Tumgik
#since you’ve looked through all those tags you deserve to know who killed him…….
thatonegeekygirl · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
Murder On the Puppet History Set
or
Ryan Tries to Solve a Confounding Crime While Estranged Producer Shane Madej and The Prof Hang Out and Are Entirely Unhelpful
156 notes · View notes
munsons-hellfire · 1 month
Text
Forever Together 2 | Ploy!Bat Boys
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SUMMARY: You struggle to come to terms with the battle against Hybern. But Feyre’s pregnancy looms over everyone. And while everyone is worried about her and the babe with wings your mates are worried about you and the state you’ve been left in.
PAIRINGS: Bat Boys x Reader
CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of trauma, mentions of war, mentions of death, lying, the inner circle, cliff hanger
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This post is out a little late, mainly because I couldn't post it while I was at work as I did not have my laptop. It's looking like this is turning into a series if I can't get everything finished in part 3. I really don't want to rush it so it might be turning into a series. If you wish to be tagged in the next part let me know in the comments.
WORD COUNT: 2.7K
Tumblr media
Feyre is pregnant. You were happy for her and Ryder, you knew they deserved it after all the trouble they’d gone through just to be with each other. Since the war had ended you and your mates had not yet accepted the bond fully. Cassian and Azriel were on missions and you and Rhysand were working hard with the other High Lords to come to an agreement on the treaty. Right now that was the least of your concerns.
You were curled up on Rhysand’s lap, your head rested on his chest while his arms were draped around your body. Cassian and Azriel had found it hard to keep their eyes off their mates. It had been hard to separate you from Rhy’s side as of late. Though the High Lord wasn’t complaining. Everyone was in the room in your home that Rhys had built after the war. It was nice to be able to come home to the three males. Feyre and Ryder had a home built right next to yours.
Right now they were discussing whether they should tell Lucien about his true heritage. You didn’t agree with them in the slightest, and their reasoning for not wanting to tell him was starting to anger you. You knew you were pushing it down the bond, you knew that Rhys, Cass, and Az could feel everything you were sending them. It wasn’t fair to Lucien to be kept in the dark about who his father really was.
You felt differently towards this whole conversation, you wanted to know what it was like to truly have a brother. And Lucien was your brother, he was your half-brother; but still he was blood nonetheless. And you knew he deserved to know. You had disliked how they all had treated him in the aftermath of what Hybern had done to Nesta and Elain. You knew he wasn’t in the right, but he didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting.
You felt an unbearable headache coming on, you’d have to stop at Madja to see if she’d have anything for the pain, and maybe you’d get a sleeping tonic to hopefully allow you to at least get one peaceful sleep without nightmares. The constant arguing was starting to get on your nerves. Finally you had enough and stood up from Rhy’s lap. You already missed his warmth and wanted to crawl back into his lap.
”Are you ok, love?” Azriel questioned, his brow lifted as he leaned forward in his seat next to Cassian. His hazel eyes were glued to you. There was a trace of worry in his features.
”This isn’t right.” You mumbled, walking to the center of the room. You wrapped your arms around your body as all eyes were now on you. “I don’t think this should be kept from him.”
”Y/N, Lucien is in the human lands, one secret won’t hurt him.” Rhy’s soft voice swam through your pointed ears. Shock fell upon your features as you stared at your mate.
”No, I won’t have it.” You glared at him, at the male who had made you his High Lady.
”Why? Why are you so eager to tell that male?” Amren asked, her eyes blazing brightly as she stared at you.
”Because he deserves to know his father.” You paused, closing your mouth. You were trying so hard to hold back the tears but waves were crashing into you like you weren’t made of stone. “Because I deserve a brother who loves me, and doesn’t treat me like shit, one who didn’t get my mother killed. I deserve better than those Illyrian bastards I was forced to call brothers. Most importantly, Lucien deserves a family who loves him for him and not who he sided with.”
The hurt was evident in your voice as you spoke to them. You couldn’t stand it anymore. All their eyes on you. Taking a deep breath in to calm yourself, then you released it. Turning away from them you quickly walked out of the room heading to your shared room with Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel. All of whom had exchanged a concerned look with each other.
”I think it’s best if we come back to this matter on a later day.” Rhys said, as he stood from his chair and walked out of the living room heading down the hallway. Cassian and Azriel would see to it that everyone left and then they’d join you and Rhys.
When you made it to the bedroom you collapsed into the bed and pulled the covers over your head. You didn’t understand why this was something that needed to be discussed. Lucien deserved to know that Helion was his father, that you were his half-sister. You deserved so much and so did he. You pressed your eyes closed tightly when you heard the door open. You weren’t in the mood to talk to any of them tonight, not while the emotions were still fresh in your mind.
You felt Rhys press his body into you, his arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you and the cover closer to him. His chin rested on top of your hair, slowly you started to remove the cover from the top half of your body. Just as Cassian and Azriel walked into the room. You felt the bed dip again. Cassian was on the other side of you and Azriel was behind Rhys.
Since coming home from the war you had curled up next to Rhys at night, while Cassian and Azriel would often switch which side of the bed they slept on. Rhy’s violet eyes found yours, he pulled his hand up and rested it on your cheek.
“Do you want to talk about whatever is bothering you darling?” Rhys asked, his voice so soft. You shook your head, Rhys’ hand moving with your movement.
“Not tonight, I-I can’t.” Your lips were trembling as more fresh tears fell down your face.
“We’ll talk about it when you're ready sweetheart.” Cassian was the next to speak, he nudged his head into your neck and breathed in your sweet scent.
“Get some sleep, love.” Azriel was the next to speak. You once again found yourself nodding your head. It was difficult to come up with the words right now. You snuggled up between your three mates and eventually sleep found you but it wasn’t a dreamless sleep like you’d hoped for.
They were surrounding you, there was nowhere to go. And you’d be forced with only one option, kill them. They were now a fading memory, fighting on the losing side. You were covered in blood, your hair was caked with that blood and dirt. Your fingers tightened around your sword, knuckles turning white from the grip. Rhys had reached out to you via mind informing you that Cassian had been injured.
“Well… look at you.” The male whom you thought was your father spoke to you. “You think you’re tough and strong now.” He wasn’t your father, Helion was. Though the other males were still your half-brothers.
“I have nothing to prove to you.” Your voice was venomous as the words dripped from your lips. The  male glanced at your brothers. A hideous laugh escaped his mouth, then he lifted his blade in the air and ran towards you. Your brothers stood still, while your own blade came in contact with the male’s sword.
Grunts escaped from you as you fought him off. Your power was itching to break free. It tingles inside you. You ignored it just as the sword cut your shoulder. A wince escaped you and the males laughed loudly, but that was enough for you to lose all control you had left. Suddenly you blacked out, when you  came to you were on your knees. Sword next to you as you breathed heavily. They were no more.
But then everything changed, you were in front of your mates. Sad looks crossed their faces. They were kneeling on the ground. Two Hybern soldiers held onto you. Hybern himself stood behind your mates.
“Such a pity you had to be mated to these three batards.” Hybern’s words slammed into you, constricting your lungs.
“No, please. Don’t touch them.” You cried out.
But the words didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how much you begged him. You felt your heart stop when you no longer felt them through the bond.
“No! No!” You pulled yourself out of the bed, running to the bathroom and hurling the contents of your dinner up. You calmed slightly when you felt their welcoming presence. A few of Az’s shadows curled around your body helping you cool down. Sweat covered you entirely, you could feel their concern through the bond. But you knew they could feel your fear.
“What was it, love?” Azriel’s voice was close to your ears. Cassian had his hands wrapped around your hair keeping it from falling into your face while you continued to hurl up the rest of your dinner. Rhys and Az placed a hand on you, both rubbing soothing circles on your back. Since returning from the war there had been a lot of nights like this. But Ryder was the only one who truly knew about your nightmares.
“Bad dream.” You whispered when the hurling finally stopped.
“Please tell us what you saw.” Cassian was the one to speak this time. But you couldn’t speak it into existence.
“Show me darling, only if you can.” Rhys said, speaking in your mind. So you lowered your shield and allowed Rhysand to see what you had dreamed tonight. It had been the same, but this was the first night you had dreamt a nightmare where your mates died. “Can I show Cass and Az?”
“Yes.” You replied back.
You moved to the floor, the shadows that had left their master followed you and continued to glide around your body. You kept your eyes closed, Rhys picked you up from the bathroom floor and carried you back to the bed. Azriel and Cassian followed behind you and him. It was quiet, you assumed that the males were talking to each other, trying to figure out what to do. How to handle your trauma. These nightmares were constant, never ending. You never caught a break, always losing sleep because of the nightmares.
The four of you settled into the bed in the same position you’d been in before you’d woken up. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, tears starting to fall from your eyes.
“There is nothing to apologize for, love.” Azriel whispered, he had his chin resting on Rhysand’s shoulder, and his hazel eyes were on you. His shadows moved around until they eventually covered the four of you. They were protecting you and your mates.
“It’s okay to feel this way. You have gone through so much, and you will get through this.” Cassian nuzzled his head into your neck, he moved his hand to rest on your waist and gently began to move his finger in a circle, a motion he knew calmed you down.
“You almost lost Cassian, you and Az both. You all experienced my death, and I can never take back what I did. I truly am sorry for putting you three through that. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving any of you again.” Rhys made the declaration clear to his mates. “I love you all equally, and I promise we will get through this together. We’ll help you with your nightmares.”
You nodded in understanding “I wish I didn't kill them. I hate that they are responsible for my mother’s death, but I regret killing them.” You paused trying to think of what to say next, you knew that they’d seen it. How you had acted in the nightmare when you killed them was exactly what had happened and even after all these months after the war it still haunted you.
“You did what you had to.” Azriel said.
“I blacked out. I panicked. I didn’t think I could do that, I didn’t even mean to kill them. It just happened and I know that’s probably not an excuse but that’s what happened. Next thing I knew Helion was in front of me and then Rhys was gone and I couldn’t feel him.”
Rhys tightened his arms around you, it still felt like a dream. It still felt like Rhys and Cass weren’t here and it was just you, and Azriel, and his shadows. Since you had lost your wings nothing was falling into place the way you thought it would and right now it really didn’t seem real.
“It’s real, Cass and I are real.” His smooth voice ran through your ears. You only gave a brief nod. Sleep was starting to fall over you again. But you didn’t know how long you would get before the nightmares returned.
The sun shined brightly in your shared room. But you were quickly disappointed when you discovered none of your mates were in the bed with you. Throwing the covers off your body you stood to quickly change into comfortable clothes rather than going for a dress. Being the High Lady of the Night Court was the least of your worries right now. You opened the door and started to traverse down the hallway, voices were coming from the living room.
You could hear Rhys talking, though you were unsure of who he was talking to. Slowly you came to a stop and listened in on the conversation. You could tell that Cass and Az were in the room as well. You assumed judging by the hushed whispers that everyone else was included in the conversation but you. Which only meant one thing, they were discussing Lucien without you.
“Y/N is going to be beyond angry when she finds out that we voted without her.” It was Feyre’s voice that you hear break through Rhys’s comment.
“I know, but right now I don’t think it’s a great idea for Lucien to know. Y/N needs time to process the events of the war and she needs time to focus on the powers that she received from Helion. Lucien would be an added distraction on top of all of that.” Rhysand said.
They were going to keep this from you. A secret. One of many you assumed. You didn’t want to hear anymore of this. You stepped around the corner and looked at everyone in the room. Rhysand had his back to you.
“You voted not to tell him?” The hurt was evident in your voice. Cassian and Azriel were quick to stand up as Rhysand turned towards you. A look of shock on his face, clearly he had not expected you to be awake. “I woke up to an empty bed, one without my mates. So I came searching only to discover that you thought it was best that I didn’t have an added distraction. What in your right mind thought that was best for me? He’s my brother, he deserves to know.” The anger flared in your body and it was evident in the way that your power had started to show.
The light illuminates your body, some have to look away. “I thought it was best! Y/N. Cass and Az didn’t have a say in the matter.”
You shook your head. “I can’t believe you, Rhys. This is a new low even for you. Keeping that from him and Helion would only damage my relationship with both males. Did you even stop to think about that, about what might happen if they found out, if they found out that I lied to them.”
“I-”
“No. That’s not fair. Not fair to them and not fair to me.”
Before he could get another word in you winnowed away. It was the only thing you’d really learned to get the hang of after discovering what powers you’d received from your father. A door opened, before anything came out of your mouth you collapsed into the arms of the male that is your brother.
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Lucien questioned, eyes on you.
“You’re my brother.” The shock was so clear on his face, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore.
348 notes · View notes
anna-hawk · 24 days
Text
Dexterity
Frank Castle x F!Reader
Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.
Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k
Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk
Always time for Coffee series
Tumblr media
⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️
A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.
Tumblr media
Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.
You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be. 
Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.
The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.
You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.
As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.
Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.
That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.
You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.
He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.
“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.
“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.
You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck. 
“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.
You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.
“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.
“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.
“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.
“Can never refuse your coffee.”
You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”
You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.
“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.
“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.
You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.
“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”
“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.
“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.
“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone. 
That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.
“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”
You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.
“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.
You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.
“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.
You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.
“Is that a no?”
Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.
“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.
“‘m not playin', Baby.”
To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.
You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.
“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.
You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.
“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”
You say nothing, you can’t right now.
Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.
“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”
You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.
“You,” you breathe softly.
His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.
“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”
You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.
“Something… like… that…”
“Something?”
“Finger-fucking… me.”
He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.
“Something like that?”
Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.
The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.
Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.
“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.
Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.
“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”
“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.
“Yes!” you hiss, elated.
But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.
“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.
Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.
Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”
“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.
As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.
“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.
You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.
“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.
“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.
Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”
You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.
“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.
Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.
“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”
“But-”
“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.
You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.
“So… coffee?”
You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.
“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”
You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.
You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.
“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.
“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.
You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.
“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.
It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.
“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.
“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.
Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”
He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.
You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.
Tumblr media
230 notes · View notes
sterek-is-eternal · 2 years
Note
omg hello i just saw your fics recs and all of them look so good so thank you can’t wait to read them! and on that note, what’s the angstiest sterek fic you’ve ever read? maybe without happy ending? 👀 but with happy ending is cool too!
Hey, I’m so glad that you liked it!
Angst without happy ending? omg… First of all, I sending you a virtual hug.
I don’t read much fics like that. Those are the angstiest I know but most of them with happy ending. Please always read tags and author warnings because those fics deal with rape, depresia, slavery, torture or some heavy staff that can be trigger for someone.
1. This is the first fic that was on my mind. I would say ending is bitter-sweet, one that give hope. Stiles died but Derek resurrected him. Stiles is different and not happy. They both trying to find the way to be happy again. I really love it.
Won't Do Me No Good Washing in the River by DevilDoll, Jinxy, Rahciach 6k
"Remember, Derek: you never get back what you lost." 
2. Exactly what summary says. Derek was dating Stiles when Nogitsune happend.
Sing Me to Sleep by Dexterous_Sinistrous 6k
What if Derek and Stiles were dating when the Nogitsune came along?
What if Derek didn't know if Stiles was really Stiles when they were together?
What if the Nogitsune didn't want to give Derek back to Stiles?
Or: Rewrite of Season 3B where Derek and Stiles are dating.
3. This one hurt but in a good way. Soulmate AU with Stiles being in coma. They bodyswap for one day.
I'm Lost In You by matildajones 13k
Stiles wakes up in his soulmate's body, on his twenty-second birthday, with blurry memories of the past year. Derek doesn't wake up at all.
4. Royalty AU. Stiles is force to work for Gerard.
You're Just An Empty Cage Boy (If You Kill The Bird) by cirquedusoleil 26k
Stiles can't remember the last time he's spoken.
5. Stiles is infertile and trying to get divorce with Derek.
All Derek Ever Wanted by Dexterous_Sinistrous 7k
Stiles knew Derek always wanted a big family. And, for the longest time, he thought he'd be the one to give it to him. Life, devastatingly, has other plans.
Prompt: "I've been thinking about omega stiles n alpha derek. They're trying to hav a baby. But one day stiles go to the doc, n he imply that stiles can't get pregnant. Stiles keep it secret and try to make derek divorce him."
6. Stiles is a necromancer who resurrect Laura but it cost him his health. Reading as Stiles slowely fading away is just pure hurt.
You Only Live Once...or Twice by WonderWolf 33k
“Anything,” Derek’s eyes are determined, boring into Stiles’.
Stiles huffs a laugh, “Careful there, big guy. Don’t want to be promising anything to every necromancer you meet. Some might ask for your soul or someth—”
“I’ll give you my soul to bring her back,” Derek says, his voice steady and strong with resolve, “if that’s what you want.”
Stiles’ mouth gapes open for a moment before his brain kicks into gear and he stutters out, “N-no, I don’t ask for that. I only ask for money.”
(Or the one in which Stiles is a necromancer who needs help stopping a rogue alpha and Derek is the solution, but at what cost?)
7. This is a very popular one (as it deserve to be). Story through Sheriff eyes about Stiles being raped.
Promise You'll Look After Him by DiscontentedWinter 10k
Sheriff Stilinski is used to dealing with victims of violent crime. He knows how to approach kids who've been beaten and sexually assaulted.
Except this time it's his son.
It's Stiles.
8. It’s a second part of a series. Derek is writing a book about Stiles and he is describing him in a very bad way (he didn’t mean it though).
how this one ends. by standinginanicedress 49k / Wayback Machine
“And Stiles,” he's addressed directly for the first time since this whole thing started, and when all eyes land on him this time, he just squeezes Derek's hand and squares his shoulders. He can act like this doesn't bother him. Derek can do it, and Derek's here. He'll be okay. “...how does it feel to know that millions upon millions of people are going to read intimate, private details about your life with Derek?”
“It doesn't bother me,” Stiles says with a shrug, going for nonchalant and feeling like he's doing it pretty well. “I knew what I was getting into. Besides – everyone wants Derek Hale to write about them, right?”
9. Sexual slavery AU. Stiles is a present for Laura’s son.
All The Way To You by AgnesBlue 14k
“Can you make a stop at Beacon Rock? It’s a little town close by, maybe forty miles away from where you are.” He’s instantly irritated. “Why?” “I need you to pick up a present I got for Mason,” Laura says.
AU in which Derek is returning to Beacon Hills after years of being away. Laura calls him while he's on the road, asking him to make a stop to pick up an omega she's purchased as her son's gift.
10. War between werewolves and humans. Stiles is capture by Derek’s pack and made Derek’s slave.
Enemy Lines by qhuinn (tekla) 149k
This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.
Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.
Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.
23 notes · View notes
malleux · 4 years
Note
PART THREE PART THREE PART THREE
Tumblr media
spell [3]. | corpse husband
part one ; part two
-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader
-> Genre: Fluff
-> Warnings: Anxiety, Self Doubt, Cursing, Hate Comments
-> A/N: here’s the long awaited part three! it’s definitely longer than the last chapters, but genuinely thank you all for 300 followers in literally 4 days lol. also, i wrote this under the small assumption that corpse’s main love language is physical touch!
corpse husband taglist is closed!
Tumblr media
You didn’t realize that it was possible to shake so much. You were practically panicking- just from standing in front of an apartment door, ready to knock and meet the man who changed your life.
You’d woken up this morning bright and early. The Facetime call was still on with Corpse and small snores could be heard from his line. You had prayed that he’d gotten at least more than an hour, but doubted it as you hung up and sent a message about when you’d be leaving.
Corpse soon messaged back saying that he was awake as you finally finished packing- you’d stopped last night when he called- so you got in your car and drove the two hours it took to get to San Diego.
So now you stood in front of his apartment, practically trembling. Why you were so anxious, you didn’t know. You’d been talking to him for how long now? And it was never awkward.
But things could easily change when you met him in real life, couldn’t they?
You shook those thoughts out of your head and mustered up enough courage to knock on Corpse’s door, already becoming out of breath from such a simple gesture.
A crash sounded from in the apartment, followed by a small ‘fuck’ that made your heart flip. Soon after, the door opened and you looked up, finally coming eye to eye with him. You couldn’t help the grin that stretched across your face, mirroring his own as he smiled at you as well.
“Hi.” You internally smacked yourself for not saying more, but that’s truly all that could come out of your mouth at the moment.
“Hey. You’re uh- you’re so much prettier in real life.” Corpse responded, looking nearly everywhere but you.
You flushed. “And you’re super attractive, but I already suspected that.”
You could tell he was taken aback by your compliment because he suddenly became even more shy, silently moving out of the doorway and gesturing for you to enter.
“I’m going to film again with everyone in a few minutes, but first I can show you my bedroom so you can make yourself comfortable.” Corpse said after he closed the door. “You can sleep in there and I’ll stay on the couch-“
“Absolutely not.” You interjected, “I’m not kicking you out of your bed.”
“But you’re the guest and I’m not about to let you sleep on my couch.”
“And you’re the owner of this apartment and I’m not going to take over your space like that. I’m sleeping on the couch.”
Corpse groaned and reached his arm out towards you. You thought he was going to just shove your shoulder away for being stubborn, but instead he wrapped his arm completely around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as a hug. You grinned and turned, giving him a full hug and resting your cheek against his chest as his chin laid on your head.
“I’m for real glad you came to visit.” He murmured into your hair, squeezing you a bit tighter before letting go. “Do you wanna stream with me tonight or just chill and watch?”
꧁꧂
“Corpse is streaming Among Us again with Sean, Felix, Rae, Sykkuno, Dave, and Leslie!”
“Where’s Y/N? I miss #CorpseY/N !!”
Twitter was truly your go-to platform when you were bored. You’d been scrolling on it for about thirty minutes now, laying on a small couch that Corpse had in his gaming room.
The man himself was sitting across the room at his desk, talking loudly as he defended himself from being accused as Imposter.
You continued to scroll, feeling a little anxious that somehow Corpse just magically knew that you were looking through your ship tag with him. These were your only worried thoughts until you went past your first… unsavory comment of the day.
“Y/N isn’t playing with them again today. Maybe she finally got the hint that they don’t want her around.”
You rolled your eyes and ignored it, but couldn’t help the rather loud sigh that escaped your lips.
“Hey, guys, I’m going to mute the mic for a second. Everything’s good, don’t worry.” Corpse said into his mic before turning around and facing you. “Is everything okay?”
Turning the phone off and laying it on your chest, you contemplated telling Corpse the truth. He’d just worry about you and you didn’t want that. But he already was worried about you- he’d muted Among Us just to check on you.
“Why are people so mean to others?”
Corpse studied you for a minute before patting his lap. “Come here.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“You're excused. Now come here.”
You stood up and cautiously walked towards the man, who sat before you expectantly. He playfully rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his lap sideways. Your back rested against one arm of his gaming chair while your legs draped across the other.
Corpse had one arm reaching around your back, placing his fingers on the keyboard while the other rested on top of your knees, grabbing the computer mouse. You laid your head on Corpse’s shoulder, resting in the crook of his neck.
“It’s in that shipping hashtag, isn’t it? I swear- whoever says that shit about you is dead wrong. Tell me if it gets worse, I’ll put them back in their fucking place. Nobody gets to decide who I’m with or who’s worthy of me.”
You only nodded and closed your eyes, breathing in Corpse’s cologne as he unmuted his mic once more to defend his honor, much like he was ready to defend you.
꧁꧂
Your body ached.
As you had argued your first day with Corpse, you’d been sleeping on his couch for four days now. The first night was okay- his couch was rather comfortable, but it didn’t compare to a bed. Now, your back, shoulders, and neck were killing you.
Every day, 7am would roll around and you would wake up, the soreness preventing you from sleeping in longer.
Usually, you would go into Corpse’s room and talk to him as he messed around on his laptop while sitting in his bed, but today when you entered, he was finally sleeping. It was the first time you’d seen him rest since you’d arrived and you quietly left, not wanting to disturb his much-needed sleep.
You made your way to his small kitchen, pulling out the few groceries that he had in his refrigerator to make breakfast.
Corpse often ate fast foods and takeout, and apologized earlier in the week for not having much to eat. You reassured him that it was okay- that him just letting you visit was enough- and now, you were determined to make it up to him with the best breakfast in bed ever.
You were halfway through making breakfast when the soft thump of feet echoed in the doorway before a chin planted itself on your shoulder.
“Whatcha cookin?” You practically shuddered at Corpse’s morning voice before suddenly gasping and shoving him out of the kitchen.
“No! No!” You pushed him back to his room, “Stay! Go back to bed, now!”
Right as you turned to go back to the kitchen, Corpse caught your wrist and pulled you down onto the bed with him. You practically squealed as you fell, making him laugh.
“Why? What’s going on?” He turned to face you with a teasing smile.
“I was making you breakfast in bed! I was gonna surprise you when you woke up, but you ruined it.” You pouted.
“Aw, poor baby.” His hand reached up and brushed a stray hair out of your face before he traced down your jawline, reaching your chin and using his finger to tilt it up. “I think I’ve got a better surprise, though.”
You quirked an eyebrow, but before you could say anything his lips were on yours. Your heart stopped, but you almost immediately melted into his kiss, bringing your own hand up to cup his cheek while his moved to rest on your waist.
Corpse soon propped himself up on his elbow, never once leaving your lips- just deepening the kiss. He smiled and gave you a few more pecks before finally pulling away and looking at you in adoration.
“Those little hate comments? They’re wrong. If anything, I don’t deserve you. You’ve still got me under a little spell and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Corpse, you deserve the world and I’d be honored to be the one to give it to you.”
“God, you’re perfect for me.”
You couldn’t say anything else. You could only lay beneath him, admiring the man who was now yours. Corpse leaned down again to capture you in another kiss, but you suddenly jerked away before you could lose yourself again.
“Shit, the pancakes!”
┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒
spell taglist: @tanchosanke @paoisabelll @save-the-sky @yukinesekki98 @stephn-prkr @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s @lustypielita @bi-andready-tocry @coruscaret
corpse taglist: @namjoons-crabssss @lookingforaplacetosleep @teenloves @princess00wifi @pillowjj @nvm-idgaf @creativedogs @wildflowerwhore @chillininahottub-withaghost @whyisquill @holosexualunicorn7000 @ourheavenlyemotions @corbins-kinda-smart @harryhighkey @sokkaspaintings @saturn2000 @a-dot-dev @bean04 @helena-way07 @tooturntashbash @locallolli @simonsbluee @redperson58 @reddeserths @annshit @corpsie-bby @emperor-pizza @vacaprincess @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @rolls-and-rolex @supernovavision @bestgirlkonan @hughugh20 @theolwebshooter @johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt @shinyyoonie @milybones @propertyofdindjarin @qatiee @sunshineandrainyflowers @dontlookatmeidk @kxsmicsmain @corpsesgirl @witchybarb
┖┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┚
6K notes · View notes
buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years
Text
i won't let you down
Tumblr media
© @snyderzack
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Bucky helps you and gives you hope.
word count: 1.196 words.
warnings/tags: very brief mention of domestic violence, the winter soldier coming to help you.
author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
Tumblr media
BUCKY POV
It was the fourth month he was living in the same building as you, concretely, in the apartment next to yours. Since the very first moment you met in the lift, you were extra kind with him and he couldn’t help but think that you were hiding some kind of intentions, until the days passed away and he discovered it was part of your naturality. He remembered, as if it happened yesterday, the first morning he knocked on your door asking for some coffee and you practically invited him to have breakfast together. You two talked about your part-time job in a cafeteria by morning, close to the neighborhood, and another one in a book shop by evenings. Bucky was fascinated by how much you used the hours of your days, letting you work out and have long walks in Central Park.
And he also remembered the night you knocked on his door for the first time, after hearing him having some nightmares and not being able to go back to sleep. The walls seemed like thin paper. He didn’t get it out of his head that time he heard you crying in your room, in the small hours, after a fight with your boyfriend. A punk who didn’t deserve an angel like you. On all the occasions you two argued, Bucky wanted to intervene, but he didn’t because what was his right.
Until a night where the heated talk escalated too quickly to swearings coming from him, and a painful scream coming from your lips after a loud hit. Bucky kicked the door down without doubting, panting furious and breaking into your apartment like a bat out of hell. As soon as he reached the living room and saw you crying and lying on the floor, all his rage contained during months got concentrated on the same point. Five cold fingers closing in a big and dangerous fist.
“Who the fuck are you?” Your boyfriend spat raving mad.
“A guy who’s gonna disappoint his therapist for breaking rule number two”. The soldier hissed, not giving time to the other to react.
With his left hand grabbing your boyfriend’s throat, Bucky pinned him to the nearest wall with so much uncontrollable strength that he almost opened a hold in it, straight to his own house.
“Listen to me now, you son of a bitch”. Their faces were separated barely for a couple of inches, drinking each other’s breathing. “If I see you coming again, laying a finger on her… I promise I’ll turn your life into a damn nightmare”.
Bucky could see the horror borning in his eyes when your boyfriend recognized him. That voice. Those blue orbs. The metallic fingers cutting off the air from his lungs. He was in the news for a long time. The Winter Soldier. One of those freaks with superpowers, with the difference that he was a trained assassin. Only a fool wouldn’t obey his threat. But for some reason, Bucky wasn’t able to loosen the hold around the other man, driven by the desire he had for killing him. After all the suffering he made you go through, after all the nights hearing you crying, after all the time waiting for your boyfriend to change. He wanted to end his life.
“Bu— Bucky”. Your weak sobs brought him back to reality. To New York. To the year twenty twenty-one. To the new century.
As if it was an automatic act, his fingers opened making your boyfriend fall to the floor. Coughing, choking with his own saliva and the lack of air. The poor coward ran away before Bucky could blink twice. Shaking his head to shut up the voices inside his head claiming him to chase the man, he turned around and squatted next to you. A thin thread of blood poured out from the upper right corner of your lip, as your cheek was burning in pain after the punch. The soldier held you onto his arms, listening to the sound of the police sirens coming. Probably some neighbor called them, fed up with the fights inside your house.
You were crying inconsolably and ashamed when he walked into his apartment, placing you with so much care on his sofa. Bucky didn’t utter a syllable, heading to his bathroom to take something to fix you up. He had a good medical kit since he didn’t want to visit any kind of hospital. Coming back to you, the soldier knelt next to you, feeling a knot inside his chest pressing out his skin. He wetted a cotton in hydrogen peroxide and placed his warm free hand on your untouched cheek to urge you to raise your head towards him. You couldn’t help but draw a grimace of pure soreness that broke his heart in one million pieces.
“Sorry…” Bucky murmured, earning your look filled up with sadness. “I, uh… I wanted to… So many times, I…”
“Thank you… for saving me”. You stuttered in low tears, while he continued healing your lip and cleaning the blood on it. “You’re a… good man, James”.
“I just did what I had to”.
“We’re… more than fifty persons living here… And you’ve been the one who has saved me”.
Knocks on his door interrupted your little chat, causing him to frown as the two of you heard it was the NYPD. Bucky left a delicate caress on your cheek before standing up and attending the call. The cops came into his house without asking if they could, knowing very well the man who was living there.
“Ma’am, you okay?” One of the officers inquired walking closer.
“Yeah, it was… I just… slip off to the fl—”. Tell them about your, now, ex-boyfriend wasn’t an option for you, feigning a soft chuckle as you cleaned the tears in your eyelids.
“His boyfriend hit her”. But Bucky interrupted you.
“And you helped her, mister Barnes?”
“Yeah, and she’s gonna make a complaint”.
That wasn’t an option for you either, but by the look coming from his eyes, you knew it was the only one for him. You couldn’t persuade him.
“Ma’am?”
Bucky licked his bottom lip, shortening the distance between both to grab his cozy and baggy black hoodie to offer it to you. He was determined to help you. He really wanted your welfare.
“C’mon”. He almost begged you in a whisper, shaking briefly his hand holding the piece of clothing to convince you of taking the good road. “I’ll be with you, I promise. I won’t let you down… Not again”.
It took you a couple of seconds to nod your head, getting up from his sofa being helped by the cold hand showing up. Bucky made you wear his hoodie, with so much careless to not touch your right cheek still burning because of the pain. Under the attentive look of the cops, he placed his flesh arm over your shoulders, not caring about the lack of distance when you clung yours around his waist and tried to hide your face on his chest. For the first time since you started that toxic relationship, you felt safe. You felt liberated.
Tumblr media
feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.
and REBLOG!!! support the writers 🤍
TAG LIST: @mystic-232 @homesicam @theresnoplatypus @i-love-scott-mccall @slutfornat @goldielocks2004 @whatrambles @spidergirla5 @fanofalltheficsx @nocturnalherb16 @valenquei @golden-hoax @hunter-of-baker-street @missusstark @vhscherry @warm-sensations @addictedtofictionalcharacters @sarahsmcu @tinylumpiaa @amelia-song-pond @heartislubbingdubbing @stolenxkissess @clean-and-claire @winchestersgirl222 @virgoroses @marvel-ousnesss @me-a-hopeless-romantic @rvgrsbrns @maccasbeard @haileygarciasunshine @lewd-alien @kait-is-always-late @mckenna @weenersoldierr @mxltifaves @soldierstucky @theboldandthebootyful @arkofblake @isabellamur @kiwisa @spider-man-lover @rosiebrands @stealapizzamyheart @koressecretidentity @asemistablehundredyearoldman @mayans-sauce @petlaufeyson @megapeacelovemusic-blog @phoenixhalliwell
873 notes · View notes
ayamturd · 3 years
Text
bisexual│mcyt hc
warnings: small mentions of hate, fluff
prompt: (requested 1 & 2) “Hello uh I saw one of your posts about the dream smp reacting to you coming out so I was wondering if you haven't already done it can you do dream smp reacting to you coming out as bisexual?” 
“Hello yamturd so I was wondering if maybe you could do tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo reacting to reader coming out as bisexual or lesbian if you haven't already done it :)” 
pairings: irl platonic! dream, ranboo, tommy and tubbo ; c!technoblade
a/n: if i offend or misinterpret anything in this hc, please feel free to message and correct me otherwise. i will always try to correct or delete this post if asked so <33
sending my love to all those who identify as bisexual <33
wc: (1.5k) - m.list
Tumblr media
dream - 
considering his prideful personality sometimes, you probably wanted to play with his ego and drop subtle hints
not anything too obvious, but enough to make him kick himself when he realizes
though it was admittedly difficult since he plays into the dnf ship so much that he thinks you’re also joking more than half the time 
imagine you two were in a voice call one evening and randomly discussing the recent fanon and what would be funny to turn into canon (to mess with the fandom)
you’ve been recently shipped with two other content creators, both of opposing female and male gender, separately and together
“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind hitting that.” “Which one?” “Both.”
He’d laugh, but you didn’t.
“Wait, you’re serious? You actually identify as…?” “Bisexual. Yeah, I’m pretty sure anyway.” “Y/n, that’s amazing.”
takes pride in the fact that you trust him, but would feign being upset that you messed with him for as long as you did
be jokingly offended if he found out someone knew before him
“Wait…” “Yes?” “You told Bad??” “Yeah, he was one of the first.” “W— Why??”
It was your turn to laugh while he gawked in disbelief.
“It’s Bad! Of course I told him.” “… Fair enough.”
hate is a given, and he’ll always be there to support and defend you
he’ll always ask your permission before taking any action, however, because he respects you too much and knows you can fight your own battles
dream is someone will show relentless support, whether that be through words or moral support, he’ll always be there for you 
c!technoblade - 
i honestly feel like you never officially came out to techno
as you began to recognize yourself as bisexual, you slowly expressed yourself around him more openly to the point where he unconsciously knew
it’d probably would have hit him in the most random moment after months of assuming he knew
imagine you’re in the midst of battle when techno paused entirely with wide eyes 
“Y/n!” “What!?” “Are you gay??”
you would tease him when discussing your love life in one-sided conversations with him; him basically choosing to ignore you when you talk to him
“Honestly, Techno, how could you not want to hit that?” “Please, just stop.”
(i’ve written this before but will stand by this that) he truly doesn’t care for your sexuality
you’re a friend, someone he trusts and relies on, he doesn’t need to consider who you’re attracted to since he sees you for your skills and friendship
the only, and only time he is mindful of your sexuality depends on others unnecessary comments about it
the smp is a known judgement free land, but there will always be someone with ignorant opinions that he is always quick to shut down (or kill)
nothing much can be said besides the fact that you’ll always be y/n to him: a loyal friend and someone he would fight the world for
ranboo - 
oh sweet ranboo, dear ranboo
considering how openly supportive and kind he naturally is, you didn’t question the idea of telling him
i’d like to imagine that unlike most where you planned or waited to tell, the moment you knew, he would know soon after
imagine you called him before he began his lore stream to hype him up
you both were talking about more mundane things to calm his nerves as people joined when you brought it up
“Oh actually, before you start, I wanted to tell you something.” “Sure, what is it?” “Well, I— I’m Bisexual.” “…You’re tELLING ME THIS WHEN I’M ABOUT TO START MY STREAM??” “Y/n! I’m so happy for you, that’s amazing!”
he’s incredibly patient concerning how you wanted others to know or when you were ready to be completely out
similar to c!techno with the same beliefs you’re still y/n, and nothing has changed besides you coming out as yourself
he’s your go to when days are rough, because he knows how to help you understand you’re still loved as the same y/n and nothing less
“Hey, hey, listen to me. I love you, y/n. We all do, and you’ll never be alone when things get rough, alright?” (love /p)
knows how to silently deal with hate in his chat unless it becomes evident enough to address it (doesn’t want to bring attention to meaningless words until it becomes serious)
ranboo’s your rock and makes show that he’ll never believe anything other than that you deserve love
tommyinnit - 
as someone who took pride in defending the LGBTQ+ community, you had no hesitation when coming out to tommy
if any, your reluctance would come from accepting yourself to the point to be open with other people
it’s not as if he didn’t accept you, he could never imagine doing so in the slightest, but he probably wouldn’t know what to say initially
imagine you both were in the midst of playing bedwars together in a recording for a video
he had been busy gathering emeralds while you remained at the base, and the comforting silence gave you the confidence to blindly address it
“Hey Tommy?” “What, y/n? I’m in the middle of something right now.” “Oh, um, I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.” “…” “…Tommy?” “…” “T— Tommy?”
it’d be dead quiet for a few seconds before you heard the noise of him rustling in realization
“Wait wait wait, you’re serious? You’re bisexual?” “Haha yeah, yeah, I am.” “WHA—!”
he was happy for you, to say the least
tommy loves to joke, and one he loved to make would be your attraction to both genders
you like women? pog!
you like men? a shame, honestly
if you were publicly out, his favorite bit would be to include you in his obnoxious swooning
imagine he was streaming while talking about his love for women
“Boys, honestly, the ladies just can’t resist me.”
The ding of discord notified you entering the call, the sound of your laughter immediately coming through.
“I agree, Tommy, I definitely agree.” “Y/n! You are attracted to women, and I am also attracted to women. You can agree women are amazing, yes?” “I can, Tommy. Women are indeed amazing.” “Good lad!” “Tommy, you do realize I’m not only attracted to w—” “Shush, we don’t speak of that.”
he showed his support by normalizing your sexuality, his acceptance quick and easily integrated into your lives
(this is getting long but—) tommy was well aware he lacked some knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community, but openly voiced his ignorance as a sign of awareness itself
he was always quick to correct either himself or others, he refused to accept slander of any type in his streams
would probably try to keep it light heartedly, but scold nonetheless
tommy was your figurative cheerleader, always there to include and uplift you, whether that be through the smallest gestures or loudest cheers
tubbo - 
poor tubbo
since he wasn’t the most careful with secrets, you probably withheld telling him till you were ready for most to know
this isn’t to deter anything of not trusting him, he’s still supportive and loving tubbo that wouldn’t dare do anything purposeful against you
if anything, you might have forgotten that he didn’t know when you were casually taking about it within a group
imagine you and Ranboo were trying to get him to sleep one early morning but gave up
you started talking about personal stuff and the topic of your love life came up, specifically the attraction to someone of the same gender
“I don’t know, Ranboo, I mean, I think I like them but at the same time I’m not sure.” “That’s fai—” “Wait, y/n. You’re gay??” “Bisexual, actually.” “WaAA—”
his very sleep deprived state was extremely happy and emotional for you
he’s like the little duckling with a knife, like he loves you completely but will try to hurt anyone that offends you
like tommy, he has no personal knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community but will solely learn for your sake
whether you’re younger or not, tubbo never fails to remind you that he looks up to you
he gives his all and won’t hesitate to provide in any way he can if needed
“You matter,” he’ll always say, “you’re important and no one else’s opinion matter.”
is proud to be your friend and expresses his platonic love in full, for you’re you and are so brave to be yourself despite all
Tumblr media
choosing not to tag my usual taglist just cause its a headcanon with a specific request <33 (huge ty to @basilly​ and @inniterhq​ though for the advice/motivation to finish this)
584 notes · View notes
goldenshoyo · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
A commission! If you're interested in commissioning me, send me a dm!
Summary: Iwaizumi comforts you after your ex hurts you again.
Genre: Fluff and smut
Word count: ~3k
Warnings: vaginal sex, fem reader, use of "good girl" and "baby girl", and really not much else. This is soft. Let me know if you want anything else tagged.
---
He's done it again, Hajime thought as he looked down at his phone and the cluster of messages you had been sending him. He knew before opening them, but upon confirming his suspicion, canceled all the meetings he had leading up to the weekend and decided to make you, his propriety. Surely, the team wouldn’t mind. They had more than one athletic trainer for a reason and could easily make do without him for one long weekend.
“Heading out?” Coach Hibarida raises his eyebrow at Hajime as he packed up his bag.
“Emergency,” he says slipping his phone in his pocket. “I’ll let you know if everything is alright. Might need to call in one of the others for tomorrow.”
“No problem.” He crosses his arms and turns back to watching the team run drills. With one last careful glance at a few of the players he’s been concerned with due to past injuries, he leaves to rush to the bakery down the street from your home.
Parking the car outside of the bakery, glad to have made it before the rush, he pulls out his phone and responds to your texts.
Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon. You can tell me all about it when I get there.
He picks out a few croissants stuffed with chocolate, slices of cheesecake and strawberry shortcake, and two turkey sandwiches to go. He laughs as he places the bag on the passenger seat, the sandwiches sound so out of place with all the sugary treats, but he wants to ensure you are taking care of yourself… especially since your bastard of an ex never cared to.
If he wouldn’t, Hajime knew he could.
--
The sound of your apartment buzzer blaring in your living room pulls you from your daydream… or dissociation… whichever it was at that point. You press the button, giving Hajime access to the building, and try and straighten up the mess that gathered in the room since yesterday evening. Unlocking the door to the living room, you lay on the couch, curling your knees up to your chest and resting your head on a fluffy pillow you’d brought out of your room last night.
You felt dumb, letting this happen again. While it’s obviously not your fault, part of you can’t help but feel like if only you were stronger, you’d stop letting your ex do this to you. It’s nearly pathetic, you think, always letting him back in and letting him crush you just to call your best friend to pick up the pieces. He’s probably getting tired of it and you can’t blame him if he is.
“Hey,” he opens the door, and you see a brown bag from the bakery between his chest and arm.
“Hi,” your voice cracks, and you cough. You didn’t realize your previous fits had affected your voice so soon.
He places the bag on your coffee table and lifts you up to a sitting position and takes your place so you can lay on him instead of the arm of the couch and your pillow. He strokes your hair softly, twirling the strands between his fingers when he gets to the end before letting it fall and repeating the steps. You let him continue this for a while, happy that he’s not pushing you to talk. You know how he feels about your ex, having had a few… well disagreements to put it lightly… over him. It’s easier when he just holds you instead of telling you what you already know.
“I brought you lunch… well I guess it’s actually closer to an early dinner now. But there are also lots of sweets. I tried to get all your favorites,” he tells you softly and you look up and see his face isn’t happy or sad. He looks completely neutral.
“I really appreciate that.” You sit up and let the blanket fall off your shoulders and pool on your lap and the couch. “Thank you for coming by again.”
He wraps his arm around your shoulder and rubs his hand up and down gently. “Anytime. I’m always here for you,” he chuckles, and you give him a confused look. “Even when you make stupid decisions.”
“There it is!” You giggle and lean forward taking the ridiculous amount of food out of the bag. “I wondered when you’d start picking on me.” You hand him one of the sandwiches and lean back on the couch. “I’m really done with him this time.”
“Mhmm,” he hums. You choose to ignore it and eat your food. It’s better this way, not talking about it and just letting him keep you company.
Hajime cleans up the table after you’ve both indulged yourselves, putting the leftovers in your fridge. Noticing your dishwasher had been run, he puts the dishes away and reloads it with what’s spread out across your counters and in your sink. You want to tell him to stop, but from past experience, you know it won’t stop him.
“Come watch a movie with me,” you plead as he shuts the dishwasher. “I think the new Godzilla movie is out, don’t you like those?”
You hear a soft chuckle, barely audible. “Yeah, let’s watch it. Need anything else?”
“Just you,” you tell him, and he smiles at you before taking his place beside you.
His arm snakes around your shoulder and you lean into him. You watch as the movie starts, not really knowing anything about the movie playing out, but laughing whenever Haji makes a comment about one of the giants fighting on the screen. He smiles at you every time he catches your gaze, going into more detail to give you information on the lore or answering a question you ask.
“That was…. interesting,” you comment as the credits play.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “It was good.”
You can’t help but giggle. “Well, it’s not my type of movie. That’s all I’ll say,” you continue laughing and he wraps you in his arms and pulls you closer. There’s a long bout of silence.
“You deserve better, you know.”
“I know,” you say quietly not looking up at him.
“Someone who will take care of you,” he continues. “It kills me every time you do this, letting him in just to use you even though this always happens.” He gestures between you and him. “Let me instead.”
“What?” You sit up, pulling away from him and furrowing your brows. “Let you what?”
“----, I’ve always loved you. You have to know that by now.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. “Please, just let me take care of you. Please,” he continues. His eyes are locked on yours and you shiver.
Of course, some part of you always felt like he may have had feelings for you. But you weren’t sure if they were still present ever since this mess with your ex started 6 months ago. He never said no to coming over to comfort you, and every time you began getting closer and closer with Hajime until you become comfortable just laying on his chest and letting him soothe you to sleep like he was your boyfriend and not your best friend.
“I-“
“You don’t have to say anything now. I know I just sprung it on you out of nowhere, and when you’re vulnerable on top of that.” He sighs standing up and walking towards the door. His hands run through his hair. “I’m sorry to dump it all on you-“
Your body moves before you can think, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around him, but there’s no stopping it now. You kiss him, cutting off his word vomit. His hands cup your cheeks and hold you still while his lips move against yours. They’re softer than you expected, but then again, you’re not sure you expected any of this.
Pulling away you look up at him. His green eyes are looking down at you, slightly glossy and bright. “Don’t go.” You tell him and pull him closer to you. “Please,” you beg, lip quivering and tears threatening to spill. “Please stay.”
As the tears break the barrier and stream down your cheeks the skin under your eyes burn, the skin still raw from the night's previous. It hurts, but the desperately empty feeling you’ve had in your chest is filling up. The warmth returning and your heart feeling lighter and lighter the longer he holds you close to him.
“I’ll never leave you,” he says softly, his hand resting on the top of your head and then stroking down your hair. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you tell him back. It feels weird saying it to him like this. You’ve told him before, but never feeling the way you do now. Your chest swelling and nerves making you want to fidget your fingers. “I’m sorry-“
“Don’t apologize for anything.” His tone is much firmer now, less desperate like before. “I should have told you sooner, then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt so often.”
“It’s not your fault,” you pull away and grab a tissue to wipe your eyes and cheeks. “I’m just glad you told me.” The flood of emotions seems to be washing away, your body lighter and mind no longer cloudy.
“I really need to shower,” you tell him then laugh. “I probably smell.”
“You don’t,” he laughs. “But if you feel like you need to, go ahead. It’s getting sort of late anyway, so I’ll head ho-“
“No! I told you I don’t want you to go. You can stay the night.” You frown at him and he laughs.
“I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to let me stay since I confessed to you, that’s all. I want to respect your boundaries. Especially since everything is so fresh and raw.”
You ignore the way his words make you feel between your thighs and disappear into your room, getting your things together for your shower. Hajime joins you in your room, sitting on the bed and crossing his legs while watching you gather everything.
--
When you step outside the bathroom door, Hajime has to look away. Your towel wrapped around your body, skin sparkling with water droplets, and the sweet scent of your body wash is too much all at once. Adjusting his pants, hoping you don’t see, he finally looks back at you when you speak.
“I think you left some shorts here the last time you stayed. I’ll see if I can find them.”
“Thanks,” he says quickly.
Tossing him the shorts, you see he’s not making eye contact with you, and you giggle. “It’s okay to look at me, ya know. I mean, aren’t we like… a thing now?”
He coughs, “yeah, I just need to go change.” Getting off the bed, he tries to sneak past you to the bathroom, but you catch his arm.
“Why not change in here?” You tilt your head, a devious smile forming on your lips. “Is something wrong?” You fake a concerned tone, knowing what you’re doing to him. He’s hard, you can see it through his pants, but you don’t dare to make it obvious… yet.
“I… I just-“ he stutters. “I want you to feel comfortable getting dressed is all.”
Instead of answering you drop the towel, your body fully exposed to him now and his cheeks go bright red. He can’t stop himself from looking now, hypnotized with everything he sees. He’s ashamed to even think about the times he’s thought of you this way but seeing you fully nude is so much better than any daydream.
“Fuck,” he mumbles quietly, and you giggle again.
He reaches out, taking your hips in his hand and pulling your body against him. You lean up and kiss him, his tongue slipping into your mouth almost instantly as you wrap your hands around his shoulders. You moan against his lips, your hands sliding under his shirt and feeling his abs underneath.
He breaks the kiss, pushing you gently onto the bed with a small apology before quickly pulling his shirt off and attaching himself to you again. He grinds against you, his thigh rubbing your cunt and making you gasp while he bites down on your neck gently and licking over the skin. Arching your back, you try your best to get as close to him as possible.
“More,” you whimper needing more than just his thigh teasing you. “I need you.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you,” he stands up at the end of the bed and pushes his pants down his legs, and steps out of them.
His cock flinging from his underwear and hitting his stomach makes you whine, it’s almost too perfect. His hand wrapped around it and his thumb dragging across the tip nearly make you beg for him to fuck you, but you know you need to be patient.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I promise I don’t mind waiting.” He sounds so sincere; you could cry if you weren’t so pent up and desperate to have him fuck you right. Instead of answering, you sit up, opening the drawer on your bedside table, and toss a condom at him. He chuckles, ripping the packet open with his teeth then sliding it down his length.
“Please,” you say pulling him down towards you with your arm. “I need you,” you smile knowing he likes hearing that. Beyond just tonight, you plan him making sure he knows this forever. “Please make love to me.”
He kisses your lips, his hand holding the back of your head while he pushes you further onto the bed and teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You whimper feeling the head push past your hole and inside of you. His size didn’t scare you when you first saw it, but now feeling him slowly fill you up you think maybe a healthy dose of fear isn’t such a bad thing.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “It’s okay,” a kiss to your forehead helps you relax. He stops moving after he fully reaches inside of you, and you try to relax more. “Let me know when you’re okay,” he kisses your forehead again. His lips are so warm and soft, you could melt.
“Move,” you beg once you feel the burning subside and become antsy for him to make you feel even more.
The first thrust takes your breath away, making you close your eyes and squeeze his biceps tight with your fingers. The second, you moan so loudly you think the neighbors will hear. You lose yourself completely while he fucks into you. His breath is hot against your neck and ear, shallow moans leaving his lips and making your stomach turn in delight.
“Haji, please! More!” Wrapping your legs around his waist, he thrusts into you harder, and you let out a loud cry. Each thrust is better than the last, and you wonder if you’ve ever felt this good. The coil twisting in your stomach threatens to snap with each swift impact of his cock hitting the spot inside of you that makes you dig your nails in his back.
“Are you close baby girl? Are you gonna come for me?” He looks down at you with a smirk and you nod. “You feel so fucking good squeezing my cock so tight. Come on baby, I know you want to cum. I want to feel it. Cum for me.”
Your breathing hitches and you close your eyes as your orgasm rips through your body; toes curling and nails digging deeper into Hajime’s skin. He kisses you through the high of your climax and you cling to him as if he’s your lifeline. Again, you’re left wondering if you’ve ever felt this good. How has he made you feel this high on him?
It’s overwhelming. It’s too much. You’re not sure if you can keep letting him go. Part of you starts to panic scared you won’t be able to let him continue fucking you.
“Good girl,” he says against your lips. All previous worries leave your body in an instant with those two simple words. “My good girl. I’m close too. Can you hold out for me baby?” You nod again, too tired to say anything and whimpering each time his cock drags against your walls. After a few more quick thrusts he’s holding you still and cumming.
Without stopping for a moment to breathe, he pulls out and stands up. Slipping the condom off and tying the end before tossing it in the bin beside your desk, he then tosses himself onto the bed beside you. He pulls you into his chest, holding you as close to him as he can while slowly stroking your arms.
“Is it cliché to say I love you again?” you ask kissing his chest.
“I don’t think so,” he laughs, chest vibrating against your lips. “I love you.”
“I love you!” You kiss his lips once before laying your head on his bicep and closing your eyes. “Thank you for always being here for me.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he moves a strand of hair from your face and smiles. “I have nowhere else I’d rather be. In fact, that reminds me…” he sits up and reaches down off the bed for his phone from his pants. “Need to tell Coach Hibarida I won’t be in tomorrow.”
448 notes · View notes
heliads · 3 years
Text
Deserve You
Based on this request: “Bucky imagine where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good at all for him even though he loves you more than anything. one time he comes from a mission to you waiting in his room, doubting again but he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then? :)”
masterlist
Tumblr media
You open your eyes gradually, the last remnants of sleep being dragged away by the brightness of dawn. You allow yourself one final moment of lingering silence before sitting up with a yawn. A brief spurt of panic flashes across you when you realize that you’re alone in your bed, but then you hear a quiet noise from the kitchen and your pulse begins to settle once more. Bucky must have already gotten up, there’s no need to worry.
You keep having moments like this, where you turn to find yourself alone and keep thinking that this is it, that he’s finally left you. Then you mentally chide yourself for thinking that way- every single one of the Avengers that you’ve met on your trips to the old Stark Tower keeps talking about how Bucky’s head over heels for you, so why would he ghost you out of nowhere? You always smile for a second, thinking about your boyfriend, and then the doubt creeps back in and you glance around to find him. Every single time, without fail, those lurking remnants of doubt always worm back into your mind, and sometimes it feels like there’s nothing you can do to get rid of them.
The only available option is to find Bucky and put your mind at ease by knowing that he’s still here. So, you slide your legs out of the still-warm blankets, grimacing at the shock of the cold air, and pad over to the kitchen. Sure enough, Bucky is holding a mug of some hot beverage, maybe coffee or tea, and staring out the window at the city below him. He does this, sometimes, just watches the city like he could do it for hours. You have a feeling that he’s studying the city for any last lingering resemblance to the New York he’d grown up in, when the most pressing news was World War II and he didn’t see himself in Siberia for anything more than a ski trip, if he could put together enough pennies to afford it. However, life has a way of throwing you for a loop, and all of Bucky’s plans for the future evaporated as soon as he plummeted from the train all those years ago.
Bucky turns when he hears you approach. “Good morning.” You smile, joining him by the window. “Good morning yourself. Are you up early for an assignment or because of a nightmare?” Bucky frowns. “The latter. Did I wake you? I thought I was quiet.” You shake your head. “No, I was asleep the whole time. I just knew because you have that same look on your face after you have your nightmares.” Bucky laughs quietly. “And here I thought I was supposed to be the spy who knew everything. Sure you don’t want a job at S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 
You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not sure that paying attention to my boyfriend really qualifies me for FBI: Avengers Edition, but I’ll keep it in mind.” You head over to the fridge, starting to pull out some items for breakfast. Bucky leaves within a few minutes, mumbling something about an early morning meeting, and you head to work yourself soon after. Your own workplace is no Avengers Tower, just a typical office building, and you slide into your seat just in time to start the day.
The morning itself is fairly uneventful, and you’re just starting to think that it’s going to be another boring day as usual when you head off to your lunch break. As you’re waiting in line to use the microwave, you hear a pair of women talking at a table near you. You had no intention of eavesdropping, but although their voices are fairly loud your attention was hooked from the beginning when you realize they’re talking about Bucky. More specifically, they’re talking about Bucky’s girlfriend, or lack thereof.
Ever since you started dating Bucky, he had been careful to keep you out of the public eye. When you work as an Avenger for long enough, you learn to keep everyone important to you out of focus, out of danger. If a HYDRA agent got word of the former Winter Soldier’s girlfriend, you’d be on a train to Siberia with handcuffs and a blindfold within the hour, a ransom request already placed on your head. That’s if they were patient- if not, they would just shoot you to send a message. By making sure nobody heard about you, Bucky could keep you safe.
The downside of this is times like now, when you have to listen to two of your coworkers discussing how strange it is that a man as attractive as James Barnes would still be single. Obviously, you can’t say anything, and you’re not sure that they’d believe you if you tried, but it’s still slightly uncomfortable to hear the conversation swirling around you even as you have to stay silent. 
One of the women clicks her tongue in confusion. “I mean, isn’t it weird, though? He’s a friend of Tony Stark, there’s no doubt he’d have a shortage of girls who’d be willing to go out to a bar or something on a weekend.” The other woman laughs. “I bet that surplus of girls includes you, right?” The first woman grins cheekily. “I wouldn’t say no if he asked, but even I don’t have a chance. I mean, he’s an Avenger, and one of the hottest ones there. No one here could hold a candle to him. He saves lives on a daily basis and what do we do, sit around all the time? The only woman I could see him with is an agent or maybe Black Widow. At least then he’d be dating someone who’s his equal.”
The words feel like shards of ice threading through your heart, and you turn to go back to your desk, hunger suddenly forgotten. As you stare at your work, though, you find you can’t concentrate. You keep hearing what the women had said, that no one in this miserable office could be worthy of dating the famous Avenger Bucky Barnes. They’re right, aren’t they? Bucky was saving lives all the time while you complained and acted so needy. You sigh to yourself, feeling your spirits dampen by the second. Why did Bucky see in you anyway?
Bucky’s shoulders feel like they’ve been carved from stone. He’s been tense for so long that he’s certain he’ll never be able to move again. Today is the day that he has to begin reviewing case files from his time as a Winter Soldier. He’ll have to come face to face with photo and video evidence of all the wrongs he’s done, of all the killings and blood shed by his own damaged hands. He’s been trying to avoid it for a while, but S.H.I.E.L.D. needs his input on all of the past Winter Soldier missions in order to proceed with the ongoing investigations into the last HYDRA strongholds. Bucky has no choice but to confront his past, he knows that, but it doesn’t make his job any easier.
It’s not like he’s alone, though. Natasha is here, because her experience with the Red Room could prove useful with putting together some pieces of the HYDRA-Siberia-Soviet puzzle that’s been plaguing them for some time now. Steve is also here, one door down, looking at his old medical files that detail exactly how some brilliant scientists turned a scrawny kid with a death wish when it came to standing up to bullies into the strongest man of the century. 
Bucky clenches his jaw, and turns back to the manila file folder in his hand. He flips it open, taking out the diagrams and security camera stills and laying them out onto the table before him as he reads. He’s flipping through the rest of the contents of the folder when he pauses, staring at the images awaiting his acknowledgement. Natasha sees him freeze slightly and glances over to see what’s troubling him. Her brow dips in understanding.
Lying before him are photo after photo of death and destruction. Bucky remembers this day now, after it was buried so long under HYDRA mind wipes and his own crippling want to forget. The bodies of the dead line a small street, buildings reduced to rubble. He can see the dead, so many of them. There aren’t just the few military commanders he was sent to exterminate- no, HYDRA wants no witnesses and so Bucky had killed everyone in sight. There are children in pools of blood, their mothers reaching over them as if to shield them from the inevitable bullets coming their way. He tells himself that their deaths were quick, efficient, maybe even painless, but it is not enough. There is no way to justify this amount of bloodshed.
Natasha puts her hand on his shoulder. The gesture, meant to bring comfort, startles him and it takes all of Bucky’s self-control to not flinch. Bucky swallows hard. “I did all of this. I killed every one of them.” Natasha’s voice is low and quiet. “It wasn’t you. You had no choice in any of this.” Bucky laughs, thought it is heavy with horror and breaks in upon itself. “It’s easier to say that, but it was still my hand pulling the trigger.” He leans back against the wall, trying to steady himself.
“How were you and Steve able to convince anyone to trust me? Why did you even want to save me in the first place?” Natasha stares at the photos, taking in the broken bodies of the dead. “Steve knew the real you, the one who’s standing here right now and would never attempt this sort of carnage. I knew what it was like to lose all control and feel like your hands would always be stained with blood. Second chances are more powerful than you might think.”
Bucky shakes his head slowly. “I don’t deserve that chance. I don’t deserve any of this.” He closes his eyes for just a second as if by blocking out the world he can block out the memory of the methodical shudder of the rifle in his hands, the recoil as he fired again and again. “I don’t deserve Y/N. She-” Natasha cuts him off smoothly. “Y/N knows what you’ve been through, and she knows that you are not that same man. I’ve spoken with her before, and she knows the full extent of what you did.”
Bucky’s eyes cut back to the photographs. “Then why does she stay?” Natasha’s gaze feels like a leaden weight, unflinching and unyielding. “She stays because she loves you. She stays because she knows that the real Bucky Barnes is a hero, someone who is willing and able to move on from their past. Y/N is one of the most important parts of your life, not because she’s a good kisser but because she’s one of the only people who can see straight through you and know that you’re a good man.” 
Bucky nods. “I don’t need you to tell me twice.” Natasha’s right, though, and even the barest mention of Y/N brings back a wave of good memories to fight against the bad. She’s like an anchor, someone holding him in place even when all of the darkness he’s had to endure threatens to pull him under. It astonishes him sometimes that he still wakes up beside her every morning. She’s so perfect, so wonderful. What does Y/N see in him anyway that would make him so lucky to have her with him?
You’re in a despondent mood for the rest of the day. You slump home, not even bothering to turn on the lights but discarding your coat and bag in the dark of the room. The faint light still shining through the windows is all you’ll need. You stare unthinkingly at the apartment for a while, then head to your bedroom. As you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you stop with a sigh, leaning your hands against the dresser underneath.
You stare at yourself, at the dark circles under your eyes. Who are you, anyway? Who are you to think that you would ever be good enough for an Avenger? At this point, it’s only a matter of days before he breaks up with you. No wonder he keeps waking up before you- he’s trying to leave without seeing you that often, as a way to lessen the blow of the eventual goodbye.
The problem about gloomy thoughts is that they tend to wrap around you, pulling you away from everything else. You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the front door open, and you don’t notice Bucky enter the apartment until he knocks softly on the wall of your bedroom as he stands in the open door. You turn around with a flash, plastering on a smile, but your reaction is too late and his brow furrows. “Are you alright?”
You try for a smile, reaching out to kiss him in greeting. “Of course I am. How was your day?” Bucky is not to be deterred. “I saw your face, Y/N. You looked really upset. Is everything okay?” Maybe it’s that velvet tone of his, or the concern laced in his eyes, but your few fragile defenses break down. You turn to him, fighting back tears. “Why are you still with me?” Bucky frowns. “What?” You hold your hands up uselessly. “You’re an Avenger and you’re out there saving lives all the time. Why would you ever be interested in some girl from the city? I’m not half the person you are.”
Bucky stares at you for a second, then wraps his arms around you, drawing you close. “Y/N, love, why would you ever think that?” You look away. “Because it’s true. You should be dating some other superhero of a woman who could be your equal.” Bucky’s frown tinges slightly with anger. “Did you hear about this on some news show? I told that one news outlet that if they said a single thing about me I’d shut them down, and I’ll do it-” You cut him off. “It’s not like that. It’s just- You’re an Avenger, Bucky, and you deserve someone equally as brave as you are.”
Bucky guides you gently over to the bed, and the two of you sit down on the edge. He pulls you into his arms. “I don’t want some superhero. I want you. Y/N, I love you because you’re the only one here who sees me for who I really am, not just some soulless Avenger but a faulty person. Honestly, if anything I’m surprised that you’d still stay with me.” Your tears dry up as you stare at him. “What?” A quiet smile spreads across Bucky’s lips. “Every single day, I come home and you make a difficult day a thousand times better. You know me better than I know myself, and even despite everything I’ve done and the monster I’ve been, you still make me feel like a good man again. You’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met, Y/N, and you deserve someone equally as good as you are.”
You shake your head slowly. “That’s not the same. Anyone can be nice.” Bucky cups your cheek in his hand. “Nobody else knows that I always get up in the mornings and pace around because of the nightmares. Nobody else knows that I always stare down the alleyways on the walk home because I keep thinking I’ll see Steve in there getting beat up, or help me pick out jackets based on how easy it will be to remove the left sleeve. You’re the only one for me, doll, and I wouldn’t trade you for a heartbeat.”
He reaches into a pocket. “Here, I’ll prove it.” He takes out something silvery, like stamped metal. With a jolt, you realize they’re his dog tags, the ones he had from fighting in World War II all those years ago. He gestures for you to turn around and you do, feeling the weight of the metal around your throat as he fastens them. When you look back at him, he’s smiling. “See? You can’t get rid of me, love. Not in a million years.” 
You smile, running your fingers over the faded lettering. “Won’t you want them? You know, as a memory of your old life?” Bucky shakes his head, a content expression lingering in his eyes. “I don’t need them to remember. I’ve got you, and you’re the only home I’ll ever need.” When he kisses you again, you can feel the dog tags right over your heart, like a promise that he’ll always be with you, no matter what.
484 notes · View notes
dottiechan · 3 years
Text
ICEBREAKER Pt. 1
Tumblr media
Read on AO3 (link in bio)
Part 1 | Part 2&3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Pairing: Crosshair x Reader x Hunter; Tech x Reader (platonic)
Wordcount: 2389
Summary: Tech watches on helplessly as his brothers' affection for you threaten to ruin the squad.
Warnings: cursing, yearning
You’re just as cold on the inside as the ice is under your boots. It crunches with every step you take, and your heart seems to beat along with the fall of your boots, aching. You feel unsteady, almost enough to miss the tracks running in the snow right in front of you. You pause and crutch down, gloved fingers dipping into the indentations as you grumble to yourself. It’s not even your turn to scope out the area where you’re setting up camp, and besides, there is a literal tracking genius in your squad - it really shouldn’t be you who’s out here in the snow and ice, eyes straining against the blinding white of the planet, fingers freezing off as you set up perimeter alarms. And yet you just volunteered for the less than ideal task without explanation, not understanding your own decision either.
At least Tech offered to tag along, but you suspect he’s simply had enough of his brothers for a while. Not that you can blame him.
“Fascinating.”
You sigh, internally begging him to stop talking as you stand, abandoning the tracks after deciding they most likely belong to a lone whitefang. You have enough on your plate right now, with Hunter still being pissy and Crosshair avoiding you like the plague, and silence would be much more preferable right now to listening to one of Tech’s rambles.
“Did you know that this moon’s surface is almost entirely composed of water?”
“No.”
“Despite the subzero surface temperature, there are subsurface oceans underneath the ice that are warmed by the moon’s internal heat.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I wish we could stay long enough for me to study the subsurface flora and fauna. There might be plants underneath the ice that-”
“Tech.”
“-that use chemosynthesis-”
“Tech!”
“What?”
He has the decency to look flustered, one hand gripping the datapad tightly, the other flying up to adjust his goggles as he peers up at you. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but sometimes you just can’t help it. Sometimes, the confinement of the Marauder is enough to turn you into a ticking time bomb, irritated by the slightest seemingly innocent things. And you’ve had more than just mere sparks to flare your temper as of late.
...
His rifle is spotless, and yet he’s still scrubbing it as if his life depended on it.
Maybe it does, because if he jumps up and lowers his guard for a second, he’s out the ship and off to find you and Tech. Maybe you’re a fool sometimes, a god damn nuisance, a person he still couldn’t grow used to, but you belong with them now, you’re theirs, you’re his, and that means something to him. You frustrate him beyond reason, and he often grows callous and agitated because he refuses to allow himself to feel the emotions you elicit from him whenever you’re near him.
Even now, on an ice planet, the mere thought of you infects him with a sweet, sweet jungle fever that knocks him off his feet.
And he’s supposed to be angry now, Crosshair reminds himself. After all, you almost gotten yourself killed on Bracca, and almost broke him in the process.
“They’ve been gone for too long,” Hunter grumbles as he paces up and down like a caged nexu craving to run free. But lately Crosshair began to suspect that he craves something else, someone else, and the thought has his throat tightening in jealousy. He’s been watching, and he convinced himself that he’d misread the signs until he saw the same agitation reflect in his brother’s eyes that he himself has to wrestle with every day.
If it ever came down to your choice, he knows he wouldn’t be it, and he hates living with this knowledge.
Hunter has all the things you seem to like - unlimited kindness, longing looks, smirks that turn a little too soft when directed at you, broad shoulders he caught you staring at more times than he can count. Deep down, he’s still hoping it will never come to you having to choose, but it’s impossible not to wish to be in the centre of your attention. You drive him insane, but you also make him want to commit and stop fighting and lay down his weapons for once in his god damn life.
“Relax. They’re probably fine.”
The screen to their left lights up, and Hunter rushes across the ship in long strides before exhaling in relief. “The proximity alarms are online. They should be heading back soon.”
Crosshair sucks in a breath, worried about seeing his own emotions sitting behind Hunter’s eyes as well.
...
You were assigned to assist the Bad Batch for an unspecified period of time some months ago. You’re a versatile field agent, specialising in both stealth and combat casualty care, one of the few volunteers who were qualified enough to join the GAR. Oh, and you’re also clearly mistrusted by your new squad as they flip out the very moment you risk yourself in the line of duty. You’re not stupid, you weighed the risks carefully, and you trusted your abilities to see you through the job unharmed.
But ever since the incident on Bracca, you’re given the cold shoulder by most on the squad, and for once, the scenery matches your mood.
And yet Tech deserves better than to be cut off like that. He deserves to be listened to, and appreciated as the good man he is. You’re friends, but in moments like these, you think you don’t deserve his friendship.
“Look, I’m... I’m sorry, okay? But right now, I have too much on my mind to think about, umm, chemo...”
“Chemosynthesis?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I think I understand,” he nods, satisfied with your half-assed apology for the time being as he goes back to scanning the vast icy desert stretching as far as the eye can see. The Marauder’s lights blink in the background, orange against the dark blue of the growing darkness that surrounds you. It’s like a beacon, a sign that promises warmth, and you gaze at it longingly until you remember that you’ll have to go back to Crosshair’s scowl and Hunter’s disapproving frown and Wrecker’s awkward little smiles. Somehow, the ice is preferable once more, and the snow that just began to fall in soft flakes is little more than a mild annoyance.
“Well, aside from a few distant life forms-”
“Whitefangs.”
“Yes, most likely whitefangs - aside from those, we should be quite safe inside the ship for tonight.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “You might be. I’m not the most popular with the squad right now, remember?”
“You are a valued addition,” Tech declares, and the certainty in his voice releases inside you the emotional equivalent of a sucker punch. All you can do is stand, and fight the sting of tears in your eyes. You’re confident, but you never in your wildest dreams imagined how difficult it would be to live up to the expectations of a special unit. You also know your worth, but it’s hard to keep on believing in yourself steadfastly when the rest of your squad doubts your every move. “Which is why the prospect of losing you elicits a rather severe emotional reaction in us. It is rare for regs to warm up to us as well as you have, let alone volunteers. Aside from the obvious tactical disadvantage losing you would mean, I believe it is a little more personal than that.”
...
Hunter knows something is off even before one of the alarms is triggered - whatever it is, it is within five clicks of the ship, making you and Tech plenty exposed before he could do anything. He was straining his ear simply to keep you all safe - so what if he accidentally heard your muffled voice, or the soft crunch of snow underneath your boots?
But now is not the time to be idle, and he knows it. He would never forgive himself if something happened to his squad. And to you, he corrects himself almost softly as he grabs his helmet and checks his weapons quickly. Despite the fact that he’s still angry about your previous carelessness, he cannot deny the forbidden yearning coiling in his stomach whenever you’re on his mind, making him just as nervous as hopeful. And to be fair, it happens more and more often as of late, which is both alarming and exciting as he never thought he’d ever have the luxury to feel this way about someone else. Sure, he knows love, he loves his brothers with all his heart even if he isn’t very vocal about it, but this is different. New, scary, exciting different, an effervescent and persevering tingling blinding all his senses.
Crosshair is beside him in less than a second, rifle in hand, silent, and they share a nod before lowering the ramp and rushing out into the freezing dusk.
When he picks up on your muffled voice, he seems to ignore everything as he breaks into a sprint towards you, hoping to reach you in time before you’re in danger. He almost misses the way Crosshair’s heartbeat picks up, the usually stoic man reeking with genuine worry as he looks through the scope of his rifle.
He can deal with this later, Hunter promises himself as he pushes down this uncomfortable feeling. But then he sees you and Tech, and he seems to forget about anything and everything - you have that unfortunate and awfully distracting effect on him.
...
“But Hunter yelled at me for being reckless for a solid hour. And Crosshair said he didn’t care if I wanted to get myself killed, but I should do it in a way that didn’t interfere with the mission. Seriously, what an asshole.”
“Nevermind what they actually say,” Tech waves his hand in mild annoyance. “Hunter was worried sick. Crosshair almost went after you. And they’re both too pigheaded to admit the real reason why they’re so worked up.”
“Which is?”
“Obviously they both view you as a potential romantic partner.”
There’s a moment of pause as you two stare back at one another before you snort and chuckle, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest as a futile attempt at staying warm. “Tech, you need to work on your sense of humour.”
“And you need to work on your observational skills and situational awareness.”
“My observational skills are exceptional,” you defend yourself, a finger held up in the air defiantly. “And my situational awareness is-”
“Lacking, as you didn’t seem to notice the whitefang return. I suggest we head back to the safety of the Marauder.”
Sure enough, the wild cat is there lurking amongst the ice dunes, its eyes glowing in the dark as they reflect the light of the ship. It shouldn’t pose a threat to you as it is alone, and relatively small, but you still consider wrestling with it instead of returning to the ship and facing the rest of the squad - somehow, even that feels like a fight more fair than the ones that await you upon your return. So you hold its gaze as it curiously inspects you, wishing to swap bodies and run away and avoid any more conflict. Before you can even think of returning to the ship, you hear quiet footsteps catching up to you.
“I thought I heard something.”
“It’s probably more curious than anything.”
Hunter unsheaths his vibroblade and twirls it in his hand so theatrically it makes you roll your eyes. He glances at you, shoulders all tense, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of danger, and even though his face is obscured by his helmet, you can almost see the disappointed frown sitting on his features. “You want to test that theory?”
“My money would be on the whitefang winning.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Tech.”
“Any time.”
“Relax.” The distorted rasp of your commlink is not enough to drown out the smugness of the sniper. The stand-off ends when a single well-placed shot right before the big cat sends it sprinting away into the darkness. You all turn to find Crosshair standing by the ship, his rifle still aimed at the retreating form of the whitefang.
“Well, there goes my opportunity to finally have an interesting patrol,” you mutter to yourself as you all make it back to the Marauder.
“Do all of your patrols end in you staring down carnivores?” Crosshair snorts, clearly unamused.
“Only the good ones,” you fire back, deciding not to wait for any of them as you head inside. Crosshair is hot on your heels, another string of mockery sitting on the tip of his tongue, because fuck, you’re stubborn, but he’s not going to cave in and tell you how it makes him feel to see you in danger. He can’t, however, put up with being away from you either.
Hunter lingers a little outside. He has to set himself straight, to contain all the things he wants to say you that have nothing to do with scolding you about Bracca, to kill all the feelings that suddenly demand to be felt so desperately. He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, pretending to survey the surroundings of the Marauder. Tech moves in the periphery of his vision, but instead of following you and Crosshair, he steps closer to Hunter.
“I believe the threat’s been averted.”
“Yeah. Good job on setting up those alarms, Tech.”
“No problem. Is there anything else you need?”
“No. You should head back inside. The last thing I want is for you to keel over with hypothermia.”
“That’s not how hypothermia works,” Tech mutters, his voice trailing off, eyes uncertain behind his goggles. He suddenly places a gentle hand on Hunter’s shoulder, making the sergeant glance at him.
“Hunter, I’m only asking this because I care about you all, but... how long do you think this can go on before one of you gets hurt?”
Tech’s words echo in his mind long after he’s rejoined the squad on the ship. And Hunter just stands outside in the snowfall, watching the last rays of light disappear on the horizon, wondering which one of you he’ll have to hurt when the push comes to shove.
273 notes · View notes
mellowswriting · 3 years
Text
Nightmare
Tumblr media
pairing || Bucky Barnes x Reader
summary || Bucky struggles to calm down after a particularly rough nightmare - it’s a good thing you’re there to lend him a hand.
word count || 1,799
warnings || hurt and comfort, love confessions
a/n || So I started writing this before the first episode of The Falcon and The Winter Soldier even came out (because I’m incorrigible) so if it’s a little off, that’s why. As someone who’s gone through all that fun trauma-based therapy, seeing Bucky working on himself is validating as fuck. I tried to emphasize that while a good relationship can help after trauma, it doesn’t complete the healing process or suddenly make a person whole. Anyway, enjoy!
Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!
Tumblr media
“Bucky?” Your voice cracked, still thick with sleep. “Why are you on the floor?”
“I…” Bucky started but his words failed him. He couldn’t find a way to tell you about it without feeling like he was gutting himself, without bringing the images right back up to torment him all over again. The vulnerability left him trembling, dog tags clinking quietly against his bare chest with every heaving breath.
But he didn’t need to say it. You just nodded and sat down next to him on the blanket he had spread out on the hard floor. Remnants still prickled at the back of his neck, images and echoes of gunfire and that wide open emptiness that cracked his chest on every mission, but he got some small peace from your presence. He felt just a bit safer at the feeling of your knee pressed to his lightly. You didn’t probe him about it, didn’t try to weasel out details, and he was thankful. Instead you offered him your hand and in turn, offered your quiet support, and he gratefully slid his fingers up your palm to curl with your own.
The pressure of your fingers holding him was grounding, kept him in the reality of what was actually happening around him. He wasn’t in that building. He didn’t have a gun in his hand. He wasn’t trapped behind a wall in his own mind. He was at home, sitting cross-legged on his living room floor. He held your hand in his, the softness of your skin against his a sharp contrast to the imagined bite of gunmetal.
He was right there. So were you.
Your thumb slid up and down over his as you tentatively started speaking. “I used to click my tongue to keep myself grounded after nightmares.”
Bucky glanced at you, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“Yeah, I know it seems silly, but it worked for me more often than not.” You said with a small chuckle. “Sometimes I would have to tap if the clicking thing wasn’t working. It drove Tony crazy. He always said he could hear it all throughout the compound, but I think he was bullshitting. And if the tapping didn’t work, I would do sprints until my legs couldn’t hold me up anymore.”
Bucky took a long, deep breath the way his therapist taught him during their first session. Your voice was so calming. “Keep talking?”
“Of course.” You murmured. “It’s cheesy as hell, but they do get easier to deal with. The nightmares, I mean. The more you work at it, the less… vivid they are. I still get pretty bad ones every now and then, but even those are a little easier to come down from.”
“I hope you’re right.” He said.
“Well, you’re in therapy - even if it’s mandatory, you’re still showing up. Still putting in the effort. You’re sleeping semi-regularly, eating somewhat healthy. Trust me, you’re doing better than you realize. It takes a minute for you to ease out of survival mode, so it can be hard to tell how far you’ve already come.” You squeezed his hand lightly. “I’m proud of you, Bucky.”
A breath caught in his chest as he turned to look at you where you leaned your head back against the wall. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Well, you did save me from getting shot that one time.” You teased and Bucky laughed quietly, a genuine one that seemed to surprise you. “But seriously. You’re a good person, that’s all you have to do.”
“No, I’m not.” The laugh turned self-deprecating. “I don’t have to tell you that, either. I know you’ve read the files.”
“That wasn’t you. That was Hydra.” Your free hand pressed against his bare chest, right over his heart. “This is you. You aren’t what they put in your head. You’re the person who went out and bought me a new coffeemaker in the middle of the night when mine broke so I wouldn’t have to go without caffeine the next morning. You’re the person who's mowed Mrs. Franklin’s yard twice a month since her husband passed. You’re the person who is working their ass off to get better.”
There weren’t words. He didn’t have them, the ones that could tell you how much he appreciated you, how much you meant to him. So he covered the hand you placed on his chest with his own, wishing he could actually feel you, but the prosthetic had its limitations with the enhancements given by the vibranium. You nodded at him, a quiet acknowledgement of his thanks.
Silence fell over you both. It was a comfortable one, not the heavy, oppressive silence that curled around him in the moments after waking. Your hand fell away from his chest, much to his disappointment. The skin against skin was comforting. A moment later you shifted onto your knees, ready to stand and seemingly leave him there, and Bucky tightened his grip on your hand instinctually.
“Please… don’t go.” His voice was small.
“I’m just going to get you some water. I’ll be right back, I promise.”
And you did. You returned less than a minute later and handed him a glass of cool water, watching him take a few sips until you were satisfied, and then stole a sip for yourself. Bucky couldn’t help the small smile that found him at the sight as you settled back in next to him and offered him your hand once more. He took it, but didn’t interlock your fingers like before. Instead he lifted your hand to his face and pressed your palm against his cheek, eyes falling closed at your cool skin against his warmth. Your thumb rubbed small circles along his cheekbone and when he opened his eyes again, you were looking at him almost thoughtfully. Impulsively, Bucky tilted his head slightly and kissed the delicate skin of your wrist and he could hear your breath stutter in your chest.
“Bucky…” You whispered, worry suddenly played across your features.
“I talk about you in therapy, you know.” He whispered, his heart jumping in his chest at the prospect of telling you about it, admitting his vulnerability. “I told her about how you make me feel… seen. And safe. I told her about how I always think about you. About… kissing you. And making you laugh.”
You swallowed, the sound louder in the resounding silence of three a.m confessions. “And what did she say?”
“That she could tell I was in love with you before I would even admit it to myself.” He whispered the words as if breathing them to life would make the very earth crumble at his feet.
“I couldn't live with myself if I got in the way of your healing.” You said and his heart soared in his chest. You weren't rejecting him, weren't pulling away in disgust or fear. No, you were putting his needs first - or rather, what you perceived his needs to be.
“Part of my healing is supposed to be building relationships, you know.” There was a small smile on his face at the very thought of it - of falling asleep and waking next to you each morning, of finally getting to kiss and touch you like he craved for so long.
“So… we take it slow?” You said and Bucky watched your eyes flick down to his lips before meeting his gaze again, your body leaning closer as if drawn in by the very gravity that held you to the earth.
“Yeah, we take…” Bucky leaned in, meeting you halfway, your lips a hairsbreadth apart. “...it…” You brushed your nose against his gently and he sighed contentedly, eyes finally falling closed. “...slow…”
The first press of your lips to his was soft. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time, the simple pleasure of a kiss, and the fact that it was you only made it all the better. He relaxed against you, pulling you closer by a hand on your waist and angling himself to deepen the kiss. Your gasp against his lips was addictive, something he could happily spend the rest of his life seeking out.
A shudder ran down Bucky’s spine at the feeling of your hand sliding up from his cheek to tangle in his hair, the short cropped style barely enough for you to grab onto. Fuck, you felt so good, he could lose himself in you without regret, could drown in the bliss that washed over him and -
He pulled away gently, offering one last peck against your lips as a parting gift, and pressed his forehead to yours to catch his breath, to calm himself down. He had to go slow and going slow decidedly was not dragging you onto his living room floor and finally letting his hands roam underneath your soft pajamas. You chuckled quietly and that was what got him to lean back and look at you again, dumbstruck by the dazed, happy look on your face.
“You’re good at that,” You whispered, earning you a bashful laugh.
“So are you.” Bucky sighed, the heavy weight of sleepiness gathering at his shoulders. “I need to try to go back to sleep… join me?”
“I think this floor would kill my back, sweetheart.” You teased and holy shit, his heart soared in his chest.
Sweetheart. He was your sweetheart.
“I was thinking we could share my bed, but if you’re gonna tease me -”
“Don’t even finish that sentence, Barnes.” You surprised him with another kiss before climbing to your feet, your hand reaching out to pull him up with you.
He couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight of you climbing into his bed, settling right into his rumpled sheets and looking up at him expectantly. He wasn’t going to leave you waiting, not when he finally got you right where he wanted you. You yawned as you brought him closer to lay his head against your chest and he melted right into you. Bucky curled his arm around your middle, effectively bringing your bodies completely flush against each other.
“You’re so warm, Buck.” You mumbled, sleepiness already warping your voice.
Bucky just hummed, his own exhaustion finally seeping back into his body now that the remnants of paranoid tension eased away at the steady sound of your heartbeat reverberating against his ear. Your hand rested against the top of his head to tease at his hair once more, and it was that gentle affection that had his eyes falling closed. At peace for the moment, his mind let him fall back into sleep, knowing that when the nightmares inevitably found him once more, he would have you there to help guide him back to where he belonged.
Right in your arms.
447 notes · View notes
stopisa · 3 years
Text
Into the Ashes
Tumblr media
jotaro kujo x reader (747 words)
a/n: highkey recycling this from my ao3 hoping it'll get a bit more attention here. anyways jotaro is my #1 comfort character, i wrote this like 3 years ago;;;;;;
tags: smoking, sad talk, mentions of mental health and therapy, crying, SAD SHIT, happy ending
Tumblr media
He found himself in this position far too many times: sitting outside on the front porch at 2 in the morning, taking long, empty drags from his cigarette.
I guess one would say it was another one of 'those' nights, where he was so restless from the overwhelming stress and nightmares that just so happen to reoccur every fucking night. But the crashing waves helped calm his nerves, drowning out the voices in his head and replacing them with inaudible words of reassurance. He always had an affinity for the ocean. Jotaro stared at the scenery before him, his cigarette finishing up, he put it out on the ashtray on the small table beside him; joining the others from the same evening. He never understood why he picked up smoking in the first place.
He walked back inside the quiet home to get a glass of water from the kitchen. He then glanced at a picture of himself with you during college on the refrigerator. It may not seem like it, but meeting someone like you had changed him in the best way possible. Yet he questioned why he kept having nights like this if you’re always there loving and caring for him. Even at his worst, you were there for him.
Jotaro walked inside the bedroom quietly, only to find you awake, staring at the ceiling.
“Hey, thought you’d be up. Finish your date with your Newports?” you said while sitting up.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. Really trying to quit.” he replied.
“No, it’s fine. It's not like this is the third time this week. Just know that if you need to talk, I’m here for you...I don't mind being woken up, I prefer that rather than an empty spot by my side.” Jotaro couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes in the dark, moon-lit room.
He sighed and began approaching the bed, sitting down on the edge, looking at the floor. He then heard a sniffle. He jerked his head over to your face, seeing the tears fall off your face. Fuck. Seeing this made his heart sink, it’s his fault that you’re feeling this way. Jotaro was getting better at coming home on time from the lab, greeting you with a small kiss or a lingering hug. He knew he wasn’t the best at showing signs of affection but he was trying his best, you knew this too. But his times of withdrawal where he didn’t talk to you, sitting outside and smoking through a pack, or locking himself in his study were what killed you the most. Self-destruction radiating from those four walls. Feeling as if he doesn't deserve what he has received in life. You understood that he’s still haunted by the events that happened in that fateful year and how it affected him through much of his late teens and early 20s, so you have welcomed him to open up and talk to you since he’s always complaining about how stupid and worthless therapy was, going through three therapists alone.
Giving you a genuine look of worry, he turned toward you and opened up his arms, and being such a rare invitation you accepted it, feeling the warmth of his large arms made you feel safe as if there was a bubble to protect you from the world and all of its evils. Hoping you could do the same for him. He buried his face in your hair, breathing in softly, stroking your back while you lay against his chest, hearing every passing heartbeat.
“Sorry might mean nothing now, yet you’re still here with me. I could never bring to forgive myself for making you cry. You don't deserve this, all this emotional baggage, it's not fair. You’ve been so patient with me. Why haven’t you left me yet?” Jotaro said while staring at the wall behind you.
“Don’t be stupid, why would I leave you? I'm sorry you have to continue going this, but you don't always have to be alone. You just need to understand that you have somebody who’s there for you, to pick you up when you fall down.”
His ocean blue eyes stared into your own, those were the same words he told you after a rough patch you went through during the last year of your undergrad. Lifting his hand to stroke your cheek, his lips curl into a soft smile. You to move to kiss him, reminding him that he’ll never be alone again. You're willing to do it as many times as it takes to ensure he doesn't forget.
68 notes · View notes
moralesispunk · 3 years
Text
Content
Frankie Morales x Female Reader (no name, use of Y/N or physical description) Summary: On Will’s wedding day, Frankie reflects on his perfect, little family with you.
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: I am back from my holiday! I will be back to posting more regularly now and have started on my fisherman! Frankie fic which will begin soon while also working on the next caramel latte chapter!
Man, stop fixing your tie, it's fine!
Has anyone seen my cufflinks?
Do you have the rings?
I thought you had them?
What? I told you to lift them!
Wait... yeah they're in my pocket.
There was an organised chaos humming around the large hotel room that was suddenly feeling a lot smaller with the four men ransaking around as they prepared for the day ahead. Black tux jackets being swapped from man to man, hands reaching to straighten ties and bow-ties, the occasional hand running down a face when someone shouts out the time.
To be completely honest, none of them, least of all Will, thought this day would arrive. That somehow after all the shit that went down in South America he would end up in the same supermarket as his ex-fiance who caught him standing in front of the cereal aisle for five minutes, his head the noisiest yet quietest it had ever been. She took him to a coffee shop and listened as he told her everything that had gone wrong before giving him her number should he need to talk again. After seeing her it was the kick he needed to go to therapy and reevaluate his life, eventually finding the confidence to pick up the phone and ask her on a date.
Now, just over a year later, he was standing in a hotel room with his brothers in arms and  preparing to wait at the end of the aisle for the love of his life. He was surprisingly panicked, something the rest of the guys had never seen before even on the toughest missions. Pope was trying to lighten the mood as he poured some of those tiny bottles of whiskey and tequila into glasses before passing them out while Benny had lost and found the rings three times now. But Frankie?
Frankie was watching silently from the corner, texting you to check that you and the kids were ready and on your way. After the text had been delivered he placed his phone inside his tux pocket, sighing when his eyes locked on his panicked friend. He pushed off from the wall and walked over to Will, placing steady hands on his friend’s shaking shoulders.
“I’m going to tell you what you told me the morning of my wedding,” Frankie’s unwavering voice suddenly quietened the room, “do you deserve that woman who will be walking down the aisle to you in less than an hour? Probably not. But does she love you more than anyone else in the world despite all the fucked up shit you’ve seen and done? Hell yeah. And do you love her?”
“More than anything,” Will sighed.
“Yeah you do,” Frankie took his hands from his friend’s shoulders and patted him on the back, “so let’s finish getting ready and then you can go make her your wife so you can be the best goddamn husband.”
The now calm room was a lot easier to get ready in, all four men looking in the mirror for one last check before heading to the door. As they walked to the elevator Frankie’s phone pinged and he took it out of the pocket to silence it before checking the text.
Just at the church now. Sofia was finally convinced to swap the Cinderella dress for the flower girl one and baby girl is still asleep, let’s hope it stays that way for the ceremony.
Frankie smiled down at his phone, leaning forward to press the elevator button for the ground floor before texting back.
My Mom will pick them up later and then we can enjoy the free bar:)
The text bubbles were already popping up and he waited for your response.
Are you trying to get me drunk Mr Morales?
Well, while I’m sure you look beautiful in that dress I will tell you I can’t wait to get it off you tonight ;)
Frankie! I’m in a church!
Frankie chuckled as the elevator bell rang again and it opened to the hotel lobby, now a lot quieter than it had been with all the guests already at the church that was attached to the side of the hotel.
Just heading over now, baby. See you soon.
It was barely a two minute walk to the church, quiet as the other three men let their friend sort his head up before the most important day of his life. The peace was disrupted with the church doors opening, the chatter halting for a moment as the heads turned and landed on Will and they followed him down the aisle. 
Frankie’s eyes immediately landed on you, one of your hands balancing your eldest daughter who was bouncing on the pew seat while the other held your youngest to your chest. He paused as he reached your row, leaning across and giving a kiss to Sofia’s cheek and the top of baby girl’s head before finding your lips.
“You look... beautiful,” he whispered.
“And you look very handsome,” you whispered back as he stood up.
Frankie winked at you before following his brothers to the front of the church. It was a quick blur as they settled and the music began, notifying everyone of the bride’s soon to be arrival. At some point not long after the ceremony began, Frankie’s mind wandered back to his own wedding day four years ago.
He remembered how sick with nerves he felt the morning of until you started your walk down the aisle to him. You looked beautiful as you do everyday but now, with the air an official of commitment between you both, his heart faltered. He remembers every single word shared between you both, how you wiped his tears away with your thumb as he stuttered through his vows, how wide you smiled when you were pronounced husband and wife before biting your lip and leaning forward for your first kiss as a married couple.
His eyes moved up to find you again. You were whispering something in Sofia’s ear, your arm around her shoulder and keeping her close against your side with the baby tight against your chest and your arm slightly rocking to keep her asleep. 
It was at this moment that a wave of contentness washed over him; looking at his perfect, little family that had brought him back from the darkest point in his life. His wife still looked at him with the same love and adoration as she did on their own wedding day. His eldest daughter looked at him like he could slay every monster and dragon like the ones in her storybooks, and he would if it meant she would be safe. His youngest always settled quickly in his arms, like those same hands hadn’t killed and hurt before.
Your eyes flicked up to meet his, a small smile finding your lips. You mouthed those three words that you say to each other every day, which he returned knowing no one in the church was focused on him.
He had never felt the calmness that he was feeling in this moment before. For the first time he felt that somehow he maybe deserved the life that he had because no matter what he had done, in the army or on the grey legal area missions him and the guys had done since retirement, he loved the three of you more than anyone else would and he could protect you better than anyone else could. 
Now, with his three beautiful girls happy and healthy and safe, he knew what real contentness felt like.
//
Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @queridopascal @sfr99 @rosiefridayrogersunday
108 notes · View notes
cinnoasch · 3 years
Note
I just had an idea, Akechi with an S/O (their not dating yet) and they have a toxic boyfriend and when Akechi meets him he just thinks, "guess i have one more target" and he tries the hardest to keep up the Detective Prince facade in front of this guy because he's just filled with so much rage at this one man.
A/N: Ohoho, I love this idea. I had an idea for a bad ending of sorts, but let me know if any one wants that ending as well. Thank you Anon and hope you enjoyed! And hopefully this turned out alright!
C/W: Toxic relationship on/off, slight cursing, angst(?)
Word Count: 1885
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hostile Third-Wheel (Goro Akechi x Reader)
“You look upset Y/N. Did something happen?” Akechi asks, looking up from his paperwork when he notices your expression.
You let out an annoyed sigh, waving your phone in the air as you sit across from him. “My boyfriend. He accidentally reserved a table for 3 for our date tonight and being the stubborn lazy ass he is, refuses to call the restaurant to change it. He told me to invite a friend.”
“On your date?”
“Mhm, and he said...” You say as you hear your notification ring. “To preferably bring a girl... ‘Just kidding, winky face.’“
“He sounds like quite the charmer. And you can’t change the reservation yourself?”
“You know how the restaurants are, they rather have the person who did the reservation to change it.”
“You do make a valid point. Well then, how about inviting me?”
You look at Akechi in surprise. “You want to tag along on my date? Wouldn’t you just feel like a third wheel?”
Akechi smiles lightly, “Well, I guess I would feel like somewhat of a third wheel, but I have never met your boyfriend. I’d like to know what your taste in significant others is like.”
“Not funny. But I will say, it hasn’t been... the best. I think I really... got it this time.”
Akechi noticed the hesitation on your face and in your words but he didn’t mention it. He knew the many heartbreaks you had been through, although he never met any of your previous significant others. He was the one that you called during those nights, hearing your crying and hoarse voice as you explained how you recently were dumped. While it hurt more for you than him, Akechi could not help but feel upset. He may be the only one who harbored feelings between the two of you, but even if you did not return those feelings; he’d still be there for you no matter what.
“Anyways, I am allowed to join you two right? Your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“Not at all. He says he’s fine with it. So see you tonight at 7? It’s the one restaurant near Seaside Park in Odaiba.”
"Ah, I’ve been there on occasion. If I remember correctly, you often frequented the restaurant with your previous significant others. You know if you keep bringing them to the same restaurant for dates, it’s not as special as it seems.”
“I know, I know. I guess I just stick with what I’m comfortable with. Any who, see you tonight!” You say with a wave as you take your leave from Akechi’s apartment.
When you close the door behind you, your smile fades. You had been through this too many times before. You knew what was going to happen tonight. And after tonight, the cycle would repeat itself just like it always had for the past few months.
------------------------------
“So, this friend of yours, is Goro Akechi?” your boyfriend asks as you two walk the path heading to the restaurant.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“No particular reason. I just hope you don’t think about leaving me for him. We’ve been through this enough times, so you know the drill. We always come back to each other.”
“I know... the thought never crossed my mind.”
“Not even once?” They ask, tilting your face towards them.
“Not even once.”
“Good.” Your boyfriend removes his hand and opens the door for you. “Let’s keep it that way then.”
You sigh quietly, straightening out your clothes as you walk through the door. You never knew why you always got your hopes up. Breaking things off and getting back together was what your relationship was. You knew from the start that the relationship wasn’t good, but you always found yourself drawn back. You always questioned why this was the way that things were. Were you just content with any type of love? Even if it was the worst kind? Or were you just denying the fact that you could never have anything better than this?
You feel your arm being tugged as you look up to see your boyfriend trying to move you along to the table.
“C’mon, your friend’s waiting.”
You give a nod as you walk to the table with your boyfriend. Akechi waves with a smile when he sees you two, and stands up from his seat.
“Hope you weren’t waiting long, Akechi.” You say with a small smile.
“Not at all. So this is your boyfriend? I’m Goro Akechi, pleased to meet you.” He says holding his hand out for a handshake.
Your boyfriend introduces himself, lightly shaking Akechi’s hand as he does. The three of you sit down at the table and decide what to order before starting a conversation.
“So, how long have you two been dating?” Akechi asks. A small smile graces his face, however he was staring intently at your boyfriend. You noticed that your boyfriend did whisper something to Akechi earlier while they were introducing themselves, so you were somewhat concerned.
You’re about to answer but your boyfriend slings an arm around you with a grin. “Y/N and I have been dating for a few months now.”
“A few months? Is that so? Y/N told me they’ve had a few other significant others within the past few months.”
“Ah, that’s them trying to save face. Y/N and I have a sort of on/off relationship. They just can’t get enough of me so they always come crawling back.”
Akechi glances at you but quickly turns his gaze back to your boyfriend. “Really now? How peculiar, you don’t see those quite often anymore.”
“I guess not, but guess we’re just made for each other.”
Akechi only nods in agreement, his fists were clenched underneath the table. Was he upset that you lied? Yes. But the thing that bothered him the most was your boyfriend. He could immediately tell that your boyfriend was bad news when he saw you two walking up to the restaurant. How he had that condescending look on his face when he talked to you, his words just now, implying that you couldn’t do any better than him. It made Akechi’s blood boil.
It seems that I have a new target to take care of.
Soon the waiter comes and takes your orders, silence filling the air for a few seconds until your boyfriend speaks up.
“So, Akechi. You’re that Detective Prince that’s always on TV right?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
You twirl your straw in your drink, already knowing the question that would pop up.
“You must have a lot of fans, right? All those girls surrounding you must be nice.”
“Well, fans are expected, although all of the attention can be a bit much at times.”
“Ya don’t have to lie, you must love the attention right? Though I’m surprised you aren’t dating someone yourself. You could get any girl.”
“I suppose. But I bet if you were in my shoes, you’d relish in the attention wouldn’t you? You strike me as the type of guy who... sleeps around I would say.”
You shoot Akechi a look, but he only dismisses it with a smile and laughs. “Aha, I apologize. What am I doing asking those sorts of questions with Y/N here?”
Your boyfriend chuckles, “Oh, Y/N doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, babe?”
“Like hell I don’t.”
“Oh come on, Akechi’s just joking around.”
Akechi grins, “Well... it seems my deduction was correct. You are that type of guy. Truly despicable. Y/N deserves much better than you, don’t you think?”
Your boyfriend stands up angrily, “What the hell are you trying to say?”
“Other than you’re a piece of shit?”
You stand up next, “Alright, let’s all calm down now. Akechi, a word?”
Your boyfriend sits back down, crossing his arms as you take Akechi to the side to talk to him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who’s forcing yourself to be in a relationship with that dumbass over there.”
“Who I date is none of your business.”
“It is my business. Who’s the one who has called me every time crying because they got dumped? What’s even worse is that you do nothing to get yourself out of it.”
“Who says I haven’t tried?”
“Y/N. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve actually tried to get out of your relationship.”
You clench your hands, unable to look Akechi in the eye. Who were you kidding? You had simply accepted how things were going to be between you and your boyfriend. An on and off relationship that only hurt you.
Akechi sighs. “Look, I’m only saying these things because I care about you. And if you won’t break it off, I’ll do it for you.”
The look in Akechi’s eyes told you that he was dead serious. Yet, there was some hint of malicious intent behind his words. Would Akechi really turn to violence to break things off between you and your boyfriend? Well, that question wasn’t needed since you were made aware of Akechi’s hostile side.
“Fine. I’ll break it off. Just give me some time.”
“Hmmm, no. Do it now.”
You glare at Akechi. “Now? Are you crazy?”
“Like I said if you don’t, I will. And my methods are much worse than a simple ‘I’m breaking up with you’.”
You only nod, not wanting to barter with Akechi any longer, and walk back to the table where your boyfriend sat. When he sees you walking back, he stands up with a smile. “So, did you tell Akechi off? Ha, I bet the look on his face was priceless.”
“Actually no. I’m breaking up with you.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’m tired of this, me staying loyal for some piece of shit boyfriend who sleeps around. I’m done with you.”
“You bitch!” He raises his hand to slap you but Akechi appears behind you and grabs his wrist forcefully.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Your now, ex-boyfriend looks at Akechi in fear. You didn’t want to turn around because you were sure that the look Akechi was giving this guy was one that could kill.
“Now, if you would please lower your hand once I let go.”
Your ex-boyfriend only nods and once Akechi lets go of his wrist he bolts out of the restaurant.
You let out a sigh of relief as you turn to face Akechi. “Thank you for that. I guess a push was all I needed.”
“Not a problem. But if I may ask Y/N, why did you put up with it? The Y/N I know would normally break it off immediately when it became that type of relationship.”
You chuckle a bit sadly as you seat yourself back in your chair. “You know, I thought so too. But eventually, it just became a cycle. My thoughts started to invade my mind, telling me that that type of relationship was the best that I could handle. That it couldn’t and wouldn’t get any better. I’m pathetic aren’t I?”
“Your taste in S/O’s could be considered pathetic I suppose.”
“Low blow, but I’ll take it.”
“Well you did need to hear it. Anyways, I think we can salvage this failed date somewhat. What do you say Y/N?”
“Sure, why not.”
163 notes · View notes