scents –

Everything’s in binary!

I jerk upward. Hands cramped on the keyboard.

“Everything alright with ya?” TOMCAT puts a hand on my shoulder.

I look at Turing, who hasn’t noticed, still sunken in their own heap of data. I breathe in. Breathe out. Force a nod.

I haven’t been exactly honest with Turing. I remember everything he said. I hear his voice in my dreams. In my nightmares.

“Do y’all need a break?”

I shake my head. “It’s fine. It’s just code.”

TOMCAT still insists on making me a cup of tea. While they are gone, I look through another memory. As I scroll through the text, I find myself wondering if this is how he experienced the world. Or did he get a similar feed as TOMCAT is through their helmet? But that would still be just a facsimile of reality. What would it be like to experience the world like this? When all your memories are there, right in front of your eyes, but not tangible. Marked read only.

TOMCAT comes back with the tea, and I tear myself away from these thoughts looping in my mind. I realize I’ve been scrolling through the same memory for some time without registering anything. I take a sip from the cup and scroll back up. It’s bland enough, an average way to work. Strange. Most of these mundane memories get saved in much more compact form. I wonder how it ever moved out of short term memory. It also seems heavily glitched, which is odd, since the information markers all seem intact. The date, contexts, location, it’s all here. And still, the data itself just breaks off in the middle.

I close the file, label it as unimportant, and move on to the chronologically next one. Except there isn’t any. The next dated memory lies several months in the future and is marked “LD”. With an uneasy feeling in my stomach, I open up the other file again, scroll down to the bottom. It cuts up just as he is crossing a street. Then the noise of a car going too fast.

And I realize I just watched Wilson Dekker die.

#my writing #fanfic #read only memories #2064 read only memories #2064rom #leon dekker #alys #turing webber #tomcat #fragments of a cybernetic mind

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nanalikessurveys · 2 years

Text

What does your mother do for work? If she’s a homemaker, any specific reason for this? She’s a nurse for the elderly.

What about your father? What does he do? I’m not 100% sure how his occupation would be called but he’s an engineer and he works with computers.

How do you like your coffee? With milk.

If you’re of age, what’s your favourite alcoholic drink? I don’t like drinking alcohol usually. But I might drink red wine every once in a a while.

Do you smoke? If so, did you start when you were 18 or were you younger? No I don’t smoke.

Did your parents approve of your smoking/alcohol use before you turned 18? I didn’t drink before I turned 18. I did try cigarettes a few times when I was like 16 but my parents didn’t know about it and they still don’t lol.

Do you have siblings? If not, skip the next few questions. I have a sister.

Are you eldest, in the middle or youngest? I'm the youngest.

How big an age gap is between you and your siblings? She’s 5 years older.

Do/did your siblings cause trouble? No, she never did.

If your siblings are old enough, what do they do for work? She’s on disability pension, she has autism and a mild intellectual disability which makes her unable to work normal jobs. But she is an artist and has sold many of her art pieces actually.

Have you ever been jealous of your siblings? Not jealous in a negative way but I’ve been envious of her artistic skills for example.

Do you still live with your parent/s or do you live alone/with a partner? No, I live alone (with my cats).

What do you think about growing up? Most of the time I miss being a kid tbh.

What about having responsibilities? :(

Do you know how to cook? If so, what’s your favourite thing to cook? What about baking? I like cooking pasta. Also some casseroles every now and then. I bake rarely but I like that too.

Do you ever drink tea? Yeah sometimes. I like Earl Grey and green tea.

Have you ever followed any of these fad diets that go around? No.

What do you usually order at your favourite restaurant? At this local diner, I like their chicken burger with goat cheese. It’s sooo good.

Do you prefer a proper restaurant to a fast food place? Proper restaurant if I’m going to eat there. If I’m craving takeout then I’d pick fast food.

Is there an arcade anywhere near where you live? I don’t think so.

Have you ever played pinball? If so, an actual machine or on a computer? Yes, both.

What’s your dream vehicle? What about your dream house? I don’t have a dream vehicle. I don’t think I have a dream house either.

What is the biggest dream of your life? To graduate and have a partner one day.

If you could travel to another country right now, where would you go? Iceland.

What is a country you’d never ever visit? Visiting North Korea would freak me out tbh.

Are you good at taking care of your finances? I think so.

Have you ever had any trouble paying your bills? What about your rent? Not that I couldn’t pay them but I have a bad memory and I sometimes forget to pay on time :(

What do you think is the best thing about being an adult? What about the worst?

Worst part is all the responsibilities you have. Best part would be the fact that I can make my own choices and get to live on my own.

Is there a person in your life, who wastes their life somehow? No.

What is something you need to do, but you keep postponing it? Make a dentist appointment.

Do you think life should just hand things to you? Or should you earn the things you want and need with hard work? It definitely seems like the best option on my lazy days. But in the end that’s not how it should go. It doesn’t teach you anything, it doesn’t make you grow as a person.

Would you rather live off government benefits or earn your own money? I get assistance from the government right now but I can’t wait to make my own money.

When you take a survey, do you skip questions? If so, what kinds of questions? Rarely but if I do, it’s because I just don’t feel like elaborating too much etc.

What type of a survey do you skip altogether? Bolding surveys but I’d like to start taking those too.

Why, do you think, people write lyrics as the title for a survey? Because they want to have a title and maybe have a lyric playing in their head.

If you have a Facebook, what do you use it for? I don’t have it.

If you have a Twitter, what do you use it for? I don’t have that either.

If you have a Tumblr, what do you use it for? Taking surveys.

If you have an iPhone, why? I don’t have an iPhone.

If you have an iPad, why? Or and iPad.

If you have the latest electronic gadgets, did you pay for them yourself? I don’t think I have the latest gadgets. But I do pay for my stuff myself.

Do you always put your litter in a trashcan? Yes and I can’t stand people who casually litter.

When you walk/ride your bike/drive your car, are you careful? I wouldn’t say I’m super careful when I walk since I tend to get lost in my thoughts while walking. If I was driving I would definitely try to be really careful.

What is the rudest thing a person could do or say to you? Have you ever been that rude to someone else? I don’t know what would be the rudest thing.

Do you think your parents are proud of you and what you do with your life? I hope they are. But honestly I don’t think I’ve done that much. I mean I’m in university right now which is something I’ve never thought I could achieve but I still feel behind in life for some reason.

Which would you rather be, famous or a “nobody”? Why? I’d rather be neither of these but if I absolutely had to choose I’d pick being a nobody because being famous would be too much for me.

Do you need to have the latest fashion in clothes and accessories? No.

If you have a job, do you get along with your co-workers? I don’t have a job now.

What kind of hobbies do you have? Would anything in the whole world make you give up any of those hobbies? Painting, drawing, dancing. I don’t want to give up these hobbies.

Have you had/do you have any pets? I have two cats.

If you aren’t already, would you ever get married? Maybe.

#survey #surveys

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the-lunatic-archives · 2 years

Text

A dainty hand rapped against the threshold of the open door, jolting me away from my emails. "Hello. Please, come in," I said.

"Good morning," I responded. "You're early today!" I smiled at them, but they only squinted back.

"I didn't have anything better to do. Sitting in your waiting room beats sitting at home right now." They leaned forward and retrieved one of the doodads I kept on my desk, a plastic cube covered in spinners, buttons, clickers. "You should talk to Mavis about letting your patients in early. Could've caught you looking up porn," they said, smirking, without lifting their gaze from the toy.

I let out a miniscule sigh. "First of all, time and place, second, my door is open,"

"I don't judge."

"Right. Thank you." I turned my chair around and reached for a clipboard with Fiona's notes and paperwork, which I had prepared in advance of our appointment today. "Let's begin, then," I continued, as I got up to close the door to my office. "Have you been taking your medication?"

"Yup."

"How does it feel?"

"Bad."

I waited for an elaboration, then said, "Well, that's not good."

"Bad things aren't good, Dr. Ballard."

"Bad things aren't good," I repeated, pretending very convincingly to write that down on my clipboard. Fiona scoffed. "You might find it funny now," I said, shaking my pen at them, "but this might offer some good insight into your development as we continue. Now please, explain what is 'bad.'"

Fiona leaned back in their chair and exhaled, the pace of their clicking on the cube increasing subtly. "My dad's never been happy about… the meds business… and has been-" they paused for a second, and looked as if to ask me for permission- "kind of a bitch to me recently for starting them again."

"That's a shame," I said, "but I have a feeling he might appreciate it once we reach a breakthrough. What makes it bad for you, though? Emotions, appetite, hormonal changes…?"

"Don't think that's all that different. I think I'm alright, mostly."

"Are you adjusting to your new life here?"

"Oh, it's great," they said. "I went from having no friends in Des Moines to having no friends in Boulder."

"No luck with finding friends via your school yet, then, huh?" I wrote this down in their notes.

"Not even trying. I don't have time for anyone else right now, you know, not even myself."

I glanced wearily at some of my prior notes that I'd taken about Fiona in previous sessions.

Returning my gaze to them, I said, "Then Mason must be doing well."

"I do my best." Fiona rolled their head back and dropped their arms somewhat. "He's making new friends and doing as well in school as he ever does," they said, "but…"

I raised my eyebrow, and my pen.

"He really misses our mom. He knows we're staying here, but," they said, wincing slightly, "he's started asking when we'll go visit her."

"I told him that we'd drive to Iowa when summer starts and I'm more comfortable driving all that way. But… I haven't told Dad about this yet. I don't know what to do."

"What about this would he take issue with, if anything?"

Fiona looked almost offended that I'd asked. "Uh, hello? Thousand-mile roadtrip with my baby brother? Going to visit our sick mom who couldn't move with us? Does that sound like a good idea?"

"What sounds like a good idea to me," I said, resting my clipboard on the desk, "is tempering your brother's expectations. He's seven- he's likely going to hold you to your promise. You're not comfortable making this trip now and are not sure if you will be later." I reclined in my seat, steepling my fingers. "Do you want to see your mom?"

Fiona hesitated. "Only because Mason wants to," they blurted out finally. I could see them trying really hard to process how they were feeling- it manifested as an ever-changing array of plaintive, uneasy expressions on their face. "It doesn't… really matter to me if I see her again."

"Does it not? Why?"

"I just don't care."

"That's very cold." I picked up my papers, noting the absence of notes about their mother's personality; the only thing I had written about her was, Cardiovascular disease. I silently cursed myself for the lack of detail.

I cleared my throat. "Your mother was instrumental in getting your treatment restarted, was she not? Doesn't that deserve something?"

Fiona scoffed again. "Maybe." They opened their palm and let the fidget cube roll out onto the floor, then began kicking it around with their feet. "Doing one good thing doesn't make you a good person."

"Well, it is a parent's job nonetheless to see to it that their children are taken care of,"

They raised a finger to cut me off. "She's not even the one paying for these sessions or my brain pills," they said harshly. "You literally have my grandpa's card on file."

"Were you the one that asked for it?"

Fiona furrowed their brow and crossed their arms in response.

"So, I'm going to ask you again, what you want out of these sessions," I said. This is a question that they couldn't answer previously. "Have you put any thought into it?"

"I like that I can complain about the things I hate in life to someone who doesn't really care about them." Fiona gave a toothy, but fake, smile.

"Whether or not I care about them is going to depend on how relevant they are to the goals that you have for our meetings," I said bluntly. "I mean, I'm going to hope for the best for you and do what I can to push you in the right direction, but we can only make so many developments off how annoying your history teacher is."

They threw their head back. "Oh my god," they groaned, louder than I'd ever heard them speak before. "I freaking can't with that guy. It's like everything he says and does is designed and peer-reviewed and cited to piss me off." They covered their face, still in a skyward direction, with both their hands, shaking subtly. "That smug fucking face that he had when I went to schedule an exam retake, I just- argh!"

"How passionate!" I said, clasping my hands together. "Tell me, have you been experiencing… outbursts, recently? Not just of anger, but of sadness, or happiness,"

"I don't know." Fiona lowered their arms, and looked sheepish. "I'm sorry. That was weird." Their trembling subsided.

"That might have been progress," I said, picking up my pen. Emotional development, I wrote. (In the "it exists" sense)

"Do you find yourself getting 'weird' like that at home?"

"Hell no. I stay in my room and everyone else stays out. It's been like that since before we moved here." They started slouching in their chair. "It's just better that way."

"What about dinnertime, or other gatherings?"

"I eat in my room." Fiona sighed. "Maybe… sometimes… Mason joins me, if Dad's not in a good mood." They shifted to look down at the cube on the floor, their bangs obscuring their eyes to me.

"Do you know what causes him to be in a bad mood enough such that your brother would rather join you?"

Fiona glared. "It's usually me," they said.

"Certainly not,"

"No. It's almost always me. When we do interact, it's arguing about some shit, and then he starts yells something like 'oh, why can't you just be normal,' or 'I did not raise you to be like this,' like, bitch, this isn't even what we were talking about. You're just complaining about me as if I even have the power to change anything around here."

"This is new," I said. "What do you feel powerless about?"

"Fuckin' everything," they said, standing up. They started ambling about the room, back and forth. "I don't have a job so I have no money, I transferred schools in the middle of senior year, my parents don't respect me or who I want to be as a person, and I can't find a group to fit in with at my school. What more is there for me to explain to you?"

"Are any of these things any different now from how they were before we started meeting?"

"No. Everything is the same now as it was before this and also while we were in Iowa, and I can't control any of it. It fucking sucks," they said. Tears were beginning to form in their eyes. I grabbed a box of tissues from my side table and wordlessly set them on the desk in front of Fiona. "And thanks to you and what we talked about last week I can't even passively wish for an end to everything without thinking about Mason, and thinking about how sad he would get if I were gone makes me start bawling my eyes out, like, like-" They took a tissue and blew their nose, then looked at me indignantly. "Like this! He even walked into my room while I was crying one day- I don't even remember over what- and he got so scared when I couldn't explain why that he told our dad about it. Which led yet to another round of him calling me things like 'a junkie' and threatening to cancel our appointments and keep me in my room, and,"

I tried, really, really hard to maintain my composure as they broke down and started wailing.

"I don't know what's happening," they cried, "Everything has been bothering me so much lately." They drew more tissues. "I just want everything to go back to the way it was."

"You want to go back to Iowa?" I asked.

"I want everyone to stop making things into such a big deal," Fiona said. "Why does everyone care so much about stupid bullshit that doesn't matter like the way that I dress or the name I want to be called?"

"Those are things that matter, Fiona- they're so important to you that when they're disregarded it hurts, and not for no reason- it's dismissive and disrespectful. You're allowed to want better for yourself; you have to decide what you can and can't deal with and what you're going to try to do to reach for the changes you want to see in your life." I rested my forehead in my hand, leaning over my desk. "When you're older, that may mean having difficult conversations with your family in order to discern whether or not those are changes you can put your trust in them to be at peace with. If it turns out not to be the case, you'll then have to decide how much more of the status quo you're willing to endure."

"I can't do anything like that," they said, feebly. "There's no guarantee that I won't be tossed in the street before I get to make my points, or that anyone, even my grandparents, would be willing to help me out if that happened. I have no friends here, no resources, other than," Fiona waved their hands around my office, "this thing we're doing here, and I have nowhere else to go." They sat down in the other chair than the one they were sitting in previously. "What would you do in my shoes?"

"It would be poor form for me to give you any advice that could be construed as an instruction," I said, sitting up and looking at them. "I can only help you unpack what's going on in your brain and push you towards having the ability to give yourself the necessary confidence and self-value to make your own decisions." Clasping my hands together, I pointed my index fingers at them. "Doesn't that sound desirable?"

Fiona rested their head on their fist, propped up on the armrest. "Honestly, I don't know if I see A to B there. But for as long as I'm here… well, I guess it doesn't hurt to try."

"So long as you're honest with me and you don't mind being asked some hard questions and being told to think about things, we'll get there." I started unclipping Fiona's notes and paperwork and scuttled them into a folder. Reclining in my seat slightly, I said, "It's really easy to expect the worst out of what's yet to come. You might have realised already- or perhaps you will realise soon- that you've grown a lot in just the past month."

"Not according to my dad," Fiona said, kicking the fidget cube across the floor.

I caught the cube underfoot, then leaned down to pick it up. "It's a matter of perspective," I said. "One person's growth may be another's regression. From my perspective, the most important thing is that the person who grows does so with intent. The cause for that personal development may happen due to circumstance, or external design, but at the end of the day, that person ultimately chooses how that growth shapes and reflects on them." Fiona wiped the last of their tears from their face, and looked at me. I went on: "When it comes to your case, well, persisting in the face of apathy, and disillusionment with this life, and gradually turning it into something else- something more enriching and fulfilling? Having the capacity to make that sort of change is unbelievably valuable."

"But, it's also completely impossible, if you're not in the right frame of mind; even with the right mindset, it's very difficult. Many people who tried to go through what you're doing now, who sat in those chairs, either failed because they couldn't make that change in them or were failed by their support- or lack thereof." Fiona glanced to the side briefly. I knew exactly who they were thinking of, but continued: "Last month, you told me that you didn't even want to be here, because it was a waste of time, and that you would be pulled from medication and it would ruin your relationships with your family and your peers again."

Fiona covered their face and shrunk in the chair slightly. "Well, like, yeah, that's all that I knew that would happen. Duh. It's what did happen to me in the past. I just figured, you know. Why even put in the effort? I don't trust anything in this godforsaken life to go right."

I leaned forward, and put on a serious face. "I'm here to help you get into a place where the first thing you trust is yourself. What is all of life, but trudging ahead, into the great unknown that is the future? With just our talk today, comparing it to our meetings throughout the past month, I can already see you tackling issues pragmatically, realistically, and analytically, through the combination of your own strength and help from your support network in the future. You just have to stay calm and not lose yourself to despair, and eventually, it'll all become second nature to you. Doesn't that sound doable?"

"Maybe. I think so." Fiona hesitated, then looked up. "Are you speaking from experience, Dr. Ballard?" Rather than answer, I chuckled.

"As I said, it's easy to expect the worst, but sometimes, things just wind up not being that bad. Sometimes, bad things that go well do so because you had the power in you to face it, head-on, in stride." I smiled, and held out my hand. "And that's good."

Fiona smiled back, genuinely, their eyes seemed positively shining behind those bangs. They gave me a firm handshake, and said, "See you next week."

#third archive #author:taizen

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diaphragmjellyfish · 3 years

Text

I Have This... Thing

Not My Gif

So as someone with vaginismus, it’s sometimes frustrating to read fan fiction, specifically smut. Y/N always has sex so easily and with very little foreplay, finishing with no issues. And it’s so great for people who can do that, but it’s not the case for all of us. Some of us can’t have any sort of penetration without pain. Some people can’t finish without toys, or hours of work. Some people will never be able to have penetrative sex. There’s all kinds of people, and there’s all kinds of sex. But not near enough fics featuring Y/N’s with these issues. So I’m going to write some, and feel free to request any issue with any character, and if I don’t know that character, we can collaborate to find a character you like that I do know.

Paul Lahote x reader smut.

You had lived in Forks for about 6 months now. You’ve known your new friends here for 5 months. And you’ve been the imprint of Paul Lahote for 3 months. Well, you’ve been his imprint since you guys first locked eyes at La Push when you first hung out with Emily, but he didn’t tell you about the whole werewolf/ imprint thing until 3 months ago. Safe to say it came as a shock. Your friends, the people who had welcomed you so easily, helped you move furniture around, and gave you tours of the new town, were WOLVES. Or engaged to wolves. *cough* Emily *cough*. You had to take a few weeks break from them after they told you. After Sam explained the legends, the lore. After Paul told you that you were basically his soul mate. It’s a lot to take in!

But you quickly realized that you had grown to love the pack. And now that you knew the big secret, things were easier around them. No more lies about where they had all been. No more avoiding talking about their mysterious injuries that only seemed to last for a couple hours. No more awkwardly dancing around why Paul stared at you constantly and wouldn’t let any other guy get within 6 feet of you without having a rage attack and sprinting into the woods. Things were going good.

Well… as good as they could be without sex. Yep. You and Paul had been together for 3 months and you have not had sex. You didn’t give each other head. You didn’t take your clothes off around each other. You didn’t even dry hump. And you knew it was your fault. You could tell that Paul was getting nervous about the fact that you wouldn’t let him touch you like that. He would never ask you about it, because he wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, but you could tell it was on his mind. The little sad smile he would give when you stopped things from going further. The hover of his hands over your ass before landing back on your waist. The way he looked almost guilty after looking at you in a swimsuit or crop top.

See, vaginismus made relationships difficult. You never had a long term relationship before Paul. You were either too scared to tell partners about it, and just dealt with the excruciating pain, which would lead to resentment and breakups, or you would tell them and they would ghost you. Guys don’t normally go for girls who’s opening line is “Hi! I cannot have sex without crying.” You’d been dilating for almost a year now. It was going okay. Some days hurt more than others. A lot of times, Paul would ask you to hang out when you were in the middle of your physical therapy, and you would have to make up some excuse as to why you couldn't. Too tired. Headache. Stomach bug. He was starting to catch on.

One day, you guys were hanging out at your apartment watching a movie. You had been making out, but as soon as it started getting slightly heated, you had pulled away and got up to get a drink refill. Paul, having gotten used to the routine, didn’t question you. While you were in the kitchen pouring some more juice, Paul asked “Hey babe? Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah it’s in the top drawer of my bedside table,” you haphazardly yelled back.

You heard him get up and go into your bedroom, rummaging around a little. Then silence.

“Hey babe?” he said hesitantly. You thought he just couldn’t find the charger, so you began walking towards your room to grab it for him. Once you got to the doorway, you stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes wide. Face bright red. Paul held up the dilator you were currently on, which was about 5 inches long and looked… well let’s be honest. It looked like a dildo. The bottle of lubricant that was also in the drawer didn’t help your case. How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself? You expected Paul to tease you, make some sex jokes, and maybe try to make out with you again, but he didn’t. He looked absolutely crushed.

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” He asked, sounding on the verge of tears.

“What?! Paul, of course I want to have sex with you!”

“Then why this?” he pressed.

“You don’t even know what that’s for. Let me explain,” you pleaded, afraid he was going to lose that infamous temper. You’d never witnessed it before, but you were scared you were about to.

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what this is for!” He exclaimed, holding it up. “You won’t even let me kiss your neck but you have this that you obviously use when I’m not around. You don’t want to have sex with me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Paul! That’s not true at all!” You were starting to get irritated at his assumptions. “It’s for physical therapy.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling orgasms now?” He questioned, exasperated.

“I’m not talking about orgasms! If you gave me two seconds to explain, you would know that that does not bring me an ounce of pleasure. I hate having to use it.” You started to tear up at this, all the memories of your struggles surging back up. At this, Paul stopped. He looked super confused, but also worried about you. God forbid you shed a tear, Paul would rip the world apart to make you happy again. “Come sit down,” you said, resigned, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. Paul, still holding the dilator in his hand, sat down next to you. The silence seemed to last an eternity, but you knew that the longer you went without explaining, the more hurt Paul would feel.

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was for physical therapy,” you whispered. “I have other ones. All different sizes.” You realized you might not have been helping your case with this.

“I don’t understand. Why do you need them if you don’t use them to get off?” He looked like a kicked puppy.

“Well… I have this thing. It’s like… a condition? And I need them so maybe one day I can have sex without any pain.” He still looked wildly confused, and you knew you were going to have to elaborate. “When I first started having sex, it hurt. A lot. But I always heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time. So I just kind of put up with it. It was bad though. I always tapped out, couldn’t go for more than a couple minutes. It felt like this really intense stinging. Like a rugburn all inside me. And it didn’t stop, even after I started doing it more. It never went away… I ended up googling it, and it’s actually something that a lot of women struggle with. I made a doctor’s appointment and was lucky enough to get diagnosed the first time. Lots of women are told they’re making it up. My doctor gave me these dilators, told me how to use them, and said that with enough time and physical therapy, I could have painless sex one day.” When you finished, you turned to look at him. He was staring intently at the dilator, thinking.

“So, you have to like… stretch yourself? Were you just born too small?” He phrased it delicately, but you knew what he meant.

“Basically, it’s an anxiety disorder with very physical symptoms. My pelvic floor muscles constrict when I try to put anything inside me, which makes it super painful. It’s like an involuntary reflex. Like blinking when something flies near your face. And I have to condition my body to learn that penetration doesn’t hurt, and that it doesn’t have to tighten up like that. The condition is called vaginismus. You can google it yourself if you want.”

“Oh.” A pause. Paul knew you had some anxiety, but he never guessed it could cause something like this. He knew you were embarrassed. He could tell. And the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you couldn’t be open and vulnerable with him. Did you think he would leave you? Or get mad? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the question that came out.

“It’s humiliating. I could tell you were getting antsy about us not having sex, and I guess I didn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. This physical therapy, it takes a while. I’ve already been doing it for almost a year, and I still have three sizes after this one.” A tear fell. You wiped it away quickly, hoping he Paul wouldn’t notice, but he did. He moved to wrap his arms around you, putting the dilator back on your nightstand. He embraced you, and the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere was more than you could handle. You burst into tears as he pulled you onto his lap and rocked you both, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You guys stayed there until you stopped crying, and then he finally spoke.

“Y/N, I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s something you can’t tell me. I love you. And yeah, I would love to have sex with you one day, but I’m with you because of who you are. I don’t care if we never do it. You are my person, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest you can be. This? This thing you think is such a problem? It’s irrelevant to me. To my love for you. And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, cheering you on, until you don’t want me anymore.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I love you, Paul,” was all you could say. You leaned in and shared the sweetest, most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. When you pulled away, the tension in the room was gone, replaced with you and Paul’s usual light, fun energy.

“How do you use them?” He smiled as he asked, nodding his head towards your nightstand where the dilator still rested. “Do you like… just ride them? Or..?”

You laughed, which made his smile broaden. “It’s not a sexual thing. Basically I put a towel down, cover the dilator in lube, and put it in as far as I can without pain. Then, I just sit there and leave it for like 20 minutes. And then I take it out.”

“So you just like... do homework while you do it?” His concerned face made you laugh again.

“You have to make your body associate it with pleasure, so no, I don’t do homework. Normally I’ll watch a funny show or eat some candy or FaceTime you.”

He froze at this. “You do this when we FaceTime?”

This made you blush and look away from his piercing gaze. “Sometimes. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just a nice distraction.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to stop. It’s just… can I see you do it?” This question shocked you. Not just the question itself, but the fact that you didn’t hate the idea. You loved kissing Paul. What better way to associate therapy with pleasure than by kissing him while you do it?

“Are you sure? Like I said, it’s not exactly sexual. Or sexy. Like at all. I literally just sit there.”

“I know, it’s ok. I want to be able to help you, but if you don’t want to we can just go back to the movie.”

“I mean I do still have to do it today.” You thought for another second, before jumping up and saying “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Paul looked happy and excited, but also lost. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his eyes. Did you want him to touch you? Or just watch you? Or just sit in the corner of the room and face the wall? You were spreading a towel across the middle of the bed, and went to untie your sweatpants before looking at him.

“Guess we haven’t really gotten this far, huh?” alluding to being naked in front of each other. It did make you a little nervous, and nerves equal tight muscles, which means pain.

“Why don’t you put a blanket over yourself? That way there’s less pressure,” he suggested, and you could have kissed him for it. You smiled, nodded, and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. He turned around to face the wall while you took off your pants and settled under the blanket.

“Ok, I’m good.” you said. He turned back around, coming to kneel beside you on the bed.

“Do you want me to just… hold your hand? Or sit here and talk to you?”

“Would you want to sit behind me?” You suggested nervously, leaning forward slightly.

“Of course! Yeah, I can do that.” He took this seriously, and you appreciated that. This was a scenario you had thought about many times, and though you knew he wouldn’t be the type to ask you to have sex with him despite the pain, it was always a possibility. The fact that he didn’t take your pain lightly, and let you be in charge so you would be comfortable, meant more to you than he would ever know. Paul gently climbed behind you, putting his legs on either side of you, and hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. You leaned back into him, as if to say I’m okay with this.

“Can you hand me the… “ You nodded your head towards the nightstand, and Paul didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence before he leaned over and grabbed the dilator and bottle of lube, holding them out in front of you both. You muttered a “thanks” as you took them from his hands, and brought them under the blanket. After slathering the dilator with a good amount of lube, you closed the bottle and tossed it towards the foot of the bed, leaning back and shifting your hips down. Paul clearly didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he was slow and careful as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you time to say stop. You didn’t, though. He felt your body tense slightly as you dragged the tip of the dilator around your entrance, so he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, kissing your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, and he met you with a sweet kiss. You guys pulled away slightly, before going back in as you began to push the dilator in further. He kissed you with love, tenderness, and care, so as not to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It was clear that you had the reigns, and Paul would stop as soon as you gave the slightest indication that you were uncomfortable. The dilator was about half way in, and you felt a slight stinging sensation, but kissing Paul distracted you. You brought one hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him back in.

Paul kept kissing you, waiting for your lips to part so he could brush his tongue against yours. This is normally where you would stop him, but he knew everything now. There was no expectation of more, and damn. Paul was a really good kisser. He sucked lightly at your lower lip, before nibbling it and letting it go, coming back in with his lips. The combination of Paul’s kisses, the slight heat they brought to your body, and the pressure of the tip of the dilator inside you had you shift your hips, and involuntarily let out a small moan. It was barely audible, but Paul and his super senses heard it. You pulled away and slapped a hand over your mouth, your face turning bright red. He chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to your body, and brought his hand up to pull your hand off your mouth. “Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he teasingly whispered into your ear. You shivered, and Paul started to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, and onto your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, hands squeezing your waist and rubbing up and down. You wanted to try something. For the first time, dilating actually didn’t feel so obligatory, so mechanical and stiff. You pushed the dilator deeper in, just about a centimeter, but enough to give you that feeling you had moments ago. You let out a breathy sigh as you tilted your head to give Paul more room on your neck. He felt you shift your hips again, and brought one of his hands to rub circles on your lower stomach. Skin on skin. And it felt good.

You kept going like this for a few minutes, and Paul could feel your skin grow hotter by the second. Your back was arched, your neck covered in light red marks, and Paul had the intense desire to see you unravel. He brought his lips from your neck up to the side of your face, getting as close to eye contact as he could in this position, and said “Can I touch you?”

You knew what he meant. The thought of it made you nervous. No one had touched you without it hurting before. It was almost as if he read your mind when he followed with “I can just stay on the outside…” Oh. You could be down with that. You turned your head to him and nodded.

“Just try not to touch the dilator,” you said softly. You trusted Paul. He was already being so kind and patient with this, and you knew he would die before he would ever hurt you. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your stomach travelled lower. Lower. Lower. Until he could feel the slight stubble of a past shave, and then your soft, wet skin. You gasped as he touched your most sensitive parts, even more so because of how turned on you were. He gently made small, tight circles over your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell completely slack against him and let out a moan. A real moan, that Paul swore he would never forget. And he made you make that sound. It only spurred him on. He applied slightly more pressure, but not so much as to overwhelm you. And he knew that when girls were feeling good, the secret wasn’t faster or harder, but to keep doing exactly what you were doing. So that’s what he did, and it had you writhing. Your moans kept coming, and your legs had started to shake. However, because it felt so good, your muscles had started to clench around the dilator, and it was beginning to hurt.

You didn’t want to rain on the parade. It was going so well. But Paul being the attentive lover that he is, noticed you begin to tense up in a new way. He brought his hand back up to your stomach, concern racing through his brain, and asked “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“It’s kind of starting to. Not you, the dilator. I think I might take it out.” You stared down at his hand still touching your stomach. Such beautiful hands. You didn’t want it to end.

“Do you want to try a smaller one? Or do you want to stop?” He questioned.

“I really don’t want to stop,” you laughed. He breathed a laugh as well, and waited for your direction. You had a thought. Paul’s index finger was smaller than the dilator. Much smaller. If you just told him what to do and what not to do, that could feel really good. “Would you want to maybe… Nevermind.” You got nervous.

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t do that. Tell me what you want,” He brought a finger up to your chin and moved your face towards him. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Princess. It’s yours.” Your whole body shuddered at this. He’s never called you that before, and to say it did something to you would be an understatement.

You let out a breath, gathering courage, and said “Would you want to… use your finger?”

He stopped at this. “Like, put my finger inside you? That wouldn’t hurt?”

“I don’t think so. It’s smaller than this,” you said, bringing the dilator out and up. “And as long as I tell you what to do, it could be really good,” you said the last part shyly.

“Okay, Princess. I can do that. How do you want me to do it?”

“Try to do more… pressure, and less… friction? Like try not to go in and out so much, but you can move it around inside.” Your face was once again blushing intensely.

“Anything you want. You just have to promise that you’ll tell me if it even hurts a little.”

“I promise.” You said it confidently enough that Paul brought his hand back down under the blanket. He circled your clit a couple times, making you shiver and release a breathy sigh, before moving his middle finger even lower, circling your entrance. He gathered some of the lube that was there from the dilator, coating his finger, and you brought your hand down to hold it, guiding it inside you at a speed that was comfortable. It was smaller than the dilator, so he was in you in 15 seconds. He stopped, and gave you a minute to adjust. Your hips writhed again because of how turned on you were, so Paul brought his other hand down and began circling your clit again. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you began to moan again, hips moving even more now. Paul took this as his queue to press his middle finger up against your inner wall lightly, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth. You were too far gone to be embarrassed.

“There you go, baby,” he praised. God, this was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He was barely touching you, barely moving his finger inside you, and you were a mess. He had been rock hard since you guys started, but your ass was rubbing against him as you moved your hips, and he released a small growl at the feeling. This only turned you on more. He kept moving his finger in you the same way. Pressure, not friction. Pressure, not friction. He kept telling himself this. He wanted to finger bang you into oblivion, but the risk of hurting you was too high, so he kept up with rubbing the tip of his finger against that spot on your upper wall, in a “come-hither” motion. Your moans began to get higher in pitch, your body tensing even more.

“Relax your muscles for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, and you did. Your release was approaching rapidly, and you wanted to grind against his hand, but you didn’t want to risk pain, so you trusted Paul to get you there. You were panting, hips shuddering, face scrunched, as your climax hit you like a wave. Your legs shook as you opened your mouth in a silent scream, and Paul carried you all the way through it. You came down, and lightly grabbed his wrists. He knew that that meant stop. So he slowly withdrew his finger, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. Head still up in the clouds, you watched him, slack-jawed, as he popped his finger out and moaned. “So sweet,” he purred. Watching him suck on his finger like that made you think of something you’d like to suck on, and you looked down at Paul, still rock hard, and turned around in his lap.

“Let me return the favor,” you said with a smirk.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote smut #wolf pack #seth clearwater #embry call #quil ateara #sam uley #jacob black #jared cameron #robert pattinson #bella swan #edward cullen #vaginismus #dilating #paul lahote x reader smut #twilight smut

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 2 years

Text

Walsh Sibling AU-- Older Brother Version

Like, a man a few years older than Lena approaches her as she leaves the office of her new foundation. He apologizes for catching her at a bad time, but he's been trying to schedule an appointment but her assistant hadn't been willing to book him in.

Canonically, Lena has been willing to receive visitors who arrive without appointments (see: Kara Danvers, Ben Lockwood), so of course she takes some time to pause and hear him out.

He asks if there's somewhere more private where they could talk (as they are currently in the middle of the sidewalk), but Lena explains that she a) is busy, and b) has a policy against going anywhere with strange men whose business she does not know. Which, he acknowledges, is fair enough.

He hems and haws a little bit, trying to explain that it's something difficult to explain, and he's not sure how to go about telling her.

"I'm sorry," Lena interjects when he gets nowhere after several moments, "but I really am on my way to an appointment--"

"I'm your brother," the man blurts.

Lena freezes. Whatever she expected to say, it's not that. A dozen thoughts flash behind her eyes, trying to figure out his angle, but almost immediately simply puts on a grin.

"Seeing as you have a full head of hair and aren't currently in the Phantom Zone, I'll have to disagree," she tells him with a chuckle. She makes to leave. "Nice try, though."

Before she can move more than than two feet, the man calls out and roots her to the spot.

"Your birth name is Lena Walsh." Lena slowly turns towards him. "You once had a bear named Miss Pizzly. It was brown, and soft, and you carried it everywhere."

No one could possibly know that. Miss Pizzly had barely survived a week at the Luthor manor before she mysteriously disappeared.

"Elizabeth Walsh drowned in a lake in 1996. She was from Fortune Bay, but came to the States after the death of her friend's husband."

The man takes a step towards her, as Lena watches him with a wary eye.

"They say she was a witch," he says, his voice hushed so only Lena can hear.

For several long moments, Lena regards him, weighing her options and the likelihood of him being who he says he is. She comes to no conclusion, reticent to trust the idea of a brother who's never been mentioned.

"What do you want?" she says finally.

The man settles back on his heels, seemingly satisfied that she hasn't rejected his claim outright. He puts his hands in his coat pockets. Lena has to admit he doesn't look threatening.

"I'd hoped we'd have a chance to get to know each other." His mouth lifts into a hopeful smile. "I'm Eoin."

Lena's eyes narrow. "And if what you say is true, Owen, why now?"

The man offers a shrug. "I only learned who you'd become when I spent a few days back in Fortune Bay. Florence told me everything about your visit."

Florence's mention is enough to give at least some of his story credence. It's enough for her to open herself up to believing, just maybe, he might be telling the truth.

"Let's take this somewhere more private."

Somewhere more private is back inside her office-- she'd prefer the familiarity of her own apartment, away from the ears of any prying assistants, but she knows better than to show a stranger where she lives. So the office has to do, and she returns her coat and purse to their rack.

There, in the place of her professional power, she prompts him to elaborate. Eoin gladly gets started, sharing that he's four years older than Lena, that they'd had different fathers and than when their mother died he'd gone to live with his Da (who was also from Fortune Bay, but had left in search of better work a few years before Elizabeth did), but had visited Florence in the summers.

Florence had tried teaching him magic, but he never had the spark. Too much of his dad in him, Florence always said. But he learned the way of nature and the various plants that could be made into tinctures and the like, before he finally graduated secondary and found work in Canada.

Now he's a welder, he tells her. It's honest work, but pays enough to get by. He's not here for money, nor a hand to lift him above his current means. He only wants to regain the sister he thought lost to him-- might as well have died with their mother, for all he knew what happened to her.

"I'm glad you found a good family," he says.

Lena fights the urge to scowl. "You mean a rich family." She pegs him with a hard stare. "Their wealth doesn't mean they were kind, or warm. It doesn't mean I was loved."

Eoin winces a little. "I'm sorry," he offers. "I'd hoped you'd have that, at least. It's what Ma would have wanted."

While he's been sharing his story, Lena had subtly texted Kara a message-- to come to her office with a cheek swab kit. Kara's knock then saves Lena from having to respond, instead turning to greet Kara (who doesn't wait for an invitation to enter).

Kara Danvers regards Eoin suspiciously. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she says carefully.

"You're right on time," Lena assures her.

Not taking her eyes off the unfamiliar man in Lena's office, Kara extends the small cardboard box towards Lena.

"I brought the thing you asked for," she says. "Everything okay?"

Lena neither confirms nor refutes. "Kara, this is Eoin. Eoin..." She waits for Eoin to provide his last name.

"Oh!" Eoin straightens, his cheeks splitting into a charming smile that reminds Kara of... someone else's. He reaches out to offer a handshake. "Dunne. Eoin Dunne."

Kara takes his hand and gives it a slow up and down. "Kara Danvers."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

When Kara reclaims her hand and shoots Lena an inquisitive glance, Lena continues. "Mr. Dunne here claims he's the son of Elizabeth Walsh."

A familiar crinkle appears between Kara's eyebrows. Kara's heard all about Lena's mother by now-- the good, bad, and ugly. The pieces slowly fall into place.

"Which would mean..."

"We're related," Lena confirms. "Yes. That is, if Mr. Dunne doesn't object to a DNA test." She brandishes the swab kit.

Eoin's demeanor doesn't sour in the slightest. "'Course not," he replies. "I'm happy to provide any proof you'd like... birth certificate or such."

"We'll take things one step at a time--"

"Oh! I almost forgot." Eoin rifles through his pockets, before finally withdrawing a photograph from his inside jacket pocket. He hands it to Lena. "Thought you might want to see this."

Lena takes the photo in her fingers, bringing it closer. Kara leans in, curious to see as well. Lena's heart leaps to her throat at the image captured by the camera.

It's a little girl sitting in front of a slightly off-center homemade birthday cake, with a party hat on her head. A taller, lanky boy stands beside the birthday girl, bedecked in a matching hat. The boy is watching the girl as she blows out her candles; even through the lens and the years, the affection in his gaze is unmistakeable.

Lena can't say she recognizes the boy, or even see any familiarities in the man now in her office, but she recognizes the little girl.

It's herself.

"Ma got that picture on your fourth birthday," Eoin explains. "When the photo came back she said it was her favorite yet. Put it on the fridge, even."

Even without the proof of the DNA test, belief sparks in her chest.

"Why wouldn't I remember you?"

Eoin shrugs. "You were young. Can't say I remember much from when I was four. Or maybe it was easier not to."

Their eyes meet for a long moment, before Eoin shifts readily.

"You wanna take your swab then?"

He opens his jaw for easier access. Kara takes the kit from Lena's frozen fingers and swabs his cheek, carefully depositing the swab in its plastic cap.

"Thank you," Kara says softly.

Eoin nods. "Of course." He looks to Lena. "I really don't want anything from you, Lena. I just hoped we could reconnect. I've always wondered about you."

He smiles, then, his features warm.

"I've missed you."

Lena doesn't-- can't-- respond. After a long moment, Eoin straightens. "I'll take my leave. I've left my number with your assistant-- if decide you want to reach out. I'll be in town for about a week."

He tips his ballcap. "Ladies."

And then he's gone, letting himself out of Lena's office without any further ado. Silence stretches for a long moment, as Kara allows Lena some time to process what's just happened.

"You okay?" she asks finally, cupping Lena's elbow softly.

Lena doesn't have an answer to give her. Instead, she simply takes the swab kit from Kara's hand.

"Let's get this to the lab."

#walsh sibling au #older brother version #implied supercorp #thoughts?

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Note

Aaaaah an idea came to mind, (write it if you can please or jst elaborate more). Look, the reader is married to a normal man but her marriage has been going downhill, he is still in his single stage and does not want completely seriousness, while the reader wants to have children. To save their marriage they go to a couples therapy ... Dark!therapist!Bucky, listens for more than 2 hours to each one and realizes that the reader is always what he wanted, so he books an appointment with her again but only to her and tells her something like "Do you want a baby? I'll put one on you"

"do you know why I requested an individual appointment with you, mrs. stark?"

you shook your head.

"well, it's pretty typical with couple's counseling. I want you to feel comfortable telling me anything, even things you might not want to say in front of your husband."

"that makes sense," you decided.

"I wanted to talk more, specifically, about your husband's disinterest in starting a family. is that alright?"

"um, it's sort of hard for me to talk about, but I'll try."

"I appreciate that. not to sound too cliche but, when your husband continues to avoid chances at having children-- something you explained was important to you from the beginning-- how does that make you feel?"

"um... unwanted. less... less feminine? like, less like a woman because--"

"because a woman should be a mother," he finished for you.

you nodded a little, eyes watering.

"I can see how isolating that would feel," he agreed.

"I just feel so stupid," you whispered, trying not to cry, "for ever thinking he would change."

"you wanted to believe he would change his ways for you."

you cried harder, reaching for the tissues by the couch, but dr. barnes got up and grabbed them for you, wearing a soft look on his face. you nodded as a silent thank you and accepted them, wiping your face and hoping your mascara hadn't painted your face black yet.

you were a little surprised when, instead of returning to his chair, dr. barnes sat beside you on the couch and gave you a comforting side-hug

it seemed almost professional enough, even when he rubbed your arm a bit, but you knew it was a bad idea to lean your head into his shoulder. you did it anyway, and it really did soothe you to be in his arms.

tony always ran away when you cried, and it had been so long since someone held you in kindness like this.

he reached up and wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back slowly. "shh, it's alright," he soothed gently.

you mumbled apologies into his shoulder, taking a deep breath in and managing to calm down a bit as you pulled back slightly.

"don't apologise," he replied as he looked down at you, still just a little closer than he should be. "I think it's important that you accept your husband won't give you what you want."

it hurt to hear, but you nodded a little.

"but someone else can."

you were about to ask what he meant when he suddenly pinned you down and kissed you, trapping you on the couch with his strength.

you tried to push him away but he was so much stronger than you, his heavy body on top of yours making it hard to breath. he reached down and spread your legs at the same time he shoved his tongue into your mouth and you couldn't resist either, as much as you wanted to.

he pulled back just enough to stare down at you with a smile, running his hands up your legs until he was reaching under your skirt.

"I'm gonna make you feel like a woman," he promised, "and I'm gonna make you a mother."

"no, wait--"

"isn't that what this is all about?"

"dr. barnes, please, stop."

"are you objecting to my treatment methods, mrs. stark? I'd hate to have you institutionalized..."

you shut up quickly when he threatened that.

"good girl," he cooed, slipping his hand further down until he used two fingers to pull your panties aside, pushing them right into as you whimpered.

"y'gonna behave now and let me put a baby in you like you want so bad?"

you shuddered but nodded slightly, making him grin and twist his fingers inside you.

"I can tell it's true that he hasn't fucked you in months... you're fuckin' tight... god, if I had this pussy waiting for me at home I'd fill it every night-- wouldn't be running around with models like your limpdick husband..."

he kept moving his fingers until he found your sweet spot, given away by how you choked and your legs quivered.

"there it is," he grinned, curling his fingers into it again just to watch you squirm. "fuck, this pretty little cunt's clenching down on me real good, baby, been a while since you felt this good, huh?"

he pulled his fingers out to start hastily opening his belt, pulling out his cock and stroking it a few times.

"gonna feel even better when I'm coming inside you, mrs. stark..."

you gasped and winced as he started to push in, just the head a challenge for you.

"I'm bigger than your husband, aren't I? don't worry, you can take it."

"I- I can?"

"well, you're gonna."

he suddenly slammed all the way in, making you nearly scream as his cock tore into you splitting you open to the deepest parts of you.

"oh, fuck, that's my girl," he groaned, watching your face twist in pain. "that's my good fuckin' girl, look how fuckin' full your pussy is... look how good daddy fills you up, huh?"

you whined as he started to thrust, holding your hips tight so there was nowhere to run as he pounded you mercilessly.

"aw, does it hurt, pretty baby? fuck, don't worry, I'm not gonna take long... you feel too good. next time we have a private session I'll take my time with you, make you come a dozen times if you want, but right now I just need to fill you up."

you wrenched your eyes shut and tried to think about anything else, but it was hard to ignore the sound of his moans filling the room.

"gonna look so pretty with my seed growing in you... with my baby making your belly swell," he sighed. "and these tits," he added as he tore your blouse open to grope them, "they're gonna get so big and full of milk for our little one. will you let me have a taste, sweet girl?"

you whined and ignored the question, gasping when his thick fingers tweaked your nipples right as the head of his cock slammed into your spot.

"yeah, see? knew you'd love it, baby, knew you just needed to be fucked right. daddy's gonna give you all his come so you're nice and full, alright? I'll keep going 'til you're so full your tummy sticks out, right here," he grinned as he rubbed just below your bellybutton. "a little taste of what it'll be like when you start showing."

he moved faster and more erratically, chasing his peak.

"you want it, pretty girl? you want daddy's baby in you?"

he ignored your lack of an answer, groaning loudly as you felt his cock flex and hot ropes of come pump into you. he didn't slow down until every drop was inside, keeping you plugged with his cock as it twitched slightly and he sighed, catching his breath.

"I recommend... weekly individual sessions..." he decided between panting breaths, "until we're sure this issue is resolved."

#dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes hc #dark!bucky barnes noncon #although it's slightly more dubcon but whatever

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Note

Supercorp 26 if you’d please?!

"Yeah? Well, fuck you too."

Kara fought the urge to flinch at the harsh way the woman beside her slams her phone down in the space between them.

Kara was sat peacefully in her usual park bench today, like every day when she's got a few extra minutes on her lunch break. She's spotted this woman a few yards away, next to the drinking fountain, angrily talking into her phone.

An expensive looking, six-inch heel wearing, raven-haired woman.

Kara had observed her for a good few minutes before getting distracted by the ice cream truck.

By the time she came back to the park bench, said woman was already sitting next to her spot. Still ranting away into her phone.

Kara doesn't know whether to pity the creature on the other side of the phone or be curious. What could they have possibly done to warrant such a violent reaction???

The woman now has her hands pressed to her face, back hunched low, elbows resting on knees. Kara can feel the frustration rolling off of her in waves.

Kara gingerly pushes the 2nd cup of her ice cream towards her. It was a half-hearted decision really, she was excited to finish the second cup. But oh, well, when life calls for kindness Kara would deliver.

"Uhm, here, you sound like you had a bad day."

The woman slowly raises their head, looks at the offering in Kara's hands and then to Kara and then to the ice cream and then to Kara again.

Her eyes were a light green mixing with gold in the open sunlight of the park.

For a moment, Kara thinks, she wouldn't accept.

But then, pale hands reach towards hers and then, "Thank you."

Kara smiles brightly, perks up a bit at the approval.

'Of course," Kara says. "Nothing like ice cream to cheer you up!"

The woman gives her a small polite small, nods slowly and brings the plastic teaspoon to her lips.

Kara should not have been distracted by such a mundane gesture.

But here we are.

She tries to hide her blush, fidgets with her glasses and takes a spoonful herself before speaking again.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, what's got you so upset? I mean you totally don't have to tell me! If you don't want to, that is! I mean who am I, right? I'm probably a serial killer for all you know, but also would serial killers offer you ice cream, though? I don't think they would, I think they'd straight up just mur-"

Kara glances at the woman who seems to be holding her free hand over her face in an attempt to cover her amusement.

"Please stop me," Kara pleads. The other woman's shoulders shake in silent laughter before saving Kara.

"First off, thank you again. For this." She raises the cup playfully. "Second of all, it was just a work thing. But nothing I can't figure out and for the record, I also don't think serial killers would offer you ice cream."

And then more hesitantly the woman asks, "Do you have a sibling?"

Kara doesn't know if she should answer, the sibling question has no relevance to their current conversation after all. But Kara finds herself nodding along.

"Oh, yeah. I do. A sister. I have an older sister,' She elaborates.

"Good. Great. Then you know that feeling when your mom asks your sibling to do some chore and then somehow somewhere along the way, the chore ends up being your responsibility even though you weren't the one who was supposed to do it anyway??"

Wow, okay. That was a lot to take in. But Kara got most of it. And yeah, she does know. Snippets of Alex sneaking out and telling Kara to wash the dishes for her or fold the laundry for her--errands that were Alex's job getting passed down to her. Alex using the 'I'm older do as I say.' card when they were younger.

So, again, Kara finds herself nodding along.

"Yeah. I get what you mean," She says.

"Now, take whatever scenario in your mind and then multiply that ten-fold. Multiply it to disastrous proportions. To corporate, career-ending proportions,' The woman tells her, her irritation once again showing.

"Oh, oh wow, that sounds really bad?' It comes out like a question, she doesn't really know what to tell this woman. She doesn't want to say, Well, I think your sibling is an ass if they do that to you, she thinks that might be too much, might be overstepping a bit.

But then, "Oh yeah, my brother's an ass."

Oh, so not too much then.

Her companion lets out a deep sigh, "But what can you do? You can't change family. Not like I have much of a choice anyway."

The woman sounds defeated, tired. And it's only then that Kara notices how her eyes are sunken and how unnaturally pale she really is.

Kara wants to console her, to tell her that everyone always has a choice, every single one--even angry women she met in the park. You can always choose who you want as your family.

But instead Kara says, "Well, that's okay. Just look on the bright side, at least you got a free ice cream over it, right?"

The woman gives her another smile. A big smile, a real one this time.

And oh, she looks really beautiful when she smiles.

"I guess you're right. Thank you, really. I appreciate it very much," She tells Kara. "But I do have to get going now. Thank you again."

The woman collects her trash, picks up her phone and leaves Kara sitting there, a 'You're welcome!' stuck in her throat.

It isn't till the woman is lost to the crowd that Kara realizes she didn't ask for her name.

She tries to push down the disappointment, no use crying about it now. And besides, it's her first real interview today. Her first real exclusive and...she is so damn late.

******

"Miss Danvers, there have been a slight change of plans. Mr. Luthor seems to be unavailable for today but he did sent Ms. Luthor, LexCorp's R&D chief, to discuss the interview with you today."

Well, Kara can't really do anything about it can she? This is what Clark and Cat Grant had warned her about, people like Lex Luthor, making a journalist's job harder that it actually is.

"Oh, well, thank you for informing me. Can I go in now then?"

"Uh, yeah. Follow me please, it's just through here."

Kara is led through a long hallway of empty conference rooms and walls with abstract painting.

They reach the double doors at the end of the lobby and the petite woman guiding her, went on inside.

"Ms. Luthor, your CatCo appointment is here."

Kara hears a curt and brief, "Thanks Jess."

And then, there, sitting in a pristine office, National City skyline behind her is Lena Luthor--angry park bench seatmate who ate Kara's precious 2nd cup of ice cream.

Lena's eyes sparkle with recognition at the sight of Kara.

Her lips curling into a smirk.

"Oh, and who are you exactly?"

prompt list here

#can u see that all of the prompt fills are basically just the same formula haldhfladjsfl and im just recycling them #copy pasting them unto new aus #but whatever at least im writing WORDS.#and thats the important thing!#the reckless writer writes #prompt fills #supercorp #rcklss writes

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ijustwant2write · 3 years

Text

The Miracle Question-Bucky Barnes x Reader

(GIF credit to @sebastianruinedme)

Summary: When Bucky doesn’t tell (Y/N) that he missed his appointment, nearly getting into trouble with the government, she becomes furious and upset with him. She demands to have a session with him, wondering if their relationship is as stable as they thought it was, and if it’s actually making Bucky worse. To add to her anger, the new ‘Captain America’ decides to step in.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader (platonic), John Walker x Reader (acquaintances), Lemar Hoskins x Reader (acquaintances)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Mentions of therapy, arguing, slight violence, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Why would he do something like this and not tell me? He was doing so well with his appointments, and although I knew he wasn't enjoying them, at least he was going so he could get them over and done with. We hardly spoke of them, he was never the one to bring up the topic, it was always me; I just wanted to know how he was doing, I cared for him so much, and it was hurting me to think he wasn't able to open up.

"Sam." I got his attention as I briskly walked into the police station.

"Hey," he could see I was upset, immediately using a calmer tone,"he's alright. His therapist is here, she's got everything sorted."

"But why did it take me watching a video on twitter of my boyfriend being arrested to know about this?"

No one had called. Surely I was one of his emergency contacts? And if I (bizarrely) wasn't, why hadn't Sam called me?

Sam sighed."He didn't want you to know. He missed an appointment he had to go to and-"

"Didn't want me to know?!" I raised my voice, not caring if I grabbed the attention of anyone around us.

Sam held up his hands, trying to quieten me."Look, I'm not getting involved with your personal matters. That's up to you two. Just keep your voice down, we are in a police station."

I scoffed in disbelief."Why didn't he want me to know? He knew I would be angry, but I would never argue about it with him, or make him feel bad about it. I would support him."

"I know you wouldn't, and so does he. Bucky is still getting used to opening up, even with you. He just doesn't want to hurt you."

“Sam,” an older woman interrupted us,“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Doctor Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

They shook hands.“It’s so nice to meet you.”

Raynor put her attention on me, also shaking my hand.“You must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the girlfriend. I’ve also heard a lot about you.”

“You have? Oh, didn’t think he would talk about me that much.”

“Thank you for getting him out.” Sam quickly interjected.

“Oh, that was not me.”

“Christina!” another voice called out.

We all turned to see who called, and I almost rolled my eyes when I saw who it was. John Walker, the new ‘Captain America’, was headed our way, almost swaggering. People immediately wanted pictures which he agreed to, and although I know Steve might have done the same in some cases, it wouldn’t be a priority for him, nor would he look like was was enjoying it. Although I didn’t want to judge others before knowing them, America had given the title to some random man, forgetting that Steve was not only a hero, but a friend and family to people like us.

“It’s great to see you again.” Walker said as he shook someone’s hand.

“You gotta be kidding me, you know him?” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day.”

“Heard you were working with Bucky so I thought I would step in.” he said as he approached.“Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work. Who’s authorised this?”

“Um...” he smiled as he gestured to himself.

Who was he to come in here and change everything? Bucky was doing well in his therapy sessions...or at least I assumed he was, we never spoke about it. And I hated the way he called him ‘Bucky’; only close ones were allowed to call him that.

A loud buzzer sounded throughout the station, and I whipped my head around, relieved to see Bucky walking out with two police officers. I no longer listened to Walker, running towards my boyfriend. He easily caught me as I threw my arms around him, not caring that the policemen escorting him out were watching.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, seeming both worried and annoyed.

“Bucky, you got arrested! I had to come see you, make sure you’re OK. Why didn’t you get someone to call me? Also, why did you miss your session anyway?”

“It’s a long story. And it’s not worth telling.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s eye line was now on Walker as he shouted over his shoulder,“I’ll be outside.”

Before I could say anything else, Dr. Raynor spoke,“James, condition of your release, session now. You too, Sam and (Y/N).”

“That’s OK. I’ll be out here with-”

She interrupted Sam.“That wasn’t a request.”

Bucky was silent as he slid away, reluctantly following the doctor. I tried holding his hand, but he was making it difficult to even grab it in the first place. My heart sank at the thought of Bucky not wanting me there, not even wanting to be comforted. When these sessions first began, he would come home and want to be held, be comforted; sometimes he asked if he could hold me, just to ensure that I was there with him, that I could feel safe in his arms. That was happening less and less now, it scared me to think he didn’t want this relationship anymore.

We were sat in an interrogation room, Dr Raynor on one side and two chairs on the other. She told Bucky and I to sit first, and that she would deal with Sam later. Nerves suddenly washed over me, petrified of what sort of answers Bucky was going to give.

“OK, so we can all sense a lot of tension in this room. And although I’m going in a slightly unprofessional route, I feel that we all need to do this to ensure you are all OK, that is my job after all. So, who wants to go first?”

She looked between me and Bucky. Part of me wanted to get the confrontation out of the way, perhaps that would make things go quicker and we would get out of here sooner. But my fear held me back.

“No volunteers? Wow, that’s surprising. Okay. We’re going to do any exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what sort of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

I nodded.“Yes.”

“No.” Bucky answered at the same time.

“OK, it goes like this. Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?”

Shit, that was deep. There’s a million things I could think of that I wanted with Bucky. We used to talk about it all the time. He wanted security in knowing that I wanted a life with him, and I wanted the same, hoping that one day it would happen. Glancing at him, Bucky was slouched in the chair, staring at his hands folded together on his lap. It didn’t look like he was going to be saying anything soon, so I took the first step.

“Um...” I started, unsure how to word this.“I would want to take away any suffering Bucky has gone through, so that he could have a somewhat normal life, and didn’t have to force himself through things like this. No offence doctor. That way he wouldn’t have to feel pressured into opening up and he would tell me anything that was on his mind.”

“That’s a good start.” Raynor slowly said.“And it’s a very sweet sentiment, but it’s what you want, (Y/N).”

“That is what I want. All I want is for Bucky to be happy, I love him.”

“Again, very sweet, I know you care about him very much. But let’s try looking at it a different way. You want your miracle to be that James opens up more. That he lets you into the side of his life you don’t get to see in person.”

“I...I guess.”

“You feel left out of the equation, because James won’t express how he’s feeling?”

“Yeah, when you put it like that, that’s what I want. I want my boyfriend to be able to feel like he can tell me anything, no matter how gruesome, traumatic or even little it is.”

“Right. Glad we got there in the end. OK James, your turn.”

I watched in anticipation for Bucky to speak. What if I had messed things up? What if that was the opposite of what he wanted?

“My miracle would be...not having you involved in that side of things.”

He didn’t even look at me as he spoke. He also didn’t look phased by his answer. So his miracle would be to not have me know about a huge part of his life? He was a hero for god’s sake! Why was he shutting me out? What had I done to deserve this? Had I hurt him in some way that made him feel that he couldn’t talk to me anymore?

“What? Bucky, have I done something to upset you?”

“I just think it would be easier for both of us.”

“You know I’m always here for you, right? We’ve spoke about this before, I don’t understand why you’re only expressing this now.”

Raynor tried to get us back on track.“Alright you two, I think we need to dissect this-”

“I’m sorry doctor but I would like Bucky to elaborate more on this matter, because I’m not fully understanding.”

“What’s not to understand?” he finally looked at me, but I hated this expression. It was as if I had asked the stupidest question in the world.

“Bucky, why are you being like this? You used to tell me about everything, what’s changed?”

He didn’t answer. I just scoffed, hastily grabbing my handbag and coat.

“(Y/N), please sit down.” Raynor asked.

“I can’t. I can’t sit here and wait for an explanation that I’m not going to get. Just focus on the two heroes, I’ll find out about all of this never.”

I rushed out of the room, breathing heavily as I tried not to cry, but my eyes were already watering. Ignoring looks from people in the waiting room, I couldn’t stop myself from starting to cry. Although I had every reason to be upset that my boyfriend wasn’t communicating with me anymore, I also felt slightly guilty for just storming out of there. Maybe we would have resolved it.

“Miss, you OK?”

Oh, I did not want to deal with Walker right now. He would only piss me off.

“Do you need help? We can provide assistance if you need it.”

Although I had wanted to walk away, I knew I should have, my feet were already leading me towards him. I was embarrassed that I was still crying, but I tried to block that from my mind by now. He was leaning against a police car with his friend, who’s name I hadn’t bothered learning.

“You don’t look so good, shall we get a cop to drive you home?”

“Who do you think you are?!” I snapped.

“Well, I’m Captain America-”

“No, you’re someone who thinks they’re anything close to what Steve was. He didn’t go around introducing himself as Captain America, He didn’t care about the title. I understand you’re under a lot of pressure Walker, Steve has a huge legacy to live up to. But don’t you dare come waltzing in expecting those two amazing men to immediately work alongside you like nothing has changed.”

“You got all of that out of your system?”

My eyes widened at him.“Are you serious right now?”

“Look,” his friend butted in,“we just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get mixed up in this. We’re dealing with something major here, it could effect the whole world.”

“Sorry, but who are you?”

He rolled his eyes.“Come on man, how many times? It’s Battlestar.”

My face remained emotionless.

“Lemar Hoskins? You know, the new Captain America with his-”

“I don’t think she cares.” Walker explained.

“You think I don’t know anything about trying to save the world? My friends are part of the Avengers, my boyfriend fought against Thanos. He disappeared in the Blip and I was left by myself wondering if he would ever come back. I’ve been targeted, I’ve seen aliens close up. Nothing could effect me now.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve had to endure that.”

“Do you two just not listen to anyone but yourselves?”

“(Y/N), listen,” Walker dared to put his hand on my shoulder,“you’re a normal citizen like us. No super powers, no hidden strength, yet here you are with a super soldier that’s over a hundred years old! I mean, do the maths here, you could have walked away from all this danger. And yet, here you are, by yourself at a police station, whilst your boyfriend cares more about his ‘job’ than making sure you’re safe.”

That was it, the last straw. I slapped his hand off of me, preparing to punch him square in the face, when someone pulled me back.

“No (Y/N)!” Sam raised his voice as he made sure to distance me away from Walker. He quickly stood in between us.

“What did you do, Walker!?” Bucky quickly stormed over.“Did you touch her?!”

Sam was desperately trying to diffuse the situation, knowing that people could be watching.“Bucky, calm down.”

“Did he do anything to you?” Bucky asked me quietly, his hands cupping my face as he looked over me.

My heart raced at the gesture, forgetting for a second that I was upset with him. I shook my head with his hands still on me, and they slid down my arms, one wrapping around my waist to keep me close to him.

“I didn’t touch her Bucky, I was just trying to....you know what, it’s not even important. Can we talk, privately?”

“(Y/N) is staying.”

Walker sighed.“Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

“So what do you got?” Sam said.

“Well the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

Lemar spoke up.“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.” Walker added.

“Well, there are a lot of those all over the planet since the Blip.” Bucky pointed out.

“Hundreds probably.” I said.

“So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

Walker smirked.“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?”

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”

“No, we don’t know, Bucky.” Walker was agitated.“It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

Bucky had to push his buttons even more.“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

Sam came to stand between us and Walker.“Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorization you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

Sam and Bucky turned away, Bucky guiding me with him. Walker called after us.

“A word of advice, then. Stay the hell out of my way.”

I instantly became defensive.“What the hell is that supposed to mean-”

“It’s OK.” Bucky reassured me, making sure I didn’t go back. Frustrated that Walker got the last word, I hesitantly followed my boyfriend.

“Hold up,” Sam stopped us,“I think you two need a quick chat before we delve into anything else. You both know that this is something big, we don’t know what we’re fully dealing with yet or how to fix it. Before we do all of that, you two better resolve whatever happened back there. I’ll be waiting Buck.”

We both watched Sam walk away, unsure how to start this conversation. He clearly showed that he still cared for me back there, but should I still be worried that our relationship was headed in a rocky direction?

“You OK?”

“Honestly? No, not really.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Do you realise how much you hurt me back there? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t speak to me anymore. And about me not being involved; what do you think the last years have been like? I know everything, you’ve expressed so much to me, opened up about your past. Why has that suddenly changed?”

“Because we have a chance now. The world is...relatively back to normal. I got an opportunity to make sure you’re safer, keep all of these nightmares away from you, not pass on my torture to you.”

“Bucky...what have the past years been for? Nothing needs to change. Just because things are getting back to how they used to be, it doesn’t mean we need to forget about the past. If I don’t know what’s going on with you, how can I look after you? How can I help you?”

“You shouldn’t have to do this-”

“I already made that decision when I knew I wanted to be with you. But we can’t revert back to how it was Bucky, not after all the work and effort we put in.”

“I’m sorry. I really thought I could make everything better.”

I sighed, reaching out to hold his hand.“They already were. I know whatever you’ve got yourself into is big, but I’m here for you Bucky, I always will be.”

“I’m sorry again, I’ll make sure I keep opening up to you. That’s the least you deserve.”

I went on my tip toes to kiss him, still worried despite everything he had said. Bucky was still fragile, but now he was on another mission. I wasn’t sure if it was the best thing for him, something for him to focus on. Or it could send him in a spiral, and I wouldn’t know anything about it. I had to stay close to this mission, even if it meant I was in danger. Though what would change there? I had to keep an eye on him, I had to make sure he was OK. I loved him too much to let him slip back into the dark.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes one shot #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier one shot #winter soldier x reader #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #the falcon and the winter soldier

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girlmeetsliv3 · 3 years

Text

Cruel Liaisons

~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~

A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS

“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”

Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)

Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.

February 2nd, 2022

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.

“This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.

“Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’

YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.

“What news channel and around what time?”

“KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”

Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”

Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.

“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.

“Yes.” YN nods.

“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.

YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”

“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”

They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.

“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”

“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”

“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.

“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”

“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”

“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

“You never thought to ask?”

“No.”

Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.

“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”

The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.

“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”

It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.

“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.

Present

YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.

Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.

Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!

Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?

Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.

Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.

“Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.

Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”

“Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.

“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.

“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her. At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”

YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”

Evening of June 20th, 2021

Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.

“I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.

“I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.

“NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.

She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”

That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”

“Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”

The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.

“Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.

Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.

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kyojurouwu · 3 years

Text

han seojun model headcanons.

listen to never be like you by flume.

˗ˋˏ author’s note ˎˊ˗

here i am again. it’s headcanon + scenario without any set pronouns. imagine han seojun as a worldwide known model who loves making you (aka his assistant) lose your mind by being a handful. maybe just maybe he wants your attention on him 24/7 because that’s where he thrives.

the problem with han seojun does not lie in his work ethics. he is a professional. he goes along with the requests and gives his feedback. he is professional with designers and photographers. he knows how to handle himself in meetings. but anything beyond that…

at this point, you might as well be his glorified nanny. making sure he gets up on time, eats 3 meals a day and doesn’t start mischief with his friends.

after 2 years of working for him, you got the hang of it. sometimes it’s kinda scary how many steps ahead you are. before he even asks for something you shove it in his hand and continue on your way.

also if you need to step up your game, you got the perfect blackmail opportunity - his sweet mom and his sister. both for different reasons. seojun is model son, sweet and kind and protective - he will do anything to keep it that way. with his sister it’s different, he just really doesn’t want her to get her hands on anything embarrassing because she would sell it to tabloids without hesitation if he messed up.

when you started you were fresh out of college, completely unprepared to deal with any of this. seojun didn’t make it any easier, he was kind of feeling you out. testing if you are taking this seriously or just want to further your own agenda. he can’t trust easily.

soon he realizes that you simply enjoy fashion and working as an assistant for a model is as close as you could get. and you are scarily devoted to it. you almost got hit by a car when you ran back with his coffee for which he gave you an impossible time limit. (and you weren’t going to lose goddamnit, you were about to show him!)

he never felt this bad in his life. you could’ve gotten seriously injured! he stopped giving you these tasks and instead opts for going with you. (that gets you tons of stares but seojun just shrugs and smiles “can’t blame them for looking, right?” cue your eye-roll)

he has no sense of personal space and is kind of everywhere? his presence fills the room to the point that it gets suffocating. people literally swoon as he walks by.

you never want to let him into your office because he walks around and checks out everything. he picks things up and never places them back right.

every day when you tell him about his schedule he stares super intently but doesn’t actually listen. he is sort of checking your outfit, is that necklace new? did you get a haircut? he does the same thing when you work and he is free. he sits in the same room as you and stares, basking in your presence like a happy cat. (it does get unnerving and you try to shoo him away but he gives you a lazy smirk, head propped on his fist “I’m having fun here though.”)

sometimes when you need to fly around the world for his photoshoots or other model gigs he gets cold and that mellows him out a bit. it’s easy to spot for you when he gets sick. he doesn’t tease as much but keeps close to you. and god forbid if you reach to touch his cheeks and forehead and hold his face for a bit. he was so jetlagged once that he actually closed his eyes and nuzzled closer. (needless to say, just the memory makes his face flush and he screamed into his pillow afterwards)

because you have to spend so much time together even when he is sick, it’s inevitable for you to not get sick as well and he goes into full-on mother hen mode. “take a day off today, drink this and take these so your fever goes down. call me if it gets worse.” if he has time he drops you home himself because he knows you would just go by bus and suffer. and if he doesn’t have time, he makes the time. he comes to the meeting with some prestigious brand 30 minutes later and just says “sorry it was an emergency.” doesn’t elaborate at all. (you get really confused when you look through his schedule later and see he did NOT have time)

when taking breaks between photo shoots he always sits next to you and dozes off. head on your shoulder even if it’s super uncomfortable for his tall frame. make-up stylists gush over you two constantly, they notice how his eyes follow your movements in the mirror when you are checking if you have enough time and making appointments while he gets make-up done.

i know it’s cliche, but the other model can’t make it, we need a plan. look at that. the assistant could work, you got the chemistry. let’s gooo. you could not be more out of your element even if you tried. seojun tries to take your mind off things, jokes around with you, but nothing works because he’s SO CLOSE. his annoyingly perfect face is right THERE. maybe, just maybe you let it slip. “i think i’m gonna have a heart attack.” and he could not look more smug afterwards. you’re ready to run for it, but he holds your hand and puts it on his chest. “me too.” and flash. the picture is taken and everyone is ecstatic.

seojun emails you the pictures with a “it suited you. wear it again, just for me?” and you are like.. what?? there is a box on your desk with the outfit from the photoshoot and a note asking you out for a date.

it all sounds super smooth and swoon-worthy but seojun is losing his mind over it. checking his phone every three seconds, making a track in his super expensive persian carpet from walking back and forth for an hour.

fistbumps the air when he gets a yes and does a little victory dance. but right after starts agonizing over what to wear. it’s a never-ending cycle with him.

#grown up seojun is a lil more chic but still the softest boy inside #true beauty #true beauty kdrama #true beauty tvn #true beauty webtoon #true beauty han seojun #true beauty seojun #han seojun #hwang inyeop #true beauty writings #moon writes to the stars #true beauty reader insert #han seojun x reader #han seojoon #true beauty headcanon

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parkers-gal · 3 years

Note

you dont have to write this if youre not comfortable doing it, but could you do something where the reader is toms girlfriend and is diagonsed with a brain tumor and starts forgetting things, like she suddenly cant remember his family anymore or that toms spider-man?

wc: 1.4k words - please READ WITH CAUTION. it's heavy tw // brain tumors, diseases, MRI's, crying, angst

requests are open

—

“And I’m telling you there’s something obviously wrong with her.” Tom was just on the edge of yelling at the doctor. You were sitting on the medical bed in the lonesome room.

One month of Tom being home was enough time for him to realize you were not the same person you were when he left for filming. You were quiet, more conserved, and a bit more curious than you normally were. But not in the sense that you were inquisitive about new things. No, you were forgetting what you already knew to be true.

“Sir, we just asked her a series of questions and she’s showing no signs of change.”

“Then that’s not enough, goddammit!” His fist slams down on the counter, startling everyone in the room.

“Please refrain from raising your voice, sir.”

“I won’t refrain from doing anything until you keep running more tests. Try- try something different if you’re not getting anywhere with these ones!”

The man, his tag reading Dr. Goldstein, offered a tense smile. He whispered something to Tom, something out of your earshot, and he nodded.

“I’ll be right back, okay baby?” He leaned close to your ear, leaving a gentle kiss under the lobe while you nodded. His fingers slipped from yours and suddenly you were alone in the room.

Goldstein brought Tom into a separate medical room, and Tom sat in one of the chairs provided while the doctor logged himself into the company database.

“Can you explain what you’ve been noticing? Your reason for being here?”

“She’s having a lot of headaches.” The doctor hummed, a sign for Tom to elaborate. He did. “She- she told me to bring home extra medicine but the headaches got so bad she had to call in sick for work. About three days later she was throwing up frequently. We took her to the local doctor but they said it was a stomach bug and it would go away.”

“And it didn’t?” Tom shook his head. “Is that all? Has she had any seizures?”

“No.”

“Does anyone in her family have a history of having seizures?”

“Not that I know of.” Goldstein looked at Tom through the tops of his glasses, eyebrows raised as he wrote all the information down.

“Has she had any memory loss, fatigue or sleeping problems?”

“Yeah, sleeping problems were big with the headaches. She- uh… she’s been forgetting things a lot easier now, too.”

“Do you know any of the things she’s forgotten? Anything major, that is.”

Tom scratched the back of his neck in thought. “I mean… she forgot her phone password once. A few hair appointments maybe, or a dinner reservation. I think the big one was when she forgot how to drive.”

“She forgot how to drive?”

“Not entirely, just a couple steps.”

The doctor clicked his tongue. It wasn’t calming Tom’s nerves. You, however, were swinging your legs back and forth as you waited patiently for someone to return. A nurse had come in to give you some water, which you gratefully accepted. You weren’t sure what was taking so long for Tom to get back; you were the one sick, afterall.

“We’ll have to run a few tests just to confirm anything, first. Can you make an appointment with the front desk?”

Tom nods, standing as the man leads him out of this room and into the one with you.

“Hey,” He breathes out. “You okay?” You nod, he hums with a small smile.

“Everything okay?” He nods.

“We’ll have to come back, though.” You frown but nod nonetheless.

Medical dresses reminded you of movies that would leave you crying for a happier ending. You felt like you were the movie, a camera in your face while family members cried because of the news.

You had just gotten an MRI-scan. Magnetic resonance imaging, as the doctor had put it. They explained everything to you in such detail that the information had flown right over your head. You drowned everything out, the only thing keeping you grounded being Tom and his voice.

You were still wearing the dress as the doctor came back in forty minutes later with his head hung low and your verdict on the slip of paper.

“Well?” Tom’s voice was eager, and not in a positive way. His hand was holding yours tightly as his nerves rose to an all time high.

Dr. Goldstein sighed as he sat in his rolling chair. “It’s called neurofibromatosis. It’s a tumor located in the prefrontal lobe. It’s a hereditary disease that can last a lifetime.” Tom physically deflates at the news. A tear slips from your eyes, but the doctor keeps going. “Though we just performed the biopsy, we can already tell it’s spread to the temporal lobe. We can predict it’s probably going to affect your spinal cord and your central nervous system.”

“Can… can it be cured?” Tom was so hesitant, so afraid he’d lose the one stable thing in his life. He was afraid of losing you, watching you slip through his fingers while he tried to hold on, grasp as much of you as he could. What he didn’t want to admit, though, was that you were already slipping, and his hands were already losing grip.

“No. But treatment can help prevent the spread.”

“Am I going to die?” Your shrill, quiet voice cuts the tension, asking the question everybody was afraid to know the answer to.

“The average life expectancy of a patient with your tumor is eight years.” He clicks his tongue and Tom scoffs.

“Eight years? Of what, chemo?”

“Sir, there’s no way to tell if it’s permanent or not. If the treatment goes well, it could die out without killing her. You’re lucky you’re still in the early stages.”

The drive home was quiet. You weren’t reacting the way Tom wanted you to. You were acting normal, and it killed him inside that you weren’t batting an eye or pointing out the elephant in the room.

“Can we go bowling tomorrow?”

“I have work tomorrow.” Tom sighs as he grips the steering wheel harder.

“Work…?” You look at him expectantly. He blinks

“We’re filming Spider-man 3 for the next five months.” He tells you almost irritatingly, as if he expects you to know his schedule better than himself. And you do. But not anymore.

“You’re an actor?”

When he pulls up to the driveway, he parks the car and looks at you strangely, as if a piece of his soul just washed away, lost to never be found again. He looks as if he’s about to cry.

“Sorry if you don’t like talking about work,” You say it defensively. “I just didn’t know you were an actor.”

“Love….” He sits back defeatedly, shoulders sagging. “Maybe Harry can take you bowling tomorrow instead. I need to talk to Jon about something.”

“Harry…?” You trail off as if he’ll fill in the blank to who this person is. Before he opens the car door, he stops to look at you again.

“My brother?” He’s soft as he tries to see if you’ll remember him. You don’t. “You don’t remember my brothers?”

“You have multiple?” The two of you step out of the car as you head inside.

“I have three.”

“I wish I knew them all.” Tom chokes on air.

“Y/N, you do know them.”

You watch as Tom’s figure nearly deflates again, and you pout. “I’m sorry.” He turns around hastily.

“For what?”

“I just… it feels like I’m not trying hard enough.”

“Baby… ” He pulls you into his chest as you gasp out a cry, sucking in a breath as new tears fall. Tom cries too, gripping you tightly as the salty waters flow out of the rivers, breaking the dams and flooding all around it.

“I’m so-” You whisper out between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” He’s trying not to cry too loudly, too harshly. “‘S Not your fault.”

He feels you nod against him, and for the first time in weeks, he feels as if he finally has a grip on you again, as if he can pull you out of the drowning waters, let you come up for air before another wave crashes over your helpless body. For the first time in weeks, he feels like you might actually be his Y/N again. But you’re not, because as soon as you’re in his grip, he loses you again.

He just doesn’t want to see what happens when he loses his grip for good.

hello here’s part two <3

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