#(i also didn’t remember until i saw a post on here about it)
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mejaemin · 2 days ago
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200 - lee minhyung
wc: 1.2k
summary: mark cannot lose you, so in a desperate effort to let you know, he does so in the way he knows best
warnings: fighting, they make up dw, i mentioned a crude joke towards woman being made but it was never explicitly said
an: what did i eat today that made me to a triple upload ?!?! and none of those three were pre written ?!?! crazy.. but anyway here’s my first (solo) work for markle sparkle !!! lowkey i prefer the minhyung version of 200 over the regular.. but anyway pls enjoy this !!! also tysm to @viasdreams for helping me come up with an idea for what the argument should be about 😙😙 ly queen
listen 🎧! : 200 - minhyung’s version
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mark is so done.
it’s been about a week since “the incident”, and a week of going through extreme withdrawals and torture on his end from being shut out. within your circle of friends and quite a few people outside of it, your “argument” has become quite a popular topic amongst the people.
it’s honestly very petty of you, but you can’t help it. your whole situation just doesn’t sit right with you. for reference, you were hanging out with mark and his friends last week, nothing new. it started when his one friend started making sexual jokes, and of course it’s gross but boys will be boys, so you chose to distract yourself in your phone rather than torture yourself with listening to that nonsense.
the real problem arose when said jokes started turning strange, almost feeling objectifying towards women. it was quite uncomfortable to have to sit in the middle of a conversation, but thankfully you didn’t need much incentive to leave when mark started laughing along with the group. you immediately snapped your head around to look at him, giving him a look, and you could tell that was all you needed to do because he was immediately leaning towards you, but you paid him no mind and just left.
he was following behind you, and you ignored him all the way until you were halfway down the block. he grabbed your wrist, and maybe your hormones were a little off balance because you did make it out to be a little more than it should have been, but you turned around and snapped at him. in public, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, you and mark had an argument about why it was so inappropriate for him to laugh at such crude jokes. of course, in the heat of the moment it went nowhere, and ended with him driving you home (he drove you to the hangout, and despite being angry he still didn’t want you walking) in silence.
as soon as you got home, you bid him a very upset goodbye before sitting in your frustration. you managed to calm down, able to admit that you were a little harsh on him, but upon remembering the fact that he just couldn’t get why you were upset made you upset all over again. thus, you got heated all over again and decided to block mark on everything until you were able to be calm about things again (that was an excuse, and the real reason you did that was just to be petty).
the next few days he tried contacting you many times, even through other people, and you completely ignored it. at some point you did start feeling bad, but you were already too deep into it to go back now. so, you kept on, even going to the length of ignoring him when you saw each other on campus. he truly looked like a kicked puppy, well, as far as you could tell without making direct eye contact, and it sucked, but you kept walking. he had yet to admit he was in the wrong, and maybe you both were, especially you for not letting him admit it, but oh well.
after about a week and a half of avoiding your boyfriend, you’re laying on your couch, alone, scrolling through your phone when you get a notification from one of mark’s friends. the text doesn’t say much, simply a pair of eyeball emojis followed by a screenshot of mark’s profile on spotify.
he’s a music major, and you’re aware of the fact that he sometimes posts his projects on spotify or other platforms.. however, this time is a little different. the numbers on his account are way larger than they were the last time you checked, and there’s a whole other album added onto it. immediately you’re going to your own app to look at his profile, and you see that it’s for real. the numbers next to all his songs have changed from under a thousand to ten times that, and there’s an ep with five songs under the ‘latest release’ section.
immediately disregarding whatever grudge you were holding, you play it. the first song, titled 200, begins with the quiet strumming of an acoustic guitar, and you hook it up to your speaker to really feel it. he starts with his vocals, and your heart picks up. despite being more involved with rap, you always told mark you loved his vocals. you always asked him to do more songs with them, because to you they sounded godsent. it seems that after all this time, he’s finally decided to listen. there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s talking to you, the lyrics full of love and mentions of little things that have always been staples in your relationship. it’s really the cutest, and your heart hurts at the fact that you’re ignoring him while he releases a song all about your relationship while simultaneously reaching a notable point in his career.
immediately grabbing your things, you get into your car and make your way to mark’s apartment. on the way, you unblock him on everything and send him an apology message before driving to him, as close to the speed limit as you could. he tries calling you, but you ignore it in favor of the fact that his apartment is close and you’re already almost there. on the way you listened to the rest of his ep, and all the songs are including the same things, all about love with one of them even including an apology with him nearly pleading for you to come back to him.
as soon as you get to his door, you unlock it with the spare key he gave you and let yourself in. he’s in the kitchen, his back facing you, and you waste no time in running up to him and closing him in your arms.
“oh my god, markie, i’m so sorry..” you squeeze him tight in your embrace, and although he’s startled and more than a little upset, he turns around and returns the favor.
“it’s alright, babe, come sit.” he pries you off of him, leading you to the couch where he sits down with you, keeping an arm around your shoulder.
“i heard your songs and i just, i’m sorry. i feel really stupid, and i shouldn’t have ignored you, and i really hope you can forgive me.” you ramble, saying anything and everything to help explain just how terrible you felt.
his thumb rubs reassuring circles into your shoulder as he turns his head to face you completely. “it’s okay, baby, i forgive you. and i’m sorry too, i was being immature and there was nothing funny about what he said.”
you nod, feeling a little more relieved, yet still very stupid now that you saw how easy everything was discussed. “so… we’re okay?” you ask, eyes meeting his with an unsure look.
he turns his body to face you fully, using one hand to hold your face and lean in to kiss you. “of course. let’s not do that again though, okay? i was on the verge of death, bro, i swear.”
seeing how quickly he returned to normal, you giggle, nodding as you lean back into his arms. “of course, mark, it was torture for me too. now.. you seriously made five songs about me in the span of a week and a half all because of this?” you tease, and that’s how you spend the rest of the night, celebrating his success and loving each other like the way he says in his music.
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moonlightperseus · 9 months ago
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it’s objectively so funny that it’s only been months in game since sophomore year meanwhile in real time it’s been like 4 years
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flashhwing · 8 months ago
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thinking about how sexy and fun and crunchy desolation!Tim was. tma fandom went off with that one
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obsessedwithceleste · 11 months ago
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Lessons in Love
(Or why Enzo should be banned from advanced potion making)
Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader
Summary: Ft. Enzo being bad at potions, the Ravenclaw common room door, and more than one accidental love confession.
word count: 3.3k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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A deep sigh escapes your lips as you walk purposefully through the empty halls of the castle. You loved Enzo. Really, you did. But how that bastard had managed to squeeze enough O.W.Ls out of his arse to get into advanced potion making was absolutely beyond you.
It’s not that you thought your childhood best friend was dumb per se. You simply thought his talents lay elsewhere. Like in herbology. Or anywhere really where adding a pinch too much powdered moonstone didn’t result in a glittery pink potion exploding all over the front of your robes. This never would have happened of course, if your usual, equally talented, potions partner, Theodore Nott, had actually bothered to show up, but god only knew where that boy had wandered off to.
Walking into classes earlier that day you had been giddy with excitement. While potions may not have been Enzo’s forte, it was most definitely yours and advanced potions was finally giving you the challenge you had been craving. Amortentia, your professor had said, is the strongest love potion in the world, thereby making it exceptionally difficult to brew. You already knew this of course as it had all been detailed in the days readings. Not only would it make someone obsessively in love, but it also had an addictive scent, changing to fit what one was most attracted to. Now that was all well and good until one was covered in it.
Originally, you figured that all would be fine. Enzo profusely apologized, quickly following up with a joke about how “at least you’ll smell nice for once.” But oh how right he’d been. It started with students accidentally bumping into you in the corridor as you went from class to class as they subconsciously leaned in to follow the alluring scent. A minor inconvenience you thought. (Although you did have to choose to ignore that third year almost getting impaled on a statue’s sword because he wasn’t paying attention after you passed.)
But then Cho and Marietta couldn’t stop leaning in to get a whiff of the scent all throughout the start of charms, causing Flitwick to continuously shoot concerned glances at the three of you. You eventually caved, moving quickly and silently to the back of the class room where Enzo was sat with the rest of the Slytherins. As soon as he saw you making your way over, he leaned over, whispering something in Daphne’s ear beside him. She gives you a quick look of knowing pity before moving into the empty seats usually claimed by Theodore and Matteo who were, unsurprisingly, still no where to be found.
“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry,” Enzo mumbles, at least having the decency to look embarrassed as you plop into the seat beside him.
“This is horrible! I did not need to know that Marietta’s amortentia smells like bloody Cormac McLaggen or whatever his name is,” you hiss in response.
Enzo lets out a quiet chuckle, sneaking a quick glance at your house mate.
“Hey,” he whispers after a moment, “What do you smell anyway? You must be going mad having that stuff all over you.”
You shoot a glare at your friend. You had a sinking feeling he already knew, considering he had been poking fun at you for weeks. You shudder remembering all those disgusting kissy faces Enzo had been making at you from across the library just last week. Bloody bastard was fishing for confirmation. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll simply go away you think to yourself. Enzo however, takes your silence as an admission of guilt, a grin spreading across his face.
“I knew it. So tell me y/n, what does dear Theodore Nott smell like? Cigarette smoke? Hippogriff dung?” He snickers.
“He is my best friend, Lorenzo,” you whisper, giving the boy beside you another withering glare.
Enzo’s face falls at this.
“I’m your best friend.” He grumbles.
“I don’t know why. You’re mean to me,” you reply with exasperation.
He immediately perks up again at this, giving you a slight nudge.
“So I’m right? You do like Theo?” He asks excitedly.
“Enzo, I will avada you, and make it look like an accident,” you hiss in response.
“Come on, y/n, I’m your best friend, you have to tell me these things,” he pouts.
“Oh really? Like how you have to tell me about how you’re probably smelling Daphne’s shampoo right now? Or is it her lavender perfume?” You ask innocently, batting your lashes.
Enzo goes beet red at this, gesturing wildly at you to lower your voice.
“Hush woman! She’s right there!” He hisses.
You say nothing, only giving him a triumphant grin before turning back to Flitwick to try to salvage what few notes you’d been able to take down that lesson.
The final straw occurred during ancient runes when poor, unsuspecting Hermione sat down behind you and asked with a look of bewilderment if you had been showered with Draco’s cologne that morning. Her look of absolute horror only grew as you told her of your distressing situation. You thought she might faint when she realized that Draco had been within earshot and now had a shit eating grin on his face. With a sigh of defeat, you give Hermione an apologetic smile before deciding it was time to turn in the white flag of defeat.
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You breathe a heavy sigh of relief as you finally come to a stop outside your common room door. You then frown, realizing you had in fact, made it to your common room door.
“What makes a raven like a writing desk?” The metallic voice of the Ravenclaw common room door asks, springing to life.
This putrid, skanky little-
“You wouldn’t want me to shove either of them up your ars-“
A low whistle catches your attention before you’re able to finish cursing out your common room’s door thoroughly.
“Whoa there feisty, let the eagle be,” Theo’s voice laughs as he steps into view.
The strong scent of roasted coffee beans and smoke that had been burning your nostrils all day hits you once again like a ton of bricks. Giving the eagle another withering glare, you turn your full attention to the looming threat approaching. You would sooner throw yourself off of the astronomy tower than let Theo know that your amortentia smelled like him. Someone had to keep the boy’s bloody ego in check.
“Full offense Theodore, I’ve had a horrendously awful day today, and I really don’t have time for whatever nonsense you’re about to start.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms at the boy in front of you.
Theo laughs again, mirroring your movements as he leans against one of the pillars lining the halls.
“Poor principessa. Have a hard day in classes without me?” He asks with a smirk.
You scowl in response. It didn’t help that you had, in fact, missed the brunette’s comforting, albeit annoying, presence all day, but you weren’t about to admit that.
“Now that you mention it, I didn’t even realize you were missing. What snake hole did you slither off to today?” You ask, the lie sliding easily off your lips.
Theo cocks as eyebrow at that but leaves it be.
“Matteo wanted to ditch, had to baby sit. Make sure he didn’t get into too much trouble. You know how it goes,” Theo replied shrugging his shoulders. “And what’s a pretty little witch like yourself doing skiving off class?”
Theo takes another step forward.
“Don’t come closer!” You yelp before you can stop yourself. You had no interest knowing what Theo would smell if he got close enough. He frowns at you however.
“And why not?” He challenges, taking another step towards you. This boy really did not take well to being told what to do.
“I- I smell. Really bad. Had to leave class, I just- ya know, smelled, so bad” You splutter, mentally kicking yourself. Who says that in front of the guy they like? Why were you like this?
Theo’s thick brows shoot up at your declaration before he takes a final large step towards you and leans in, pressing his hand against your forehead before moving it down to feel your cheek.
“Y/n are you ill? Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey? I can walk you there if you’d like.” He says, any bit of snark his voice previously held long gone.
“I’m fine Theodore, really.” you say, batting his hand away.
“Are you sure?” He asks, looking at you disbelievingly.
He leans in again and takes in a whiff of your scent and you immediately tense, freezing where you are. God damn it. His brows furrow.
“Y/n, you smell perfectly normal, maybe a bit stronger than usual, but definitely not bad.” He says, looking even more confused.
Before you’re able to fully process the words that just came out of Theo’s mouth, Enzo and Pansy come barreling down the hall towards the two of you in a fit of giggles.
“Y/n! y/n, you know I’m sorry, really I am, but if dousing you in amortentia is all it takes to get Draco and Granger to make complete fools of themselves in front of each other, I’d do it again!” Enzo exclaims between breathy laughs. “You haven’t seen ferret boy run past, by chance, by the way have you?
“Sorry, amor-what now?” Theo asks, blinking as he purses his lips.
You look between the three of your friends in alarm, praying no one mentioned anything after Theo had just announced that you smelled perfectly normal to him.
“Oh, you’re going to wish you were there! After you left, Draco was so pleased with himself. Looked like a kid on Christmas. Kept trying to flirt with Hermione until she finally sent a flock of doves to run him out of the classroom! Professor wasn’t too happy bout that one. Let us go early to find the blonde loon,” Enzo says, completely ignoring Theo’s question.
“I’m sorry, amor-WHAT?” Theo asks again, louder this time.
You feel yourself cringe.
“Amortentia.” Pansy snorts. “Do try and keep up Teddy.”
“This is what you get for always skiving off class with Matteo,” Enzo adds, nodding at the boy as if he were his disappointed mother.
“Mhmm. Enzo totally floozied over y/n’s potion this morning. Blew it up all over her and she’s been having people wander up to her to take a sniff all day.” Pansy tells him with a sniff.
Theo blinks again before slowly meeting your eyes as what he said only moments earlier begins to sink in. Pansy, ever the cunning witch, was lightening quick to catch on.
“Speaking of which, I am suddenly so interested in what exactly it is that you smell, dearest Teddy,” Pansy says as her eyes flicker between the two of you, a mischievous grin growing on her face.
Theo scowls at the nickname.
“Campfire.”
“Old parchment.” You say in unison.
Pansy smirks.
“Do you smell that Enzo?” She asks, making a show of sniffing the air around her. “I think I smell- a liar. Or two.”
Enzo only snickers as he eyes the both of you up. He knew exactly what you had been smelling all day and you begin to feel panic rise up in your chest. You send a menacing glare his way, daring him to open his mouth.
“Come on Pans, I don’t think Draco and Granger are the only ones who’ll be chatting up tonight,” he says finally.
Glaring at the pair’s disappearing backs, you once again turn slowly back to the problem at hand.
“Soo,” Theo starts at the same time you blurt out,
“This is entirely your fault.”
Theo’s mouth drops open, and he has the audacity to look offended.
“How do you figure mi amore?” He asks.
“You’re supposed to be my partner in potions, but you weren’t there today, so I had to work with,” you shudder, “Enzo.”
Rolling his eyes at your dramatics and giving you a small smile, Theo lets himself relax, leaning on the wall as he towers over you.
“Enzo isn’t so bad,” he says, slowly bringing a hand up to rest on your waist, gently moving you towards him. You pretend not to notice, taking a small, nervous step forward.
“He singed off Matteo’s eyebrows last year. The year before that, he didn’t realize there was a difference between fire flower and fired flour, and his potion melted through the floor. I heard a Puff call him Slytherin’s Seamus,” you retort. “Do you realize how bad you have to be at something to get made fun of by a Hufflepuff?” He snorts at that, cocking his head in agreement.
“Well I’m sorry alright? I’ll make it up to you.”
“You’ll have to. I have to go in again to remake the potion. Don’t want that bad mark on my grade.”
Theo only hums at this, as you’re finally standing nose to chest with him, forcing you to tilt your head up to still see his face.
“You really do smell nice,” he murmurs, pressing his nose lightly into your hair.
You make a face before nuzzling into his chest to hide the redness growing on your cheeks.
“I’m not talking about this in public. I simply refuse,” you say, trying to melt into him from pure embarrassment.
Theo looks down at you with a devilishly handsome grin before turning back to your long forgotten common room door.
“Hey, open up. She technically answered your little riddle earlier,” he tells the door.
The eagle grumbles something unintelligible as it starts to life again.
“I can always melt you down. I’m sure you’d make a great piss pot,” Theo threatens, going to pull out his wand.
The door swings open rather violently and you’re pretty sure you can hear a rather colorful string of curses come out of the eagle’s beak as you make your way inside. Having been there a thousand times before, Theo easily leads you to your shared, but thankfully empty, dorm room, closing the door behind you.
“You really don’t get along with that eagle, do you principessa?” He asks, throwing his shoes off and making himself comfortable on your bed like he usually did.
“Like you’re any better. You just threatened to turn it into a chamber pot,” you retort, falling easily back into your usual banter. This was fine. This was safe.
Theo only raises a brow at you.
“The blasted door is still mad at me for making a ur mum joke when it asked me if a chicken came before the egg in front of a bunch of second years.” You admit, letting your arms fall to your side.
Theo lets out a loud laugh at that shaking his head and extending his arm for you. You walk carefully towards the bed before hesitantly accepting his invitation. It’s not that cuddling with Theo was something unfamiliar to you, as much as you were hyper aware of the slightly awkward tension between the two of you that wasn’t usually there. You slide your shoes off as well before curling up next to him and laying your head on his chest. The two of you lay in silence and you slowly let your eyelids flutter shut, lost in the feeling of Theo’s chest rising and falling.
“You know. You still haven’t told me what your amortentia smells like,” Theo says, finally breaking the silence as he gently brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.
“Take a wild fucking guess,” you murmur, refusing to open your eyes and determined to get further lost in his warm touch.
He only hums in response, continuing to comb his fingers through the soft locks of hair.
“You know when Enzo asked me if I smelled you today, he thought you’d smell like hippogriff dung,” you say eventually.
“Fucking tosser. What did that git smell? Wild lavender?”
“And Daphne’s shampoo.”
You feel Theo snort as if he expected no less of your ever romantic best friend. Silence once again rolls over the both of you as you absentmindedly play with the edge of his shirt, rolling the soft fabric between your fingers nervously. The quiet begins to feel suffocating, so you open your mouth to speak, but Theo beats you to it.
“Champagne. And that perfume you always use. With the little white flowers. Lilies of the valley, right?” Theo says.
You open your eyes to look at him in confusion.
“That’s what you smell like.” He says, carefully running his hand down your spine, sending a shiver through you.
“I smell roasted coffee. And smoke. Not the fire-y kind though. The kind that sticks to your clothes cause you refuse to quit smoking.” You respond, looking into his eyes warily for his reaction.
Theo only smirks in response, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
“Aw mi amore, I’m what you’re most attracted to?” He asks, the teasing bait evident in his voice.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks as Theo gazed intently down at you in his arms.
“Shut up Theodore. You sure know how to ruin a moment,” you say, once again burying your face in a chest.
You feel his chest rumble with laughter before his hand snakes it way up to your chin, tilting your head up and capturing your lips with his. His lips are softer than you imagined as he moves them gently against yours. You let a soft gasp escape and Theo pulls you closer, gripping your waste tightly, and shifting you on top of him, deepening the kiss until you’re both left gasping for air.
“Was that more of what you had in mind amore?” He asks with an innocent smile, looking up at you with what you could only describe as his best baby seal eyes.
“I mean, you were definitely significantly more shirtless when I imagined it, but I can settle.” You joke.
Theo’s eyes darken however, and he lifts you as if you weigh nothing, flipping you over so that he now hovered above you, your back pinned against the bed beneath you. With one swift movement, Theo pulls his shirt up and over his head before lowering himself back down, his chest now pressed against yours.
“Better?”
You can’t help but laugh at the boy’s determination as your eyes shamelessly take in the lean muscle and tanned skin that was current above you.
“Theodore, as much as I enjoy this, you have to put your clothes on. Cho or Marietta could walk in at any time,” you tell him as you begin to make soft circles across his waist line with your thumbs, admiring the boy in front of you.
“Mm. You mouth is saying one thing, but these,” he says, placing his hands over yours, “are saying something else entirely.”
You roll your eyes, pulling your hands out from under his and handing him his discarded shirt.
“One kiss?” He asks, looking at the shirt as if it had mortally offended him.
“One kiss.”
He leans down, once again capturing your lips with his, but with more intensity this time. You feel one of his hands brush your waist as his thumb pushes up under your shirt, the rest of his hand following soon after, gripping tightly at the warm skin beneath. You let out a breathy moan when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip, and he takes it as an invitation to let his tongue explore the rest of your mouth.
An awkward cough shakes you from the haze and you look up, over Theo’s shoulder to see Cho standing guiltily in the doorway.
“Sorry,” she says, looking literally anywhere but you and the shirtless boy above you. “Bad time?”
You cover your eyes in embarrassment, feeling heat once again rush to your cheeks.
“What did I tell you!” You groan, letting your head fall back onto your mound of pillows. Meanwhile Theo has a much too self satisfied grin across his face.
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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago
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Story from the Washington Post here, non-paywall version here.
Washington Post stop blocking linksharing and shit challenge.
"The young woman was catatonic, stuck at the nurses’ station — unmoving, unblinking and unknowing of where or who she was.
Her name was April Burrell.
Before she became a patient, April had been an outgoing, straight-A student majoring in accounting at the University of Maryland Eastern Shore. But after a traumatic event when she was 21, April suddenly developed psychosis and became lost in a constant state of visual and auditory hallucinations. The former high school valedictorian could no longer communicate, bathe or take care of herself.
April was diagnosed with a severe form of schizophrenia, an often devastating mental illness that affects approximately 1 percent of the global population and can drastically impair how patients behave and perceive reality.
“She was the first person I ever saw as a patient,” said Sander Markx, director of precision psychiatry at Columbia University, who was still a medical student in 2000 when he first encountered April. “She is, to this day, the sickest patient I’ve ever seen.” ...
It would be nearly two decades before their paths crossed again. But in 2018, another chance encounter led to several medical discoveries...
Markx and his colleagues discovered that although April’s illness was clinically indistinguishable from schizophrenia, she also had lupus, an underlying and treatable autoimmune condition that was attacking her brain.
After months of targeted treatments [for lupus] — and more than two decades trapped in her mind — April woke up.
The awakening of April — and the successful treatment of other people with similar conditions — now stand to transform care for some of psychiatry’s sickest patients, many of whom are languishing in mental institutions.
Researchers working with the New York state mental health-care system have identified about 200 patients with autoimmune diseases, some institutionalized for years, who may be helped by the discovery.
And scientists around the world, including Germany and Britain, are conducting similar research, finding that underlying autoimmune and inflammatory processes may be more common in patients with a variety of psychiatric syndromes than previously believed.
Although the current research probably will help only a small subset of patients, the impact of the work is already beginning to reshape the practice of psychiatry and the way many cases of mental illness are diagnosed and treated.
“These are the forgotten souls,” said Markx. “We’re not just improving the lives of these people, but we’re bringing them back from a place that I didn’t think they could come back from.” ...
Waking up after two decades
The medical team set to work counteracting April’s rampaging immune system and started April on an intensive immunotherapy treatment for neuropsychiatric lupus...
The regimen is grueling, requiring a month-long break between each of the six rounds to allow the immune system to recover. But April started showing signs of improvement almost immediately...
A joyful reunion
“I’ve always wanted my sister to get back to who she was,” Guy Burrell said.
In 2020, April was deemed mentally competent to discharge herself from the psychiatric hospital where she had lived for nearly two decades, and she moved to a rehabilitation center...
Because of visiting restrictions related to covid, the family’s face-to-face reunion with April was delayed until last year. April’s brother, sister-in-law and their kids were finally able to visit her at a rehabilitation center, and the occasion was tearful and joyous.
“When she came in there, you would’ve thought she was a brand-new person,” Guy Burrell said. “She knew all of us, remembered different stuff from back when she was a child.” ...
The family felt as if they’d witnessed a miracle.
“She was hugging me, she was holding my hand,” Guy Burrell said. “You might as well have thrown a parade because we were so happy, because we hadn’t seen her like that in, like, forever.”
“It was like she came home,” Markx said. “We never thought that was possible.”
...After April’s unexpected recovery, the medical team put out an alert to the hospital system to identify any patients with antibody markers for autoimmune disease. A few months later, Anca Askanase, a rheumatologist and director of the Columbia Lupus Center,who had been on April’s treatment team, approached Markx. “I think we found our girl,” she said.
Bringing back Devine
When Devine Cruz was 9, she began to hear voices. At first, the voices fought with one another. But as she grew older, the voices would talk about her, [and over the years, things got worse].
For more than a decade, the young woman moved in and out of hospitals for treatment. Her symptoms included visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as delusions that prevented her from living a normal life.
Devine was eventually diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, which can result in symptoms of both schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. She also was diagnosed with intellectual disability.
She was on a laundry list of drugs — two antipsychotic medications, lithium, clonazepam, Ativan and benztropine — that came with a litany of side effects but didn’t resolve all her symptoms...
She also had lupus, which she had been diagnosed with when she was about 14, although doctors had never made a connection between the disease and her mental health...
Last August, the medical team prescribed monthly immunosuppressive infusions of corticosteroids and chemotherapy drugs, a regime similar to what April had been given a few years prior. By October, there were already dramatic signs of improvement.
“She was like ‘Yeah, I gotta go,’” Markx said. “‘Like, I’ve been missing out.’”
After several treatments, Devine began developing awareness that the voices in her head were different from real voices, a sign that she was reconnecting with reality. She finished her sixth and final round of infusions in January.
In March, she was well enough to meet with a reporter. “I feel like I’m already better,” Devine said during a conversation in Markx’s office at the New York State Psychiatric Institute, where she was treated. “I feel myself being a person that I was supposed to be my whole entire life.” ...
Her recovery is remarkable for several reasons, her doctors said. The voices and visions have stopped. And she no longer meets the diagnostic criteria for either schizoaffective disorder or intellectual disability, Markx said...
Today, Devine lives with her mother and is leading a more active and engaged life. She helps her mother cook, goes to the grocery store and navigates public transportation to keep her appointments. She is even babysitting her siblings’ young children — listening to music, taking them to the park or watching “Frozen 2” — responsibilities her family never would have entrusted her with before her recovery.
Expanding the search for more patients
While it is likely that only a subset of people diagnosed with schizophrenia and psychotic disorders have an underlying autoimmune condition, Markx and other doctors believe there are probably many more patients whose psychiatric conditions are caused or exacerbated by autoimmune issues...
The cases of April and Devine also helped inspire the development of the SNF Center for Precision Psychiatry and Mental Health at Columbia, which was named for the Stavros Niarchos Foundation, which awarded it a $75 million grant in April. The goal of the center is to develop new treatments based on specific genetic and autoimmune causes of psychiatric illness, said Joseph Gogos, co-director of the SNF Center.
Markx said he has begun care and treatment on about 40 patients since the SNF Center opened. The SNF Center is working with the New York State Office of Mental Health, which oversees one of the largest public mental health systems in America, to conduct whole genome sequencing and autoimmunity screening on inpatients at long-term facilities.
For “the most disabled, the sickest of the sick, even if we can help just a small fraction of them, by doing these detailed analyses, that’s worth something,” said Thomas Smith, chief medical officer for the New York State Office of Mental Health. “You’re helping save someone’s life, get them out of the hospital, have them live in the community, go home.”
Discussions are underway to extend the search to the 20,000 outpatients in the New York state system as well. Serious psychiatric disorders, like schizophrenia, are more likely to be undertreated in underprivileged groups. And autoimmune disorders like lupus disproportionately affect women and people of color with more severity.
Changing psychiatric care
How many people ultimately will be helped by the research remains a subject of debate in the scientific community. But the research has spurred excitement about the potential to better understand what is going on in the brain during serious mental illness...
Emerging research has implicated inflammation and immunological dysfunction as potential players in a variety of neuropsychiatric conditions, including schizophrenia, depression and autism.
“It opens new treatment possibilities to patients that used to be treated very differently,” said Ludger Tebartz van Elst, a professor of psychiatry and psychotherapy at University Medical Clinic Freiburg in Germany.
In one study, published last year in Molecular Psychiatry, Tebartz van Elst and his colleagues identified 91 psychiatric patients with suspected autoimmune diseases, and reported that immunotherapies benefited the majority of them.
Belinda Lennox, head of the psychiatry department at the University of Oxford, is enrolling patients in clinical trials to test the effectiveness of immunotherapy for autoimmune psychosis patients.
As a result of the research, screenings for immunological markers in psychotic patients are already routine in Germany, where psychiatrists regularly collect samples from cerebrospinal fluid.
Markx is also doing similar screening with his patients. He believes highly sensitive and inexpensive blood tests to detect different antibodies should become part of the standard screening protocol for psychosis.
Also on the horizon: more targeted immunotherapy rather than current “sledgehammer approaches” that suppress the immune system on a broad level, said George Yancopoulos, the co-founder and president of the pharmaceutical company Regeneron.
“I think we’re at the dawn of a new era. This is just the beginning,” said Yancopoulos."
-via The Washington Post, June 1, 2023
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ryukatters · 1 year ago
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swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader
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✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.
✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??
✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.
✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)
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Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.
It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.
Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 
Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 
He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 
“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 
“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 
Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”
For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.
“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 
Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.
And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.
Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.
He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 
How badly could this end?
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As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 
Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).
He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 
You free tonight? 
Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 
He’s starting to regret this.
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Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 
He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?
In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 
What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?
Yeah.
He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.
He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 
‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?
Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?
None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 
One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 
He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  
Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 
You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?
He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 
Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 
You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 
You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 
Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 
He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 
You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 
He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 
He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.
“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”
“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 
You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 
“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 
You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 
Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 
He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”
Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  
He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 
 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 
Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 
“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 
“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.
He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 
Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 
You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.
“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”
“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 
You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.
As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 
“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 
There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”
He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”
Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 
“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 
All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 
He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 
“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 
Good. Always so pliant for him.
“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 
Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 
He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 
“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 
“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”
You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”
“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”
“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 
“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 
With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 
Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 
You tense up, “Kats, wait—”
Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 
He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”
“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 
“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 
Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 
“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah?”
“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.
“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 
“What about us?”
“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”
You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 
“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 
You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 
“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 
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You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.
Denki Kaminari: So did it work?
You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 
You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)
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Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.
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slasher-fxcker · 5 months ago
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Slashers seeing their future S/O for the first time
Part 1
Including: Billy Loomis, Bo Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Lester Sinclair, Stu Macher & Vincent Sinclair.
Warnings: Mentions of death, slashers being slashers. This page is 18+ Minors do not interact.
A/N: Okay this is my first post on here so any and all feedback is welcome! Also, there will be a part two, I will be including all the slashers I write for I just got a bit carried away and I thought it was a bit long for one part lol. Second part will include Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Billy Lenz, Brahms Heelshire and Jesse Cromeans.
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Billy Loomis:
· This was meant to be an easy kill for Billy. Some geek that showed up at a party he shouldn’t have been at, Billy had been watching him for most of the night when he saw his target getting ready to leave. He started heading to the closet he hid his Ghostface costume in when someone crashed into him spilling their drink all down the front of his shirt.
· Billy was in two minds about whether he should give them a piece of his mind or ignore their apologies and sneak away anyway. But as he looked up whatever reply he had planned got caught in his throat. When he looked into your pleading eyes he could immediately tell how bad you felt. He didn’t realise he was staring until he noticed you were waiting for a response.
· He regains his composure and brushed off your apologies, telling you not to worry about it. You seemed relieved and he couldn’t help but smirk at how you looked around the room frantically. “Lost something?” he finally asks you, “Am I that obvious?” you laugh before holding your hand out, “I’m Y/N, Randy’s cousin.” Billy seemed to stare at your hand for a second before taking it in his and introducing himself. Maybe just this once he’d let the target go and find something worth enjoying.
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Bo Sinclair:
· Getting out of the beat-up truck Bo winced as he felt the pain in his arm of the wound that hadn’t fully healed just yet. Lightly holding the spot and remembering how one of the victims had cut him good with that knife. He sighed and shrugged the thought off before walking towards the dimly lit bar. Sitting down on one of the stools and ordering a beer.
· He soon becomes aware of a man groaning angrily at one of the nearby pool tables, “There aint no way you're winning again without cheatin’” he hears the man grumble. Bo’s fairly accustomed to the usual pool bets but what does surprise him is the feminine laugh he hears in response, he turns around to see you bent over the table lining up your next shot. He feels his throat dry up at the sight of the position you’re in and the teasing smirk that’s on your face.
· “Don’t be a sore loser Jimmy,” you laugh before sinking yet another ball into its socket. Bo can barely take his eyes off you as he leans back taking another sip of his beer. You and the man seem to go back and forth in arguing about the game, and he feels like he could watch you all night. The game is coming to an end with you clearly winning, before he even thinks about it Bo has downed the rest of his beer and is walking towards you. As you’re lining up your final shot Bo slams down a couple of bills on the side of the pool table, you look up at him and he flashed his signature grin at you, “I’ve got winner,” he says as he looks you up and down. You sink your last ball before turning back to him, “You’ve got it handsome,” she smirks. Oh, you were trouble, and Bo couldn’t wait to see how this night turned out.
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Jason Voorhees:
· It had been a quiet week for Jason, no campers, no teens, nothing. He had been out collecting wood for the fire when he found a small stone, he liked collecting bits and pieces from around the woods. Small knickknacks to decorate the shabby cabin he called home. The stone had five points and could be seen as almost the shape of a star, what Jason didn’t realise was he had spent far too long invested in the stone to notice someone walking on the trail nearby. The snapping of some sticks broke him out of his thoughts as he saw a figure nearby.
· Jason quickly shoved the stone in his pocket before walking silently to a spot where he could watch the trail without being spotted. He watched you from afar for a while, seeing you look around you as you made your way down the path. The way you watched the nature around you with a small smile on your face made Jason feel a warmth inside him. He followed you all the way to the camp grounds. You seem surprised to find the open space on your trip. You sat down on one of the stone seats before unpacking some lunch for yourself.
· It wasn’t long before you had gotten up and were walking around the small opening. It was then that Jason heard you speak for the first time which caused him to tense in fear. “Hey there little guy.” That was it, you must’ve seen him. He froze as you stepped towards his hiding spot only to stop a few feet in front of where he stood, where he thought he was hidden by the shrubs. But you weren’t looking at him to his relief, he saw the small squirrel perched on a branch that seemed to have your attention. He felt himself relax as he noticed this before trying to silently move further to the other side of the clearing.
· To his surprise the squirrel hadn’t run away, he must’ve smelt the food in your hand as he stood hesitantly sniffing the air. “You hungry?” you asked him rhetorically before holding out a small piece of crust for the squirrel and placing it on the branch near him. Jason watched and couldn’t help but melt at your kindness, he heard the familiar voice in his head but this time the voice was calm, telling him you needed protection, you needed him. But how was he supposed to approach you. A few minutes passed and you turned back to your seat, walking over you noticed something had now been placed where you once sat. You picked up the small stone, noticing it was shaped like a star. You looked around for someone before looking back at the stone, a small smile on your face. It warmed Jason’s heart as he prepared himself to find you more gifts.
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Lester Sinclair:
· Lester found himself almost zoning out as he drove down the all too familiar road, the predictability of the same turns and sights that he saw every day seeming to get on his nerves today. Until he noticed a car on the side of the road, he hated his part in this, he tried to just shut himself off from it and think of whoever the poor bastard was that wandered their way as just a stranger, a nobody with no identity. It helped that they were usually rude to him, at least that way he felt less remorse for them. He couldn’t see the person that was hidden under the hood, probably uselessly trying to figure out what was wrong with their car.
· “Looks like you could use a hand.” He didn’t expect the slight squeal from whoever was behind the hood before you walked out, “oh gosh you gave me a fright,” you giggled. Lester was trying to pick his jaw up off the floor and string a sentence together, you definitely weren’t the first young lady to come through these parts but he sure thought you were the prettiest. “Uh, sorry ma’am.” He gulped before wracking his brain for words, “I saw you stuck here and thought you could use a hand.” You sighed before closing the hood, “Unless you happen to have a fanbelt on you, I don’t think so,” He felt the slight dread creep up as he remembered the scenario, he hesitated before spilling his usual script about taking you to see Bo. Of course, you agreed, having no other option and climbing into his truck.
· Not long into the drive you spoke, “I’m Y/N by the way,” he nodded before realising you were waiting for a response, “Oh, I’m Lester,” he responded. “Lester,” you repeated with a smile, he couldn’t help the feeling in his stomach when you repeated his name. “Well thank you very much Lester, I definitely owe you one for driving me all this way.” The more you spoke the worse he was starting to feel, you seemed kind, you were nice to him which was a welcome change, you laughed along with him instead of at him, you didn’t deserve the fate that you were walking into. As you neared Ambrose he realised he couldn’t let you die, he didn’t know how yet but he would do everything he could to keep Bo from hurting you. He knew life was going to be anything but predictable with you around
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Stu Macher:
· Stu groans when the bell rings, his least favourite subject and it was the first lesson of the day. “You coming Stu?” He looks at Randy as he seems to think it over, “Nah, we’ve got Evans, I don’t need another detention from that douche.” Randy just rolls his eyes as Stu starts walking in the opposite direction, he hears Randy grumble some smart-ass comment to himself as he walks away.
· Stu was about to turn towards the entrance when he heard you curse to yourself, he glanced at you before turning the corner. “Woah,” he stopped in his tracks before backing up back into the hallway and looking you over again. You must be new, he definitely would’ve remembered you if he had seen you before. You're too engrossed in the paper in your hands to notice someone coming up to you and leaning against the lockers. He puts on his cheesiest grin before getting your attention “Hey there,” you almost jump out of your skin as you drop your books.
· “Oh man I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Stu apologises as he crouches down and begins to pick up your things, you join him in picking up your books, “No don’t be, I should’ve been paying more attention,” you give him a soft smile before standing back up as he passes you some of your belongings, “You must be new, haven’t seen you around here,” you just nod before continuing, “actually, i’m having some trouble finding my class,” he looks over the schedule you had been engrossed in. “Oh that’s actually where I’m headed, I can take you if you’d like,” he couldn’t help but smile at the way you beamed up at him as you agreed.
· The walk was filled with Stu making you laugh, as you neared the class he seemed to slow down and began talking to you again. “You know, I’d be happy to show you to your other classes if you need help finding them after this?” you agreed and he walked into the class with you. A big smile on his face even after being reprimanded by your teacher. “I thought you weren’t coming,” Randy whispers to him, “Yeah something changed my mind,” he replied, not taking his eyes off you. Maybe this class was worth showing up to.
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Vincent Sinclair:
· Vincent had been in the museum, positioning his newest artwork. He stared at it with a slight tilt of his head, questioning every stroke, every pose and every colour. He couldn’t help it, he knew he was good at what he did but insecurity still nagged at every decision he made. He was in his own world when the creak of the front door broke him out of his stupor. Bo had told him a small group of victims would be heading down to the museum while he worked on ‘finding’ a fan belt for them. Vincent was quick to move to his usual hiding spots to watch them.
· Vincent hated how loud this group was, joking and making fun of his art. “You have to be pretty sick to make any of this.” One of the guys spoke up, Vincent immediately started thinking of how he would hurt this man. It wasn’t until a softer voice spoke up that he noticed the girl trailing at the back of the group, “Come on guys, don’t be so rude. Someone must have put a lot of effort into these.” It was then that Vincent could finally make out your form, you seemed quiet even when speaking up for him, defending his work. Vincent wished he could get a better look at you. The man scoffed, “Okay art freak.” Vincent saw the way you practically flinched at the insult before turning away from the group to go and look at some other pieces.
· Vincent felt angry, the man would definitely suffer. He made his way closer to where you were, staying hidden as he watched you from afar. He could tell the insult had hurt you and this only made him angrier. You seemed to pause as you squinted closer to the art work on the wall, brushing some dust off the framing. “Vincent,” you read the signature to yourself with a small smile on your face, Vincent stilled when he heard you. He wasn’t sure what it was but something about hearing you say his name struck a chord in him. He was more than intrigued by you, he felt drawn to you in a way he had never felt before. He wasn’t sure what this meant but whatever it was he knew Bo wouldn’t like it.
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slut4thebroken · 1 month ago
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Reminisce
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader
Summary | Your boyfriend of almost nine months finally reveals something to you.
Warnings | Consensual to NON CON, smut, forced breeding, baby trapping, scars, praise, forced orgasm, crying, blackmail?, past rape, lots of talk about rape, like a lot.
Words | 1.4 k
Notes | Pretend I posted this a week before Halloween like it says in the fic lol.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 19: forced orgasm
Also idk this gif just reminded me of this part “he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in.”
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“Good girl… Take my fucking cock.” He gruffed, wrapping a hand around your neck, fucking you even harder. You cried out and clung to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. He was leaning over your body with your legs on his shoulders basically pushed flat against your chest, unable to do anything other than take it. 
“Jackson..” You whined. Each hard thrust was punching little breaths and grunts out of you and he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in. 
“God— This reminds me so much of our first date.” He groaned, confusing you. Your first date was at a restaurant and he only kissed you after walking you to your door… You didn’t know what he was talking about and his cock ramming into you was making it really hard to think about it. He chuckled quietly when he saw your furrowed brows. 
“You don’t remember? It was right here in this bed, you were dressed up as a cute little fairy for Halloween and I was wearing a mask…” He trailed off, waiting for you to finally figure it out. Your stomach dropped as you recalled what was probably the worst night of your entire life. “You looked so pretty crying and begging for me like that, I knew I had to make you mine.” He said with a small smile, sounding almost endeared. 
You stared up at him in shock and horror as the small scar below your collarbone started aching at the memory. There’s no way that your boyfriend of almost nine months was the one who broke into your apartment and raped you last Halloween. 
“W-what?” You said through a breath, voice barely audible. His smirk widened as he took in the terror on your face. 
“I was thinking of waiting until Halloween, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He chuckled. “Plus it’s only a week away, and I figured you might shut down on the actual day.” 
All you could do was stare at him, a huge wave of emotions crashing down on you. When the angle of his thrusts shifted a little and he hit that one spot inside of you, you suddenly remembered that he was still fucking you and you started pushing him away. 
“Get the fuck off of me.” Any malice in your tone was completely overshadowed by fear. In response, he just grinned and squeezed your neck even harder until you gasped for air. 
“You were so tight that day… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for almost a year.” He groaned, then his eyes flitted down to your chest. “And that scar… Every time I see it I remember how pretty you looked, crying and begging under me as you took my cock like a good little girl— just like you’re doing now.” 
“Get off!” You yelled, the tears in your eyes beginning to fall as you thrashed under him. He shushed you and just grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head with one hand while the other moved to trace over the scar. 
“You know… The first time you got all choked up when I asked about it, I had to go to the bathroom and jerk off.” He chuckled quietly, looking between your face and the scar with an almost fond expression.
“Stop!” You screamed, becoming hysterical. “Jackson, please.” When you broke out into a sob, he cursed under his breath and moaned loudly, his thrusts becoming more frantic. 
“God- you were crying just like this…” He groaned, dragging his gaze all over your tear streaked face. “Only last time you weren’t about to come on my cock.” He said smugly. 
You shook your head almost violently, but you could feel your orgasm still approaching, despite what you just learned. 
“And, between you and me… based on how hysterical you were last year, I was worried you wouldn’t be interested in a relationship at all— let alone sex…” He said teasingly, but his voice was becoming breathless as he neared his own release. “But you surprised me.” He chuckled quietly. You could barely focus on his words with how hard you were crying, feeling completely frozen underneath him. “You were so desperate for it too. I guess that’s normal though… Something about reclaiming control over your body and what not.”
“Jackson, please stop.” You sobbed brokenly, but he wasn’t deterred at all.
“Stop? But you were just moaning like a little whore for me two minutes ago.” He said coyly. 
“I hate you!” You suddenly screamed, making him laugh again. 
“No. You hate yourself because you’re about to cream all over your rapist’s cock.” The hand not holding your wrists down moved to rub your clit and your crying intensified. 
“Stop!” You shrieked, thrashing under him uselessly. 
“Beg harder, baby… I’m close.” He moaned as his thrusts sped up. The smirk on his face that used to make you blush, made you sick to your stomach this time. 
You were mumbling incoherent protests and pleas and he let his head drop down as he moaned loudly. His fingers never faltered on your clit and you could feel your unwanted orgasm rapidly approaching. 
“No… No— please.” You sobbed weakly, making him look at you again. 
“Do it, slut. Come on my fucking cock while I rape you again.”
You were crying almost violently now, tears streaming down your cheeks as you practically started hyperventilating. “Please..” You whimpered, squirming under him weakly. The coil of arousal in your belly wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending you over the edge. “No,” you sobbed and Jackson groaned as your pussy fluttered around his cock. 
“Oh, good girl…” He cooed, making you cry harder. “That's it… Cream all over my dick, baby.” His usually smug tone that used to fill your stomach with butterflies, now just made you nauseous. 
“Stop! Please stop, Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, unable to hold back your moans and whimpers as his fingers continued rubbing firm circles on your clit. 
His lips parted in a silent moan and his eyes closed as his head fell forward, landing on your chest. With one final grunt, he bottomed out, his cockhead pressing against your cervix uncomfortably. You whined through quiet sobs, all while Jackson moaned… savoring every last bit of your suffering.
“Fuck..” He said through a breathy laugh once his orgasm finally faded. He leaned up, taking in the sight of your glossy eyes and quivering lip, then grabbed your cheeks to hold you still, letting him kiss you. No matter how hard you tried to turn away, he was stronger. He only released you once he was completely satisfied. “Mm… good girl.” He murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You were completely frozen under him, only able to let out hiccuping sobs. 
“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, his voice overly sweet. “But you’re not gonna leave me.” You stared at him, trying to keep a brave face, but you knew he could see your fear. “Raped twice? You’re damaged goods, sweetheart. No respectable man is gonna want you now.” You let out a choked sob and closed your eyes, hearing him coo again. 
“Plus…” when his voice turned a little serious, your blood ran cold in anticipation, “you’re gonna need me to stick around for our kid.” 
Your lips parted and you stared at him with both confusion and fear as you trembled. “What?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 
“Lucky me, finding a girl who’s selfish enough to make sex feel less good— all because of the ‘hormones’ and side effects of birth control.” He sneered, his voice cold but with a cruel, almost playful lilt. Then he casually added, “You should be pregnant by now. I’ve been poking holes in all the condoms for almost two weeks.”
“Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, not even knowing how to react. 
“I know, honey, but I’ll take good care of you.” He pet your hair gently, then wiped away the tears on your face. “Your boss should be getting something in the mail soon. After he fires you, you’ll finally be able to live up to your full potential. You can move in with me and only have to worry about taking care of the house and our kids, and servicing my cock. Doesn’t that sound nice?” All you could do was cry and shake your head. 
“You’re gonna love it.” He smiled, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “I promise.”
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satoruxx · 1 year ago
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SWEET SNACKS.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader | 2.3k words
✧ SUMMARY: tooth rotting fluff, meet cute, battles with inanimate objects, reader's got exams bc i have exams, satoru's whipped af (as usual), sorry i love writing him as a simp, reader is also whipped bc this is gojo satoru, bonding over snacks !!
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: if you saw me tryna post this yesterday no you didn’t. this was supposed to be a quick drabble oops. but it's finals week so i'm offering this piece of fluff to maintain sanity and gush over the meet cute i will never have. if y’all are also dealing with finals, i'm wishing you the best !!
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satoru strolls down the bustling streets with a quiet hum, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets to keep them away from the bite of the cold breeze. his boots crunch against the thin layer of melting ice that has formed overnight, now warming under the cold afternoon sun that coyly hides behind gray clouds.
honestly, he wasn't the biggest fan of weather like this, and he wouldn't have stepped out on any other day. but one meeting with the higher ups had his mood souring, and shoko had suggested he take a walk, maybe grab something to eat.
he knew better than to argue with her, especially since she could somehow read him better than most people could—scary.
so here he was, trudging down the streets of tokyo with his hat pulled over his ears, cheeks pink from the frosty air as it dances across his skin. despite the weather, satoru thinks there's something oddly peaceful about the city, the quiet chatter and sounds of boots scuffing against pavement as he turns a corner to head to the nearby vending machines he's frequented so many times.
the peace is broken by an annoyed grunt, and satoru looks up.
"are you serious?" another irritated groan. "of all the days…"
he takes in the scene with interest.
even with all the anger that he's not quite understanding, he thinks you're so undeniably pretty—puffy jacket hugging your body and the warm scarf resting around your neck. your brows are furrowed, exasperation tugging your features into expressions that shouldn't look so endearing.
you groan again, slamming your curled fist against the glass of the vending machine—frustration ticks at your brow.
and why wouldn't it?
nothing was going your way today. it had already started off badly, the atmosphere filled with gloom that made it impossible to want to leave bed. but you had to force yourself to miserably extract your body from the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows that urged you back with a siren's call—a promise of comfort that looked all too enticing.
and then, when you finally did manage to drag yourself to the library to sit down and study, nothing was sticking. you read through paragraphs over and over until your head was spinning, dizzy with information that wouldn't absorb, and that fact is nothing if not disheartening. the impending quickness with which your final exams were approaching made you feel even sicker, so you decided to take a twenty minute break to grab a drink from the nearby vending machines.
but of course, even that couldn't just work out.
satoru watches you stand in front of the machine with a glare, before you're shoving your weight against it, huffing as it remains in place and hoping that at least one of your efforts will prove to be fruitful. he's talking before he can help himself.
"hey, you need some help?"
you turn to face the owner of the voice, finding cerulean eyes behind black shades that so directly contrast the white of his snowy hair. he's tall—abnormally so as he peers down at you with curiosity and a bit of mirth.
you think you've never seen a man so handsome in your life.
then you remember he's asked you a question, and you attempt to swallow down the unnecessary nerves that have taken root in the pit of your stomach. "oh, my uh��my drink got stuck," you reply somewhat lamely, cheeks heating up under his gaze as you think about how utterly ridiculous you must've looked to passersby.
satoru's eyes travel from your face to the machine, noticing the way your drink of choice is stuck in a frozen free fall against the glass and the rack. he sighs in exasperation. "tried hitting it?" he asks, walking closer to stand next to you and take a closer look, even though he knows the answer already.
you're not sure what it is, but this man exudes a certain energy—confidence that leaks through his very skin. it makes you feel like you have no right to be standing this close to him, but all he does is smile at you patiently, waiting for an answer.
so you nod, brows ticking again as the dull throbbing in your fist reminds you of how you had lost the battle with the greedy machine. "yeah, i've been hitting it for the last ten minutes. didn't budge," you sigh, checking your phone to see that there are only a little over five minutes remaining for your quick break. "what a waste of time and money."
satoru watches you shrug helplessly, smiling up at him. "oh well—"
he takes two long strides until he stands right in front of the machine, grips the edges, and shakes it hard.
satoru can feel you gape at him, at the unfiltered display of strength, and the unbothered expression on his face that tells you it didn't faze him. you hadn't been able to move the machine even an inch.
his powerful movements earn you a tell tale thunk, and your heart leaps in excitement as he bends down to push his hand through the slot and pull out your drink. he returns to his full height, an easy smile on his face as he turns around and hands it to you.
"thank you." your voice comes out breathless, a weird kind of excitement thrumming through your veins because it feels like you aren't supposed to know this man.
satoru's smile stretches further when your fingers graze his, taking the drink and popping it open eagerly. he watches you take a sip, oddly pleased with himself at the sheer joy on your face. he doesn't quite understand why this drink looks like it's made your day, but he doesn't ask because you look so sweet drinking it.
"how did you do that anyway?" you ask after you drink a little, curiosity so obvious in your tone. "i tried so hard to move it and it didn't budge at all."
satoru smothers a smile, fighting back the urge to say something stupid. instead he grins, cheeks warming a little under your eager stare. "guess i'm just strong."
you make a face, raising a brow with a playfully disbelieving expression as you cross your arms—to which satoru just laughs. "what's your name?" he asks.
you purse your lips, hiding a smile as you tuck your nose behind your scarf. you give him your name, almost shyly, and satoru tests it on his tongue. he decides he likes the flow, cocking his head as he replies with his own.
"satoru."
for once, the pressure of his last name doesn't permeate the air, and he's all too grateful for it. he turns around to approach the machine again, and he can feel your somewhat confused gaze on his back.
you watch as he stands there for a good minute, his back to you as he ponders the choices in the vending machine like they'll lead to life or death. then he shoves in a bill and clicks a few buttons, and within a couple of seconds, you hear the thud of two things falling.
he remains facing away from you for a few more seconds and then turns around, and you see that he's bought a chocolate bar and the same drink that you have in your hands. you raise a brow.
"well you did almost just lose your life trying to fight a vending machine for it," he says, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly. "figured it'd be good to try."
you sputter over your words, embarrassment crawling up your neck, but satoru laughs good-naturedly. his eyes shine with mirth as his shoulders relax. "i'm kidding." he stresses, smiling into the collar of his jacket. "but it does look good so…"
he opens the drink and takes a sip, eyes squeezing shut dramatically as he hums at the sweet flavors washing over his tongue. you suddenly feel like getting revenge for his unfiltered teasing.
"well?" you hum cheekily, taking a sip of your own and raising a playful brow. "taste good?"
satoru laughs—a full, pristine sound that makes him throw his head back. "yeah," he agrees easily, feeling oddly fond of the way your voice curls around your words. "it's sweet, i like it. you've got great taste."
somehow the words of this man you've met not five minutes ago cause the muscles of your heart to trip over themselves. you watch him peel open the candy bar, a brand that's unfamiliar to you.
"what'd you get?" you ask, unsure of where the confidence to speak up is coming from. a man like satoru—so unflinchingly ethereal—would normally have your lips zipping and throat muted.
he holds up the bar with a grin. "my favorite."
there's a pause, followed by your sheepish smile, and satoru gapes at you, cerulean widening so clearly behind a backdrop of white. he takes in your innocently confused expression and his ribcage shakes with thuds. "what, you've never tried it?!"
before you can even shake your head no, he's breaking off a piece and handing it to you.
"no, oh my goodness, it's yours—"
"take it." he pushes his hand closer to you, eyes staring imploringly, and you sigh, reaching up to take the piece from between his fingers. a graze of skin—he's warm.
"thank you." you slip the piece past your lips, not at all surprised by its sweetness and yet a little taken aback by its underlying comfort—a rush of warmth.
"good." you're nodding, smiling between chews as satoru's stomach flips. "really good."
he chuckles, all too triumphant for something so menial. "told ya."
you laugh, a quiet subdued sound that satoru wishes he could hear more of. "thanks for getting my drink out," you say. "i really needed it today."
"oh yeah?" he finds himself asking. "how come?"
you sigh, smile dropping as a bit of fatigue makes itself comfortable on your face. "ah well, i've got final exams this week. i've been studying like crazy. nothing's really sticking, and the closer i get to the exams, the more annoyed and stressed i get."
satoru hums, not envying you for a minute.
"so it kinda felt like a kick in the butt from the universe when the drink decided to not just…"
he laughs again, taking another piece of chocolate and chewing on it soundlessly. "i gotcha."
you grin, curling your fingers around each other to diffuse some warmth back into them. "yeah."
there's a silence that follows—not uncomfortable, not unwelcome. you take quiet sips of your drink, and satoru breaks off little pieces of the chocolate bar to chew on. his eyes linger on you, watching the way your lips curl around the bottle, the way your fingers rub against each other, the way the cold has settled into your nose and cheeks and made a home amongst your skin.
when you look up at him, he looks away, throat oddly parched. his fingers flex.
"here, the rest is for you," he says, pushing the half finished candy bar into your hands.
you shake your head immediately. "no way! you paid for it! besides isn't this your favorite snack?"
satoru shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets with a grin that looks too happy. "you liked it, didn't you?"
you nod, slowly, like you're confused at what he's getting at. "well then, enjoy the rest of it. i buy them all the time—i don't mind sharing this one."
you can't help the soft smile that graces your lips, looking up at him with an odd sense of gratitude and surprise—touched that someone could be so casually kind.
"then thank you," you laugh quietly, eyes fluttering against the gust of cool wind that tickles your skin. "i'll enjoy it."
satoru grins, uncharacteristically pleased—he won't ever admit it, but he's glad shoko told him to take a walk. he'll have to thank her when he gets back.
he clears his throat, offering you a small wave as he turns on his heel to head back to the school. "well then, see you around. good luck with your studies, yeah?"
you smile with a gentle nod, oddly rejuvenated after seeing bright blue eyes and snowy hair. "thank you."
and then he's disappeared into the crowds. you laugh to yourself quietly, looking down at your drink and the half-eaten candy bar nestled between your fingers. a part of you feels strangely forlorn, wishing that you had the guts or confidence to talk to him a little longer—ask a little more.
but you've never been good at that, so even just this small happiness you'll take in stride. you grin to yourself, shoving the drink into your bag and slinging it over your shoulders.
you begin walking back to the library, fingers breaking off pieces of the chocolate and savoring the sweetness on your tongue. somehow you didn't expect a man with such an imposing presence to enjoy simple sweet things like this, but that just makes you all the more fond of him.
by the time you've reached the entrance of the library, you're shoving the last piece of chocolate into your mouth, sighing as the doors of reality swing open once more. the meager slice of giddiness that enveloped your very being dissolves, and all the reminders of what's left to do come back to suffocate you.
you bite back a groan, about to throw the empty wrapper in the trash when something catches your eye. you double-take, peering down at it with wide eyes and rapidly heating skin. there are a set of numbers scrawled there, along with a haphazardly written message:
in case you need someone to fight another vending machine for you -satoru <3
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rosemariiaa · 1 month ago
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𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 01, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙧.
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“I wish I was a normal girl, oh, my How do I be,
how do I be your baby?”
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˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing: Paige x Azzi
˖˙ ᰋ ── synopsis: tell the truth?
˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie note: ahh first chapter! i’m really excited to see how this series goes..(i hope you guys are too). i do wanna say I will not be dropping chapters back to back just because ik each chapter will be long enough and also i have other things to do. but you never know what i have up my sleeve sooo just wait! i actually did cry a lot writing this so yw. happy reading lovelies 💌
˖˙ ᰋ ── themes: hurt/comfort, mentions of depression, some fluff
enjoy!!!
May, 2014. Virginia MN
Azzis days felt like she was wading through an invisible fog, where each step felt heavier than the last. She moved through school in a daze, surrounded by classmates and noise but feeling distanced from it all, as if she were behind a glass wall. Teachers spoke, friends laughed, yet nothing seemed to reach her, and nothing seemed worth responding to.
She leaned against her bedroom wall, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the thoughts came like waves, too heavy to escape but too constant to ignore. At home, the silence only deepened. Her puppy was her only real source of comfort, a small warmth that reminded her she wasn’t completely alone.
Yet, even with him there, the sadness was like a relentless wave, threatening to pull her under. As she lay in bed, Azzi’s mind circled around her own thoughts, dark and tangled, the weight pressing down on her chest. Sometimes, she felt the urge to cry, but the tears would stall. Other times, they would pour out uncontrollably, as if her body knew it needed to release the heaviness she carried.
Azzi remembered words that lingered in her mind like a mantra:
“Cry. Cry for an hour, cry for a day, cry for a week. Cry until you can’t cry anymore, until the tears stop coming, until you feel better, until you heal.
Crying is your body’s way of releasing sadness; let it out and then let it go.”
But the letting go part felt impossible.
She knew she was lucky—talented, even—but that didn’t stop the weight pressing down on her, making everything she did feel more like a chore than a choice.
Sometimes it felt like she was just going through the motions: school, basketball practice, homework, repeat. But there was a deeper loneliness, one that made her question what any of it even meant. Every now and then, she’d think, Would anyone even notice if I disappeared for a day? A week? That quiet thought haunted her, lingering in the back of her mind as she navigated her days, waiting for someone to prove it wrong. But no one ever did.
Grabbing her laptop, she opened up her anonymous Blogspot account. Writing had become her escape, a safe place to let her thoughts spill out without anyone knowing they were hers. She’d been posting as @unicornpuppy35 for a while now, hoping someone out there might understand her, even if they never knew her name. A new notification popped up.
Azzi blinked at the screen, surprised to see a comment on her latest post. It was from someone called @boogers_p.
“hey, I saw your post about feeling stuck. I get that. I feel like that a lot, too.”
For a moment, she almost ignored it. Just another user on the internet, right? But something about the way they’d phrased it struck a chord. She found herself typing back before she even knew what she wanted to say.
unicornpuppy35: Oh yeah? What’s got you feeling stuck?
The reply came quickly.
boogers_p: lol, how much time u got? but mostly… everything’s just movin’, and i’m still here. it’s like ur doing all this stuff, but half the time u can’t even tell if u actually care abt it.
Azzi frowned, feeling that weird sense of familiarity in the words.
unicornpuppy35: Exactly, like a constant loop. But what’s the point, right?
boogers_p: fr! it’s like… i’m goin’ thru the motions but who even knows why.
A smile tugged at her lips. Whoever this was, they got it. They actually understood what she was feeling. And it was strange, but it made her feel just a little less alone.
unicornpuppy35: So, what’s your thing? Like, if you had to pick.
boogers_p: lol basketball. but sometimes i’m like… is this all there is?
Azzi blinked. Out of all the things they could have in common, it was basketball. Funny, or maybe just ironic.
unicornpuppy35: Wait, seriously? Are we living the same life or what?
boogers_p: guess that means we’re stuck in the same boat, huh?
Azzi let herself relax into the conversation, forgetting for a moment that she was talking to a stranger. She leaned back, fingers tapping against the keyboard.
unicornpuppy35: So, if we’re both stuck… what’s the plan? How do we get out?
boogers_p: girl, if i knew, we’d be out already, trust. maybe we keep chattin n figure it out.
Azzi laughed softly, a weight lifting from her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there.
unicornpuppy35: Deal. Looks like I just made a new friend.
There was a pause, then @boogers_p’s next message popped up.
boogers_p: btw, ‘unicornpuppy35’? gotta ask: what’s the story there?
Azzi rolled her eyes, smirking as she typed back.
unicornpuppy35: What? You don’t like it?
boogers_p: nah it’s cool, just funny. u like unicorns that much?
unicornpuppy35: Who doesn’t like unicorns? And I have a puppy, so it made sense at the time.
boogers_p: lol alright then, unicorn girl.
unicornpuppy35: “Boogers” is somehow less embarrassing to you?
The reply was fast.
boogers_p: hey! don’t come for my name. so do u even keep up w ball like that?
Azzi laughed, a real laugh, and typed, I mean, I love the game, especially the wcbb, but I barely keep up with men’s college basketball.
boogers_p: WHAT i can’t believe that …u at least know who Kyrie is right??
Azzi smiled, rolling her eyes as she typed, I know who he is, I just don’t watch him like that. I’m more into Breanna Stewart.
boogers_p: ohh okay stewie’s dope. but trust, kyrie’s handles r insane. hold up lemme get u the link.
Azzi barely clicked on the link before skimming, smiling at Paige’s excitement.
As Azzi sat back, scrolling through this user’s texts, a small part of her was overwhelmed by everything, like a weight on her chest she couldn’t quite shake off. It felt strange how this stranger’s blunt and funny messages could draw her out of her own head—even if just for a bit. She was used to feeling invisible, yes, her struggles buried under her quiet exterior, but this strangers presence, even from behind a screen, felt real.
A few seconds ticked by as she sank into her thoughts, that weight of loneliness and uncertainty creeping in again. She knew people saw her as the “soft one,” but beneath that, her emotions felt raw, and she wondered if anyone truly understood.
Suddenly, her phone screen lit up with rapid notifications.
boogers_p: hellooooooo? did u leave?
boogers_p: r u asleep already or smth??
Azzi’s lips turned up in a small smile. She quickly replied.
unicornpuppy35: “Geez, relax. I’m still here.”
boogers_p: “finally! thought I lost ya for a sec. kinda rude to just ghost me like that, you know?”
Azzi smirked, typing back slowly.
unicornpuppy35: “Yeah, yeah. Guess I was just thinking.”
boogers_p: “Ooooh, deep thoughts? Or like… deep-deep thoughts?”
Azzi hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but she quickly brushed it off.
unicornpuppy35: “nope, just regular deep, I guess.”
boogers_p: “good, I thought you might’ve been drafting your escape from my endless questions.”
unicornpuppy35: “ y’know you’re kind of funny , i’ll give you that. lol”
boogers_p: “ik ik. btw, where do you go to school? And don’t tell me it’s some fancy private place or whatever.”
unicornpuppy35: “Haha, what are you, a stalker? why do you wanna know?”
boogers_p: “what? nah, just curious! alright, lemme guess… you seem like a midwest kid. Iowa?”
unicornpuppy35: “nope, not even close. Try again, Sherlock.”
boogers_p: “alright, alright… new jersey?”
Azzi laughed, shaking her head at her screen.
unicornpuppy35: “nope. You’re pretty bad at this, you know.”
boogers_p: “whatever, I’m warming up! Um… cali? bet you’re like, all into the beach.”
unicornpuppy35: “keep guessing P! maybe you’ll get it right before I graduate.”
boogers_p: “damn, you’re killin’ me here. fine, one more—Texas?”
unicornpuppy35: “Guess you’re gonna have to stay curious, stalker.”
“P” sent a string of laughing emojis, clearly frustrated but amused.
boogers_p: “oh, okay, I see how it is. mysterious and all that. fine, keep your secrets.”
Azzi smiled, finding herself genuinely entertained by Paige’s playful determination to figure her out. It was nice, having someone care enough to ask.
Azzi shook her head, laughing at the sight of P typing “helloooooo?” over and over.
unicornpuppy35: Still here! Just still laughing at your terrible guesses.
boogers_p: ohhh shut up 😆 one day you’ll tell me!
As they continued chatting, Azzi couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like maybe she wasn’t quite so alone after all.
————-
I glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen. Midnight. Crap. How had it gotten so late?
unicornpuppy35: alright, P, it’s late. I should get some sleep—school tomorrow and all 😊
I typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send. I didn’t want the conversation to end, not when it felt so… easy.
The reply came almost instantly.
boogers_p: lame but yeah, same here. don’t oversleep, though, or I’ll roast you about it next time
I smiled softly, my fingers moving across the keyboard.
unicornpuppy35: gnn P
boogers_p: night unicorn, catch you later.
I closed my laptop, leaning back against my pillow with a soft sigh. My room was quiet except for the gentle snuffling of my puppy curled up at the end of the bed. I hated how much I didn’t want to stop talking to her—or whoever she was—but I could already hear my mom’s voice in my head if I overslept tomorrow.
Still, the flicker of warmth in my chest wouldn’t go away. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel so alone.
————-
The warm weight of my puppy’s paws jolted me awake, followed by his enthusiastic tongue licking my cheek. I groaned, shoving him away gently before squinting at my phone.
“Crap.” 7:40. At least practice was after school today, but I still had school before then.
“Azzi!” Mom’s voice carried from the kitchen, sharp and frustrated. “Do you even know what time it is? You’re going to be late—again!”
“I know, Mom!” I called back, stumbling out of bed and tossing clothes around my room.
When I finally trudged downstairs, backpack slung over one shoulder, she was waiting, arms crossed. “Do you? Because this is becoming a habit. You need to start taking this seriously, Azzi. Coaches notice stuff like this.”
I rolled my eyes, grabbing a grabbing a piece of nutella toast from the plate on the counter. “It’s not like I’m failing or anything.”
“That’s not the point!” Her voice rose a notch, and I flinched. “You’re juggling basketball, school, and everything else. If you can’t manage your mornings, how are you supposed to handle the rest?”
“I’ve got it under control.” The words came out sharper than I intended, and guilt immediately twisted in my stomach.
She softened slightly but shook her head. “You have so much potential, Azzi. I just don’t want you to waste it. That’s all.”
I sighed, hugging the puppy briefly before heading out the door. “I won’t.”
Her voice followed me, softer now. “Make sure you don’t.”
As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit me, making me shiver slightly. My puppy barked once from the window, his tail wagging furiously. I couldn’t help but smile, even as Mom’s words echoed in my head.
She wasn’t wrong, but sometimes it felt like the pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations, especially hers was just all so suffocating. I jogged toward the bus stop, earbuds in, my mind already racing through the day ahead: school, practice, and maybe—if I had time—another chat with P.
The bus ride wasn’t much better than waking up. Just the usual hum of the engine and kids mumbling into their phones. I leaned my head against the window, the cold glass biting at my cheek, and zoned out. School wasn’t exactly a place I looked forward to.
By the time I walked into first period, I was already tuning out the chatter around me. The teacher called for us to break into groups, and I found myself sitting with three classmates who barely glanced my way.
“We should start with the data chart,” I said, glancing at the worksheet.
“Yeah, yeah,” one of them mumbled, already scribbling something down.
Another classmate leaned over to add something, completely ignoring what I’d just said. My lips pressed into a thin line. This wasn’t new. It was like my words existed in a bubble, bouncing off everyone and disappearing into thin air. I tried again.
“If we divide the work, we’ll finish faster—”
“Wait, no, let’s do this first,” someone interrupted, their voice cutting over mine.
I stopped mid-sentence, letting my pen drop to the table. They didn’t even notice. Just kept talking like I wasn’t there.
I didn’t bother saying anything else for the rest of the class. It wasn’t worth it.
By lunch, I was drained. I slid into a chair at the edge of the cafeteria, next to a group of friends who were already knee-deep in some conversation.
“Azzi, did you see that ridiculous shot Ty took in practice yesterday?” one of them asked, barely waiting for my answer before launching into their own commentary.
I nodded, offering a small laugh. It wasn’t worth jumping in. Every time I tried to add something to a conversation, it either got talked over or shifted in another direction.
But it didn’t stop me from noticing.
As I picked at my food, my thoughts drifted back to last night’s chat with P. They actually listened. Responded. It felt… different. Maybe that’s why it was still on my mind.
————-
By the time I got to practice, my head was already in a fog. It felt like no matter where I went, no one really saw me. At school, at home—was it too much to ask for someone to actually listen?
“Azzi, let’s go! You’re up!” Coach’s voice snapped me back. I jogged to the front of the line, grabbing a ball. Simple drill. Layups. Easy.
Except I missed.
“Come on, Azzi!” one of the captains called, exasperation clear in her voice. My jaw tightened.
I grabbed the rebound and tried again, but my footwork was off. The ball clanged off the rim.
“Focus, Azzi!” Coach barked.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, and got back in line. When my turn came again, I nailed the layup, but the damage was already done.
As we transitioned to scrimmage, it only got worse. I called for the ball—wide open on the wing—but my teammate didn’t even look my way. I sprinted to the other side of the court, yelling louder this time. Nothing.
“Azzi, move the ball!” someone shouted when I finally had possession, cutting me off before I could even make a decision.
It was like being invisible. Nothing new though.
By the time practice ended, my legs ached, and my chest felt even heavier than when I’d started. I stayed behind to shoot free throws, trying to shake off the weight.
One ball after another swished through the net, but the sinking feeling didn’t budge.
By the time I finally walked out of the gym, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. My legs felt like lead, and I slung my bag over one shoulder, the strap digging in just enough to annoy me. God.
I spotted our car parked at the far end of the lot, Mom’s silhouette visible through the windshield. She was scrolling on her phone, waiting. I sighed, tugging my hoodie tighter as I trudged toward her.
As I got closer, I caught sight of my brothers in the backseat. Jose was watching something on his tablet, headphones on, and Jon was playing with a Rubik’s cube. Lucky them—they didn’t have to deal with “the talk” I was sure was coming.
The second I opened the door and tossed my bag onto the floor, Mom started in.
“So, your coach called me today,” she said, her tone sharp but controlled.
I froze, mid-seatbelt click. Great.
She said you’ve been distracted. Not focused. Is something going on?”
I stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur past. “I’m fine,” I mumbled.
“Azzi, ‘fine’ isn’t good enough. You’re not putting in the work, and it’s starting to show. You need to get your head in the game. You think colleges are going to be interested in someone who’s half-assing it?”
Her words stung, but I bit my tongue, glancing at Jose and Jon in the backseat. Jon was tapping away on his tablet, and Jose had his headphones in. Good. I didn’t want them listening to this.
“I’m not half-a wording it,” I said quietly.
“Oh, really? Because that’s not what I heard today. Your coach says otherwise.”
I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to argue. I couldn’t let this turn into something bigger, not with my brothers right here.
“Mom, I said I’m fine,” I repeated, more firmly this time.
She sighed, shaking her head. “Azzi, you can’t afford to slack off. You’ve worked too hard for this. Don’t throw it all away now.”
I stared straight ahead, tuning her out as best I could. My chest felt tight, but I refused to let it show. I nodded along, letting her words wash over me without sticking.
When we finally pulled into the driveway, I bolted from the car, mumbling something about needing to shower. The second my bedroom door shut, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow.
For a few minutes, I just lay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me. Then I grabbed my laptop and opened the chat.
unicornpuppy35: “hey, you around?”
The reply came quicker than I expected.
boogers_p: “yup what’s up?”
I hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How much could I even say without sounding like I was whining?
unicornpuppy35: “rough day.”
boogers_p: “wanna talk about it?”
I stared at the screen. Did I?
unicornpuppy35: “not really. just needed a distraction.”
boogers_p: “fair. ok, here’s a distraction: what’s your dream ice cream flavor? like if you could invent anything.”
I blinked at the random question, a laugh escaping before I could stop it.
unicornpuppy35: “that’s… so random.”
boogers_p: “that’s the point. distraction, remember?”
boogers_p: “but… you do know you don’t have to push it down, y’know? sometimes it helps to just let it out. Especially with me.”
My chest tightened again. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to talk—I just wasn’t sure how.
unicornpuppy35: “oh um okay, it’s just been a lot. school sucks, practice was worse, and my mom’s acting like I’m throwing my whole future away. But what’s the point in saying anything? It’s not like it changes.”
I stared at the screen, half-wishing I could take it back. But, I typed again.
unicornpuppy35: “it’s like… everybody talks to me like I’m supposed to change. like they’ve already decided what’s wrong with me and what I need to do to fix it. but how am I supposed to change when I don’t even know who I am yet? it’s like no one cares about that part.”
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.
boogers_p: “damn, unicorn. that’s real. people are so quick to act like they know what’s best for you, but they don’t live your life. you don’t owe them anything.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat as I stared at P’s message.
unicornpuppy35: “exactly. like… they’ve already made up their minds, and nothing I say matters. but I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be yet. And then when I try to figure it out, they’re just like, ‘No, not like that.’ it’s so exhausting.”
boogers_p: “i get it. they want you to follow their script, but maybe their script sucks. you’re allowed to write your own, even if it takes time.”
My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. I feel the tears running down my cheeks and falling onto the keypad.
unicornpuppy35: “sometimes I feel like I’m never gonna figure it out. like I’ll just keep messing up until everyone gives up on me.”
P didn’t reply right away, and for a moment, I worried I’d said too much. I’m trying my best to wipe the tears that are falling, but they just won’t stop coming.
But then their message popped up
boogers_p: “ listen to me. you’re allowed to take up space, to mess up, to figure things out in your own time. screw what everyone else thinks. you’re not a project they get to fix.”
A shaky breath left my chest, and I swiped at my eyes before more of my tears could fall onto the laptop.
unicornpuppy35: “thanks, P. I mean it. you’re the only one who really listens.”
boogers_p: “anytime you’re stuck with me now, remember?”
I didn’t mind that one bit and for the first time all day, I let myself breathe.
————-
March 21, Minneapolis, Minnesota
I stared at the screen, the cursor blinking against the blank message box. Her words replayed in my mind like a song I couldn’t shake off.
“Nobody listens. Nobody sees me.”
I didn’t know what to say back, not really. Azzi didn’t just sound tired—she sounded done. And it scared me more than I wanted to admit.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard.
“Azzi…”
I typed..wanting to send but no.
I couldn’t. Not yet.
————-
taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @sierrale8ne @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @lupinqs @d3arapril @pboogerswbb @imaginespazzi
₊˚ෆ always lmk if u wanna be added to my taglist muah ₊˚ෆ
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forever-rogue · 8 months ago
Note
I saw this one post on Twitter of how this girl’s bf pre-padded her underwear for her when she was in the shower and I thought it would be a cute idea if you wrote something like this for Eddie?
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AN | No, but this is so sweet! Eddie would totally be that boyfriend. 💕
Warnings | Language, Reader has period
Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.6k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You groaned as you flopped onto your bed, tired and hungry, and feeling like your insides were eating themselves. You laid there for a moment before, wondering if you could kick off your pants and just continue lying there. It was a feeble attempt and didn’t get you very far and it just made things even more uncomfortable. 
“Fuck,” with a heavy sigh, you rolled onto your back and stared at your ceiling, breathing in and out slowly in order to attempt to quell your internal turmoil, “fuck.”
Before you could get up, your phone buzzed next to you. When you grabbed it and saw that there was a new text from Eddie, you immediately felt better. And then remembered that you were supposed to spend the night at his place tonight. Now you weren’t so sure that you should. Not that you were weirded out by having your period in front of Eddie, or that Eddie would be grossed out by it, you were genuinely feeling terrible…and mildly worried about Eddie witnessing you having your period.
But you really wanted to see Eddie. It had been a few days since you’d seen him, both of you busy with work and other fun adult things, and you’d been missing him a lot. You were going to see him, you decided, he was worth dealing with a little pain. 
You texted him back and let him know that you’d be over soon, but also warned him that your period had started. Just in case you got there and fell asleep within minutes after eating a bar of chocolate. 
After you managed to peel yourself off the bed, you packed your overnight bag and headed to Eddie’s apartment. If there was anything that could make you feel better it was Eddie and motrin. You’d consumed the one and were only a short drive away from the other.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Eddie opened the door for you before you even managed to knock, a pretty smile on his face and his big brown eyes alive and bright. 
“Hey baby,” he took your bag from you before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling in you for a sweet kiss, “missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too,” his sweet words always still managed to make your face warm up. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged tightly onto him, causing him to laugh softly. He set down your bag before hugging you back just as fiercely, before taking your face in his hands and peppering your face in gentle kisses.
“There’s my girl,” he whispered as finally managed to put a proper smile on your face, “I’m sorry you’re suffering. But I’m glad you’re here so I can hopefully make you feel better.”
“Just seeing you has made me feel better,” you promised, “besides, it’s not like you made me get my period.”
“No…but I can help you get rid of it,” it took you a moment to catch onto what he was saying - until you saw the smirk and raised eyebrow on his face, “for a while anyway.”
“I…Eddie,” you playfully shoved him as the two of you laughed, your face warm at the idea of getting pregnant by him, “first of all - you’re the worst. And second of all, let’s get back to that discussion in a few years.”
He didn’t say anything but he managed to make a small sound in the back of the throat, that sounded almost strained. He was immediately struggling not to let his mind wander too far in that direction just yet, “yeah - yeah, c’mon. Tell me how to make it better. Have you eaten? Are you hydrated? Need a nap?”
“Yes…ish to both of those,” you offered him a sheepish expression as you walked into the kitchen to get yourself some water. He trailed after you with an incredulous look on his face. He definitely wouldn’t have been able to handle it as well as you, “I’ve been working and dying, Eddie. I haven’t had time to worry about anything!”
“Well, how about you let me make it better? I’m going to make dinner and you’re going to take a nice, hot shower,” he started to usher you towards the bathroom, “I’ve heard that can help. So hopefully it does. I got that body wash and shampoo and conditioner that you like too. You’re here enough anyway, figured it’d be nice for you to have some stuff here.”
“You did that for me?” you turned around and looked at him with wide eyes as he slowly nodded.  Your heart warmed; you had been spending more and more time at his place and it was nice to have things moving in that direction. You did want to move in with him soon - everytime you imagined your future it was always with Eddie. You sighed softly, “that’s so sweet, Eddie. Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he insisted, “I just want you to be comfortable and feel better.”
“Do you know one thing that would help even more?” you offered him a coy smile which was answered with a soft laugh.
“You want some of my clothes for pajamas?” he asked as you nodded eagerly, “one step ahead of you. I’ve got a fresh towel and clean clothes for you in the towel warmer.”
Before he met you, he’d never have even considered a towel warmer. Hell, he didn’t even know that people actually owned them. It seemed like such a ridiculous luxury, and maybe it was, but he was willing to listen. You’d insisted that he needed one and that they were totally worth it…the next time you were over at his place, he’d bought a towel warmer. 
“You are amazing, Eddie Munson,” you pulled him in for a kiss and let your lips linger against his. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation as he kissed you a few more times, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” his big brown eyes grew soft as he practically turned to putty in your arms, “now go and get comfy and warm and I’ll make dinner.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Eddie had gone in and turned on the shower, turning it to the perfect temper. You’d shaken your head at him, but before he left you to your own devices, he helped you to gently strip off your clothes. It was such a small, intimate thing, but it meant so much to you. Once you were rid of all your clothing, Eddie held your hand as you stepped into the shower.  He gave you a small kiss before heading back to the kitchen to finish dinner. 
When Eddie had said that he’d purchased a few of your things to keep at his place, he wasn’t kidding. Along with the things he used, where all the things you loved and kept at your own apartment were in the shower. He was always doing things like this, things that he thought were so small and insignificant but that meant so much to you. 
You took your sweet time to get clean, relishing the feel of the hot water on your skin before reluctantly stepping out of the shower. Once you stepped out of the shower and opened the towel warmer, you were greeted by the sight of a big, fluffy towel along with a fresh set of Eddie's clothes. They happened to be some of your favorites that you often stole from him. 
But it was the sight on the countertop that caught your eye and piqued your curiosity. It was clean underwear that happened to have a fresh pad stuck to it. You raised an eyebrow but your heart melted at the gesture. Eddie had this planned all along. 
You dried yourself off and slipped on the clean underwear and clothes before slipping out of the bathroom. You heard Eddie in the kitchen, singing softly to himself as he shuffled around. You loved this man. Truly, fully, so much that it made your heart ache. 
He stopped as soon as he heard you, looking up to catch your eye and offer you a small smile. He looked so pretty with his hair piled on top of his in a bun, sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It was ridiculous the effect the simple clothing had on you.
“Hey baby,” he whispered softly, “feeling better?”
“Much,” you confirmed as you went over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “thank you for everything. The underwear…where did you get that idea? I wasn't expecting it, but it was really nice. No one’s ever done anything like that for me.”
“It wasn’t…a big deal,” his cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he tried to play it off, “I, umm, I saw some people mention it on twitter and yeah. It was just an idea. You’re dealing with enough right now, so it just seemed like an easy thing to do.”
“Well, I appreciate it very much,” you promised, gently nudging his hip with yours, “I appreciate you very much, Eddie. Thank you.”
He mumbled something in response as he focused his attention on his pan. He wasn’t one to look for praise and you knew that the attention sometimes made him shy. You made sure he knew just how much you loved and cherished him. 
You grabbed some plates and helped him to finish up dinner. He tried to protest but you ignored him; you wanted to help him. You liked working together, you were a team after all.
When he grabbed plates and piled them with food, you were excited to see that he had made your favorites. He had really gone all out just to make you feel better. 
The two of you took your time eating, before moving to the couch and cuddling up next to each other. You were tucked into Eddie’s side with his arm around you, your favorite place to be, with a big, warm blanket thrown over the two of you. Eddie had let you take your pick of what to watch and you’d settled on a true crime documentary. He never understood why you were able to relax to such things, but he never questioned it. He just enjoyed it along with you. 
You made it about halfway through the first episode of the series before you felt yourself nodding off. You tried to fight it but eventually gave in and let yourself fall asleep. Eddie hadn’t been surprised, but glad you were able to relax. He paused the show and made sure you were as comfortable as possible as he let you sleep for a bit. Before it got too late, he’d wake you up to go to bed. 
Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of your head, making sure you were as comfortable as possible. You were still semi-aware, in that almost asleep but still mildly awake state, and you were almost positive that you heard Eddie singing softly under his breath. It was sweet, warm and rich, and you were pulled into the siren’s call of slumber and fell asleep.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you were gently woken by Eddie. You blinked a few times to clear away the bleariness and found him smiling at you. He gently brushed some of your hair out of your face, brushing his knuckles tenderly against your cheek.
“I think it’s time for bed, huh pretty girl?” he whispered as you nodded meekly. Getting into bed and wrapped up with him sounded like almost heaven. You slowly climbed up and off the couch, stretching slowly to wake up your tired bones and muscles. Eddie follow up suit before wrapped his arms around your waist and slowly padding along with you to his bedroom, “wanna know a secret?”
“Tell me,” you murmured as he pressed a big kiss to your cheek, causing you to laugh softly.
“I always sleep better with you,” he confessed softly, almost unsure if he should have admitted it to you, “I can’t wait till we can sleep together every night.”
That was enough to make your heart flutter with excitement and nerves. Eddie was definitely part of your future, but it still made you feel good to know that you were part of his too. 
“Me too, Eddie,” you promised and then you remembered your current predicament, “oh. Are you sure you want me to sleep in your bed?”
“Umm,” he looked at you, brows creasing in confusion, “yes? Why wouldn’t I?”
“What if I….bleed on your sheets or something?” your face warmed up as you tried not to think about the embarrassment you’d feel if that actually happened, “I don’t want to make it gross.”
“Baby,” so soft and tender that it almost made you cry, “I’m not worried about a little blood. It’s not disgusting or gross at all. If it happens, we’ll wash the sheets and call it a day. The only thing I’m worried about is making sure you’re doing okay.”
“I….yeah,” you looked at him with teary eyes and he smiled fondly at you before wiping away the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “I’m doing alright. Because of you - you’ve made me feel a lot better.”
“And to think you were going to cancel on me,” he tutted softly as he ushered you into the bedroom and started to turn down the bed, “you know you never have to hide anything from me.  I want to hear everything, all the good and all the bad.”
“I know,” you admitted softly, “it seems so silly now.”
“Well you are a member of the silly goose society,” he kissed the tip of your nose as you snorted in amusement, “anything else you need before we get in bed?”
“I just have to use the bathroom and then I’ll be good to go,” you started padding towards the bathroom. Eddie trailed after you, already reaching into the cabinet under the sink to grab a fresh pad for you. You reached for it to replace the one you had just tossed into the trash but Eddie didn’t let you take it, instead sticking it into your underwear for you, “thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he whispered, “it’s not a big deal at all. Need some painkillers or anything?”
“I just need you,” you grinned, washing your hands before letting Eddie pulled back towards the bed.
“You’re in luck,” he slid under the covers, holding them up so you could get in after him, “I’m all yours and I’m ready to cuddle.”
“Sounds perfect,” Eddie immediately pulled you into his arms, tangling his limbs with yours. You relaxed and melted into him, his warm body having a soothing effect on yours, “I love you, Eddie.”
“I love you too, baby,” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a row of kisses to your shoulder, “get some rest. And if you need anything at all, just tell me, okay?”
“I will,” you squeezed his hand, “promise me you’ll always tell me if you need anything too.”
“I promise always,” he said through a yawn that you ended up echoing, “good night, sweetheart.”
“Good night, Eddie.”
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itsthewritergal · 11 months ago
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Just let me go - Bucky Barnes x reader
Okay this one is ANGSTTYYY Also there will be a part two! Posted tomorrow :)
TW: kidnapping, swearing, suicidal thoughts, guns, angst, sadness, suicidal ideation, also I haven't proof read this aha I'm sorry!!
“Sergeant Barnes, there is someone here to see you” One of the agent said as they stepped into the training room, 
“Who?” Bucky replied curtly, being halfway through a session with Nat he didn’t exactly want to be interrupted no matter who it was 
“I don’t know but she looks upset, if I was you I’d be worried” the agent said with a laugh, making a few of the other trainee’s laugh 
“Don’t forget your rank” Bucky said bluntly, 
“Sorry Sargent Barnes” The agent said, 
“You can start sparring, I’ll be back soon and I expect to see some improvements from yesterday” Nat said following Bucky out the room, 
“Who do you think it is?” Nat asked 
“I don’t know” Bucky said 
“What about that girl you went out with the other night?” 
“I don’t think she’d come here” Bucky said with a huff, “she didn’t like me” he said 
“Ooh what about the girl from Tony’s party?” Nat suggested, it sounded as though the idea of Bucky having a girl round was entertaining to her, Bucky narrowed his eyes at Nat, 
“No” He said bluntly, 
“Tensions killing me” Nat said with a dry laugh 
“Come on Nat, leave it alone” he said, turning the corner to the common room, he stopped immediately his breath hitching in his throat for a split second, 
“Y/N?” Nat beamed running over to give her a hug almost knocking her off of her feet “It’s been like a year since I saw you!” She grinned, 
“Hey Nat” She said gently, 
“You have to stay for dinner, Wanda’s cooking, she’ll want to see you. So will Steve, and Tony, oh and Sam!” She said “I’ll text them all now, they’ll set up a place for you” 
“Nat, I don’t think—” Y/N started 
“I don’t want to hear it, you’re staying” She said pulling out her phone and quickly tapping a message, 
“Y/N” Bucky said bluntly, his voice void of all emotions. 
“Hey” Y/N cut herself off unsure of what to call him so deciding against calling him anything,  her eyes wandered to his arm,  “the black and gold suits you” She said softly “Always said silver wasn’t your colour” 
“Shuri agreed with you” Bucky nodded
An uncomfortable silence settled across the two of them, 
“I should go” She said quickly, 
“Why did you come?” He asked a part of him not wanting her to disappear, not again 
“I, uh I found, I found this”  Y/N said her cheeks flushing red as she passed Bucky a t-shirt, one that he had forgotten about, but it certainly looked more worn now than how he remembered it. His heart squeezed at the thought of her wearing it after everything
“This is why you came?” Bucky said 
“You’re right, it was stupid. I’m gonna go” Y/N said quickly,  shaking her head as she turned, Bucky knew how she felt. He had imaged many times making an excuse to go and see her, he just didn’t think she was the kind of person to go through with it. 
“Y/N! Oh my, Nat said you were here. I’ve just laid the table dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes which is just long enough for you to catch me up on your life! Sorry Buck, but she’s with me until dinner. Then you can have her back” Wanda said not offering Bucky or Y/N a second option. 
----
“So Y/N where have you been?” Tony asked as they all sat down at the table “it’s like you dropped off the face of the earth
“Just around,” She said quietly 
“I came by your apartment, but it was empty” Tony said, 
“I had to move out” 
“You moved out?” Nat said “How come?” She said worry filling her voice 
“Life happens” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Bucky’s eyes fell on her face, watching how her eyes studied her plate not daring to look up 
“Well things always find a way of getting better” Wanda said squeezing Y/N’s hand on the top of the table 
“How about you guys, I’ve seen good things on the news” Y/N said softly 
“We’re okay” Steve said, 
“I”m pleased,” Y/N said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, 
“What’s your new apartment like?” Wanda asked, 
“It’s nice” Y/N said gently , 
“You should give me the address,” Tony said commandingly 
“I’ll send it over to you, I still don’t quite know it off by heart” She said, it was a lie. Bucky knew it was a lie, even if he couldn’t hear her heartbeat pick up, he would be able to tell from the way she couldn’t look at anyone in their eye. 
“What part of town is it?” Steve pressed, 
“I really appreciate you guys having me for dinner but I’m going to head home” She said quickly, “I’ll see you guys around” She said picking up her coat, 
“I'm sorry if I said something wrong” Steve apologised quickly, he should’ve known better than to press her, Bucky thought
“You don’t need to” Tony said trying to savour the dinner 
“Why don’t you stay for a movie?” Wanda suggested, 
“I need to go” She said standing up and quickly hurrying out of the room 
A gentle silence fell across the room, “I shouldn’t have asked her” Steve said 
“It’s not on you” Wanda said “I don’t think that anyone could have convinced her to open up to us” 
“I’ll find her address and go over tomorrow, it’ll be easier without anyone else there” Tony said fiercely, 
“She won’t talk to you” Bucky said 
“And she’ll talk to you?” Tony snapped “You’re the reason we are in this mess in the first place. She is my friend and I will do what I think is right” 
“What even happened when you broke up?” Wanda asked 
“ Nothing” Bucky said 
“Don’t lie” Tony snapped 
“What the hell did you do? I thought you two were fine” Nat asked 
“You told us all you two were fine after the breakup” Wanda said 
“Leave him alone” Steve said sternly 
Bucky sighed softly “She just came to drop off a shirt” 
“Nobody drops off a shirt after a year” Tony said “She wanted to see you and you couldn’t even give her the time of day” He snapped 
“She’ll be okay, I’ll come with you tomorrow, we can check in on her” Wanda said 
Bucky didn’t dare to say anything, he just nodded gently. It was a thank you, all be it a silent one, but a thank you none the less. 
----
“Tony, you need to see this” Wanda said as an alert popped up on the screen alerting Tony to a new message, they had been in Tony's lab for a few hours scouting out Y/N's new apartment.
“Have you seen where she is living?” Tony said scanning through the photos that FRIDAY had brought up on his screen “it’s worse than I thought”  
“Tony now” Wanda said fiercely,
“What is it?” Tony asked, turning around, his face dropping when he saw the screen. “Is that?” 
“Y/N” Wanda finished
“Who sent this” Tony asked 
“I don’t know, it’s anonymous. I can’t trace the signal either” 
“FRIDAY, call the team and get them into the conference room now” 
“Yes Mr Stark” FRIDAY answered 
“We can’t tell Bucky” Wanda said, 
“We can and we will because he is going to help us” 
“That’s a bad idea” Wanda said 
“He once was one the best assassins, no debate. As much as I don’t like the tinman, he can and will help us” Tony said leaving little room for debate. 
“Tony what the hell? We’re meant to have the week off of missions” Nat said, sitting down in a chair with a mug of coffee nursed in her hands
“This is different” Tony said, 
“How so?” Steve asked 
“This is personal” Tony said sternly, 
“It’s Y/N” Wanda whispered, 
“What happened to her?” Bucky asked 
“I was sent this video” Tony said
 “We thought it was best we watched it together” Wanda added 
“FRIDAY, play the video please”
The screen went dark for a moment and then lit up with a picture of Y/N locked in a room, Bucky felt a strange wave of familiarity wash over him 
“Tell your friends what we want” A voice spoke, it sent chills down Bucky’s spine, he put her in this position. He had done everything to keep her safe, after all these years, this was his fault. 
“They won’t come” Y/N’s voice was strangely calm 
“Don’t be difficult girl, tell them what we want” The voice spoke again 
“You want the soldier, you want someone who’s gone. But here’s the catch. Even if he wasn’t gone, even if the solider still existed he wouldn’t come. Not for me.” She said 
“We’ve done our research” The voice mused, there was a hint of amusement in it’s voice, as though it had caught Y/N out, 
“Your research is wrong. I haven’t spoken to Bucky in a year, he does’t care” Y/N snapped, a gunshot sounded through the conference room, making them jump 
“Turn it off” Bucky’s voice was quiet but cut through the entire room 
“Shooting blanks at me won’t work” Y/N snapped “If you’re going to kill me then kill me”
“Turn it off” Bucky said once more 
“We want the soldat” The voice behind the camera spoke 
“Then you’ll have to find someone who he cares about, because it  isn’t me” She snapped 
“You have six hours or she dies” 
The camera turned off and the room went dark. All eyes turned to Bucky, 
“When was this sent?” He said 
“Barely ten minutes ago” Wanda answered softly, 
“Let’s start at her apartment” Steve said firmly “Wanda, Clint you’re with me, Tony, Nat you should try and find something from the video, there might be an idea of where they’re keeping her.” 
“I need to go as well” Bucky said 
“No” Wanda said “You need to stay away from this” 
“I spent years tracking people down, I think I’m the best chance we have to finding Y/N” He said challenging anyone to speak out against him
“I’ll go as support” Sam said patting Bucky’s back comfortingly. 
“We need to go, now” Steve said 
----
Steve’s skin crawled at the sight of Y/N’s apartment.  He hesitated before pushing the door open, it creaked and echoed through the tiny studio. Clothes were thrown across the room, plates were stacked up by the sink, two blankets were half heartedly thrown across the bed, no sign of a duvet or pillow. Bucky had to tear his eyes away from her apartment for a minute to regain his composure. 
“I can’t believe she was staying here” Wanda said stepping into it
“It was a means to an end” Steve said, 
“I should have helped her” Wanda sighed softly, her eyes falling on the pile of clothes in the corner of the room,  
“We didn’t know” Clint said
“We should have” Wanda snapped “Look at how she was living, we should have been able to help” 
“She was always good at surviving” Steve said firmly 
“She shouldn’t have had to be, we are her friends and the moment her and Bucky split we left her” Wanda said, tears building in her eyes 
“They must have taken her here, look at the mess” Steve said changing the subject quickly,
“No” Bucky said softly “This is Y/N” Bucky said with a sigh
“What do you mean?” Clint asked “this is normal?” 
“When she got busy, she used to get messy, never put things away. Found it hard to do anything” Bucky said swallowing tightly  “We argued about it” He admitted 
“So did they take her here, or not?” Sam asked 
“Not here, this is normal for her. It didn’t happen here” Bucky said firmly
“Ok so that’s something” Sam said, attempting at a loose sense of positivity
“It must’ve happened by the compound” Wanda said “think about it, if they wanted Bucky then surely they’d be keeping tabs on him. When she left last night they must have taken the next best thing to get to him” She said 
“We need to look at security cameras”  Clint suggested 
“Who wants Bucky though?” Sam said, “I think we’re focussing too much on Y/N, rather than on what they want” 
“Hydra” Steve said through pursed lips 
“It can’t be” Wanda said 
“It has to be” Clint confirmed “It makes the most sense” 
“So who are we looking at? Zemo?” Sam asked 
“Maybe” Steve said “Doesn’t feel right though”, Steve’s thought was cut short by his phone ringing 
“Steve, I’ve got an address” Tony said, “suit up”
----
Bucky couldn’t stop shaking, he’d been on tougher missions, he’d been in tougher briefings, he had almost died more times than he could count. But this felt like the worst day of his life, 
“We’ve been sent an address,” Tony said 
“It’s a trap” Nat said 
“We don’t know that” Steve suggested, “Who sent it to you?” 
“It came with a video, it was from the same people as before” 
“What’s the video?” Sam asked, noticing the tension that had fallen across the room, 
Tony instructed FRIDAY to play the video, Y/N’s face was brought up on the screen, 
“Y/N tell them what you just told me” The voice spoke 
“No” She spat through gritted teeth, her hair was matted with blood which dripped slowly from a wound on her hair line, her face was bruised and Bucky was silently pleased he could only see to the base on her neck, anymore and he was sure he would throw up. The skin he had once pressed kisses to so gently was purple and blotted with blood. 
“Our captive here has a death wish” The voice said again, “She had her little suicide letters in her pocket when we caught her” it sneered 
“Shut the hell up” Y/N snapped, there was something in her eyes that scared Bucky, she looked so void of the love that she had once been filled with 
“She was on the top of a building when we found her, she’s only got 3 hours left avengers. Are you going to give in to her wishes?” 
“Just kill me” She whispered 
“What was that?” The voice asked, it was mocking her, teasing her, it was a sight that Bucky couldn’t stand 
“Kill me!” She shouted, her voice sent chills down each of the spines of her old friends “Just kill me” She said settling into a bought of sobs, 
The video stopped and cut to a map with a pin placed directly in it. 
“We need to go” Steve said “We leave in 5” 
----
The quinjet landed softly and Bucky could feel a knot growing in his stomach, he had been on enough rescue missions to know the ways that this could go. It was an old hydra base, one that Bucky was sure should’ve been emptied years ago. But here it stood, admittedly it was partly falling down but the cells were deep underground and the structures were built to last. He knew that much well enough, if he strained his ears he would swear that he could hear Y/N’s cries, but he convinced himself it was all in his head. 
“She’s going to be okay” Steve said 
“I can’t loose her Steve” Bucky admitted “I’ve lost her once, I can’t watch her die” 
“Then don’t let her” Steve said 
Bucky followed behind the rest of the team, Wanda stood beside him, 
“Do you want me to take the fear away?” She asked under her breath, knowing nobody else would be able to hear her 
“No, I need it” Bucky said, he didn’t explain anything else but Wanda nodded, 
“Let’s go get Y/N home” Wanda said
Bucky followed Tony’s lead, any other mission he would have tried to take the lead off of Tony but he couldn’t for this. Y/N needed Tony’s planning, Y/N’s life couldn’t be in Bucky’s hands. He would never forgive himself if anything happened. They descended into the base, it was too quiet for Bucky’s liking. Hydra would never have kept it this quiet, something was wrong. 
“Welcome home soldat” the words echoed through the halls, 
“They know we are here” Steve muttered, 
“She’s down here” Tony said, taking another set of steps downwards, Bucky could hear her shallow breaths getting louder slowly with each step he took. 
“Y/N?” Steve called out, 
“I told you to fucking kill me” Y/N screamed,  Tony immediately picked up the pace to a run following the sound of her voice.  Their footsteps echoed through the concrete walls, as they came across a long hallway filled with cells made of glass. Bucky’s skin crawled at the sight. This was what he wanted to protect Y/N from, she shouldn’t see this.  
“KIll me” Her voice rang through the cells, 
“Soldat” Bucky turned to find the voice behind him. “Do the honours?” The man said, he was older than Bucky thought he would be. 
“We’re surrounded” Steve said, 
“There’s no getting out of this” The man sneered, 
“That’s kind of where you are wrong” Tony said smartly, “You really think there’s only four of us?” He laughed 
“What?” 
“The rest of our team have cleared out your base, and they’re on their way” He said with a smirk “Also not only have we got two super soldiers, we’ve also got a freaky witch and me, ironman, you might of heard of me” 
“Ironman, you forget. You have an unstable winter soldier on your team, All I have to do is say a few words and he’s under my control right?” 
“Doesn’t work anymore” Bucky snapped 
“I’m bored” Nat said sneaking up from behind, with a wicked grin she pulled the trigger and the body fell to the ground with a thud. Instantly Bucky turned and shot the guard who was keeping him surrounded “God why are all the people we go against so boring” Nat said with a huff, once they had dealt with the guards. 
“Let’s just get Y/N” Tony said letting out a breath. 
Wanda took a step away from the group into a nearby cell, it was as though she felt her. 
“Guys she’s here” Wanda called, 
Bucky took a deep breath and turned the corner, Y/N sat slumped on a chair, out of breath and covered in bruises and dried blood. 
“Please” She whimpered 
“We’re going to get you out of here” Wanda said slowly untying her gently 
“Please no” She cried 
“You’re safe” Steve said kneeling at her side 
“No Please, let me go” She said 
“We’re letting you go, you’re going to be ok” 
“No, please” She sobbed again “You have to let me die” She cried as Wanda pulled the ties away from her 
“Y/N, we can’t do that” Steve said, 
“You’re going to be okay” Tony promised
“Just let me go please?” 
PART TWO
1K notes · View notes
sofiawritesstuff · 5 months ago
Text
PLATONIC
part 9
summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He's turns to the person he trust most in this world for help.
pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader
warnings: suggestive
part 8
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IT'S HERE!!! I apologise for the lack of uploads, I was in Spain and visited family in Italy, my car broke down and the plane was delayed. I was then in work for 5 day straight and I'm in for a further two nights too. No more excuses I will be back more consistently.
-------------
You with your arm wrapped around Lando's waited at baggage claim at the airport. While he called his brother updating him on how long the two of you would be, you decided to go onto the F1 gossip page.
f1gossippage
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f1gossippage Lando already enjoying his week off with girlfriend Y/N L/N. They were spotted this morning at the airport and appeared to be heading back home to the UK. Y/N also posted a picture with her holding a man's hand with the caption "home for the week".
-
"Well we've made it to the gossip pages again, a fan must have took a photo of us at the airport" you show Lando your phone, he looks down and your phone, humming kissing the top of your head.
As the two of you waited for your luggage to appear on the carousel, Lando tried to wake himself up by looking as the gossip pages "Cute picture of us though"
"At least Zak will be happy" you shrug "This is our week, let's not think about him. We will spend the night at Max's apartment, you will go to your meeting, I will pick you up and we will head to my parents. Just us, no Zak"
The noise of the carousel drew your attention to the suitcases arriving, luckily for both of you, your suitcases were the first ones out. You watched as Lando effortlessly lifted both cases off and nod towards the exit.
"Don't worry, I'll take it" he tells you as you go to take your case from him "Thank you, is Oliver outside?" you asked "Mhm, he has the car parked right outside"
The two of you walked out of the airport you saw Oliver stood outside the car "Ollie!" you smile running towards him "Hi sis, how are you" he smiles, hugging you tightly "I'm good how are you, how are my girls?"
"We're all good, the girls are desperate to see you and their Uncle Lala" he teases Lando ruffling his hair "Get off" Lando laughs hugging his brother
"You two have a lot to answer for by the way, Mum has seen the photos and I think her heart could have exploded with how excited she was that you two were finally together" Olivier says putting thr cases in the car
You felt your heart drop, Lando's mother had been like a mother to you for as long as you could remember, someone who had been longing for you and Lando to get together.
You and Lando looked at each other, frowns on both your faces "What?" Olivier questions looking between the you "Uhm" Lando starts "Listen, we're planning to go to Mum's and Dad's tomorrow night. We need to talk to everyone about what's been going on. Can you bring Savannah?"
"Okay, I have just felt my heart fall to my stomach. What's been going on?" he asks getting into the car "We will explain everything tomorrow, I promise you will know everything"
The drive to Max's apartment was nice, empty roads and hearing all about the children's lives, Lando's racing and your work place. You had the music blasting until Lando fell asleep on your shoulder.
"Still a big baby, I see" Olivier smiles, looking in the mirror "Yeah" you run a hand through his hair "He's exhausted, he has only just started to get a goodnight's sleep. Hopefully being back home he will sleep as good as the girls"
"Are you going to Canada?"
"Yeah, that's what my meeting is about tomorrow at work. My boss wants to see me just go see how I'm doing and about working from different places, trying to get a few clients. Get a few more posts on social media"
"Do you still like the job?”
“I like how flexible it is, my boss is literally so amazing but sometimes I wish i didn’t have to work during the weekends, I like just being able to put all of my focus into Lando”
“He appreciates everything you do for him you know, that one time when he was feeling down about the race and he came home to his favourite dinner and snacks. He messaged me telling me how grateful he was for you”
You blush, kissing Lando’s head making him snuggle into you more “He’d do the same for me”
“So are you going to tell me what’s been going on, or do I have to wait until tomorrow?”
“It’s best we tell everyone together” you admit as he brings the car to a slow stop “I understand, if there’s anything you need. Just give me a call”
“I will. Now do you want to do the honours of waking him up or will I?” you ask with a smirk “Give me the keys and I will take your cases inside. He will be less cranky waking up to you rather than me” he jokes, getting out of the car
You watch as he drags the suitcases to the door, you gently shake Lando awake "Baby come on, we're home"
He groans mumbling, wrapping his arm around you "Lan, we can sleep again in about ten minutes"
"That was a quick drive" he says waking up "Yeah for you, you slept the whole hour. Are you ready to go inside. Get some sleep in a bed"
He nods, leaning over giving you a quick kiss just as his brother gets back in the car "You're awake" Olivier says loudly making you two of you pull away "Yeah, thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow" Lando says quickly getting out the car
"Thanks Ollie" you rush out following him. He takes you hand rushing you inside. Closing the door behind him.
You enter the apartment, following Lando straight to the bedroom "It feels good being home doesn't it?" you tell Lando watching him take his shirt and trousers off getting into bed
"Yeah. I love Monaco but it feels good being here. Now come on get into bed"
--
The next morning, you woke up in just your underwear and the shirt Lando was wearing the day previously. You weren't used to the 7am wake up calls, you hadn't been for the past two years.
"What time is it?" Lando asks waking up "Sh, sh, sh. Go back to sleep. I'm going to work. Pick me up at 1pm okay?" you hold his face, kissing him quickly leaving the bed.
You head towards the hall, getting clothes from your suitcase, and got ready for the day. Just as you were about to leave Lando comes into the kitchen fully clothed and putting his shoes on.
"You ready to go?" he asks grabbing his keys "What are you doing up?"
"Taking you to work, there's no way I am letting you get a cab at this time in the morning, plus i'm going to drop our cases off at my parents"
"Thank you but I need to come back here after work to get changed anyway"
“All sorted, I’ve left clothes out for you” he says proudly. You walked into the bedroom to see a pair of jeans and shirt left out neatly on the bed for you.
“Thank you” you smile coming back through to thee kitchen. You grab your bag and follow him out the apartment, getting into the car
"How are you feeling about the meeting?" he asks reversing out of the drive "I'm not nervous about the meeting but I am nervous to go back into the office, so many of the girls hate me"
"They don't hate you"
"No they do, they hate me because you're in my life and not theirs. They only want you for your money and to fuck you" you scoff, he laughs putting his hand on your legs
"They will never get the chance baby, the only person that will ever get to fuck me in that office is you" he squeezes your leg sending you a wink
You look out of the window, hiding your smile. Watching as the weekday morning traffic slowly building up.
“Well I’ve definitely not missed this” you mumble turning your hand to Lando “Neither have I, how long is your meeting today?”
“Mark said I would be done by 12. Meeting starts at 10. I don’t think it will even last that long”
“Well I will be waiting for you at 11:45 where I drop you off. Do you want anything brought in for lunch? I can stop at the cafe just around the corner”
“No, no. I’ll be okay and get something at work. Get yourself something though” you smile rubbing his shoulder
“Will you though?” he asks turning the corner into the car park of your work “Yes. Thank you” you say taking your seatbelt off
Lando looks at you, staring out the window. Takes your hand in his in attempt to calm your nerves “You’ll be okay, I know you will. Go in and ignore anyone that has a problem with you. You know everything you need to do”
“Thank you” you smile “I love you, have a good day and I will be waiting here for you when you’re done”
“I love you too”
He leans in, giving you a kiss to the lips before kissing your head “Have fun” he says as you leave the car, you close the car door, waving at him through the window.
Entering the office, people come up to you greeting you, including your best friend Robert
“I’ve missed you so much, this place is hell without you” he hugs you tightly “It can’t have been that bad” you laugh sitting down at his desk
“Oh it is, I have so much to tell you but first tell me how you’ve been?”
“I’ve been great to be honest, I’ve absolutely loved travelling with Lando. Getting to experience his first win, we’ve tried so many different foods and countries. It’s been so good. We’re staying with his parents this week before heading to Canada”
“Yeah i’ve noticed how much you’ve enjoyed your time with Lando. I’ve seen the photo of you two kissing. He’s finally your boyfriend?” Robbie squeals
“Yeah, he is” you lie staring at the man across from you “So how did it all happen? I need all the details”
Before you can say anything Mark appears at the meeting room doors, signalling you both over. You thanked him in your head. Glad you don’t need to make up another lie.
“Tell me later” Robbie smiles, leading the way to the office “Okay” you nod
Everyone sits around the table, the few girls that you didn’t like sat across from you “Good morning everyone, thank you for those who aren’t here everyday for coming in. Also a big welcome back to Y/N who has been doing an incredible job getting clients in every country she’s been too. How have you been doing Y/N”
“Yes great thanks, so far I have gathered 12 clients and I'm off to Canada next weekend so I'm hoping to meet a target of fifteen then"
"And how are you going to do that attached to your boyfriends hip?" Emma asks with a smirk on her face "Well funnily enough I do have a life outside of my boyfriend, I'm not with him 100% of the weekend, I also use Thursdays to gather clients and have meetings with them throughout the weekend"
"Well we all appreciate your efforts Y/N, we only require you to work eight hours a day Monday to Friday so we are grateful for the overtime that you do and the calls that we have had since you've been away are great"
The hours fly by and before you knew it, it was 11:50. You gathered your belongings, putting them all in your bag. "So how are you getting home? Do you need a ride?" Robbie asks handing you your charger
"No, Lando is outside for me, we're heading back to his apartment so I can shower and then going to his parents for the week"
"That sounds nice" he says opening the door for you, you talk about the week ahead while heading down in the elevator "Well there's Lando and it looks like he brought you lunch too" he nods over to Lando leaning on the car
"Hey Lando!" Robbie waves "Hi Rob" he waves back "How was it?" he asks leaning down giving you a kiss "Better than I thought"
"I'm glad to hear, you had a slice of toast this morning and I know the most you'd have in there was a coffee so I got you a sandwich and a drink"
"Thank you" you lean up kissing him, he walks around opening the door for you "What a gentleman" you smile getting into the car.
part 10
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rehmes · 4 months ago
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Nothing Solitary about Us : ⋆༘ Wriothesley / reader | headcannons . oneshot
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‗ content / trigger warning: bigger story / reader background not fully mentioned, reader is a refugee, Wriothesley swooning (in his own way), thoughts of self doubt, fluff/angst?? Like a weird mixture of the two, not beta read, we die like Wriothesley's adoptive parents. ‗word count: 4k ‗ author's note: If you saw when I accidentally posted this the first time . . . no you didn't! Apologies if it's ooc, a little long, or has errors in spelling. English isn't my first language and this is the first time I've written for Wriothesley! Any suggestions to improve will be much appreciated! :D
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Wriothesley could still remember the day he saw you, the day that you had come into the Fortress after, purposefully, committing a crime to gain some sort of refugee status; Why you thought to come to a prison, of all places, to receive such a thing baffled him the most. And it had baffled him for the longest time until you had told him why:
You and The Duke first met when The Duke wasn’t even The Duke; Meeting as cellmates in the Fortress, having been put in the same age group for practically everything that the Fortress had to offer at that time. Which wasn't a lot, and with Wrothesley’s lack of enthusiasm to even look in your direction, it made everything a lot more insufferable. But, Wriothesley didn’t know that; He was just intent on staying out of your way and not causing any more trouble for himself. Likewise, the thought of making friends with you did creep into his mind but so did the doubts that you might hate him after you figured out why he was sentenced here. So, it took a lot for Wriothesley and you to actually begin talking, despite being paired for a lot of the backbreaking activities. And, Wriothesley does still remember that day, too: It was after a tiring shift, where you were both thoroughly whipped out and about to crash at the dinner tables. You both had used coupons to buy food, and didn’t even have the energy to sit at different tables, muchless to open the containers containing your dinner. It felt as though every muscle in your bodies had been torn, limb from limb, muscle from tissue and bone, it was excruciating… and you were about sure you could appeal to the Iudex about this being considered some sort of child labor. Maybe even murder if they kept pushing you both like this. Luckily, you guessed, Wriothesley looked a little better in shape than you did, but he was not far lagging behind. With shaking hands he reached out to open his dinner for the night, to only pause and stare down in horror at what was on his tray. It made you nervous to even peek into yours, seeing the way Wriothesley’s face contorted; A corner of his left eye tightening, his eyebrows furrowing down to create visible creases along his forehead, and a scowl you’ve only ever seen when someone bothered him. A look of pure disgust.
Yet, you still checked yours away. You didn’t know that Wriothesley had glanced up to see if you had gotten the same horror as he did, and by some god awful prank (or pure disluck) you also had the conglomeration on your plate. Some weird, mysterious meat that sat on the plate, sometimes twitching like it was still mooing, sometimes resting as meat should rest. Equally unappetizing and making your hunger even more apparent, as you were tempted to taste the horrific creation that came out of that unsanitized kitchen. “You know,” Your voice caught Wriothesley's attention, as his had drifted down to the plate of food in front of him. His eyes shot up and barely met yours, “it could be worse?” You shrugged your shoulders in a joking way, giving Wriothesley an awkward look paired with an even awkwarder smile. He was a bit baffled at your conclusion, “It could be worse?” He questioned, calm and steady, confused and a bit curious on where you were going to go with such a statement.
In his fatigue, he had broken the one rule he had set for himself in this place; Don’t talk to anyone, don’t make yourself known, don’t make any friends. In his fatigue he didn’t believe answering you would be so wrong nor did he believe that you two would ever speak again after his point, so why not entertain you… and himself.
“At least they didn’t puke on our plate?” The joke fell from your lips with the weakest chuckle you could muster. Your eyes drooped and the pain was evident in the way your eyes shined ever so less than normal. Wriothesley was about to respond, yet you managed to get at it before him; “You know, where I came from, if you didn’t have a fire you had to eat your fish cold! Like, ice cold. And there was nothing you could do about it… other descale the thing and pray you didn’t just eat your last meal.” “Is that right?” Wriothesley cocked an eyebrow up, unsure where you had come from yet didn’t enjoy the images that came into his head. Well, one was particularly funny and it was the thought of you trying to bite into a frozen fish and hurting your teeth. Not like he wanted that to happen, maybe. “Well, don’t give the kitchen staff any ideas or maybe they’ll just import that from your weird homeland.” It had been a while since Wriothesley had laughed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly alongside you. The conversation was a ridiculous one, especially when first conversations usually went along the lines of introducing yourselves to each other. Yet, oddly to Wriothesley, it felt about right. And from that day, Wriothesley was sure he didn’t know of a day where he didn’t talk to you. Even if it started with a small greeting in the hallway or pointers on how to do a job more efficiently, small conversation gradually turned into the two of you chatting for hours eating lunch or dinner and even trying to talk after lights out. It finally felt like you had escaped your past and had a friend in a place you named your refuge, and Wriothesley finally felt like he had met someone (though this feeling was slow and gradually coming) that would accept him, despite his past doings.
Wriothesley interlocked his fingers, resting his elbows on the table, and nestled his chin on the finger net he had made. His eyes were softer than usual, yet that piercing blue. Back then, when you two had simply been inmates trying to work out your frustration and struggles with the world; Now, you laid on the couch in Wriothesley’s office in the fortress, with his coat draped over you like a blanket, napping. From outside eyes, you both would look like the perfect couple, yet he hadn’t even managed to ask you the question yet; But, he had an inkling you understood, just as he did, how he felt about you. Otherwise, Wriothesley couldn’t fathom why you decide to spend your nights in his office, keeping him company, when you could be in the nurse wing with Sigewinne or doing “orderly duties” for the fortress above on the surface. It made a small smile twitch onto his lips seeing you, you always managed to do that; But, it also bubbled the age old question in his mind . . . is this life good enough for you? Wriothesley is usually a calm man, a collected one, who didn’t often question why people came to the Fortress and simply gave them a second chance at peace – well, more frankly, at life. He understood how such a thing could quell the anger that simmered in convicts and made it his life work to make sure everyone was treated as fairly as they worked for. Yet, you? You were a different question. He still wasn’t sure why you had come to the Fortress in the first place, yet had deduced from several conversations you came from the Snezhnaya. Sure, he could go into the room lined with file drawers with the reasons why convicts had been placed into captivity, but that room was one, far too crowded for his taste, and two, he didn’t wish on peaking into your personal life. At least, without your permission. 
Yet, still, the thought always crossed him on why you were here – by choice! Not that you walked in and checked yourself in, yet you committed many crimes to be noticed in Fontaine, trailed in court, then admitted to your crimes to be placed into the Fortress. The thought of doing such a thing made him cross his arms and lean back in the chair, his eyes more settled on your sleeping form and the way his jacket hugged the curves of your body. You always looked so happy on the surface, to see the sky and breathe the fresh air. Wriothesley wouldn’t want to keep you trapped in the Fortress. “I’ve never seen you so pensive before, Duke!” A voice suddenly appeared besides Wriothesley, causing him to jerk out of his train of thought. He sat up straight, a little suddenly, as he quickly turned to notice the all too familiar nurse of the Fortress: Sigewinne. The Duke played off his thoughts with a chuckle, “Ah, yes, well, I was thinking about something, Sigewinne.” He would half-heartedly joke, as the nurse gave him an all too unamused look. ‘No shit’, was what he was sure she was telling him in her head, but he only responded with a cool snicker. “Well, the tea you ordered from Liyue arrived at the Fortress and I came wondering if you wanted some,” The offer hung in the air, and Wriothesley knew the nurse would tag on a remark. “But it seems like you may need to talk out some problems.” She wasn’t an expert on human emotions, but she was better than spilling his mind to an inmate, Wriothesley guessed… or maybe even you. A pensive hum left the Duke’s lips as Sigewinne walked over, a hop away from skipping, and settled her tray with tea onto his desk. Promptly, she would nestle herself properly into a chair on the other side of Wriothesley’s desk, hands resting over her stomach and a pleased smile on her face.
“Go on, Wriothesley! I’m open ears.” Chimed the Nurse. Though only playful sarcasm came from the Duke as he poured himself a cup of tea, “Hmm, talking about my emotions? That seems like such a fun topic.” He knew it was needed, if not wanted. Even more so when Sigewinne didn’t seem too pleased with his half-hearted answer; As she pouted her lips and let out an extensive huff; “As the nurse, I care for everyone in the Fortress and that includes you too, Duke! Please, don’t make my job any harder than it needs to be.” There was an earnest tone in her voice, and Wriothesley knew she was getting better in her studies.
Even more so when she shook her head after his moments of silence, “Your eyebrows are frowned and your eyes rest everywhere but me or,” Wriothesley’s eyes drifted to you when Sigewinne pointed you out. You had shifted in your sleep, now laying on your back. You were peaceful; It made his eyes soften. He remembered when you used to have trouble sleeping by yourself, never feeling safe enough… Now you were sleeping like nothing in the world could ever hurt you. Like those fears of the past were nothing but fears. And they were; Wriothesley will make sure of it.
Sigewinne’s eyes had drifted off to you too. She was silent as she surveyed the way you slept and then the way Wriothesley lingered his attention on you. “You’re still debating whether or not to tell her, huh?” “And where did you hear that?” There’s the cheeky Sigewinne that Wriothesley knew. Of course, he knew her more caring side as the Nurse but he had a hunch that she also knew about why he had been so “thoughtful” – to put it colorfully. Though Sigewinne would shake her head and smile, “You’re very obvious sometimes! I think even Miss Clorinde knows!” That wouldn’t be good. Not at all. “Does she now?” But Wriothesley had to remain cool, collected. Now, it wasn’t that Wriothesley was embarrassed for others to know of his crush on you – well, by this point, it’s lasted so long he was sure he could dub it love, but better safe than sorry if you didn’t return his feelings – but he was simply cautious about other inmates knowing. After all, you were still technically one of them, an inmate. Your sentencing had been for about three years, maybe four, but you never left. You had chosen to stay since the first day you came, technically giving you a life sentence on your own will. So, if the other inmates know about the two of you – or well Writoehsley’s feelings – it could put your life in danger. There was a tick of silence again, something Wriothesley was rather fond of sometimes… like in this case. Yet, his eyes did not miss Sigewinne standing up from her chair and striding over to where you rested on the couch. There was a careful, cautious, way she held her hand out as she checked you.
“She’s still asleep,” Sigewinne noted.
And Wriothesley hummed in response, “I couldn’t tell.” Where was Sigewinne going with this, Wriothesley’s eyes narrowed slightly, though they were not harsh.
“Maybe she’s dreaming about you, Duke!”
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Wriothesley is a hard man to crack. He was the Duke of the Fortress, a peacekeeper among the convicted, and yet sometimes when he was with you he couldn’t help but be that ever so lenient. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to confess to you after Sigewinne had come skipping into his office late one day while you were in her Medical Bay. It wasn’t uncommon, of course, being in the Fortress there were few people to speak to you with the kindness Sigewinne does; And you two often had conversations, even nights where you would have quote-on-quote sleepovers. Yet, today you went due to a headache. And, no less than an hour later, Sigewinne came skipping into his office like she had won the lottery – and Wriothesley half-entertained such a ridiculous thought. “What’s the good news, Nurse Sigewinne?” Wriothesley played along with her bubbly demeanor; Enjoying the change of pace from his slow, meticulous work which dragged on for hours on end. He swore to himself when he was half way done, he would go check on you, yet he was only a ¼. Luckily, seemingly, the news had been brought to him. “Well, they’re doing a lot better! It only appeared to be a headache due to not drinking enough water, but that tends to be normal.” Sigewinne reported as she came to a halt beside Wriothesley’s desk. “But, she also spoke rather colorfully about you!"
“Oh?” Wriothesley’s curiosity peaked, though a voice also nagged him about respecting your privacy. “Is that a good thing, or perhaps a bad thing, Nurse Sigewinne?” He knew she wouldn’t be able to tell him much, as there still was patient confidentiality, even in the Fortress. But, by the way Sigewinne’s face beamed and the way her hands animatedly rested upon her hip, he was sure she was about to tell him to shoot his shot… once again. He thought it was enough she had gotten the others to bug him about it, while also still placing stickers upon his back, but he couldn’t stay angered, or even annoyed, at them for long. Or at all. “I can’t say much, but I say you have a very good chance of landing her, Mr. Wriothesley!” Sigewinne beamed, and Wriothesley swore her smile went ear to ear.
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Wriothesley was a private man, as private as one can get for being the Duke of a prison, yet you can always tell how he felt about a person from his actions. He was, and is, a man of few words … he always had been since you two were teenagers. And you never failed to take notice of it. Especially when he first began to give you some favor. 
Of course, it was nothing too big, nor grand, when you were teenagers going onto young adults. It was small gestures that would brighten up your day ever so slightly more, like holding open the door for you or walking closer when a nasty group of inmates sent creepy looks your way. He had even gotten into a fight with one of them after they approached you. Wriothesley had walked away for a second, going to get you both your lunch, when he turned around to see the guy grabbing your arm. Seeing you wriggle and writhe under the man’s disgusting touch was more than enough for Wriothesley to send a nasty blow to the side of the guy’s head, which caused him to crack his head open on the floor below.  It had been one of the few complications he had gotten into while at the Fortress, and he never regretted it. At least, that’s what he constantly told you and you had to believe his word. But, that event had been the first time that you felt some sort of pang in your heart regarding the, now, Duke; And it surely wasn’t the last. Especially after you were sure that Wriothesley was sending signals your way constantly by his small actions that always made you feel safer, closer, to him.
Yet, you had always had your own reservations on confessing to the Duke; Mostly having to do with where you came from, why you had left, and who was currently looking for you. You didn’t want Wriothesley, no matter how many times he defended you and said he would punch someone’s lights out if they messed with you, to get hurt because of the people you used to know. So you always waited for him to confess… and then tell him the dangers. But, day by day you compiled more and more reasons as to why Wriothesley might love you, and many more reasons why you loved him back. For one, he was a complete gentleman; To that, while he tended to be a little short and cold, he very much made it apparent that you could tell him anything, or even just lean on him if you needed. When you two walked, sometimes his hand would rest on the small of your back rather than your waist, and he would open the doors for you when you entered a building. Then there was the glares to the inmates who tried to mess with you, which was a little less fun to deal with, but a comfort nonetheless, and the visits to the Medical Bay he’d personally take to check up on your well being. There was, of course, a lot more that Wriothesley did that always made you feel special, more than you could ever count in a lifetime. And you were sure if things were different in your life you would have confessed to him long ago about the feelings that continuously welled in your chest, like a rapid river bashing against a dam begging to be freed yet never feeling such freedom. Man, wasn’t that poetic? 
“Hey, we need to talk.” Wriothesley’s voice was like a net, catching your attention and bringing it to shore – bringing you back to the present moment and back to Wriothesley. You had been at lunch, having brought up your meal you bought with coupons up to Wriothesley’s office and was currently toying with it on his floor. You would usually be sitting on the couch, waiting for the Duke to spare some attention to you which he tended to grace you with more than others. (Seriously! You had watched Neuvillette have to sit and wait for about an hour or more to speak with the Duke as he finished up some paperwork. It was slightly painful). But, you decided to not test your luck that day and possibly stain Wriothesley’s couch with… whatever you were eating. Honestly, you were so lost in thought you had forgotten what they had served, and now looking at it, it was too much of a mess for your brain to piece together. “A talk? That’s never good,” The sly comment shortly dropped from your lips, a snicker across your face as you glanced up at the Duke. His arms were crossed in a somehow pensive and relaxed (you weren’t sure how that's feasible, but he made it work) fashion as he leaned back against his chair, having taken his eyes off of his work for the first time in a few hours. Unknown to you, he hadn’t been able to complete some of the papers that flooded his desk because his mind kept drifting back to you. You. God, you were so perfect in his eyes. Even if he logically knew that no one could be quote-on-quote perfect, he sometimes chose to ignore that fact for you. Only you, really. 
“Nah, I think you’ll like this one,” Wriothesley continued, a chuckle present upon his lips that gave his stubble some light. When was the last time he shaved? The thought crossed your mind. You didn’t mind it, of course, you always enjoyed his stubble, it made him look more handsome in your eyes. But, even so, his looks weren’t enough to evade your skeptical side glance and the cock of your eyebrow. Even if Wriothesley snickered, knowing you had been checking him out a little; After all, he sometimes purposely lets his stubble grow out for you. Wriothesley was a man of few words, and even sometimes his words tended to fail him. So, there was a brief moment that his eyes lingered onto yours, and yours lingered right back to his. A beat, maybe even longer, before he stood from his desk and strided over to where you sat on the floor, kneeling down to your height. And, being so close, you could almost see all the words that were swirling in his head in his eyes; The regrets yet also momentums that wanted to pour out, yet he kept locked inside, as he reached a hand out and wiped a smug of food from your cheek. To others, his face might have seemed cold or indifferent, but you could tell there was some sort of attentiveness in his eyes that gave him away. It always had. And, just like Wriothesley, your own eyes and body always tended to give you away to him. The way your eyes crinkled ever so more when you laughed at one of his poorly delivered jokes. The way you always entertained the joke of Sigewinne being your shared child, much to her dismay, and the way you always naturally floated to his presence when he was in a room.
“You’re a horrible liar, you know that, right?” Wriothesley would tease, as a crinkle appeared in the corner of his eye. You knew what he was talking about and it made your heart flip. Both in a good way and a bad way. You would feel guilty putting Wriothesley into the fire that you had forged, which burnt down everything you had ever known beforehand. And yet, you were unaware that Wriothesley was equally as revered as confessing to you due to the likeness that the Fortress might become your shared home. He didn’t want that life for you as much as you didn’t want your life for him. And yet, despite that, Wriothesley was shooting his shot, as despite all the uncertainties that clouded both of your minds, there will still always be a shared affection for one another that wouldn’t fade easily, if ever. So, you snorted and confessed, “You’re not much better yourself, Duke.” Despite your mind screaming at you differently.
And, it was strangely peaceful to get that heavy weight off your chest, even if it felt like your heart was being crushed all the same. Though, if you were able to weather your own struggles with anyone, you know it would be with Wriothesley – in turn, Wriothesley knew that if push came to shove, you’ll be there to lend him the extra strength to deal twice the blow. And so it always felt right, in your hearts, for you two to be together. Yet, why did that new found heavyweight only grow heavier?
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jjenthusee · 1 month ago
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Where We Are
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
A/N: honestly this has been marinating in my mind for a while because a while ago I saw @sunnie-angel post this small writing (linked here) and I wanted to write something for it, but I haven’t gotten to sit down and complete something :( BUT i finally sat down and wrote because i needed something as a break from my end of semester stress from school :D i would also recommend reading the linked post first so it gives some context and insight to why i was so drawn to it and how it heavily inspired this fic. ENJOY and like, comment if your comfortable 💐
Summary: How do you live with the memories of Jason after his death as Robin?
Tags: AAAANGST, have a nice day :)
Word Count: 1.6k
A boy.
Full of so much life and raw emotion, who stood against the worst of Gotham.
He saw so much of its poison. It struck him, filled his veins, but he fought every day against the pain. Only when he finally left did Gotham return its thanks.
Everyday was torture. The memorials, the photographs, the graffiti. Streets littered with “We remember you.” Every waking second was a reminder that he was gone.
No more late night chats, meeting at the library, leaning against his shoulder.
You can still taste the bile that consumed your throat when you opened your door to Alfred standing there with the most chilling expression. Once he said your name in such a matter-of-fact tone, you knew. Your heart ached the same way it did when your thoughts brought you back to your worst fears, maybe it ached worse but that memory is buried in the back of your mind.
You slammed the door on Alfred. Grabbing your phone, calling one of the most recent phone numbers in your call history. It rang and rang. Nothing.
You left voicemail after voicemail. Begging, yelling, crying into the ending message to pick up.
You couldn’t walk down the road that led to the same library you spent all summer with him. The humid air beating down on you before the air conditioning sent a chill down your back. Scanning your library cards, returning books, letting Jason give you recommendations.
The memory made your eyes water.
You did everything to avoid it all.
Taking the longer path to school, playing music in your ears loud enough to drown out the passerby’s conversations about how tragic such a thing could happen to a young boy, avoiding any sort of color that matched the suit he was so proud of.
The same one that took him.
The more you avoided, the more the image of him chased you. Billboards, coffee cups, baseball caps. Robin was everywhere.
Until you saw a memorial video that some Gothamite made on social media.
It broke you one more time.
You screamed and screamed until your voice couldn’t. He was gone. Your Jason was truly gone.
You couldn’t get mad at him cheating at board games, you wouldn’t hear his laugh, no more asking him to drop off food while he was on patrol.
The world took the other half that completed you.
When the pain numbed out and you felt the guilt of your actions, you apologized to Alfred. You got back on track for school, the world wasn’t better, but it didn’t weigh on you as much.
You finally took a walk down the road you didn’t dare look down. You held your breath when you crossed over the invisible line, taking you down a familiar path, but with only one pair of shoes on the sidewalk this time.
You walked with your hands clenched, before you found yourself in front of one of the small memorial stands. A tiny Robin keychain stared back at you. You paid the seller with cash and continued on your walk.
The air hung heavy in your lungs as you stopped. Coming face to face with Jason’s favorite gargoyle that sat in front of the library steps. You fought the tears with lowered eyebrows and a stiff expression to place the key chain on the base of the statue. You grabbed a permanent marker out of your bag to write in big bold letters, “We Remember You.”
It was sloppy writing, but it captured your unrelenting, unapologetic emotions that Jason had always told you was why he loved being your friend.
As the weeks went by, more tiny Robins appeared on the gargoyle. Flowers were placed and you finally listened to the city mourn your friend.
Eventually you graduated, took a job at the library because you didn’t know anything about your future into being a young adult. Life was simple, it was enough.
You finally felt some stability on the anniversary of Jason’s death before you heard talk of a new Robin. That a replacement had been made.
You were at a rage again.
When times were too tough or when you just didn’t know how to handle yourself, you called Jason’s phone. Leaving voicemails admitting how much you missed him, how mad you were that he couldn’t even wait until you were able to beat how many books he checked out at the library, now it wasn’t fair to continue the competition by yourself. How mad you were that they didn’t retire the Robin suit after he sacrificed everything for it.
You didn’t even question how his phone line was still running as long as you could leave more voicemails.
When your rage started to cool, you joined Alfred one morning while the cold air chilled your face. Alfred handed you a hot tea that you refused to take, but Alfred always managed to get his way. It brought a smile to your face when you realized Jason used to do the same thing.
You walked with him down your familiar path to work. Before Alfred could say anything, your body unconsciously walked up to a new park bench. It wasn’t worn, but freshly placed with a shiny plaque that you couldn’t move your eyes from.
“In memory of Jason Todd-Wayne, a son who is loved as much as he loved books.” You quietly read.
You couldn’t move. You didn’t say anything to Alfred as he handed you a handkerchief when you felt the tears drop down your chin. The two of you just stood there, admiring the wood, the brass, and the memories.
When Alfred said his goodbyes, you stayed there. Afraid to sit down, but afraid to leave.
You spent the following anniversary standing next to the bench, next to the one place that was so precious to your childhood. The fear prevented you from taking a seat.
By the next anniversary, you managed to sit on the bench. Alfred visited again, shining the plaque and wiping down the park bench. You didn’t say much, but it was comfortable and breathing wasn’t that difficult that year.
By the most recent anniversary, you were starting to spend every important milestone at Jason’s bench. When you got your degree in library science, you sat with your cap and gown. When you got a job promotion at the library, you came to sit and watch the sunset.
Life was content as you passed Jason’s bench and gargoyle on your way to and from work. It was a part of you.
One late night as you locked up the library, making sure all the part-timers and volunteers made their way out safely and secured the doors, you said goodbye to your coworkers as you made your way down the worn steps.
Your feet ached from the new shoes that didn’t support you enough, but your walk back to your apartment would be short to endure the pain. The fatigue could wait until you walked through the front door.
You trudged through the familiar path, passing the same trees, shops, gargoyle. Fifteen paces, another thirty, but you couldn’t continue to count your steps when you saw someone facing Jason’s bench.
A tall man, large build, covered in a large hoodie with the hood raised. Only a couple strands of hair stuck out the opening, but you couldn’t see a clear face.
It was eerie how still the figure was, the small fog of breaths were the only indicator that the person was living.
You quickly moved to the edge of the sidewalk as you distanced yourself from the large man. You held your breath as you briskly walked passed, but a small ache hit your chest. A tiny feeling, so minuscule that you tried to talk yourself into not looking back.
Why would you do that late at night in Gotham?
Two paces, five paces. You paused and turned your head over your shoulder.
They were gone. Only a clear yellow street light shining down on Jason’s bench.
Weird.
But you weren’t going to find out what that was. You paced back to your apartment, throwing your jacket off, letting your aching muscles relax on the couch. You sighed as you couldn’t get the figure out of your head.
By the morning, you woke up early to get some breakfast on your way to work. A quick drink and some food to help give you some energy. You said ‘Good morning’ to the owners, passed by other early commuters.
You held your warm drink, breathing in morning air and taking your breakfast to-go, until you sat at Jason’s bench. It had been a while since you got to enjoy a meal there.
You sat, listening to the birds, seeing morning joggers pass, kids making their way to school, and you finished your meal. You got up to throw your trash away and took one last glance at the plaque.
You memorized the phrase engraved on there, but still took the time to read through every word. You took your hand out of your warm jacket pocket and felt your hand graze over the cold brass, your fingers feeling the grooves and the strict maintenance courtesy of Alfred.
In one last sigh, you turned to get to work, tapping the base of the gargoyle before the steps, happily humming to the calm start to your morning. Then another ache hit you just before your last step.
You turned around, but all the people hanging around the block were further away, enjoying the company of others or taking a stroll. You glanced around, unsure of what you were looking for.
But your search was interrupted by the cheerful voice of your coworker making his way up the steps.
You pushed down the feeling of the unknown, but some days you always felt like maybe Jason was with you, maybe from his bench built in his memory or the fact that this place was important to the two of you, but you always knew you were going to carry a portion of Jason with you.
In some comforting way, you told yourself that maybe your Jason never left.
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betterbooktitles · 11 months ago
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"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.
Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.
Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.
While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.
Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."
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