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sysmedsaresexist · 24 days

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Changing mindsets, from a Real Anti Endo™️

The Release of the (Pro/Endo) Golden Goose

I hope everyone from all sides will give this important, heartfelt post a read.

It's likely something you'll want to be aware of if you have a vested interest in syscourse and the validity of endogenic systems. Please give this a chance.

It's been almost three years since I started my blogs. Wow. I've been on tumblr a hell of a lot longer, but I really wasn't involved in the system community. I started out firm and loud. I probably inadvertently fakeclaimed (I went into this with the rule that I would NOT directly tell anyone they were faking, it was a boundary that I knew would ruin me socially if I crossed it, but I'm sure I probably did without meaning to), I name called and made fun of people and things. I was disrespectful to people. I invaded tags to get my message out there, though I was quick to stop once I realized I was making the tags unusable for the community I claimed to want to protect.

I learned very quickly what was appropriate and what wasn't, what I could get away with and what I couldn't. It started to become a numbers game, influenced by the risk of the post.

I made a lot of friends and a lot of enemies, and I amassed a following of over 2k. More people have come and gone from my little community than I ever thought possible. People made fanart of me, and I cherish those so deeply. I have over 300 asks because I struggle to delete the ones thanking me.

And the more I was thanked, the nicer I got, the more thanks, the nicer I got, rinse and repeat until I had trouble NOT empathizing with pro/endos. The more I was willing to listen, the more legitimate sources I came across that disproved my original ideas about consciousness. The people sharing the sources were more respectful than I thought they'd be. Things were starting to look a bit cloudy.

I talked to my colleagues about how they, as therapists, would handle some of these endos in their practice, and while their belief in the concept varied, kindness and attempts to understand was the consistent answer. When had I lost that kindness and understanding that had driven me to that field to begin with?

Colleagues, yes. For those who don't know, I have a degree in social services and counselling (plus three other degrees). It's why the current situation with the antis turning on me is so funny. I still can't get into the mindset of some of these new anti endos, I just can't imagine justifying that level of cruelty. I had lines that I wouldn't cross, and I didn't think people could be worse than me.

... That might have been a trauma thing, looking back on it.

So I got desperate.

I spoke to the actual doctors who wrote some of these papers all of us are quoting. Everyone was arguing the meaning of the words, so I went directly to the source.

Dr Colin Ross, who wrote about endogenous multiplicity in the 80s. I told him everything-- about plurals, non-traumagenic systems, syscourse, what was being debated, how I and others interpreted his words, and what I wanted to learn.

Was plurality only trauma based?

And back and forth and back and forth we went, with me asking over and over again in different ways, NEEDING to hear that it was.

But I never got that answer. He meant what he meant. He said what he said and he meant it.

That plurality was not only found in the aftermath of trauma.

And I said nothing to anyone because I couldn't reconcile it.

Don't try to read between the lines, I assure you, there isn't some hidden meaning to be found there. I can't share all of the messages because some contained personal information, but my final response will tell you all you need to know.

(It did NOT, in fact, make sense, and it took me three years to "rethink my paper" that endogenic plurality wasn't possible, I did not win that conversation, it was a dying stance that was not supported)

I've been accused of paying too much attention to my follower count, but I can't really help it. It's really scary when you make a post and see a sizeable drop. It means a lot of different things. My posts have less reach and support. I've upset people. I've done something wrong. My community is leaving me.

I'm in a weird spot, where I'm blocked by so much of the pro/endo community that I have nothing to join, and the anti endo community, who I still wholeheartedly support, continues to leave me for -checks smudged writing on hand- being too nice??

Misinformation about DID is a massive problem, and it's why I still consider myself anti endo and support that community. I relate to them in such a way that I'll always gravitate to and empathize with them.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

At this point, though, how can I not be pro/endo when Colin fucking Ross says it's possible?

I've already written about how I'm really struggling with these labels, and I love the people that have stuck around while I struggle to figure this out.

I hurt when I see the people that once supported me leave.

My (online) world is shrinking. Literally.

That's scary.

When you've watched so many turn away, you start to wonder, with every post, where is the line where the rest are going to leave? Is it this post?

I just want to be me, us, we want to laugh at the stupid crap people say, system or not, I want to talk about my disorder, I want to combat misinformation, I want to have productive, fun conversations about ideas and concepts with people who disagree and have different interpretations. I want to play devil's advocate and get people thinking. I want to be able to comment positivity and kindness on any post I see, I want to feel comfortable talking to more people about their ideas. I sympathize with anti endos, I relate to CDD systems, I still firmly believe that CDDs and plurality are different, unrelated concepts.

My priority will always and forever be the CDD community first and foremost.

However, I am a hypocrite. I have gone straight to the horse's mouth and failed. I've seen so much research that I finally get it. I'm grappling with holding on to this conversation with Dr Ross, wondering what harm I could have prevented if I'd gone public with these emails earlier.

Since when has being open to change been a bad thing?

Since when has showing respect to lived experiences been a bad thing?

What am I? What label describes this?

How do I go forward from here?

What are you going to do with this information?

I promise you, hate isn't the way forward.

#syscourse #not syscourse #pro syscourse conversation #anti endo #pro endo #anti plural #pro plural #debunk #endogenic safe #system safe #pro system

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saetoru · 2 years

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#TOP OF THE CLASS! — GETO SUGURU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ geto + virgin killing - your TA is nice, and more importantly, handsome. accidentally sending him nudes makes you realise he's also inexperienced

♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!

♱ pairing ⋮ college TA! geto suguru x student! reader

♱ length ⋮ 5.5k words (she tried okay. she did)

♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, college! au, TA! geto, student! reader, med! student shoko, forging of legal documents (shoko forges you a doctor’s note lol), mentions of drinking + being under the influence, unprofessional relationships, explicit photography (taking + accidentally sending nudes), virgin! + inexperienced! geto, semi-public sex (in a campus office), teasing, humiliation, mentions of male masturbation, handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play, fingering, riding, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

♱ notes ⋮ here is the first kinktober post i hope you all enjoy and HAPPY OCTOBER ITS MY FAV SEASON

the first rule of being a college student is having good time management. that should’ve been something you remembered before saving this paper for the last minute—because now you’re beginning to regret overestimating your ability to finish all the research and the required components and hit the word count. and then you have to cite your sources—which is a pain, and the clock isn’t slowing even a little as it ticks away closer and closer to the deadline.

you’re doomed, finished for the semester before you could’ve even fully begun. you’re counting your moments to failure for a class you absolutely need to graduate. this paper is thirty percent of your grade—how could you have been so careless as to leave it so last minute?

“it’s useless,” you moan woefully into your phone, making shoko snort as you hear her continue to type away on her keyboard. it hits you that if shoko of all people is further along her paper than you—the same shoko that cheats on everything—then you’ve really let yourself go. “i’m never going to finish this on time,” you mutter.

“i told you to get started earlier,” she says matter of factly, almost with enough i told you so energy in her voice that you’re two seconds from storming over to her apartment and smashing her laptop to bits. but shoko has a point—even if you refuse to acknowledge it since…well, it’s shoko, after all.

“i’m not on call with you to lecture me,” you grumble, “i’m on call with you to help me find a solution. you think if i offer the TA a blow job, he’ll give me an A?”

shoko snorts, pausing her typing as if she’s actually contemplating the idea. “maybe, honestly. you know he’s our age, and he’s like years ahead of us? probably too busy with school to get any bitches,” she laughs, making you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at your lips no matter how hard you try to fight it.

“you know what, you might be right,” you chuckle. you almost feel bad for joking at his expense—your TA is nice, he’s young and kind and understanding, he takes time to slowly go over things when people have questions, he answers emails politely and quickly no matter how stupid the reason, he and has sensible rules that aren’t too strict. and, if you’re being honest, he’s rather handsome. “i wouldn’t mind giving him a blow job though,” you hum, “he’s cute.”

“gross,” shoko gags, “geto suguru is not cute.”

“he is too,” you argue, furrowing your brows as you huff, “he’s probably one of the few men i’ve seen who make a man bun work. and i know he’s ripped under that sweater, he has to be. i saw him leave the gym the other day, and his arms were huge.”

“he’s probably just trying to get bitches,” shoko snorts, “i bet he’s a virgin.”

“shut up,” you laugh, and for a moment, your mind wanders to your stupidly handsome TA.

you shouldn’t be thinking about him this way—fantasizing about anyone who grades your papers is a line you shouldn't really cross, but you can’t help it. your thoughts turn into what hearing his smooth, deep voice would be like if he moaned into your ear, or what his bangs would look like stuck to his sweaty forehead, or what his abs would look like clenching as he cums, or how breathless he’d sound as he whispers your name—

“wait, i just had an idea,” shoko interrupts your thinking with a gasp, making you shake out of your (very dirty) thoughts as you blink.

you clear your throat, trying your best not to sound flustered as you speak. “i’m scared to ask what the idea is—you’re not really known for having good ones,” you say warily. you can practically see her eyes roll without her being there with you—you’ve been friends with shoko long enough to know her like the back of your hand. and if you know her like you think you do, her idea is about to cause you a lot of stress.

“well, looks like i’m never trying to help you again,” she scoffs, “i could’ve written you a doctor’s note with a few of the copies i managed to snatch—but since you don’t want my help—”

“no, wait! you’re a genius,” you gasp happily, grinning wide as shoko huffs through the phone and mutters something faintly similar to ungrateful under her breath, “i could kiss you on the lips right now.”

“no thank you. you suck,” she hisses. you only giggle, relief flooding through your bones that maybe your grade is saved—and all thanks to having a friend who works in a doctor’s office. you silently send the universe your gratitude for having your best friend pursue a career in the medical field—the perks prove to be quite beneficial, it seems.

“just send me a picture of it and make it seem like i’m too sick to work on the paper, and i’ll tell him i won’t finish in time. a one day extension should be enough.”

“where would you be without me,” she grumbles quietly, “i’ll send it to you in a second. now please let me finish my paper in peace.”

“okay. love you, you’re the best.”

“i hate you.” the line clicks and you giggle, happily celebrating that you most likely have a saved grade and a free night to yourself now that shoko has so kindly offered you a solution. and of course, you’ll take this as a learning curve and appropriately plan to give yourself enough time for the next paper.

it’s not long before your phone dings and shoko’s contact pops up on your screen with, sure enough, a doctor’s note with today’s date and reason for the visit. shoko has even taken the liberty to make you seem contagious—just so you can skip class tomorrow for good measure. beaming, you text a quick thanks bestie <3 in response—too happy to even care that she sends you an emoji flipping you off.

and it doesn’t take you long to craft the email either, making sure to properly address him with a greeting, adding apologies for the inconvenience—and as the icing on the cake, a promise that it won’t ever happen again in the future. you click the photo to upload the doctor’s note, and without even a second thought, you click send.

and then within the split second that the email sends, and you realize just which photo you’ve accidentally clicked, your life flashes before your eyes.

“no,” you mumble, “no no no,” you chant as you quickly open the email you’ve sent, eyes wide and throat dry.

the photo is not the picture of the doctor’s note shoko sent—instead, it’s the picture right under it in your camera roll. the picture that’s not very suitable for sending your TA. the picture of your tits, just barely covering your nipples with your arm. the picture you took through giggles while changing after getting a little tipsy the night before (you’d felt just a tad bit sexy in your makeup.)

you sit in silent shock as you register that you just sent your TA your nudes—and just to make matters worse, he responds almost instantly, making your heart drop as you stare at his emailed reply with a shaky hand holding up your phone.

please meet me in my office tomorrow before class so we can discuss the above email.

suddenly, your worries are a lot more complicated than simply failing a class.

———————————————

you barely slept the night before, if at all, to be completely honest with yourself. the worst-case scenario runs through your head the entire time you toss and turn in bed. geto is probably going to report this, and then you’ll get expelled, and then you’ll never make it with a successful career, and then you’ll never be able to show your face to anyone you know again.

your feet are as heavy as lead as they drag along the walk to his room, and you contemplate turning back and never showing up to his office, maybe simply even just refusing to ever return to campus at all. maybe you can move countries and start over somewhere else—maybe you can change your name and make a new life for yourself.

but instead, you take a deep breath and knock on the door, waiting until you hear a soft come in before you enter. geto is seated at the desk, typing away at his laptop before meeting your eyes as you walk in.

“uh…hi,” you start, standing awkwardly by the door.

“hello,” he says, eyeing you slightly before looking back at his screen. if he has any ill feelings about last night, he does a good job of hiding it—you can’t read a single emotion on his face. somehow, that makes things worse. “have a seat,” he gestures at the chair across from him on the other side of the desk, waiting for you to seat yourself nervously in front of him.

you sit down, watching as he opens his mouth to start—but you begin speaking before he can. “look, i know that email was really inappropriate, and i’m really sorry—it was an accident, i swear! i meant to click on the picture above it, and i didn’t realize—”

“i understand,” he cuts you off as he holds a hand up, offering you a kind smile that makes you tilt your head in confusion, “it’s fine.” fine. fine? he’s…just fine with it? he’s just willing to let you off the hook? “i’m not much older than you,” he chuckles, “i’m not foreign to these things. i’m sure you’re active in…that aspect of your life.”

oh god—why you? why of all people did this have to be you? why is the world so hellbent on making your life miserable in every aspect?

you eye the coiled wires of the phone on his desk, and you contemplate strangling yourself with them before he can say something anymore embarrassing. but, you have to admit—this is far better than being told you’ve been reported to the dean for misconduct.

“i’m really sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” you fiddle with your fingers as you avoid his gaze, “i really did mean to send you a doctor’s note. i just didn’t realize i hit the picture under it.”

“like i said, it’s okay,” he reassures. calm. he’s almost too calm about this. too okay with it. almost like…like he didn’t mind at all in the first place.“but i wanted to make sure you’re aware of how fragile photos like that are.”

“huh?” you raise a brow. now, this is not where you expected the conversation to steer. you expected a lecture on how sending an educator your explicit photos is highly unprofessional, that it’s unacceptable and suggests other things—things that are completely against the rules and completely out of question to even consider.

“i mean, photos like those getting into the wrong hands can lead to really bad predicaments,” geto continues, clearing his throat as he closes his laptop and meets your gaze. he looks you dead in the eye as he speaks his next words, “and i wouldn’t want sensitive content of you circulating around campus.”

“right,” you nod slowly, “it’s not like i send them around, or anything. i was just a bit drunk that night, and i was in my room bored, and my makeup was cute so i was feeling good about myself…and…and…yeah…” you trail off.

why are you even explaining this to him in such detail? you silently curse yourself in your head, beating yourself up for running your mouth so much.

“oh, that’s good to know,” he nods, “i’m glad to hear that. no one else has possession of these photos?”

you eye him slowly, “nope,” you confirm. “just you—by accident, of course.”

you’re not sure if you imagine it, or if the situation as a whole is making you overinterpret everything that’s happening—but you’re almost certain you hear his breath hitch a little. he’s no longer looking at you, no longer burning you under his gaze like he was just a minute ago.

“right, by accident,” he repeats. it’s slow, like he’s reminding himself, like he has to speak slowly to process the information. “well, i hope this serves as a lesson for being more careful next time. you don’t want young men to save such pictures of yourself for ulterior motives.”

geto suguru, your teacher’s assistant for intro to literature 1301, seems to be rather invested in your well-being—more than a TA really should be. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost disappointed that you sent him a significantly revealing photo of yourself by accident instead of intentionally. and, if you squint just a little, it almost seems like he doesn’t want anyone else to have the pictures. not because he’s concerned for you—but rather, because he wants to be the only one who’s seen them.

your thoughts from last night come flooding back, how he’s probably well built under his shirt, how shoko thinks he’s still a virgin, and especially how he probably looks and sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure. and geto suguru might think he has you cornered like a cat would a mouse, but what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been the serpent the whole time, fangs ready to sink into him and devour him whole.

“you know, you seem like you speak from experience,” you can’t help but grin slightly.

now, logically speaking, this is wrong—this is pushing the kindness he so graciously showed you. by now, you should be fighting back tears as you figure out a way to break the news to everyone you know that you’ve had to receive an expulsion for sending your TA nudes. by now, your life should’ve been at an all time low, so you really shouldn’t be testing your luck.

but geto has practically seen your tits, so you’re not really sure there’s any point in acting like an angel around him—and he’s so incredibly hot in that button up shirt of his, sleeves rolled halfway up his arm. plus, the thought of him being your inexperienced TA, one who lets you strip him of his innocence as you slowly taint his purity—it excites you a little more than it really should.

he clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. this time, yours bore into him through a searing gaze that almost makes him shift uncomfortably.

“well, like i said, i am around your age, so i know how men’s minds work when it comes to these things—”

“so then tell me,” you raise a brow, smirking slightly as his jaw clenches, “is it because your mind works the same way?”

“now—”

“did you save my tit pics to your phone?” you ask bluntly. he hides the choked cough through a clearing of his throat—bingo, you think. almost instantly, the room shifts to him being nervous under your gaze as you eye him smugly.

something about sweet, kind, successful geto suguru, young and ambitious with a perfect gpa and a flawless resume, being hot and bothered by your breasts makes you swell with pride—and you think maybe…maybe giving him a blow job might not be such an outlandish thought after all.

maybe he wants it to be a reality just as badly as you do.

“w-what are you implying—”

“did they turn you on?” you interrupt, watching as his cheeks heat up a slight flush of pink, “did you wish i’d moved my arm down so you could get the full view?” he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. “was that the first nude you’ve ever been sent?”

“i think that’s enough,” he says sternly, but his voice is slightly higher in pitch—which tells you everything you need to know. and you’re enthused. “keep in mind, i could have every intention to notify the dean of these—”

“but suguru,” you pout, rolling his first name off your tongue so sweetly, he can’t help but be hungry for another taste of something so decadent, “if you tattle on me, you’ll never get a chance to actually see my nipples this time,” you giggle, “isn’t that what you want?”

“i—”

“i wonder,” you grin wickedly, “did you act like every other guy our age and jack off to a random girl’s tits?”

you must hit close to home because he lets out a shaky exhale, jaw tight and fists clenched as his knuckles turn pale. he swallows thickly before finally meeting your eyes, face a deep shade of crimson as you grin at him widely.

“i…i’m not…immune to things of that nature,” he finally admits, voice strained as your grin widens. almost instantly, you’re standing up, locking the door behind you and making your way over to his side of the desk without hesitation. the cards have been dealt in your hand, all that’s left is to play them—and you’re pleased to say that the game is heavily leaning in your favor.

“wanna show me?” you ask with a sultry voice, “wanna show me how you fucked your fist last night? i’ll even let you see my nipples this time around,” you murmur as you seat yourself on his lap.

geto scoots his chair back and makes room for you, breathing heavily as his pants strain with the tent already forming in them. his breath hitches when your hand rubs over his erection—and he curses himself for being so pathetic as to let a few words from you let him get riled up like this. but you’re so pretty—always have been.

you sit in class and chew on the top of your pen, making it hard to avert his attention from your mouth. you tilt your head and furrow your brows so cutely when you’re confused, making it hard for him to concentrate on what he’s teaching. you laugh so sweetly out of glee when you do something correctly, and your voice shoots right through his heart—and sometimes, as ashamed as he is to admit it, straight to his dick too.

and he’s well aware of how bad of an idea this is, but this is everything he’s ever dreamt about—right here under the palm of his hands. literally. so he grips your hips tightly, bringing you to rub over him through your own pants. the friction makes him throw his head back, moaning quietly as your clothed cunt drags along his length. you chuckle, palms gliding over his chest through his shirt and feeling the firm muscle under your hands.

“does that feel good?” you ask, making him stifle a whimper as you glide over his nipples through his shirt.

your hands move to unzip his pants—and the best part? he lets you. he sits back and lets you free his aching cock from its confinements, he lets you wrap your fingers around his thick girth and squeeze gently, and he lets you pull the soft, low moans you’ve fantasized of hearing from his lips as you smear his pre cum along his shaft and stroke him slowly.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, hips bucking into your hand, lips tugging between his teeth as he pants harshly with every squeeze at the base of his cock. and because you really can’t help it, you lean down to kiss along his jaw, making your way to his neck and nibbling at his skin. he groans, whispering your name—it makes your thighs squeeze together as a dull ache forms between your own legs. “feels…feels so good,” he mumbles breathlessly, “so different when you do it.”

you giggle, watching him carefully so as not to miss a single reaction. “oh yeah? you know, shoko said you were probably a virgin,” you purr against his ear, making his hands clutch onto your hips tighter, “you seem to be proving that theory right.”

“d-don’t stop,” he pleads when your hand slows, making his hips thrust sloppily into your fist and try to keep your earlier pace going. but you’re mean—just a tad bit cruel, and you wanna see him ooze with shame. so you squeeze on his cock, stilling the movement and making him rasp as he buries his head into your neck with a whine.

“are you a virgin, suguru?” you hum, stroking his hair soothingly—but it contradicts the teasing tone of your voice.

his face burns in your neck, “yes,” he mumbles quietly, like the admission stings.

“how cute,” you pout, “so no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” he shakes his head slowly into the crook of your neck—but it’s not nearly as satisfying when he’s hiding, so you pull his face away despite his initial protesting. “i want to hear it,” you say firmly.

“fuck—no,” he groans, his face an even deeper shade of red than you thought was possible, “no, no one has ever…you know…”

“sucked your dick?” you grin.

“stop,” he whines. you chuckle quietly before climbing off his lap and sinking down to your knees before him, looking up at his shocked face with a smirk.

“wanna know something?” you hum, “i’ve thought about sucking your dick.”

“thinking about you TA like that?” he huffs a chuckle—but whatever semblance of composure he had, he loses as soon as you press a gentle kiss to the tip of his flushed cock, reddened and swollen at the head as beads of pre cum leak from the slit.

“just like you jack off to your student,” you shoot back, “you want it, suguru? do you want me to make you feel good?”

“god—yes,” he hisses, “get on with it,” he says as he’s throwing you a glare when you snicker up at him from in between his legs. you run your tongue along the tip, humming as you take in the taste of him before wrapping your lips around him and taking him down your throat.

the reaction is instant—geto slumps back against his chair, gasping as you swallow around him, bobbing your head up and down his length. you loosen your jaw, fucking him with your mouth, letting your tongue drag along the thick vein running across the underside of his cock. his hand falls to the top of your head while the other grips the armrest of his chair, skin turning white over his knuckles as he tightens his hold with each time the warmth of your mouth swallows around him.

“oh—g-god, shit that’s it,” he grunts, hips bucking into your throat as you pick up your pace. “feels fuckin’ amazing—oh, fuck.”

your hand wraps around the base of his member, pumping what won’t fit in your mouth so no part of him is left neglected. and when your other hand reaches for his balls, rolling the sensitive sacs in your hand and squeezing gently, he rewards you with a whine, voice lilting off to a high pitched moan as his hips thrust up instinctively. your nose brushes against his pelvis, and with a few more swallows, you feel him twitch in your mouth.

“fuck, fuck, ‘m c-close,” he pants, chest falling and rising erratically. you look up, watching through teary eyes as spit and pre cum dribble down your chin, taking in the pretty sight of his face flushed and his skin damp, bangs clinging to his forehead just like you imagined them to. “don’t stop—’m gonna cum…gonna…gonna make me cum,” he rasps.

you moan around him, and the vibrations send him over the edge, hips raising as he groans loudly. hot, thick ropes of his cum paint your mouth, seeping past your lips and dripping down your chin as you try your best to swallow what you can. geto sounds better than you expected—voice deep and raspy, but still the same smoothness it always holds even through the cracks as he brokenly calls your name.

the sound of his voice as he moans your name makes your walls clench around nothing and your clit throb. you let him fuck himself into your mouth through his high, riding out the last waves of his orgasm as pleasure burns through every nerve and every inch of him. when he finally slumps back into his chair, breathing harshly, you pull off of his cock, wiping the mess from your chin on your sleeve. and before you can open your mouth to tease him some more, you’re pulled back onto his lap, his mouth on yours, kissing you deep.

“this’ll have to be a secret,” he mumbles, “for both of us.”

for someone who’s never done anything like this before, geto rids you of your clothes almost expertly, lifting your shirt over your arms and sliding your pants off in an instant. he groans when his fingers trace over your clit—which you’re happy to know he can find—and feels the wetness of your slick drooling over the fabric.

“c’mon, suguru,” you hum, voice edging on a little impatient, “go ahead and touch a pussy for the first time.”

he huffs, yanking the fabric to the side before sinking his ring and middle fingers into you, knuckle deep as this thumb runs circles along your clit. you whine, grinding your hips down on his hand, impatiently waiting for him to move.

“for someone who’s experienced,” he grins, “you’re awfully impatient.”

you open your mouth to respond, but as soon as you try to retort, his fingers thrust into you, hitting the sensitive spot of your walls with ease and making you cut yourself off with a moan. he scissors his fingers, stretching you open as your head falls to his shoulder with soft whimpers, feeling him curl his digits deep into you. you whine as your clit hits over his palm, feeling the slow build up of the coil in your belly reach the snapping point.

“keep going,” you encourage, “‘m close, k-keep going—fuck, suguru!”

“god, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, watching as your head tips back and your mouth parts with a silent sob, watching as you break—all because of him. your walls spasm around his fingers as they bully into you and ride you through your orgasm, and your lips are slightly swollen from biting on them, eyes crinkled as you screw them shut, skin damp and glistening as sweat coats your forehead.

perfect—you look perfect, and suguru has fantasized about this image in his head for so long, he can hardly believe it’s a reality before him.

your hands find his long hair, tugging and twisting at the strands that slip between your fingers as the last few waves of your high crash over you.

the rest is a blur—somewhere through rough and sloppy kisses, through rolled hips and soft groans as you grind against each other, geto has managed to unclasp your bra, letting your tits bounce freely. his hands immediately cup around them, squeezing gently before his lips pull away and his eyes fall to your chest.

“fuck, they look better in person,” he grunts, rolling his thumbs over your pebbled nipples before pinching them lightly and rolling them between his fingers. you squeal, and your cunt is dripping—smearing your slick along his bare thigh as he teases over the sensitive skin. “feels good?” he mumbles.

“so good—don’t stop,” you moan, making his breath hitch in his throat. grinning, you open your eyes, hazy with lust, meeting his own unfocused gaze, “doing so well, suguru. making me feel so good.”

geto likes praise. you can tell that much alone from his hefty list of accomplishments on his resume. he’s beaming with pride the first day your professor introduces him in class while explaining how capable he is at his young age. he does a good job of staying humble, but you never fail to notice the twinge of excitement in his eyes when he’s praised for his impressive work ethic.

there’s no exception now either—his eyes search yours for every hint he can find that he’s doing a good job, that he’s doing well and giving you exactly what you want. you swear his cock twitches when you say the word good—and he seems to notice it too because there’s a shaky breath against your neck as he groans.

“fuck,” he breathes, hands falling to your hips and gripping tightly, desperately, when your hand grabs his throbbing cock, still hard and leaking pre cum from the reddened tip. “want to feel you,” he groans, “please.”

it’s all it takes for you to sink down on him, forehead pressing to his as you both moan against each other’s mouths. he’s big—long and thick, curved at an angle that makes him sink against your sweet spot almost perfectly, almost like he was made for you. it’s a shame he’s your TA, a small part of you almost feels a twinge of disappointment he can’t fully be yours.

“fuck, suguru,” you gasp, “so big, feels so good.”

he whines, helping lift your hips up and guide you down on his cock, your hips rolling against his, the sound of your moans and the slapping of skin filling up the small office. you’re sure anyone passing by could hear and figure out what’s going on—but it only thrills you more, making you slam down on him faster.

“so tight,” he grunts, “g-god, so fucking tight, i can’t—”

his hands are everywhere, they dig into your hips, glide up to cup your tits, and find the back of your neck to pull you close and meet your lips. he’s panting, sweat making strands of hair cling to his forehead as his skin flushes a deep shade of crimson. his hips buck up into you, meeting you halfway with desperate thrusts, trying to feel you deeper.

your head is spinning—not just from the way his thick girth splits you open, or from the way his tip slams against your spot so perfectly, but from the way his touch seems to light your skin up with every drag of his fingertips. and then he brings one hand down between your bodies, rubbing his thumb against your clit in harsh circles.

“are you gonna cum, suguru? cause i am,” you moan, “wanna be good and cum with me? fill me up nice and full?”

“sh-shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. he does want to fill you up—wants to cum deep into you so you’re dripping as you walk out of his office. so that when you sit in class and stare at him as he teaches class, you can’t help but think of the way he was buried to the hilt inside you just hours ago. “yeah…yeah, ‘m gonna cum. gonna fill you up, baby,” he groans, “stuff you full of my cum. want it?”

“wan’ it so bad, suguru,” you whine, “look so pretty when you cum, wanna see it again.”

and with a few more rolls of your hips, the squelching sounds of his cock slipping in and out of you all but drowned out but your pants, you fall off the edge—geto not far behind. you can feel his cock twitch as he shoots rope after rope of his thick cum into you, angling his hips up to fuck it deep into your pussy. it’s a mess, your slick mixed with his seed dripping along your thighs and coating your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care. and you also can’t find it in you to care that you’ll have to leave after this and see him again as you sit through his class. and you certainly don’t have it in you to care that you could both get in serious trouble if anyone realized this was happening.

instead, you cup his cheeks with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch in his throat with a strangled whine, and you kiss him, hard and deep.

“f-fuck, fuck—ngh, shit,” he gasps, against your mouth in labored pants. it’s never felt like this—cumming into his fist is one thing, but cumming into your tight walls, feeling them squeeze around him in sync with his high is something he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget. he thinks you’ve ruined touching himself for him, thinks he’ll never be able to go back to being fine with just his hand to keep him company when he’s aching between his legs.

after this, geto isn’t sure how he’s supposed to just forget this happened—or about you. his hands don’t stop guiding you onto his cock, hips not ceasing to fuck up into you until you’re both whimpering from sensitivity.

it’s too much—but somehow, it’ll never be enough.

you slump over him when he finally slows down to a stop, bodies a sweaty heap against each other on his chair as his arms wrap around you and his lips find your damp forehead for a soft kiss. you turn your head, pressing a kiss to his jaw in return.

“so,” you wriggle your brows, “can this count as extra credit?” you ask cheekily, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle as he pulls you tighter against his chest.

“sure. i’ll even give you enough extra credit opportunities to be top of the class,” he grins.

#[ tee’s kinktober 22 👻 ]#teepods.writings #thirstee!#fics.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

Cough

Just a drabble. Belongs in the future of the Sassy series.

Simon Riley/female reader - Soft dad Simon Riley 1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: sickfic, comfort, medicine and illness, soft dad Simon, fluff, Simon is a good partner and dad I will be taking no questions. Simon's family is sick.

The raspy cry is what wakes him. You groan in your sleep, searching across the mattress blindly for the source of the sound, seeking Theo where he sleeps in the bassinet that you set up when he first got sick. You’re wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets and one of Simon’s old sweatshirts, fighting to get free and pull the babe into the bed with you, just as you have for most of the night. Very dim, light orange rays of dawn peek under the drawn shades, casting shadow across the wooden floor of the bedroom, and Simon rubs his eyes open, body fully in tune with the sound of Theo’s distress. He gets there first, scooping the crying boy into his arms and ushering him out the door and into the bathroom, silently hoping you didn’t wake fully.

He turns the shower onto scalding hot and draws the curtain closed, stripping Theo out of his night shirt, cradling him against his bare skin.

“We’ve got this, yeah?” Theo blinks up at him, tears dripping from his eyes, face scrunching into a scream. Poor lad, Simon thinks. “Shhh, shhh.” He tries to soothe him, pressing the baby to his chest, the steam from the shower filling both of their lungs, and Theo’s cries slowly shift into more of a wheeze. The high pitched, squeaking noise sets Simon on edge, and he hovers his mouth above Theo’s ear, trying to relax him into easier breathing. The syrupy rattle of his little lungs heightens Simon’s anxiety about the illness that’s swept the house, the thickened scrape of the coughing and gasping coming from both you and Theo filling him with unease. Sickness is not something he’s well equipped to deal with, he believes, and this silent foe that threatens his family caught him more off guard than he would care to admit.

��It can be common in babies of this age.” The pediatrician explains to both of you while he holds Theo, the big four month old squirming and crying in his grip. You cover your mouth as you cough.

“But he’ll be okay?” To a stranger, you sound calm, but to Simon, who’s seen you in too many life or death situations to count, he recognizes the waver in the higher pitched syllables, the tense string tying your shoulders taut. You’re worried, even with the doctor’s reassurance.

“This medicine twice a day for seven days should knock it out. You can try turning the shower on and closing the door in the bathroom for a makeshift steam room to help give him some relief in the meantime.” She smiles kindly and then scribbles onto an RX pad. “Call me if you don’t see improvement after the medication finishes.”

A very soft knock sounds at the door.

“You okay?” Your voice scratches when you pop your head in, nose stuffed, face tired. Theo twists his head in your direction immediately.

“Yeah, we’re alright.” Your eyes travel over the two of them briefly, taking in the baby, only in his diaper and Simon, only in his boxers, a sleepy, barely-there smile twisting your lips. You step into the foggy room, resting your chin against Simon’s arm, careful to keep your face pointed away from Theo.

“How’s his breathing?”

“Still got a bit of a wheeze.” Simon takes a closer look at you and nearly winces. You’re no longer contagious, but not particularly any better off than Theo, the exhaustion of having a sick kid compounding your own illness. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.” You lie, moving to wash your hands in the sink before stroking a finger along Theo’s cheek. “Poor baby boy.” You murmur, and then draw a scratchy breath and step backwards, coughing into the crook of your arm.

“Sweet girl,” he says, palm brushing along your sweat-dampened skin, “you should be in bed.”

“He’s due for his medicine. The alarm woke me.”

“I’ve got it.” He assures you, gesturing to the vial on the counter. “We’ve got it, huh Theo? Tell her, go back to sleep.” You raise an eyebrow.

“You sure?” you sigh heavily when he nods. “Okay.” He presses his lips against your forehead.

“I’ll check on you once I put him back down.” You glance at them again, eyes half asleep, and then click the door shut as quietly as possible.

Simon eyes the sticky pinky substance that drips from the brown bottle with disdain. Smells awful, like fake bubblegum. Theo sits with his back against his chest, legs dangling over his forearm, watching his dad in the mirror as he scoops a dose into the little baby spoon they’ve been using.

“Alright lad.” He holds the spoon in front of his mouth, trying to urge him to open up. “I know, I know.” He hums while Theo jerks his head backwards, lips opening with a wail. Simon seizes the opportunity and deposits the pink slime onto his tongue, gently tilting his head back just slightly to encourage him to swallow. “Shhh. All done, good job.” He turns him around, laying his cheek against his chest, rubbing his back until his cries quiet down.

When he cracks the door to the bedroom, you’re already knocked out, sprawled across the bed, mouth open and lightly snoring. It’s the deepest you’ve slept in a week, and he can’t bring himself to disturb your rest. He leans over you, Theo still in his arms, and kisses your cheek gently.

“Say goodnight, mum.” He whispers, one arm supporting the boy, while the other tucks the sheet closer under your chin.

He buttons Theo into new sleep clothes before placing him on his back in the crib, Simon’s giant palm just barely resting on his little chest until he settles, eyes slowly closing and breaths falling into an even rhythm. He folds up a spare baby blanket for a pillow, and lays down on the carpet, one hand grasping the bars of the crib. Just in case he wakes up. That way, he knows his dad’s here, Simon tells himself, his own eyes feeling heavy, the heat from the steam finally pulling both father and son into deep, dreamless sleep.

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

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Cocktails and Confessions (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You don't mean to confess your love, but in your defence, you are about three and a half whiskies deep.

CW: fluff, cuteness, the Doctor is a little shit, consumption of alcohol

Doctor Who Tag List: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“I just- fucking- love you, Doctor,” you slur, swallowing thickly between the words. “Fuckinnn’ love you… Doctor.”

The drink in your hand sloshes as you stumble in place. The Doctor rushes forward to steady you, pulling the drink out of your hand and depositing it onto the windowsill.

“Doctor,” you say thoughtfully. “Dok-tor. Dok-tah. Hickory dickery Doctor Doo Little,” you break off into giggles as the Doctor pulls you towards the TARDIS doors. All he needs is to get you inside and into bed. Seriously, he left you alone for two hours and came back to find you completely off your face. Oh well, as long as you were having fun. That was the main thing.

“There, there,” the Doctor cooed, displaying a surprising amount of strength to stop you from toppling into a topiary. You laughed, wrapping an arm around his back to steady yourself.

Once you were inside, the Doctor let you tumble into your bed and helped you roll onto your back. He tutted and went about untying your shoelaces before yanking your shoes off with enough force to pull you halfway down the bed. This, of course, sent you into another fit of laughter and the Doctor bit down on his lip to stop himself from laughing along with you.

It was barely another ten minutes before you’d passed out completely, snoring in such a way that the Doctor was almost certain that you probably had sleep apnoea.

It wasn’t until the morning, however, that you realised how badly you’d fucked up. Your head pounded, and your mouth felt like it had sawdust pieces stuck in it. You groaned loudly, throwing an arm over your eyes to shield yourself. Your room in the TARDIS did have a window, but the current source of irritating light was coming from the light fixture.

“TARDIS, please,” you groaned out, rolling over and becoming very startled when your forehead whacked right into something warm and hard. You cracked an eye open, not sure you wanted to know what that was.

“Good morning, love,” the Doctor said loudly. Far, far too loudly. The warm hard thing you’d given yourself a mild concussion over was, in fact, the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Why are you in my bed,” you replied, deadpan. Your eye was struggling to keep itself open and so you buried your face in the squishy bit of his arm to hide yourself from the light beating down on you from above. God, even his arm was bony. “Did you stay here all night?”

He was still dressed in his tux, though he’d kicked his shoes off at some point, leaving him in his socks. One of which had a hole right over the big toe.

“Oh, you know,” the Doctor replies as though those three words would answer any and all questions. “Popped out once or twice, but for the most part, yes.”

You grumble, pressing your face a little harder into his arm. The Doctor tuts and encourages you to sit up. You do as requested, though the entire process has you lamenting your warm blankets and squishy arm pillow.

Once you’re upright and situated, the Doctor hands you a glass of water, a couple of panadol and a little white button that happens to be the same colour as the panadol tablets.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” the Doctor laughs, grabbing the button and twisting it in his fingers. “Probably don’t take that. Thought it was another aspirin, but maybe not.”

You crack into a smile, downing the actual tablets and the glass of water in one go. The water eases your dry throat.

“You were off it last night, eh,” the Doctor grinned, knocking his shoulder into yours. “Said some things.”

You turn your head to look at him front on. You only have flashes of last night. Some dancing here, a few drinks there. You’re sure you chatted up a storm, but the look on the Doctor’s face tells you that you might have said some things you weren’t necessarily meaning too.

“Oh?” You reply, temples throbbing with your hangover.

“Oh,” the Doctor echoes teasingly. “Oh indeed. You said some things I really rather think you wished you didn’t- because now, I get to hold it over you as long as I like. You can’t remember, can you?”

He was right, as usual.

“Oh God,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I say?”

Try as you might, you’re finding it difficult to remember much other than a windowsill and a pretty bush. Damnit, that does not help you.

“You,” the Doctor all but giggles, “my very hungover, very brilliant friend- told me you loved me.”

You fucking what? Oh, dear God. This was… decidedly not good. The Doctor did not seem to agree with you on that, however, if the look of sheer unadulterated joy made you think maybe you didn’t need to be too stressed about it all.

“Did I just?” You asked, dropping your head onto him softly. You sigh with relief as the pounding in your head starts to dissipate. Not by much, mind you, but just by a little.

“You did.”

You chew on your bottom lip thoughtfully, wondering just what’s going on in that very vast, very full brain of his.

“And… you?” You trail off quietly, fidgeting with the glass.

“Oh, feel the same, of course. I love you. I’ve always loved you, I think. Not really something I had to question, was it?” The Doctor takes the glass and puts it on the side table. He reaches back over to grasp your hand in his. “Why else do you think I’ve kept you around all this time?”

You arch a brow, responding with a statement about how you can handle yourself. Of course, the Doctor grins and agrees that yes, that too is one of the reasons why he’s kept you along all this time.

“If my head didn’t feel like it was about to explode with the force of a thousand suns, I would be shouting and screeching with joy right now,” you say with a vague whimper, cradling your head in your hands. The Doctor tuts comfortingly, manoeuvring to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, I know. Come now,” he says softly, helping you back to lie down again. “Get some rest. When you wake up there’s something I want you to see.”

You’re not entirely sure what that means, but you don’t complain when your head hits the pillows. You have years and years to explore this new revelation, and you can’t wait for those years and years to start.

But for now?

Right now it was time for a nap.

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supermauswithagun · 10 months

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What did Jonathan Harker see in Budapest? pt. 2

Our dear friend Jonathan returned to Budapest! Except that he is not in the condition for more sightseeing. :( This time he will only see, as follows:

an ambulance. (No victorian era gentlemen were harmed while taking this photo. This is just a demonstration where doctors of the first ambulance company of Budapest were showing off their newest equipment at the 1896 Millennium Exhibition.)

The Old Szent János Hospital. Last year I’ve made a post about how the Hospital of St. Joseph and Ste. Mary did not exist, and why I think Jonathan spent his time recovering in the Old Szent János. Basically that was the only hospital in Budapest close to the Buda Hills where nuns were tending male patients. Jonathan asking for money to pay for his hospital stay suggests that he was in the Old Szent János, since this hospital mostly admitted poor and homeless people who could not pay for their treatment. (A new and more modern hospital was under construction, but it was opened a few years after Dracula was published.)

Except that I was wrong. Some people suggested that because of poor Jonathan was rambling about vampires and such things, he could have been taken to a mental hospital, and the Lipótmező Asylum fits Sister Agatha’s description just as well. Lipótmező is also in the Buda Hills, nuns were taking care of the patients, and it resembled a sanatorium more than the Old Szent János. Despite being an asylum, Lipótmező was a state owned hospital under strict medical supervision so there were no random experimenting like our other dear friend Dr. Seward did in Carfax. Anyway, here’s a picture of the Lipótmező as well, you decide which one you prefer for your upcoming fanfics.

And of course the nuns. In case of both the Old Szent János and the Lipótmező, they’ve belonged to the Company of the Daughters of Charity. Here’s one of them with a patient in front of the New Szent János Hospital in 1938.

Sadly I did not found any photos of the interiors of said hospitals, but here we have a picture from the 1896 Millenium Exhibition, showing hospital beds and a doctor’s uniform.

And if we were talking about fanfictions, let me be a little bit overindulgent here. I just love to imagine that after their wedding, when Jonathan starts to feel better, he and Mina try to use their remaining days in Budapest to make some good memories together before [spoiler]. They should really visit the Buda Hills, and have a picnic at the Normafa.

Or, if Jonathan feels up to it, they should walk all the way to the Gloriette at the top of the János Hill.

I just want them to be happy, okay?!

Again, all the pictures are from around 1897, the year when Dracula was published (except the one with the nun).

Sources under the cut:

1. Ambulance: Fortepan / Budapest Főváros Levéltára. Levéltári jelzet: HU.BFL.XV.19.d.1.10.250

2. Old Szent János Hospital: postcard published around 1890.

3. Lipótmező Asylum: illustration in Vasárnapi Újság from 1895.

4. Daughters of Charity nun: Fortepan

5. Hospital furniture: Fortepan / Budapest Főváros Levéltára. Levéltári jelzet: HU.BFL.XV.19.d.1.10.180

6. Normafa: Fortepan

7. Gloriette: postcard published around 1900.

#personal #history #hungary #budapest #bram stoker #dracula #dracula daily #sightseeing with our friend jonathan #i love to be a librarian

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 9 months

Text

Two Hearts, One Home (3)

part two

series masterlist

main masterlist

summary: ben copes with the thought of losing you and just wants to hear your heartbeat

pairing: soldier boy x female supe!reader

rating: R for language, mature themes (?)

word count: 4.2k

warnings: pregnancy, labor, language, vought torturing supe’s | mentions of/alludes to - sex, birth control, infertility issues, miscarriage, loss of a child, and trouble breastfeeding.

timeline: set about twenty minutes after part two

author’s note: part three! this is the happy ever after version, so this will be the final part. however i may be writing a prequel series. <3 (definitely titled sweet creature keeping with the title theme)

gif source

“Sir, I need you to get out of the room!” A nurse yelled, trying to push Ben out of the Supe-ER.

“B-Ben don’t leave me here!” you exclaimed between pained gasps.

“I can’t fucking leave her!” Ben shouted.

“Hey, hey, hey, just let the doctors do their job,” Butcher pulled Ben back and out of the room. “Just breathe, she’s tough as nails, she’s gonna be okay.”

“I- I can’t lose her, Butcher.” Ben shook his head. He ran a hand down his face and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I can’t…fuck!”

In his fit of rage he punched the wall next to him, his fist going straight through it and peeking out into the other room. Suddenly everyone in the waiting room and the front office were staring at him.

“Weak wall,” Butcher muttered to a nurse who was now examining the hole.

“We get Supe’s in here all the time, that’s the fifth hole this week,” she laughed a little. “Just calm him down before he punches a person.”

“Will do.” Butcher smirked before turning back to Ben. “Let’s take a seat, yeah?”

“No, i-if I stand here I can still h-hear her h-heartbeat,” Ben said, tears streaming down his face. Butcher nodded a little.

“I’ll bring a chair over here for ya then.”

It was Ben’s turn to nod. “Thank you,” he said.

Butcher, true to his word, brought a couple chairs over to where Ben was standing so they could sit down but Ben could still listen to your heart. Ben put his face in his hands and his elbows on his spread knees. Butcher didn’t really know what to do, he’d never seen Ben this upset. Scared, even.

“About two years ago,” Butcher started, “Y/n and I were chasing this asshole who just stole this little girl’s backpack right in front of us. He jumped into his car and started driving off. But Y/n, being an absolute badass, flung herself onto the car, then managed to get in front of it. She stopped it with her bare hands, Ben. Lifted it off the fuckin’ ground. Or how about that time she saved half a dozen construction workers when that scaffolding started to give out so she held the damn thing together so they could all get out? She is the strongest woman on the fucking planet, you know she is.”

“But if that baby is stronger,” Ben said quietly, lifting his head to look at Butcher, “it might just tear her apart. I mean, this is my baby and her baby; it’s gonna be stronger than both of us. It might just kill her, Butcher.”

“What’s the worst thing Vought put her through?” Butcher asked. “I mean, what was something they did that almost killed her?”

“Nothing almost killed her. They stitched a bomb into her chest and it blew to bits inside her. Hurt like hell, but it didn’t come close to killing her.”

“This baby ain’t gonna kill her, Ben. She’s been through way worse than this and she’s still alive and well.”

Ben took a deep, long breath, trying to calm himself down. “Thank you, Butcher,” he mumbled.

“Of course, mate.”

“Mr. Barnes?” The nurse who had pushed Ben out of the room was now standing a few feet from where he sat. “Y/n’s okay, you can see her now.”

“Oh thank fucking god,” Ben exclaimed before hurrying to you. “You’re okay! You’re really- fuck!” He smiled when he saw you.

“Come meet your son,” you said, smiling.

“I was so worried about you,” Ben whispered before kissing you. “I- I thought I lost you!” He kissed you a couple more times, putting his hands on your face, before pulling away to look at the baby in your arms.

“He’s so little!” Ben gasped as you handed him the baby. “Look at you! So, so tiny! And you’ve got Y/n’s eyes!”

“Any thoughts on the name?”

“William?” Ben asked you.

“Really?” You smiled even wider, Ben nodded. “William it is!”

“Hello, William Barnes,” he said, once again looking at baby Will. He then looked back at you; your eyes heavy with sleep and a smile still on your lips. “How’re you feeling? Are you…okay?”

“I am now,” you replied, reaching out to take his hand.

“Everyone meet William Barnes,” you told the group (Butcher, Hughie, Annie, Frenchie, and Kimiko) when they walked in.

“William?” Butcher smiled widely. A real, genuine smile, which was rare for him.

“Yep, named him after William Shatner! We love Star Trek,” Ben replied. You slapped his arm.

“He’s kidding,” you laughed. “We named him after the man who saved Ben in Russia, then freed me from a Vought lab a couple days later.”

“Sounds like a stand up guy.” Butcher was still smiling.

“Wanna hold the baby?” Ben asked.

“Oh hell yeah!” he exclaimed.

“Now’s the hard part, right?” you said to Ben when the three of you entered the apartment; Ben holding a sleeping Will in his arms. “Now we’ve got this tiny little human to take care of.”

“Now’s the fun part, though, too.” Ben shrugged a little. “Now we get to watch the little guy grow up. We watch him start to crawl, take his first steps, hear his first words, hear his laugh when we make silly faces, all the joys of being parents!”

“And we get to watch him drink formula because I’m toxic and could kill him,” you scoffed a little, Ben’s smile slowly fading. “Sorry,” you shook your head, “I’m just tired. Could you watch Will so I can sleep?”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” he said, smiling softly again. “C’mere.” He pulled you into a tight, one armed hug and you wrapped your arms around him. “I love you so much, honey. You go sleep for as long as you want, I’ll take care of Will.”

“I love you, Ben,” you whispered as you pulled away. “So much!” you added, yawning widely as you walked into the bedroom.

You slept for almost fourteen hours before you stirred awake. You still didn’t feel fully rested, which was strange, but you chalked it up to the fact you’d stayed up for over 36 hours before you crashed.

You heard Ben singing very quietly to Will in the living room as an attempt to get him to stop crying.

As you listened closely you noticed he wasn’t singing a classic nursery rhyme. You quietly went to the bedroom door so you could hear better.

“Hush little baby don’t you cry,” he sang very, very quietly. “Everything’s gonna be alright. Stiffen that upper lip up, little baby, I told ya, Daddy’s here to hold ya through the night.”

“Are you singing Eminem to our newborn baby?” you asked, walking into the living room.

“Uh huh,” he mumbled. “Why? Should I not be singing Eminem?”

“Does it work?”

“Oh yeah, he’s out like a light!” Ben smirked. “Why aren’t you sleeping? You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been asleep since we got home yesterday morning,” you laughed a little.

“Are you still tired?”

“Weirdly yeah, but I’m sure it’s nothing.” You shook your head a little. “Mind if I go back to sleep? Or do you want a turn?”

“Go ahead, I’ve got this,” he said. You turned to walk back but he stopped you. “Wait,” he mumbled before you turned back. He bent down and kissed you, wrapping a now free arm around your waist. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You smiled back.

“Fucking hell!” you exclaimed loudly, throwing the breast pump across the room. Ben hurried over from the kitchen, a worried expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“The stupid pump isn’t fucking working! Or I dunno, maybe my boobs are fucking broken!”

“Hey, hey of course your boobs aren’t broken!” he replied as he took a seat next to you, not really knowing what to say. “I’m sure it’s just the pump, can I help you figure out how to work it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniffled. “It’s all getting dumped down the drain anyway. What kind of fucking mother am I!?”

“Just because you have V in your system doesn’t mean you’re a bad mother?”

“Ben, how are you not more scared about all this?” You looked at him with tears in your eyes. “We’ve got a living, breathing, baby Supe in that room and you’re acting like this isn’t a horrifying situation! One wrong move and we’ll have the next Homelander! How are you so fucking calm!?”

“I’m freaking out too,” he whispered. “Every time you leave the room I let myself kinda go into panic mode because I don’t want to show you how scared I really am.” He took in a shaky, shallow breath.

“Ben!” you mumbled and took his hand in yours.

“I mean, you’re right! If we fuck this up, that kid could bring the whole world crumbling down!” He laughed humorously, putting his free hand on his face to hide the tears as he began sobbing a little. “I’m so scared I’ll be just like my dad, Y/n. I know I have it in me to be exactly like him. I drink more than he did, I’ve killed a countless number of people, I’m a fucking monster! When it comes down to it I am not someone who should be raising a fucking human being!”

“Ben, please don’t call yourself that,” you replied, a sob escaping your lips as well. “You’re nothing like your dad, you aren’t- you definitely are not a monster! You are a good person now! And now is what matters.”

“I don’t know, she just went to sleep last night and I couldn’t wake her up.” Ben’s deep voice slowly woke you up.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” the stranger sitting next to you asked. You nodded. “That’s great, do you know where you are?”

“B-Ben?” you mumbled, knowing he’d hear you from the other side of the bedroom where he was talking to the other paramedic.

“Yeah, I’m here sweetheart,” he replied and hurried to you.

“Ben what happened?” you asked. “Who are these people? Wh-Why are they in our home?”

“Y/n, you weren’t responding when I tried to wake you and I got scared so I called Butcher. Hughie sent someone over to check on you,” Ben explained.

“Is the baby okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, Butcher’s got him in the kitchen right now. How’re you feeling?”

“I feel fine?” You shrugged. “A little confused about the random men in our bedroom but other than that I feel okay.”

“I think we better go,” the paramedic next to you said and stood up. “We’ll get her blood sample back to the lab - all kept confidential - and let you know if we can find out what happened.”

“Thanks,” Ben told him as the men left the room.

“Ben seriously, what the hell?” you asked, laughing a little. “I sleep in a little and you call Butcher? You get a doctor to take a blood sample?”

“Sweetheart, it’s nearly four in the afternoon. I first tried to wake you up at noon and you wouldn’t budge.” He looked terrified and your gaze softened.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whispered.

“I’m just glad you’re awake now. You are not falling back asleep any time soon!” he exclaimed.

“So… Butcher’s alone with the baby?”

“Yeah, I better go check on them.” Ben kissed you. “Get outta bed so you don’t fall back asleep, okay?”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“So the blood tests came back…” Hughie told you and Ben through the phone. “Y/n, there’s no Compound V in your system. There’s no trace the blood ever had Compound V.”

“Wait, what?” You furrowed your brows. “I don’t understand, the blood was switched out? Where’s my blood then?”

“No, it’s yours—it’s just no longer Supe blood,” Hughie replied.

“Holy fucking shit,” Ben mumbled.

“Yeah… as far as anyone can tell, Y/n is the first reverse-Supe ever. With your permission they want to use it to make a sort of Anti-V.”

“Wait so I’m cured?” you asked, shaking your head a little. “No offense Hughie but I don’t believe you. Like, at all. Not for a second.” There was an awkward pause. “Sorry, that came off really rude. Thank you for everything but there has to be some mistake. Do whatever the fuck you want with the blood, but I gotta say there’s no way it’s mine.”

“I will get back to you guys after I have more information, okay?” Hughie said before you all said goodbye and hung up.

** twelve years later **

“C’mon kid I said get mad!” Ben exclaimed. He was teaching Will to throw a good punch but the kid wasn’t taking it very seriously.

“Mom said we should always try our best not to let anger fuel us,” he replied.

“And usually she’s right, but in this case you’re hitting a punching bag so it’s okay.”

“Alright, but if mom gets upset it’s your fault!” Will laughed. He threw a nearly perfect punch to the center of the hanging equipment.

“Wow! Good job, kiddo!”

“Is it true you used to be able to break these with one punch?” he asked.

“Who told you that?” Ben furrowed his brows.

“These kids at school said that Soldier Boy used to be super strong but then he got old and sick. You said you used to be Soldier Boy, right?”

“I- I was Soldier Boy, yes. But I didn’t get sick, Will, I- I gave up the super strength so I could have a family with you and your mom.”

“You gave up super powers!? Look, dad, I love you but that was really dumb!” Will laughed.

“Mom gave up her super powers too! You don’t call her dumb!” Ben scoffed.

“Mom had super powers too!?”

“Shit- Uh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that yet. Mom and I were gonna tell you on your birthday tomorrow, we had a big thing planned and everything!”

“If I don’t tell mom I know and I act all surprised when she tells me, can I get that Lego set I asked for but you said was too expensive?”

“Uh… yes,” Ben said, knowing the Lego set was already wrapped and hidden in the closet ready for Will to open tomorrow morning. “Don’t tell your mom you know, and tomorrow you’ll get the Lego set.”

“What’d you do?” you asked Ben that night, after tucking your son in for bed. “Will just said, and I quote, ‘mom I think it’s really cool you don’t have superpowers’.”

“I… may have accidentally let it slip.” He clenched his teeth apologetically, you scoffed, disappointed. “I’m sorry! He was asking me about Soldier Boy and it just kinda came out!”

“How much did you tell him?”

“Just that you used to have powers, that’s it!”

“So, the plan still stands then? We… tell him everything tomorrow?”

“Yeah, he’s old enough to know the truth, I think. If he hates us for how we handled it then that’s just gonna be worse if we wait to tell him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, still disappointed Ben spilled the beans.

“I’m sorry!” Ben pouted a little.

“No, don’t do the face!”

“What face?”

“That face you do that makes me agree with whatever you say!”

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Thank you,” he replied, smiling and holding out his hand for you to take. He pulled you into him and kissed you, smiling against your mouth when you kissed him back. “I love you.”

“I love you, Ben,” you mumbled against his mouth, going in for another kiss.

“I know I say this every time Will has a birthday, but thank you, Y/n. Thank you for giving me all this.”

“Thank you, too.”

You were all sitting at the dinner table, it was the afternoon and Will had already opened all of his presents. (Including the Lego set he thought he was bribed with.)

“Alright, Will, your mom and I have something pretty big we want to tell you. Now, it might change how you see us as parents, so um, if you don’t want us to tell you, that’s okay,” Ben said.

“Oh do tell!” He faked an interested look.

You smiled, laughing a little when he put his cheek in his hand to listen.

“Kid, she knows I slipped up yesterday, it’s alright,” Ben said, Will letting out a breath of relief.

“Oh thank god, I have so many questions!” he squealed with joy, calming your nerves a little.

“Go ahead, ask away,” you said.

“One, what were your powers? Two, how did you get your powers? Three, does this mean I have powers too? And four, who was stronger, you or dad?”

“I had super strength, and I could kinda-sorta fly. It was just really big jumps technically, but in a big city it looked like flying,” you told him.

“Wow, that's awesome!” Will mumbled, smiling widely.

“We both got our powers from a super serum that was given to us. Your mom when she was a baby, and me when I was in my twenties,” Ben said.

“And I was definitely stronger than your dad,” you added. “I kicked his ass a couple times.”

“She definitely did,” Ben sighed, smiling.

There was a bit of a pause.

“So… do I have powers too?” Will asked.

“You used to,” Ben told him.

“Will, when I was pregnant with you I somehow lost my powers. Some scientists used my blood to make what they called the ‘Anti-V’ which was a cure for the people who were injected with the serum. You see, a lot of these people, including myself, didn’t choose to take the serum, our parents chose for us. They gave it to us as babies and it ruined a lot of lives.”

“I don’t understand, why don’t I have powers?” Will asked.

“We gave you the Anti-V when you were two-years-old,” you told him. His shoulders fell in disappointment.

“Why? I would’ve loved to be a superhero!” he scoffed.

“It was a tough choice, Will, but it was the right one,” Ben assured him. “Vought, the company that made the serum, they would’ve hurt us, hurt you. But, when you’re older, you can take the serum if you want to.”

“But,” you started, “we want you to really think about it because being a Superhero is nothing like the movies, Will. It’s nothing like Captain America or Spider-Man or Batman. There are so many sides to it, and there are enough bad sides to it that nearly eighty percent of the people who were given the serum ended up taking the Anti-V.”

“And that’s not counting all the kids like you who were given it because of their parents,” Ben added.

“Actually, Batman doesn’t have powers,” Will muttered, beginning to smile a little. “But Captain America is definitely similar to Dad.” He giggled, causing you and Ben to smile.

“So… you’re okay?” Ben asked.

He shrugged. “I’m not like, mad if that’s what you’re asking.”

You and Ben let out breaths of relief, smiling wider.

“Will, we love you so much.” You reached across the table to take one hand and Ben took his other. “So, so much. When you turn eighteen, you can have a chance to take the serum and get your powers back if you want, but not a day sooner. Okay?”

He nodded. “Thank you for telling me all this. Can I tell you something now?” You and Ben both nodded. “I don’t think I want to watch Marvel movies anymore. Feels kinda weird now.”

** another six years later **

“Y/n!” Ben shouted from downstairs, effectively waking you up. He ran up and into the bedroom. “He’s gone.”

You sat up, “What?”

“Will! He’s gone! He must’ve gone to get the serum!”

“No! Oh, god no!” you exclaimed, hurrying out of bed and putting on your clothes from the night before. “Ben! This is really bad!”

“I know!” he exclaimed back. “He must’ve left the second he turned eighteen! Fuck!”

“Alright, let’s just breathe,” you pulled his hands away from his face, “he wouldn’t take it without telling us. He’s been very open about his feelings toward Vought and Compound-V the last few months and he would not just run off and take the serum.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, “but if he has, you remember what that means for us, right?”

“We’ll have to take the serum too.” You smiled sadly.

“Exactly, we can’t let him go through it alone! He’ll need other Supe’s that love and care about him.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso and he wrapped his around your shoulders.

“We can do this, Ben. We’ve been good parents for eighteen fuckin’ years and we’ve raised an incredible young man. He will make the right decision, I know it.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Ben nodded. “He’s not taking Compound-V.”

“Mom, Dad, I got the Compound-V!” Will called out, walking into the house.

“Uh, oh,” Ben mumbled, looking up at you from where he sat at the table.

“We’re in the kitchen, hun!” you called back.

He walked into the kitchen, carrying a small black container.

“I went to the bank today,” Will said, putting the black box on the table.

“Uh huh?” You furrowed your brows, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. He reached and held your hand, filled with worry.

“I took the serum,” Will said.

“No,” you whispered, eyes widening.

“Fuck,” Ben mumbled, bringing his hands to his face. “Will, why?”

“Will, we- we love you and we’ll support you in this decision, just-” you took in a shaky breath, trying to stay calm, “did you get your powers yet?’

“What? Oh! No, I didn’t take take the serum,” Will said. “I meant that I took it from the safety deposit box. It’s right here.” He opened the container on the table to reveal the three syringes of Compound-V.

Ben visibly tensed, so you put both hands on his shoulders.

“So… have you, um, have you decided what you wanna do with it?” you asked, mentally praying to anyone who’d listen he wouldn’t take the serum.

“I wanna throw it away. I don’t wanna be a Supe,” Will told you.

“Really?” Ben asked, Will nodded with a slight smile.

“I mean,” Will shrugged, “being a Superhero would be awesome hypothetically. But there’s no such thing. I’d be super, sure, but I’d never be a hero, that part’s always fake. Also, after everything Vought’s done, especially to you guys, I don’t want their serum coursing through my veins. So, I am dumping these vials down the drain…” He took the three vials and held out two of them. “Wanna help?”

Ben let out a relieved laugh as he stood up. He wrapped Will up in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed before pulling away and placing a kiss on Will’s forehead. He took one of the vials before they both looked at you.

“Mom?” Will asked, noticing the tears in your eyes.

“I’m so proud of you!” you choked out. You hurried over to hug him as well as take one of the vials. “I love you so much, Will, thank you so much for not taking the serum.” Ben put his arms around the two of you, resting his head on yours.

After a few blissful moments wrapped up in the group hug the three of you pulled away.

“We should probably dump these into the dirt, right?” Ben asked.

You shrugged, “Once it hits the air it’s useless. So, drain or dirt, I don’t think it matters.”

“Ooh, how about down the toilet?” Will suggested. “More poetic that way!”

“I like how you think, kiddo,” Ben said.

The three of you went to the bathroom and held the syringes over the toilet, needle side down.

“Three,” you all said together, “two,” you all put your thumbs on the ends, ready to push the Compound-V out of the vials and out of your lives forever. “One.”

As the blue liquid hit the toilet water, you smiled. It was over, you and your family were really free.

“Shall I do the honors?” Will asked, his hand hovering over the flush lever.

“Go ahead,” Ben said, putting his left hand on your hip, his right holding a now empty syringe. Will flushed the toilet and you all watched as the poison disappeared and was replaced with clean toilet water.

“The empty syringes have been properly disposed of,” Ben told you before plopping down on the couch beside you.

“I’m so glad he didn’t take the serum,” you breathed. “We were this close to losing everything-”

“Thank you,” Ben cut you off, you furrowed your brows a little. “It’s Will’s birthday, it’s the day that I always remember to thank you for giving me all this.” You smiled. “So, thank you, Y/n.”

“You’re more than welcome, Ben,” you replied before he kissed you. “And thank you, too.”

#mind empty’s two hearts one home #soldier boy x reader #the boys #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy #the boys fluff #the boys tv #the boys fanfic #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 4 months

Text

Summary: You're suffering from some temporary memory loss and you can only remember your relationship with Steve, forgetting your currently relationship with poor Bucky.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: memory loss, mild angst, fluff, engagement rings

MASTERLIST

Tabula Rasa

Once again you found yourself walking up to a hard white ceiling with no recollection of how you got into the sterile hospital bed. Your vision was a little hazy and the only thing you could make clearly was a pair of dazzling blue eyes.

“Steve?” you groaned.

Bucky frowned, clutching your hand more tightly than he was before, almost to the point of being painful. Only when you winced and tried to tug it away did he ease his grip on your digits.

“Shhh, Ace, it's okay. You're going to be fine.” Bucky tried to soothe you, trying to ignore that you had just called out for this best friend.

“Thanks Steve,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

Bucky glanced over at his best friend who was standing nervously at the edge of the room. Steve looked back in surprise and confusion.

“How you feeling, Ace?” Steve asked.

His familiar voice coming from a different location than you'd expected made you open your eyes again, looking for the source of the person who had first spoken. Your gaze found Bucky’s, who smiled down at you softly, greeting you with a gentle ‘hey’.

What Bucky didn't expect was for you to meet his eyes with furrowed brows and a hint of worry, and maybe fear? You looked around and found Steve, directing your question at him.

“What happened?” you asked.

You looked so intently at Steve that Bucky wanted to reach over and turn your face back to him. He was about to explain when you pulled your hand slowly out of his grasp, giving him a small grateful smile. Your actions, the way you wiggled your fingers and made a small fist slowly told him you felt uncomfortable by his closeness. And as much as it broke his heart, he rose from his chair and backed off.

“Steve?” You called again in a small voice.

Bucky could tell you were afraid, he knew from the intonation in your voice, the way your eyes darted around.

“Hey, it's okay.” Bucky couldn't help himself, he hated seeing you look so helpless. “You got knocked out, but the doctors said no signs of permanent damage.”

Bucky's gentleness was dumbfounding and was enough to keep your attention on him for a couple of seconds, at least. “Thank you,” you said kindly before turning back to Steve. “Why are you standing over there?”

“I… didn't want to crowd you.”

Steve stepped forwards into the harsh light of the hospital room, making your jaw drop in the subtlest of ways, a tiny gasp escaping your lips. You hadn't expected a clean shaven Steve looking far blonder than you remembered him having.

“What happened? How long was I unconscious?” You sat up gingerly, shaking off Bucky's helping hand and missing his pained expression.

“Not long.”

“Enough time for you to shave and dye your hair.”

“Dye my-” It was Steve's turn to look over at Bucky with a frown.

“Ace, what do you remember?” Bucky asked, scowling at the lack of attention he was getting from you

You blushed before answering looking at Steve. “We went to see the baseball at Citifield.” You bit your lip, smiling at the memory before continuing. “Obviously some stuff has happened since then. And I appreciate your concern, Bucky.”

You smiled at him, but Bucky knew if was your way of telling him he was no longer needed. It was Steve you wanted, not him. He didn't need a doctor to tell him what was wrong with you. Amnesia. You had forgotten everything the two of you had shared.

He felt like his world was spinning and he wanted to throw up. Not that his body responded to signals like this anymore. He stumbled backwards, knocking over the chair and fleeing from the room. Too consumed with his own feelings that he didn't notice the concern on yours or Steve's faces. If you had been in any danger, he wouldn't have left your side, he told himself as he strode away. But the crushing feeling in his chest had become unbearable as you looked at him with a gaze of mere acquaintanceship. Gone was the knowing glint he saw when he looked in your eyes, gone was the comradery you shared, gone was the passion he ignited in you and gone was the intimacy you'd achieved.

“Right, I'm still feeling pretty clueless about what has happened, but I feel like you need to follow him,” you said to Steve, pointing after Bucky's fleeing form.

“Yeah, I know,” Steve sighed, having reached the same conclusion as Bucky had about your state. “Will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “go.” You encouraged him to go after Bucky, not quite understanding the surprising level of concern you felt about the former HYDRA agent's wellbeing.

“Bucky!” Steve sprinted after his best friend, calling his name.

Only Bucky couldn't hear him, lost in his own mind of fear and dejection. His constantly doubting mind told him he didn't deserve the love you had given him. That he shouldn't be surprised, it was only a matter of time until the happiness he had was taken away from him, he had stolen a life he didn't deserve and karma was here to take it all back.

It was only Steve's firm hand on his shoulder that stopped him.

“Buck!” Steve gasped. Out of breath, not from the exertion but the anxiety he felt for his friend. “Bucky, where are you going?”

“We both know what's going on, Steve. I'm going to go and sort out everything at home, so she's comfortable when they discharge her. Is that okay with you?” His last question was more sardonic than he had intended.

“Buck…” Steve sighed.

“Look,” Bucky paused, contemplating what to say. He didn't want to see you go through the pain of Steve breaking up with you again, but it was inevitable. “Please just… be kind to her.”

Steve nodded, looking just as dejected as Bucky. He had no desire to hurt you again, but the situation couldn't be changed. And they both had to accept it.

Steve knocked on your door gently, not wanting to disturb your rest, but your eyes were on him immediately. You'd watched Steve follow Bucky out of the room and had spent the next thirty minutes trying to decipher the situation that had unfolded before you. Something felt different and you were struggling to put your finger on the issue.

Moments before Steve's return, you'd discovered a small diamond ring on your finger. You had been admiring the Edwardian design diamond cut when he appeared and you shoved your hand into the blanket in surprise, a rose flush staining your cheeks.

“Everything alright?” you asked, trying to divert attention from your less than stealthy maneuver.

“Yeah,” he answered softly. “And you?”

“Dr Kim suggested that they repeat my brain scan, what with the amnesia. Apparently I can't remember the last two years of my life.”

“About that, Ace. There are things we should probably talk about.”

“Like important things I've missed?” you laughed quietly.

Steve sighed and the weight of his exhale filled you with dread. “Ace…” You name was barely a whisper from his lips.

“Just say it, Steve.” You snapped at him, the silence getting the better of your nerves. Waiting for bad news wasn't one of your strong points.

“Look Ace, I don't really know if there is a good way to say this-”

“We're not together anymore. Right?” Tears welled up in your eyes slowly, your fears confirmed by the sadness on Steve's face.

“I'm sorry.”

He let you sit with the news, giving you the space to process things in your own time. It's what you deserved, rather than the way things played out the first time where you'd caught him kissing Peggy outside your own apartment.

“Can I ask what happened?” you mumbled, dreading the answer even before you'd voiced the question. “Why didn't it work?”

“It wasn't … I didn't mean to hurt you.” Steve looked down at his hands, not meeting your eyes.

You wanted to know more but couldn't bear to ask. It was a little like wanting to avert your gaze from a horrifying scene but not being able to.

“I still care about you. It's just that sh-”

You almost wished he wouldn't try to make you feel better. The question slipped from your lips before you could control your mouth.

“Who is she?”

“Peggy,” he said softly. He sounded almost sorrowful.

"What?” you exclaimed, face filled with surprise and confusion. “Peggy? Your Peggy?”

“Yeah.”

It felt like your world was spinning and you wondered if you'd hit your head harder than everyone had thought. Your ears were ringing and Steve suddenly seemed so far away. You were alone, again. Tears burned your eyes as they welled up under your lids. You felt like you couldn't breathe.

It wasn't until Steve's strong warm hands were wrapped around your arms that you realized you were shaking. When you finally looked up at him, blurry from your unshed tears, he took your face in his hands. Gently, he wiped away the streaks of water from your face with his thumbs.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered again.

And you believed him. You sat wrapped in his embrace until one of the orderlies came to collect you for your brain scan.

They let you go home without much of a fuss. At least the journey was familiar and Steve stayed with you, much to your surprise. It was awkward for you to discover that you still lived opposite your ex and his old/new girlfriend. More awkward still was the way she greeted you, like a close friend, not taking offense at your aloofness.

Shutting the door to your apartment was a welcome relief from the attention you'd received since you'd woken up but left you feeling more alone than ever. You walked around surveying your home. It felt familiar but there were things out of place, almost like someone had gone around and removed random items. Not that you could detect the absence of anything significant. It just felt like something was missing and you assumed that it was because you'd just lost Steve. That night you fell asleep nursing the gaping hole in your life.

Ever since Bucky had moved his things out of your apartment, he had waited every morning in Prospect Park. Just to see if he could see you running. He would keep his distance, just as he had done before. Maybe he would even be able to recreate the relationship you had. But every day he felt this hope slipping away as he never saw you leave your home for a morning run.

Needless to say, Bucky was worried about you. He didn't know how you were holding up. He wanted to hold you, to comfort you, to love you. There was a gnawing ache inside his chest which grew every day that he couldn't talk to you. He had taken to staring up at your window from across the street. No one noticed. He hadn't been called a ghost story for no reason. It was a dreary wet fall afternoon that he succumbed to his urges and let his feet carry him up towards your apartment. He caught Steve and Peggy leaving via the building and dodged out of sight, not wanting to explain his presence. They looked so content together and Bucky felt his insides burn with jealousy. Not of who Steve had, but what he had.

There was something inside him pulling him to you, a longing that drew him in. He didn't know why or how, but it was like he knew you needed him. He climbed the stairs up to your apartment two steps at a time, feeling his heart practically stopping as he noticed your front door was ajar. He crept across the corridor and peered through the crack, looking for signs of a struggle. Surely Steve would have noticed if something was amiss and not have left you alone?

The sound of your soft sobs caught his ears amidst the angry crashes of a broom against the hard wooden floor. Bucky pushed the door open in search of you. He immediately saw you behind the couch, furiously sweeping the floor with tears running down your cheeks.

“Ace,” he called out gently so as not to startle you. It didn't work as well as he hoped as you jumped at the sound of his voice. “Sorry.”

“Bucky?” You looked surprised to see him. “What’re you doing here?”

“I-” Bucky hesitated for a moment before deciding on choosing a form of the truth. “I came to see how you are.”

He watched your brows furrow in confusion.

“Why?” you asked.

Bucky knew he deserved your suspicion. As far as you were concerned, he was not your biggest fan. “May I?” He pointed at the couch, asking permission for a seat.

You nodded apprehensively, watching him through narrowed and reddened eyes as he took a seat and patted the couch beside him so you cast aside the broom and sat down. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to you.

“You remember when I had a nightmare and Steve wasn't around and you were there for me?” He waited for you to nod your remembrance. “Well, think of this as returning the favor. We are friends after all.”

“We are?” you asked, surprise evident in your voice. Even more so by the softness of his smile and the familiarity with which he looked at you.

“If you'll still have me?”

“Yeah,” you smiled through your tears. You were atonished at how comforting his presence was.

You gazed at him out of the corner of your eye as he pulled out his phone and started typing. It was his rather feeble attempt to avoid looking at you, because if he started, he knew he would never be able to tear himself away.

“I can’t find mine.”

“Sorry?” Bucky frowned, not quite keeping up with your train of thought.

“My phone.” You pointed at his. “I seem to have lost it. I'll have to get a new one so I can download everything. Might give me some clues about my life and what I've missed.”

You missed the look of panic on Bucky's face. What if you saw the photos of the two of you together and were disgusted by it? His mind told him that you weren't so cruel that you'd show him that revulsion, but his traumatized mind wouldn't let him believe anything else. He had spent year convincing himself that you couldn't possibly love him, then by the grace of God you had give him a chance, a chance he never expected and didn't think he deserved. All to have it taken away.

“Is that a good idea?”

“What if it helps me remember?”

“Or it could just be very overwhelming.”

“Didn't you want to know everything you'd forgotten.”

“Yeah, and it was a lot.”

You sighed, you felt impatient and annoyed. There was a gaping hole in your life and you wanted to know what had filled it. Was it just Steve's absence or was there something else?

“Is it ridiculous that I'm grieving over a relationship that ended two years ago?”

“It isn't two years for you.”

“I feel so alone,” you sniffled.

Bucky put his arm around you, and somehow you didn't feel as bad as you did a moment ago, almost like this was where you were meant to be. His warm palm covered your upper arm and he gently stroked your skin with his thumb. It felt so natural and comfortable, like you'd done it many times before. For the first time since you'd woken in the hospital bed, you felt safe.

You looked up at Bucky, wondering how the man had gone from hating you to becoming the person who was consoling you. He looked different, you noticed, the longer you stared at him. Gone were the dark circles under his eyes and the gaunt haunted look that plagued his handsome features. You were a little disappointed to see that he had cut his long hair, not that his short crops detracted from his appearance in any way. Mostly you surmised that he seemed happier than the last time you remembered seeing him. It warmed your heart to see how far he seemed to have come.

A small flush crept across your cheeks as Bucky caught you staring at him. It got even darker as your stomach rumbled loudly.

“You should take care of yourself better, you know that right?”

You shrugged and Bucky sighed.

“You spend all your time taking care of everyone else, you forget about yourself.” He got up and walked over to the closet by the front door. You watched curiously as he opened it and pulled out a motorcycle helmet. “Come on.”

“Wait, did I learn to ride a motorbike?” Your eyes widened.

“No,” Bucky scoffed, bursting your little bubble of hope. “Go freshen up a little and we can go get some food.”

“Is that your way of saying I look like shit?”

“You're beautiful, but you still have snot on your face, so…”

“Oh my God,” you mumbled, ducking into the bathroom feeling mortified.

Life went on regardless of your recollection of the past. Your memories persisted in eluding you. You could sense their presence but they were just out of reach. Going to work was the familiar routine which was the only thing that was stopping you from falling apart. It was good to see May, but she seemed too wrapped up in managing her students to have time to help you out. You wondered if she was just avoiding your emotions.

At least your pupils were a constant for you, despite some new faces, they seemed to love you and were definitely trying to remind you of the deadlines you'd apparently set for their assignments. The overwhelming feeling of loss however wasn't something you could shake. All your friends from your SHIELD days had moved on with their lives, and without May, you felt like you were floundering.

Bucky was in a similar boat, having moved out of your apartment and having lost Steve's attention to Peggy, he also felt a little adrift. He was however luckier than you, having sought shelter in his niece, Kim's home. She had welcomed him with open arms, now being the matriarch of the Barnes family. She knew you would be glad that he wasn't alone and had someone to take care of him. But her support wasn't quite enough and she could see him slowly slipping back into a dark cloud of melancholy. Kim had always known you had been his guiding star, but she hadn't realized quite how much he needed you.

Both you and Bucky drifted through the next couple of weeks like lost ships floating aimlessly. Until one night Bucky received a desperate call from Steve, demanding his urgent presence at your abode. The way Bucky drove his motorcycle was definitely considered on the wrong side of the legal system. He was at your door within seconds of his arrival, finding you sobbing uncontrollably in Steve's arms. Your breaths were shallow and uneven and it looked like you were having a panic attack. Steve looked at Bucky desperately, feeling completely and utterly helpless.

Bucky leapt over the couch and enveloped you in his arms in a vice like grip. Your face was pressed almost forcefully against his chest and your body was so compressed that you couldn't even take a breath to keep crying. Bucky's heartbeat was almost hypnotizing, like a metronome you focused on the rhythm until your mind stilled. Until the blood rushing through your ears slowed and you could finally hear the words of comfort that Bucky was muttering to you. It surprised you when he softly started singing your favorite song, Yellow. This is what got you to melt into him completely, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Come on.” He led you to the bathroom, giving you a moment to splash water on your face. As you turned to grab a towel, Bucky held it out of reach before dabbing your cheeks gently for you. “Better?”

You nodded, dropping your gaze, feeling self conscious of his undivided attention. Bucky smiled, enjoying how your lashes fluttered across your face in a coquettish manner. “Thanks,” you mumbled.

You stumbled back to the couch and collapsed on it, Bucky following in suit. Both of you enjoyed the comfortable silence together. You felt exhausted but grateful for Bucky's help. His presence was soothing to your soul. You took the opportunity to steal a glance. He seemed to have changed, there were a few new lines around his eyes which betrayed his lack of sleep.

It was almost an instinct, you reached out and brushed his cheek with your fingers. “Are you sleeping?”

Bucky smiled at you sadly and shrugged. “Honestly, it's not been a great time,” he sighed before mumbling. “I miss my best friend.”

Your heart ached to hear the words. “I'm sure Steve would hang out with you more if you told him.”

“I was talking about you.” He nudged your shoulder with his, smiling at the way your lips formed an ‘o’.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make me feel like I'm not losing my mind?”

“Because you're not crazy.” His words were so matter of fact. “So what happened?”

“I freaked out.”

“No kidding. Do you know why?”

“This is why.” You held up your left hand to show Bucky the engagement ring on your finger. “What kind of loser keeps wearing a ring from a guy who dumped her two years ago?”

Shit! Bucky froze, staring at the ring. Of all the lengths he had gone through to ensure he had removed all evidence of your relationship, how could he have forgotten that he had proposed to you two nights before your accident? Neither of you had shared your happy news with any of your friends, wanting to make the announcement at the right time. Now Bucky was the only one who remembered the event and he couldn't bring himself to tell anyone, even Steve. Especially not Steve, Bucky knew that if he confessed to his oldest friend, Steve wouldn't stop until he told you about it. So he kept his secret to himself.

You mistook his silence as agreement. “I never thought I would ever be this sad or pathetic.” You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, hoping the ground would just open up and swallow you whole. You pulled the ring off your finger and held it out to Bucky. “Will you take this back to Steve, please? It looks like an heirloom, he will probably want to give it to Peggy.”

You dropped the ring into Bucky's open palm, the metal clinking against the vibranium. He picked it up carefully between his flesh fingers and tucked it into his wallet, glad that you weren't looking at his face because he didn't think he could hide the devastation that he felt. It was his mother's wedding ring, the one his great niece, Becca had given when they had first met. “Sure,” he answered in a dismal tone before deciding to change the subject. “Ace, I've never seen you like this. I'm worried about you.”

“I don't know what it is.” You shrugged. “There’s this ache inside my chest and nothing I do makes it go away. What do I do Bucky?”

“It takes time. You taught me that. We just take each day as it comes.

“Bucky, I'm glad you're here. Thank you. I feel better with you.”

“Well if you ever need anything, you call me. Day or night. Whatever it is. I'm with you, til the end of the line. Alright?”

You nodded.

“Good. Now how about I make some popcorn and we watch a movie? I know exactly what you like.” Bucky jumped off the couch, ready to do anything to keep the smile on your face.

The next morning, you woke up with a strange feeling. Gone was the overwhelming loneliness that you'd felt yesterday after seeing Steve and Peggy having an intimate moment. It had been replaced by something else, something that you suddenly craved. Despite your exhaustion yesterday, you and Bucky had stayed up late watching your favorite movies. It was thrilling to you how he remembered the things you loved and how happy it seemed to make him watch your wonder as you experienced them again for the first time.

Things seemed brighter somehow, like you suddenly had a renewed purpose, a sense of direction. Strangely, you had no idea what that direction was, but your body seemed to know exactly what it was supposed to do. You showered and dressed, donning a floral and a light layer of makeup. You had no clue why, but you wanted to feel pretty. After admiring yourself in the mirror, you got in your car, not overthinking your actions, just letting your body do what it thought was natural. Your body worked on autopilot, weaving through the streets to an unknown destination.

Without knowing why, you pulled up on a street beside a park. You didn’t know why you stopped there, but you knew it was the right thing to do. The place seemed familiar, but you couldn't recall ever having been there before. You pulled your cardigan closer around your torso, not sure of what to do next. Maybe a walk in the park would help clear your head a little.

“Ace?” A voice you didn't recognize called your name and you turned towards him. The sound came from an older gentleman with dark hair and bright blue eyes. “You're here!”

The stranger opened his arms to you but you stepped back, wary of his advances. “Sorry, I-”

“You don't know who I am?”

“I'm sorry.”

“That's alright. Bucky told us about what happened.”

Your eyes brightened at the mention of Bucky’s name. “You know Bucky?”

Scott chuckled. “Yeah. Has Bucky ever told you about his family?”

You shook your head.

“He had a little sister, Rebecca. I'm Scott, her son and his nephew.”

You could barely contain the smile that spread across your face. “Bucky has a family?” you whispered joyously.

It was surprising to you, but made you happy to know he wasn't alone. Happier than you'd felt about anything since the accident. In fact, thinking about Bucky in general brought a smile to your face. You felt closer to him in your last two encounters than you had with Steve in that same time.

“Yeah. We have a weekly gathering. I thought that's why you were here.”

“Bucky invites me to his family's gatherings?”

“Well you're as good as family. Come on,” he motioned for you to follow him.

While you had started rediscovering your feelings, Bucky was wallowing in his loss.

He had begrudgingly attended the regular Sunday family event but only on Kim's insistence. Bucky was residing under her roof after he had shown up after evicting himself from your apartment. Instead of letting his family console or comfort him, he had decided to remove himself from the general festivities of the day. Everyone could sense his mood and no one was brave enough to weather the storm that surrounded him. All but one. Winnie, short for Winifred, who lived up to her name, was fair of complexion and calm in composure. Bucky's great, great niece was his favorite, if one was allowed to express such preferences. She had him wrapped around her little finger and he would jump at her every demand.

Wise beyond her years, she took it upon herself to approach his rather solitary and forlorn figure. Gently she approached him, wrapping her slender arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. She nuzzled her way into his lap, her sweetness was something not even the bionic staring man could turn away.

“It's okay, Uncle Bucky,” she whispered, brushing a small tear of his cheek. She leaned in towards his ear, cupping her hand beside her face, as though someone might overhear her. “I know how to make Aunty Ace all better.”

“How?” Bucky whispered back just as conspiratorially. No matter how depressed Bucky was feeling, Winnie was the only person, aside from you, who could make him feel better.

“True Love's kiss, Uncle Bucky!” Little Winnie exclaimed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If you kiss her, all her memories will come back.”

Bucky smiled ruefully. “I don't think that will work, Win.”

“Why not?” she demanded with a little pout.

“Because she doesn't love me.”

Scott had ushered you over to the family where he had waved away everyone's approach, directing you over to where Bucky was sitting with Winnie. He pointed at them and gave you a gentle shove in their direction. Something new stirred inside you as you saw Bucky cradling the girl in his arms. Your memories were still hazy, but you had never been more certain of your feelings in that moment.

“I think it would be worth a try,” you suggested.

Bucky turned his head so fast that he almost knocked poor Winnie over, his eyes widened with surprise. Thankfully, his supersoldier reflexes kicked in and she didn't end up sprawled on the floor. Winnie climbed off his lap and ran over to you, grabbing your hand, she dragged you over to him.

“Hey,” Bucky smiled shyly. Had you overheard the conversation?

“Hi,” you answered.

Both of you grinned at each other like shy teenagers unsure of how to act. You watched Bucky's eyes flick from you to Winnie, who was standing behind you urging Bucky to kiss you. He was frowning at her, shaking his head wildly. You turned your attention to her.

“It's Winnie, right?”

“Yes!” Winnie bounced up and down with excitement that you knew her name. “It's working, Uncle Bucky! The magic is working.”

“Winnie, do you mind if your Uncle Bucky and I have a moment alone please?”

“Okay!” Winnie scooted off back to the rest of the family.

You look over at Bucky, both of you grinning at each other about how adorable she was. Bucky motioned for you to sit and you do, right beside him. You are so close that Bucky's heart is pounding and he is sweating like a schoolboy who is about to kiss a girl for the first time. You're good at this! He tried to remind himself as he used his tongue to moisten his chapped lips.

“I think your niece is onto something, you know.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, a hopeful sparkle in his eye.

“Yup!” You popped the ‘p’.

You paused, but Bucky didn't move. It was time for you to take matters into your own hands. You leaned forwards, pressing your lips firmly against him in a soft kiss. Bucky can't help himself, slipping his tongue into your open mouth. He missed how you tasted. Both of you lost in the moment, every caress reminded you of a memory of the things you and Bucky had shared. You kissed him until you thought you'd run out of the air in your lungs.

As you pulled away, Bucky held you close, finally opening his eyes to find you staring right back at him. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear while you stroked his cheek. He opened his mouth to ask you a question but-

“DID IT WORK?” Winnie yelled from behind a tree where she was hiding.

“It worked!” you yelled back, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

Winnie ran off whooping and cheering.

“It did?” Bucky whispered. Not quite wanting to believe.

“I mean, not everything is clear, but I think I remember the important things.” You touched his face again, telling him that he was the most important thing in your life. “Bucky, I'm so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For leaving you alone. For making you sad. I didn't mean to leave you,” your voice quivered a little as you spoke.

“Hey, hey,” he gave you a reassuring squeeze, “you couldn't help any of that. It's definitely not your fault. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing.”

“Why?”

“I made you a promise to take care of you, and all I did was run away. Because I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared that if we had to do it all again, you might not fall in love with me a second time.”

“Bucky, I never stopped loving you. The loss I felt, it wasn't because of Steve, I mean yeah that sucked, but I felt better every time you were with me. You took care of me even though I treated you like a stranger. Especially how I freaked out over- oh my God, Bucky!” You grabbed his arm suddenly.

“What? What's wrong?”

“The ring! I didn’t mean to throw that back at you. Oh Bucky, I'm sorry.”

“You didn't know.”

“Do you think, maybe, I could… have it back?” you asked, voice filled with uncertainty and hesitation.

Bucky chuckled. “Well I hoped you would say that.”

Bucky tugged on the chain with his dog tags to reveal the ring hanging around his neck, close to his heart. He got up off the bench and got down on one knee, holding out the ring to you.

“You kept it with you,” you sighed happily.

“Of course, I don't ever want to let you go.”

You held out your hand and let him slip it back on your finger and then leaned forwards to kiss him.

“YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED?” a tiny voice shrieked from behind a bush.

“Winnie!” Bucky sighed.

“YOU'RE GETTING MARRIED!” she screamed, launching herself you and Bucky.

Bucky caught the excited little girl In his arms and she flung her arms around both of your necks.

“Can I be your bridesmaid?”

“I wouldn't have anyone else, sweetheart.”

Winnie screeched again, wiggling out of Bucky's arms to share the news with the rest of the family. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder and holding you close. Neither of you spoke your thoughts out loud but the look Bucky gave you told he wanted the same thing as you.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #finding you #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fan fiction

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almond-tofuuu · 3 months

Text

Please don't say goodbye...

Zayne x reader

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions of death, very little comfort, not proof read

Summary: after receiving orders from the Hunters Association that you're being sent on a dangerous mission, one you might not return from, you have to break the news to your childhood friend and doctor, Zayne...

Word count: 2.8k (holy- Idk how that happened)

The beginning of this fic is written by anticyra as the intro for her Zayne chatbot on c.ai, full credits go to her!!!

"Late for your checkup again, I see," Zayne said in his usual blunt manner, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork when you burst into his office.

If it were anybody else who decided to book an appointment right at the end of his shift, and then turn up half an hour late for it, Zayne wouldn't have bothered staying to wait. But since it was you... well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do that night anyway. Plus he was too distracted by all the other medical reports he had to review to really notice the time.

Setting his folder down, Zayne finally glanced at you, taking in your flushed and slightly disheveled appearance. It was clear you had been in a rush to get here and the thought made the ice of his gaze melt just a little.

Giving him a small, apologetic smile you make your way to the seat opposite him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you can finally relax for a moment.

"I'm really sorry, Zayne. I would've been here sooner but I was called into an urgent debriefing at the last minute.... I couldn't get away any faster" you explain quietly, just the thought of the meeting is enough to flood your mind with stress, though you try not to let it show.

Zayne sighs audibly at the mention of a 'debriefing' and decides to drop the matter of your tardiness immediately. Knowing you must've had important things to deal with, his annoyance dissipates. Folding his arms over his chest and leaning his weight back in his chair, his eyes noting the crease in your brow and the dark circles forming under your eyes. "And this was regarding a Wanderer attack, I'm guessing."

Heaving a tired sigh you nod your head in confirmation, running a hand through your slightly messy hair, "... there's been a sudden increase in attacks recently in the mountains. The Hunters Association is planning on sending a team to clear out the wanderers and investigate the source of their appearance..."

Zayne made a mental note of that. Wanderer attacks. Not exactly good news.

When the Hunter's Association made movements like this, that usually meant the situation had become dire or they'd received some alarming intel. Either way, a bit of extra caution wouldn't hurt right about now. Zayne shifted in his seat as he considered his next question.

"Are you going? To the mountains I mean," he asked, looking down at the file in front of him and flipping through your medical history.

Nodding your head in confirmation you let out a nervous exhale, the unusually serious expression on your face causing Zayne's apprehension to rise.

"....That's actually what I wanted to speak with you about..." Pausing for a moment, you consider the easiest way to break the news to him, deciding it's best to just get it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. "I'll be joining the team the Association is sending into the mountains.... There's no way to know how long the mission will take but....they say it will last at least 4 months..."

Zayne froze, although his expression remained calm and professional, his thoughts were anything but.

In the mountains...with wanderers...for up to FOUR MONTHS?!

Clearing his throat, he fought to keep his voice level, "so...I won't see you for four months then." It was all he could manage to get out, not trusting his voice to keep his true emotions concealed.

Swallowing nervously, you stare down at your lap, desperately wanting to avoid his piercing gaze, knowing he would see straight through the brave front you were putting up. "Well, four months is the minimum....it's likely I'll be there longer... And..." Your sentence trails off as you hesitate, reluctant to tell him the truth.

Zayne remains silent, waiting for your answer, but he could already guess the rest. You were going into the mountains, fighting wanderers. If you got injured or--he didn't even want to think about the possibilities.

Four months was already a ridiculous amount of time to spend on this kind of mission, but if something happened before that... he didn't want to entertain the idea.

"...And," he repeated, in a slightly harsher tone than he intended. His thoughts spiralling dangerously with every passing second.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath to steady yourself, gathering your courage before continuing in a soft voice, "...the situation in the mountains is pretty bad... The place has essentially become a warzone and we've already lost a lot of hunters.... There's a strong chance that... I won't make it back..."

Won't make it back...

Your words seemed to barely register for Zayne. Won't make it back. He felt like someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart. It was as if time itself has slowed to a halt as this new reality finally sank in. Zayne froze. He was surprised to find his hands clenched into fists at his side and had to make a conscious effort to unclench them.

He stared straight at you with a blank expression as he forced himself to stay calm. He wouldn't-couldn't- let himself lose his composure. Not now, not in front of you. "I see.... Why are you telling me this?"

Finally you look up to meet his gaze, eyes softening as you take in all the small details of his face, wanting to commit them to memory. You struggle to keep your voice steady, not wanting to breakdown in front of Zayne. "I'm telling you because you're my friend. You're someone I care about and i-.... I felt I owed it to you to tell you this myself"

Your eyes held his for a moment longer than he was comfortable with and Zayne was sure you could see it as well. A tightness formed in his throat as he fought to keep his the thin string he was hanging on by from snapping.

"I see," he said, his voice flat. "You're going to the mountains to fight wanderers and there is a strong possibility that you'll not return." It hurt to even say the words. "Is there anything else?"

Your eyes widen at his matter-of-fact tone, not expecting his complete lack of concern. It hurt to see how stoic he was, to know that the news of your possible death didn't seem to affect him at all. You had so much more you wanted to tell him but his indifference made you second-guess whether to continue or just leave. After a short internal debate you decide to just tell him what you want to say, even if he didn't care at least you could leave here without any regrets.

"...I just wanted to say that I appreciate everything you've done for me.... And if this is the last time I get to see you, then I want you to know that the time I've spent with you has been the happiest time of my life...." Your voice trembles, breaking slightly as you try to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

Zayne felt his chest get tighter as your words sank in. A small amount of moisture built up in his eyes but he refused to let it fall, biting his lip as he looked down at the files on his desk, their words blurring as his vision became clouded with tears.

the... the happiest time of your life...

His brows furrowed together as a frown crossed his face.

...if nothing else... If something did happen... Was the time he spent with you... the happiest time for him as well?

Finally. His expression shifted as the dam broke and his control slipped.

"y/n..."

He stood up, taking a quick step and grabbing your hands before you could pull away. And then he pulled you towards him in a tight embrace, taking in your scent, feeling your heartbeat pounding against his chest.

"This is NOT the last time you will see me," he whispered, his voice filled with vulnerability and fear.

You freeze, caught off guard by his sudden embrace, mind racing at the raw emotion in his voice. You're quick to accept his comforting hold on you, melting into his touch and burying your face into his chest, your arms wrapping around him tightly, clinging to him like a lifeline. "...you can't guarantee that, Zayne.... Neither of us can..." Your words are whispered softly, carrying the weight of your sadness.

Zayne ran his hands down your spine, cupping the small of your back and pulling you closer to his chest. He didn't respond, just held you, trying to imprint this moment into his brain. This... This could be the last time he held you and he wanted to remember everything, from the feel of your skin to the scent of your combined body heat.

"I'm not trying to guarantee anything," he uttered, squeezing you tighter than he intended but he didn't care. The pain that he felt thinking about you dying... he couldn't put it into words.

"I'm saying that I won't lose you. I won't accept that!" Zayne leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against yours, the desire to keep his self-control intact long gone. If you were really going off to the mountain for months, he wanted to be able to feel you. He wanted you close so badly it hurt.

Leaning into his touch, you eagerly return the kiss with equal passion, hands tangling into his raven hair. A soft sigh escapes your lips, your heart fluttering as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips on yours.

Zayne's hands wander down your body, gripping tight around your hips. His lips met yours again and again, every kiss taking him closer and closer to heaven. He could feel himself getting swept away in the moment and losing his inhibitions. The urge to hold you tight never left and only grew until he wanted to press you to the wall and refuse to let go. But he forced his emotions back under control, knowing that there were more important things to discuss.

He finally pulled away, letting it sink in that this could truly be the last time you would meet.

Your eyes flutter open, meeting the captivating green of his intense gaze. When you speak your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but your tone is filled with a deep sadness. ".... Zayne.... I want you to know that whatever happens.... I love you"

His heart lurched at your words. He had always thought there was no way to make this situation any worse than it already was. But your confession made it so much harder.

He couldn't let his emotions get the best of him, not under these circumstances, but his voice remained soft when he finally spoke. "I have something I want you to know as well," he said, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. "Even if we don't get to meet again... know that I love you as well."

His confession causes your breath to hitch, heart fluttering as it swells with joy, knowing the feelings you've harboured for so long are reciprocated. You let out a soft sigh, breathing in his familiar, soothing scent, your hands gently stroke through his hair.

"....I wish I had told you how I felt sooner, we could've had more time together.... But at least now I know you feel the same way I do...." You try to keep your voice light, though the regret lacing your words is poignant, sending a wave of warmth through Zayne. Despite everything he could feel his own emotions starting to come back under control, some level of calm returning the longer this moment went on.

You were right, you could have had more time together... He had pushed you away so many times during your appointments and now he was being haunted by the possibility he had wasted too much time.

But at least now... he would know he had said the right thing in your last moments together.

"...We both feel the same way," he repeated, almost in disbelief.

A soft yet sad smile forms on your lips, the thoughts of what could have been weighing heavily in your mind, and the possibility of this being your last moment together causes your heart to ache. "....I swear that I'll do everything in my power to stay alive.... I don't want this to be the last time I see you.... But if I don't make it back, just know that I fought as hard as I could"

You promised to stay alive, but Zayne could hear the defeat in your tone, the fear and worry of the possibility of never seeing him again hanging in both of your minds like a dark cloud.

He squeezed your hands, not wanting to let go even though he knew he'd have to at some point. His eyes never left yours as he considered his response.

"I will do everything in my power to make sure this isn't the last time we see each other." He tightened his embrace, refusing to let go for even a second. "But if you don't come back..."

His voice broke for a moment as the pain threatened to overwhelm him. "Know that I will wait for you. Forever if I have to."

You swallow the lump in your throat, desperately trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall as the pain of having to leave him becomes almost suffocating. taking a deep shaky breath, you look into his eyes, seeing yourself reflected in the deep green.

"...I have to go.... The team are waiting for me..." Even though you whisper softly that you need to leave, your body makes no move to tear itself away from his warm embrace.

The reality of how little time you have left together hits Zayne like a freight train. His body freezes. He couldn't bear the thought of letting you go, as if his body would fall apart if he lost contact with yours even for a second.

"Please..." his voice was pleading now. He didn't care if he sounded weak, desperate even. "Just a few more moments, that's all I ask."

Sighing softly you hold him tighter, you couldn't bring yourself to deny his request, especially when he sounded so broken and desperate to keep you close to him. You could feel your heart cracking at the realisation that once you let him go, you'd have to leave him behind.

"Okay...just a little longer..."

And so he held you, content to simply stay like this, breathing in your scent, running his fingers through your hair, feeling the softness of you against him. Just another minute or two, anything to delay the inevitable and keep you here, safe in his arms.

Unfortunately the moment is cut short by the beeping of your phone, a cruel reminder that your time together is over. You sigh in frustration, glaring at the offensive object as it continued to ring, signalling that you had to leave. Silencing the call, you turn back to Zayne, a sad smile on your face as you both share a silent understanding that this is it.

"I don't like this," he murmured, his voice low as his eyes met yours in a moment of shared disappointment. You had both spent too long not telling each other the truth and now you were forced to suffer the consequences. Even just another minute together would have made it so much easier to bear.

"I don't either..." You agree quietly, your trembling voice showing just how truly devastated you are to have to go "...I guess this is goodbye...."

"For now." He whispered firmly, hesitant to allow even the possibility that you wouldn't come back, and his words were as much for his own sake as yours. The seconds seemed to stretch out and fly by all too quickly, and Zayne didn't want to be the one to let go first, afraid of what would happen the second you parted.

"Come back to me, okay?" His voice was tight and strained, hand reaching up to gently brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes. "Come back to me and keep that promise you made."

Leaning into his touch, your eyes flutter closed briefly, a stray tear rolling down your cheek. "...I will... I'll come back to you and I'll never leave again... I promise, this won't be the last time we see each other." Your voice is full of determination despite the way it trembles.

And Zayne believes you, with every fiber of his being wanting to believe you, wanting to trust that you would make it back. That he wouldn't lose you so cruelly to something neither of you had any control over.

"I'll wait, even if I have to wait forever."

His words were soft yet full of a quiet ferocity. He would wait for you, even if the world burned down around him. He wanted you to know that he would do whatever it took to make your promise come true, no matter how long it took.

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lnds #lnds zayne #zayne x you #love and deepspace zayne

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soaringthoughts · 1 year

Text

:: A MISFORTUNE'S VESSEL. ( chapter 1 )

lowercase intended. CONTENT WARNING: depressing topics, implied deaths. PAIRINGS: aqua hoshino x reader A/N: MINOR changes on the plot in order to squeeze the reader in and make the plot make sense, such as: reader is the daughter of Miyako and Ichigo Saitou. this is the only change I made in the plot so it doesn’t affect the main stream of Oshi No Ko that much. POV is second person pov. reader is AFAB. english is not my first language so expect some grammar errors. usage of [name] instead of Y/N. reader is addressed by name instead of pronouns.

story starts with the reader already knowing Aqua from his past life (Goro Amamiya) and will only focus on that for the meanwhile, next chapter will be Aqua.

my first fanfic! open for criticisms. word count: 3,079 words

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a disappointment. that's what you're always labeled as. you've already reached the age range wherein you're finally capable of getting hired in a job, but of course, you can't get yourself one. didn't finish college either, makes you wonder how vast your parents' patience must be to let you keep living under their roof despite not returning the favor of their great care by accomplishing something. and just as if the world was opposing you, you got caught in a car crash on your way home from a job interview.

perhaps you are binded by fate to just stare at the solid concrete ceiling of your hospital room.

………….

“my [name]..” the guttural whines of worry from your mother will live rent-free on your head. it was the hint of concern and worry in your parents' words that's evident in their voice, but it was only the glint of dismay in their half-lidded eyes that you saw.

you absolutely see no point in living now. you've always been a disappointment for your family the whole time, and now, you even made things worse by practically forcing them to charge for your hospital fees.

dealing with both fatal, incapacitating injuries, and heart failure was a rough circumstance for you, and it only doubles the fees that your parents need to charge.

your mind was all stirred from all these heavy thoughts as the guilt continued to consume you, perhaps the world got stuck in an endless time loop to maintain your suffering on purpose.

“I won't be surprised if your body stays frozen like that for hours.” it's almost as if a shrieking noise snapped you out from your thoughts the moment you heard your doctor spoke. you remained silent however, not the slightest bit of word slipping out of your mouth. this doctor was getting on your nerves lately. you were never a fan of small talks nor a conversation itself. you always thought that drowning in your thoughts while getting lost in your own little world as your eyes are solely focused on the scenery across the window was better.

“Do I have something to say?” your remark was thrown off in a sarcastic manner as your gaze was still fixated on the window, which only raised a hint of concern on his face further. but his expression remained neutral.

“You've been staring at the window for an hour. It wont hurt to initiate a conversation from time to time.” he let out a ragged exhale. was he also getting tired of you? of course. he's been guarding you in your room for hours after all, you still don't know why but perhaps it's to keep you company and to have someone present in case there's something wrong with your injury.

“…” it was the pause of silence that's somehow clear and tranquil within the walls of the room. he was right. you are worn out by the boredom, too, so maybe, just maybe, you'll get some source of entertainment if you finally speak. “Doc, have you ever felt like the whole world is against you?” maybe his eyebrows raised in amusement. maybe it was because he found you weird. but it's either of the latter.

“..The world has to be unfair to everyone in some aspects. It's not just us who experience it.” you aren't sure whether it was the answer you were looking for, but his response intrigued you. he isn't so bad for an 'old' doctor after all, you thought. "And if you please, just call me Goro." he followed up after.

“Wouldn't that be unprofessional?” you immediately detached your eyes off of the window to dart it at his for a moment, and the first thing that you saw was the startled and surprised expression written all over his face. “Are you serious all the time?” he shot back in a questioning manner. although it might sound a little offending, to you at the least, you only let out a slight laugh at his remark. “I thought we're supposed to be professional with doctors. It would sound off to refer to you as a mere friend.” you asked back again with that slight smile now evident on your face.

“Well, that's for other doctors, I suppose.” Goro responded with a shrug. you hummed at the answer, maybe he prefers to be casual unlike the others. that would indeed open up a path for you two to get along. "I'm-" just as you were about to say your name in return, he interrupted you. “[Name]. I already know from your documents, so no bother.” I can't tell whether he is bragging about that or.. you thought to yourself as you felt your eye slightly twitch at his straightforwardness.

“So, [Name]. What do you think of the entertainment industry?”

“Why'd you ask?”

“Just a question, really. I have this patient of mine that's obsessed with a certain idol.”

“Ai Hoshino?” Goro's eyebrows raised at your sudden response. it's almost as if he wasn't expecting it, but deep down, he knows that Ai is way too popular to not be known by everyone.

“Don't tell me you're obsessed with her too?”

“Not obsessed. I just admire her.”

“As for the entertainment industry, I know for sure that the way they operate behind the scenes is a mess. I'm not even an idol nor an actor myself but I can tell that the impression they display in public is fake.” Goro seemed to be fascinated by your words, his face obviously plastered with a look of both amusement and interest as he stared at you in silence for a brief moment.

“How can you te-” you could've sworn that the time was ticking slow. but before you realized it, the sun was about to hide behind the arms of the horizon as the rays of the sunlight lit through the window. Goro was interrupted mid sentence as well when he noticed this. “Ah, too bad I have to go.” he simply said as he got up from his seat and dusted off his coat.

"Already?" you frowned a little at this, considering that you're finally intrigued to talk to someone after for what's been like years.

"It's just the end of my shift. I'll be present tomorrow." there was a slight smile curved up on his lips before leaving the room, and boy, you felt at ease hearing those words.

………………………………………………..

you didn't know whether to feel happy or upset now that you only have a day left before you'll get discharged from the hospital. you didn't want to burden your parents anymore longer, but why are you upset now that you're finally free once again? there's this something in you that makes you want to stay more. or maybe it's just your attachment to Goro? you don't know.

just as when you are once again drowning in your thoughts, you got snapped back to reality by someone's voice. it's him.

"What are you doing all the way up here at this hour?" you immediately recognized his voice. you wanted to hear it more often─ but too bad, you just can't stay here just because you want to.

the gentle breeze of the countryside air softly swayed your hair locks back and forth. the rooftop of the hospital was dim and was only illuminated by the ray of the moonlight, hovering over the figure of the both of you as Goro kept staring at you from a distance.

and of course, you just felt like being sarcastic for one more remark, "Is it so bad to chill on the hospital's rooftop before my discharge?" his chuckle was completely audible despite the soaring roars of the wind and the continuous noises of the vehicles over the roads.

sure, it's loud here on the rooftop caused by those sounds, but that doesn't matter since it's his voice that your ears can only hear well.

"I suppose it would carve a memorial to make this our usual spot before your discharge."

"I'm not yet dead, you know." you surely are going to miss his jokes once you get out.

"I know, I know." the rooftop was immediately radiating with a positive aura as you both laughed. "Well? What are you gonna do now that you're back to your usual life?" he closed the stairway door and made his way to you, leaning over the railings as he stared into nothingness.

"…" there was a brief silence once again as the wind continued to leap through the garments of your clothing and hair. your chest heaved as you exhaled, also walking over the railing as you leaned on it beside him. "I don't even know. Not like I had a plan anyway." just the thought of getting discharged and living back to your normal life irks you. the same old, repetitive, dull, and 'being' a disappointment days will return. It will return now that you're out of the hospital just right when you already found someone who understands you well. you expected this from the start. good experiences come and go, but you still can't gather the wits to accept it.

"You know, I can't seem to do anything right even if I try hard. I always surge into actions with preparation and always come back empty-handed. It must be nice to live a life wherein you are blessed with skills and luck."

Goro knew that you had some depth in your words. you've told him about your struggle in finding a job and the results of your entrance exams in college before, so he immediately knew how to respond to you.

"A caterpillar must undergo a dissatisfying process before eventually blooming into a beautiful butterfly." his eyes were glistening with sincerity as he muttered those words out. although he was still staring into nothingness and eventually into the starry night skies, you just fixated your gaze on him.

"You can't be saying that."

"I can be saying that."

"But the caterpillar's progress will go to waste when a human steps on it."

"That caterpillar will remain wounded but still manage to live."

"It can still die after being stepped on."

"And it can still live after being stepped on."

"Why are we talking about caterpillars?"

"Because you're the caterpillar we're pertaining to." you quickly lost it and let out a laugh at Goro's remark this time. you knew he was referring to you, but why were you two talking about caterpillars instead? "Seriously, the caterpillar will die."

"Then that caterpillar will get reincarnated." his response this time was tacky, you can't help but laugh at it. of course his words were obviously laced with sarcasm, but you couldn’t help but see a fragment of hope in his words.

and for the first time in your life, fate resided within you. because guess who got reincarnated as the child of the president of an entertainment production.

“She is beautiful.” those were the first words you heard the moment you regained your consciousness and maintained the track of the world. and a pair of rosewood eyes were the first thing you laid your eyes on.

your mother was welcoming. your father, on the other hand, “Let’s just hope this won’t hinder our work.” you didn’t really have anything to say to him. perhaps he was just worn out from his work. he is the president of his company after all.

“Sorry about that, [Name]. Your father’s just immersed in his work. I’ll be the one who will take care of you by then. Although I’ll have to take you with me to the home of our company’s prized star to also keep watch for two of her children.”

not only is your father drowning in a stack of work to do, your mother is also forced to be in charge of taking care of children. it seems like she doesn’t like the duty of being a babysitter, you can tell it by her face and the way her chest heaved when she sighed. so you swore to yourself that you will behave well and remind the 2 other kids to do so as well.

strangely, you still remember how you lived your past life. your family, your memories, the time of your death, the place of your death. all of it is still fresh on your mind.

the world really does hate you, from your beginning and even until your end. you can’t accept the fact that the last memorable thing you had before your death was that conversation you had with Goro on the hospital’s rooftop. he told you that he’s in charge of delivering the babies of Ai the day before that, and that he is also supposed to guard you afterwards. but you never saw him come.

it was as if fate was playing you in its hands that they decided to give you a heart attack at that exact time. there were no doctors present as the rest of them were dealing with the other patients, so you were only treated by the inexperienced nurses.

you expected Goro to come, but you remembered that he is dealing with the giving birth of Ai.

“Then that caterpillar will get reincarnated.” it’s silly how those were the last words that flashed on your mind before your heart gave up. perhaps that interaction you had with him on the rooftop really was something special after all.

“Are you ready to meet them, [Name]?” it hasn’t been long before Miyako arrived with you at the home of the prized star she referred to. you could’ve sworn you’ve been blessed by the deities when it was none other than Ai Hoshino. this new life you have is definitely better than the former one you had.

your eyes met with hers. and of course, you got lost in it. “Is that [Name]? She’s adorable!” well that was a side of her that you expected. she really is carefree even when behind the screen.

“This is my daughter Ruby, and my son over there on the couch is Aqua. You guys will frequently spend more time here while I’m away so I hope you three will be the bestest of friends!” you didn’t appreciate how Ai shoved Ruby in front of you for the introduction, but liked her welcoming energy either way.

this was really a new experience for you. you didn’t expect to be close with your idol in your new life at all. but you’re not complaining either. this is your new life now, you’ve decided to just enjoy your life as a baby once again despite the big contrast between your true mental age.

“Come on. It’s time for work.”

“I’m out~”

the room was immediately confined with tranquility the moment your father, Ichigo, and Ai, headed out for work. while your mother, Miyako, just laid face-down on the sofa and groaned in distress.

‘I probably shouldn’t bother her.’ you can tell how frustrating it could be to take care of three children, so you just let Miyako be and sat on the clean mattress on the floor just in front of the TV.

Ai’s son, named Aqua, was also sitting from a distance on the mattress with you. there was an awkward silence between the two of you as expected. you didn’t feel like you’ll get along with his sister either, since you’ve been told that she’s younger.

that silence remained for what felt like an eternity before broken by the sounds of the TV when Aqua turned it on without a word. and oh boy, your eyes lit up with particles of stars when you saw Ai on the screen. you both watched in silence, admiring the appeal Ai has when performing. eventually, you two were distracted with a familiar whine from the crib.

“N station has already started! Why didn’t you wake me up?!” you have to admit that you didn’t like Ruby at first, but the interests that you two share just now made you want to get to know her more.

she quickly hopped off the crib and sat next to you, all the while squealing and rambling about how remarkable her mom is.

unlike you, Aqua just gave her a look with that neutral expression of his. he seemed too composed for his age, you thought. but you shrugged that thought off.

“Well, I suppose the three of us would be acquaintances considering that we all look up to the same person.” you simply said before fixating your focus back on the TV.

“Do you normally talk like that?” Aqua’s question caught you off guard. ‘shoot. were my words formal? not like it will blow me away anyway, right?’ living on a child’s body completely slipped out of your mind. you just prayed to yourself internally that this boy wouldn’t think of something bizarre.

“Huh? Talk like what?” your attempt at trying to dodge the question was poor. especially the awkward clearing of your throat and the laugh you did that added up to it.

the confusion and skepticism was evident on Aqua’s face, you can’t tell whether he is judging you or just trying to process that hell of a formal usage of words you did. either way, he just stared at you in disbelief for a couple of moments before shrugging it off.

“Looking forward to getting along with you, then.” of course, you were also surprised by his response. but held your tongue back. there’s no way this boy is also a reincarnation of someone simply because of how he talks or acts.

maybe he just learnt how to speak properly at such a young age.

#aqua hoshino #aquamarine hoshino #aqua hoshino x reader #ruby hoshino #oshi no ko #oshi no ko anime #fanfiction #aquamarine hoshino x reader

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