#...i am proud that i did something for myself. i am proud that i safely went out of my comfort zone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queen-of-the-avengers · 2 months ago

Text

Harsh Reality

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: minor angst, being cheated on (not by bucky), fluff

Summary: You come home to surprise your boyfriend only to end up catching him with another woman in bed. Now, you have to live somewhere else. You try to move on with your new roommates but it proves to be difficult when you were never really good at the dating part of your relationships.

Square Filled: safe house (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

One in a Million Series

Author’s Note:��a while back, i announced i wanted to make a series based on the show New Girl, and i didn't want to wait around to write it. i won't be doing every episode in the seasons, and i won't be doing it word for word like i do for my rewrite. enjoy!

Your plane lands earlier than expected and the first thing you want to do is surprise your boyfriend, Jack. You left to go to a teacher’s conference in New York and have been gone for an entire week. That’s not much but it is when you consider you and Jack haven’t been apart for more than a couple of days out of the six years you’ve been with him.

You left your car with him since he didn’t have one so you took a taxi back to your apartment. You’re bouncing with giddiness and slight anxiety because you’re doing something you’ve never done before.

For those who know you, you’re not very good with the whole sexy seducing thing. Jack makes it easy for you. He takes care of everything and that includes you. Still, doing something out of your comfort zone is nerve-racking as it is exciting. Your best friend, Natasha, is on the phone while you’re in the back of the taxi wearing nothing but a brown trench coat.

“Why am I so nervous? This is a good thing, right? I mean, this is for Jack.”

“You’re not used to doing something like this but trust me, he’s going to love it.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to walk in and drop my coat on the ground. He says he had this fantasy that I'm a stripper with a heart of gold, and he's helping me put myself through college.”

“He didn't say the college part, did he?”

“Um, no, I wanted to create a three-dimensional sex character.”

“Really? What's your stripper name?”

You look at the driver who briefly looks at you. “Rebecca Johnson?”

“Your stripper name is Rebecca Johnson?” Natasha asks.

You can practically hear her bitch face.

“Boobies Johnson,” you quickly correct. “Two-boobs Johnson.”

“Look at you, in the back of a cab, totally naked. I am so proud of you.”

The driver pulls up to the house that you share with Jack. “I gotta go. I’m here.”

“Good luck, Two-boobs Johnson,” she chuckles.

You pay the taxi driver as you get out and walk inside your home. It’s quiet so maybe Jack is still sleeping. He’s known for sleeping in late. He doesn’t have a job because he got laid off two months ago, but he’s been doing odd jobs to keep the money coming in. That plus your teacher’s salary is enough to get by. You walk to the closed bedroom door and open it with a smile, however, that smile is lost when you come face-to-face with Jack.

He’s not sleeping. No, he’s fucking another woman. Both of them look at you with wide eyes, and Jack pushes his mistress off him as if she means nothing to him.

“Y/N! You’re home early.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I gotta go,” you whisper.

You quickly turn and run out of the house, forgoing the fact that you’re practically naked. Jack calls after you but you don’t stick around to hear what kind of lame excuse he has for you. The taxi is long gone and you don’t have the heart to call for another one, probably because your hands are shaking so much. How can he do this to you? You’ve been together for six long years.

You thought he was the one.

Natasha lives on the other side of town but you make it there sooner than you thought you would for someone who was running. She has a nice apartment overlooking the city. It was out of her price range but because she is so good with selling herself, she talked the landlord down to a price she was able to afford. She’s one of the best real estate agents this city has ever seen, so the landlord didn’t have a problem with lowering the price for her.

You knock twice on her door and she opens it with a frown.

“What happened?”

“He cheated on me,” you whisper. “I caught him with a woman in his bed.”

“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry. Come in.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her place. “I’ve never liked him.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Listen to me. I know how you are. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

“Why did he do that? Am I not attractive enough? Sexy enough? Is it my singing?”

“No, it’s not your singing,” she sighs. “Men are pigs and Jack’s true colors came through. This is all on him.”

“I wondered why he wasn’t taking my calls. I just figured he was working.”

Natasha sighs and rubs your back in comfort.

“You don’t need him, Y/N. Listen, you can stay with me until you find something else, okay?”

“No, I don’t want to impose.”

“I’m serious. It’s okay. I have the spare bedroom you can use.”

Despite her offer, you don’t want to worm your way into her life. She’s active on dating sites which means she brings home guys left and right. She lives alone and you remember what it was like to have someone invade your space like this. It’s why that night, you go online to see if there is anyone who is looking for roommates.

You shouldn’t go on sites like Craiglist when it comes to living somewhere, but you don’t make a lot of money as a teacher. If you were to go through an agency or even on Facebook, you wouldn’t find something cheap. You scroll through the obvious trolls until you get to one ad for an apartment downtown.

Four bedrooms. Open floor plan. It’s a loft of sorts. There are three women there looking for a fourth, and you think this is what you need to make a new start. You’re afraid if you slow down, you’ll be forced to think about your ruined relationship with Jack. You’ve never been cheated on so the betrayal hurts that much more. You gave him six years of your life and now…

What are you going to do?

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you respond to the ad that you’re interested and go to bed.

Tomorrow morning, you wake up to seven missed phone calls from Jack and over twenty messages, but you ignore them and get ready. Natasha is eating breakfast in the kitchen already dressed to show a house.

“Have a house to sell?”

“Yeah. I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“I might have found an apartment.”

“What?”

“I saw an ad on Craigslist. I know it’s not ideal, but I’m going over to them right now. It’s three women looking for a fourth roommate for their loft.” You see the look on Natasha’s face and sigh. “I need something to do Nat, otherwise all I’ll do is cry.”

“Okay. Call me if you need me.”

“I will,” you smile.

You get dressed and head over to the apartment downtown. You knock on their door and freeze when a man with a metal arm opens the door. Two men, one blonde and one muscular, stand behind him, and you look confused when you don’t see any women.

“Are you Y/N?” the man at the door asks.

“Yeah. I’m here for the apartment listing if you’ll still have me.”

“Nonsense. Come in,” the blonde one smiles.

You walk in and look at the loft, already liking what you see. You don’t care that you assumed it was women and they’re men, you just need a new place to live. As much as you love Natasha, that’s her space and you don’t want to intrude. Plus, you don’t want to feel like a charity.

“My name is Y/N, but you already know that from the ad,” you say nervously.

“I’m Steve and this is Thor and that is Bucky.”

“Cool metal arm you have. I’ve never seen that before.”

“Thanks,” he mutters.

When you get nervous, you get chatty, and these three men make you hella nervous. It’s not that they’re intimidating or mean, but you’ve never lived with three guys at once. The only man you’ve ever lived with was Jack, and even sometimes that was too much. So, you start by telling them more than what they want to know.

“So, you know in horror movies when the girls are like, ‘Oh my God, there's something in the basement. Let me just run down there in my underwear and see what's going on in the dark.’ and you're like, ‘What is your problem? Call the police.’ and she's like ‘Okay’ but it's too late because she's already getting murdered? Well, my story's kind of like that.” You tell them everything from Jack cheating on you to not wanting to live with your best friend and invading her privacy. “So, that happened. That's why I need a new apartment. I'm sorry, what was the question again?”

“Do you have any pets?” Bucky asks.

“No, I don’t,” you chuckle and stand up. “This place is beautiful. It gets so much light. Jack hated light. It's hard to say his name.”

“It's okay. Bucky knows. He got dumped,” Steve says.

“Dude,” Bcuky hisses.

The place doesn’t look fancy but it’s new and it can be the start of a new chapter if they let you.

“You know what, I want to live here,” you grin.

“Actually, I still have some questions,” Bucky says. “No offense, but we barely know ya.”

“Yeah, okay. Full disclosure, I'm kind of emotional right now because of the breakup so I'll probably be watching Dirty Dancing at least six or seven times... a day.” Thor shakes his head but doesn’t say anything to that. “Um, I'm a teacher so I bring home a lot of popsicle sticks and arts and crafts. Also, I like to sing to myself… a lot.” You start to sing. “A lot.” You sigh. “I don’t want to live with my friend. I hate feeling like a charity case even though she doesn't mean to treat me that way.”

“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to talk in private,” Steve says.

All three men go into the bathroom while you take the opportunity to look around.

“I think it’d be good to have a woman in here,” Steve says. “It’s good to have a woman’s touch in here.”

“No, all she’s going to do is disrupt our vibe,” Thor argues.

“Bucky? What do you think?”

“Well, I’ve lived with a woman before so I know there are pros and real cons. For one, they smell good but their girly shit will start to be everywhere. Um, they’re good at folding.”

“Okay, we’re not going to come to a conclusion but I’ll take Bucky’s indecisive for a yes. She’s in!”

“Yay, I’m in!” you say from outside the door. Steve chuckles and opens the bathroom door, and you smile at all three men. “You won’t regret this.”

Natasha was weary about you moving into a place with three strange men but you need this. It didn’t take long for you to move in since you didn’t take much from your old place, so the reality of your situation comes crashing down around you the second you get a bit of breathing room. Dirty Dancing plays on the TV for the third time, and you’re lying on the couch surrounded by used tissues and a few of your boxes. Natasha must have called your mom because she immediately called you, worried about living with three strange men.

“I’m fine, mom. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Baby, you and Jack broke up. Of course, I’m going to worry about you. You’re not watching Dirty Dancing, are you?”

“No, I’m not watching Dirty Dancing,” you mutter.

“Did you make sure those men aren’t murderers? You know how badly I stress Stranger Danger. You’re my baby, Y/N.”

Just then, Bucky walks into the room.

“Hey, are you gonna murder me 'cause you're a stranger I met on the internet?”

“Yes, I am,” he says without looking at you.

“He says no,” you say to your mom. Thor and Steve walk in, having just come from the gym. “I gotta go, mom. I love you.”

“So, the biggest party of the year is on Saturday. I'm trying to get us in but you may need to call Sharon,” Steve says to Bucky.

“I’m not calling Sharon.”

“Hear me out, Buck.”

Before Bucky can say anything, you sob as another wave of depression hits you. All three men look at you and huddle around each other, not sure how to handle this. They haven’t lived with a woman in years, and Bucky slaps his hand on Steve’s chest.

“You did this. You wanted her in. You fix it.”

“Okay, I got it.” Steve walks over to you and sits on the edge of the couch. “Hey, Y/N. Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine,” you sniffle.

“Why don’t we turn off the movie, okay?” Steve takes the remote from you and turns off the movie. “Come on, sit up.” You do and he smiles kindly at you. “See? Doesn’t that feel a bit better?”

“Not really.”

“Look, I was cheated on before. It wasn’t fun. In fact, it felt a bit shitty. I don’t know you that well but I know you didn’t deserve it. Look, there’s this party on Saturday, and you need to get your mind off your ex. It’ll be fun. You’ll go out, meet some people, have a few drinks, and forget all about him. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Now, why don’t you get dressed? Bucky works at a bar. We’ll go out for a few drinks and maybe get you a rebound.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You get off the couch and trudge to the bathroom to shower.

“This is all hinging on actually getting into the party,” Thor says.

“Buck, come on. You don’t even have to see her. Just call her and ask her to get us on the list.”

Bucky walks into the bathroom just to get away from Steve but the latter follows him in.

“There’s someone in here,” you say when you hear them entering the bathroom.

“We're leaving in ten minutes, did you shave your legs?” Steve asks.

“I will now.”

“Front and backs?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.” Steve looks at Bucky. “Just call Sharon. You call her all the time when you're drunk.”

“No, I don’t. Shut up.”

You shave your legs and finish with the rest of your shower. Luckily, the boys have taken their conversation outside of the bathroom. You wonder what the deal is with Bucky and Sharon. How did things end? Based on his refusal to call her, you assume it ended badly. Will you be like this with Jack?

Like Steve said, you all leave ten minutes later to the bar Bucky works at. Bars aren’t usually your scene but you really want this to be a fresh start. You haven’t flirted with or been on a date with someone in six years. Everything was reserved for Jack. You’re not even sure if you have it in you to find a rebound. If you can’t be sexy well, how can you expect to capture a stranger’s attention?

All it takes is one bad experience to ruin potential future ones. Bucky, Steve, and Thor watch you try to flirt with men but each one fails. You’re either too weird, too loud, sing too much, or too awkward. After about six tries, you sit at the bar with a defeated look. Bucky walks over to you and slides you a pink wine, your poison of choice.

“Well, I guess I can't hide my crazy,” you sigh.

“I don't think you're trying that hard.”

“I've never been great at this stuff, so…” You look up and muster a smile. “Looks at us, a couple of losers. We both got dumped, jeesh.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “It was six months ago.”

“Do you know why she dumped you? I mean she must've hurt you pretty bad.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he sighs.

“Aren’t you always wondering, like, what it was? Like, was there something you could have done differently?” He shales his head wordlessly. “Do you know what happens to people who keep it all inside? They get old and they get sad and they get weird and then you're the old man yelling at the kids who are running across your yard and you're telling them, 'Don't run across my yard. My life's full of regret'. You can't just pretend like it didn't happen.”

“Or I could pretend to be more like you, Y/N, and live on a sparkly rainbow and drive a unicorn around and just sing all the time.”

“Yeah, I think you should sing all the time,” you giggle.

“No, I was being mean, I'm not gonna do that, Y/N.”

“Why not? It’s fun!”

“Because I have a dick, Y/N.”

“I’ll get you to sing one of these days,” you chuckle.

One of Steve’s friends comes up to the bar and smiles flirtatiously at you, and Bucky backs up to give you some space. He watches you smile at the man, and he looks down in thought. If you can try and move on, he can, too. He takes out his phone and dials Sharon’s number before walking away to take the call.

“So, I was going to go to the party this Saturday, but I’d rather take you out if you’re interested,” he says.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile.

“Great. Maybe we can go to dinner first.”

“Sure. Let me put my number in your phone.” The man hands over his phone, you put your number in, and you call yourself so you have his number. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he smirks and winks. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you smile.

Looks like you scored a date and you weren't weird at all. The high of getting a date wears off an hour before you have to leave for it. You’re stuck in your room, wondering what to wear. What would be sexy enough? Should you be sexy? Cute? Casual?

God, what am I doing?

Natasha comes over to help as soon as you text her, and all three of your roommates are shocked into silence, more so Steve than the others. She’s beautiful and has guys hanging off her arm. She’s well known, her picture is on billboards across the city. She’s not shy about her appearance, and this is one of those times. Thor and Bucky look at each other when they notice Steve staring with a smile on his face.

“Natasha. Do you go by Nat?”

“Only to my friends.”

“Cool,” he nods. “I’m Steve.”

“Y/N, do you need my help?” she calls out.

There is a thump followed by a yelp. “I’m okay.” She gets up and walks to your bedroom to see you lying on the ground like a starfish. “I tripped on my heels.”

“Okay, sit up.”

You sigh and do as you’re told. “What am I doing? I can't go on a date. What if it's horrible? What if I have nothing to talk about?”

“Then you go to the bathroom, you call me, and you tell me all about it.”

“Maybe I just shouldn't go.”

“Babe, you got hurt. That doesn't mean you stop trying. Okay?”

She has a point. Some might think it’s quick how fast you’re trying to move on, but you can’t slow down. If you do, you fear that you’ll never stop crying. With Natasha’s help, you dress in a short black dress that’s classy but still covers everything. You two walk out, and all three men look at you in surprise. Bucky leans his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together. Thor and Steve smirk at each other, already in tune with what Bucky is thinking.

“Wow. You look amazing,” Bucky says.

“Thank you,” you blush. “I’m kind of nervous but also kind of excited. I’m going to text him and tell him I’m heading over.”

“Wait, have you been texting him?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah, is that bad?”

“No.” He smiles slightly. “It’s nice. Have a good night.”

“This is going to be great,” you grin.

Natasha drives you to the restaurant, and you grab a table since Peter isn’t here yet. You’re a bit early, anyway, so you don’t mind the wait.

Sharon is able to get all three men on the list at the party since she knows the owner. Thor, Bucky, and Steve arrive at the party which has a bunch of people outside waiting to get in. They’re in line when Bucky notices a few of Steve’s friends, including Peter. They spot Steve and head over immediately.

Bucky frowns when he doesn’t see you.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Oh, dude, she texted me like seven times. Like long ones. I just wanna hook up.”

“So, is she waiting for you to show up or did you call her?”

“Yeah, that's what I did, I called her,” he laughs.

Peter and his friend head inside but Bucky stays where he is. Thor is about to go in when he notices his friends not following him.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t go inside, man.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky shakes his head, turns, and jogs away from the party with Steve. Thor’s been looking forward to this party, but he understands that you need them more. He sighs and runs to catch up with his friends.

After thirty minutes of not showing, you know Peter won’t be here. You’re the only table in the restaurant without food except for the free bread they give out. You sigh sadly and look down at your lap, picking apart the bread. You look up when you hear footsteps head your way. Oh, it’s only a waitress.

“Do you have anything else that is free, but also has bread in it because the good bread I ate and uh, all that's left is a… it's like a… it's kind of like a health bread?”

“I'm sorry. We're gonna have to ask you to give up the table.”

“Um, can I please just stay, just a little bit longer?” you ask in a small voice.

“We’re here!” You look behind her to see Thor, Bucky, and Steve enter the restaurant. “Yup, we’re here, Y/N!”

Seeing them is ten times better than seeing Peter.

“We're here for the date thing,” Steve says.

“You're all here for the date?” the waitress asks, shocked.

“Yeah, we are. We're her boyfriends. We are reversed Mormons. One man just isn't enough for her,” Bucky says.

“Okay,” the waitress sighs and walks away.

Now that she’s gone, you look down in sadness. The reality of being stood up weighs heavily on your shoulders.

“Hey, Y/n, that guy was a jerk. You don’t deserve him.”

“You guys missed your party to come here to see me?” you ask and look into his eyes.

“Yeah, we care about you. We like you.”

“That’s so nice,” you sniffle with a smile.

You’ve only met these guys, but you know that moving in with them is one of the best things you could have done for yourself.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu #marvel fan fic #marvel fluff #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

375 notes · View notes

mockerycrow · 15 days ago

Text

REWRITTEN: Undercover I (Soap x GN!Reader)

undercover masterlist | next (original)

summary; you’re apart of an undercover joint task force between the CIA and MI6, meant to infiltrate Makarov’s ranks. Your mission is thrown out the window when Makarov finds you out, and the 141 takes you in for interrogation after finding you half dead.

A/N: THIS IS REWRITTEN! I’m rewriting it all, major plot points aren’t really changing but I kept rereading my work and I hated it. please enjoy new and improved undercover. 3k words.

[warnings; gore, description of injuries, descriptions of torture, near death experience(s), waterboarding, medical and military inaccuracies. watch out for pov switches.]

Everything fell apart due to the intense lack of communication; something anyone could’ve seen coming from a thousand miles away. Information staying classified, secret—it was a death sentence the second more eyes landed on Him. Maybe the death sentence was written into existence the moment I breathed in the air in that conference room where my teammates sat. We’re the guys they call for the dirtiest work they need to get done; it isn’t something I’m proud of, of course.. Not when your death has been faked numerous times, stitching together new stories and burying your old ones. To an extent, I wish it wasn’t like this, living in a world where this type of work is necessary, but humans are inherently violent and animalistic.

Someone would’ve started this cycle eventually.

You curate a mask to wear so perfect you find yourself believing your own lie. The shit you make up sticks with you, too. The stuff you end up doing as a result never leaves, either. Imagine making up an entirely new life and living it for years only for a tiny slip up to break the new reality you’ve been living. Having to break genuine bonds, having to disappear on people you knew you were using, but sometimes cared about? It hurts more than I like to acknowledge. You get used to the guilt in your gut and the blood coating your hands, the red puddling at your feet. Sometimes, you can’t tell whose it is. Yours? Theirs? The innocent kid who got too involved? It all feels the same at the end of the day.

Most people lose themselves in their lies like I said, but not me. I know exactly who I am.

One one hand, I’m Zhenya Antonenko; one of Makarov’s most trusted right hands. Zhenya, a big brother with an unstable past and a bloody trail following me.

On the other hand, I’m myself. Just me, myself, and I.

I only have myself, except for my Captain, the only person I’ve properly trusted for a couple of years now; can you blame me when you’ve lost so many people to the mission? Whether from discovery leading to death, or legitimately believing the lies you’ve been spewing to yourself? Nobody understands having to gun a person down you started out with just to keep yourself safe; keeping the operation safe.. Because the mission comes first.

“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful who we pretend to be.”

“..status?” “...alive…..”

Searing pain—deep aching pain. Rough, calloused, careless hands—

“...one of his—...” Fuck. That accent; it’s not Russian. Not Slavic at all in general.

It’s Scottish. What the fuck? Did I fuck up?

You’re in terrible shape; critical condition. Soap wishes he didn’t have to untie you and tend to your wounds; you’re one of his. You deserve the slow, painful death your injuries would bring onto you.

His gloved fingers wedge themselves into the knots of the rope tied around your wrists. It’s a little slippery; the rope is stained with your blood, either from your wrists due to struggling or any of your pre-existing injuries. You’re alive, barely—but they have to act fast if they wanna keep you alive. Your skin is visibly.. Off; lacking its usual color, maybe. You’re shivering in the chair, your clothes soaked in freezing water, mixing with the blood already embedded into the fabric. Price is untying the ropes around your ankles.

“Alright,” Price gruffs out, his voice low and rough. “Grab ‘em. Off to the truck.”

Soap hooks his arms under your armpits as Price grabs your limp legs, both men grunting quietly as they lift you. They shuffle together in tandem, working their way to the truck in the back of the warehouse. The truck is running as Gaz opens the backdoor for Soap and Price to shove you in there. Soap steps up onto the truck and sits in the backseat, dragging your body inside with him. He takes the opportunity to assess your wounds in a surface level manner first. Soap almost grimaces—almost.

Your lips are parted ever so slightly, the skin chapped and a light layer of dried blood on them, dried so much that it would flake off if you tried to rub them together. The blood is likely from you biting your tongue, or the fact that your top lip on the right side is split open so badly you need stitches, or perhaps from the fact that your nose is broken. The structure of your nose is noticeably out of place and there is blood trailing down your lips and chin, thick and dried droplets down the front of your already ruined shirt. The left side of your jaw, near the hinge—swollen and out of place. Torn, maybe? Broken? Fractured? All possibilities. Your left eye is swollen shut, your left eyebrow split open, too. Like you got your face smashed, but they somehow managed to mostly hit your left side over and over.

“Wonder what the bastard had to do to earn all that.” Soap mutters, his voice low with a slight bite to his tone. He leaves you untied; if you woke up, he’s sure you’d immediately slip into shock. You’re not a threat, not in the state you’re in. Soap watches you struggle to breathe; labored and uneven. It almost is similar to agonal breathing, something the body does in a desperate attempt for a proper source of oxygen. Maybe some of your ribs are broken. His eye’s trail your abdomen—the red seems to spread, dribbling onto the seats below your body, slicking his skin. Soap tugs up your shirt, and he swears under his breath from the gaping wounds in your belly, his hands reaching down to apply pressure.

Price is about to comment, catching sight of the stab wounds when Ghost exits the warehouse with a couple of documents—a laptop, a thumb drive. All items that were left behind. “Seems like they didn’t see us comin’.” Ghost utters, his voice rough as he stuffs the items into a backpack left in the bed of the truck. “Makarov was here.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed; your struggle to breathe breaking the silence. You gasp, almost like a gurgle, reminding them of their finds; documents, technology, and you.

…Am I dead?

Is this Hell? Did Makarov finally end me? ..It’s funny, really. I thought I would’ve died from—

Oh, welcome back.

I feel heavy as I suddenly come to, like I’ve been drugged. My tongue is dry and heavy in my mouth and it almost feels too big. Tastes like metal.. Blood. I barely manage to lick my lips which I immediately regret, my cotton like tongue swiping over the split in my lip, lighting up my nerves—however, I don’t have the energy to properly react to the tingling pain. My head feels… full, like there’s pressure. My thoughts are.. Fuzzy, almost. As if there’s something in my skull, blocking them. My ears are ringing, and fuck, it feels like someone is bashing the inside of my head with a metal baseball bat. Ironic.

I feel so incredibly heavy, my limbs comparable to anvils. The fucking pain crawls up my back and into my nerves as I wriggle my fingers, fuck, fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck fu—

“They’re awake.” Utters a gritty, low voice, borderline baritone; British. I manage to open my right eye as my left.. Is seemingly swollen shut, but I regret it from the corneal pain as I close my eye again, the luminescent light above us burning deep into my eye.

A gloved hand roughly grabs my jaw, which fucking hurts. Something is seriously wrong with my jaw, the ache is fucking terrible feels bone deep. I look up, a looming figure over me. My eye refuses to focus for a moment, but I can tell the guy is wearing a mask, a vest—a rifle. I blink languidly and—oh. In front of me, stands a large man; broad shoulders, stocky. A wide chest, and a pair of eyes that make me wanna curl in on myself. He’s staring down at me as if I’m Makarov himself. Big and brown, empty…

I can tell that he is not a man Makarov has worked with before. Who is he?

I shakily inhale and I shut my eye as his fingers dig into my jaw, causing me more pain and nausea bubbling up from it. Fuck.

“Zhenya Antonenko.” His voice is full of venom, deep and gritty. He’s mocking me—he’s British. I hiss softly as he finally lets go of my jaw, and he holds up my I.D., my fake I.D.. I look at the man in front of me, who is wearing some sort of skull balaclava mask thing. I wanna stay in character, spit or curse or something, but the pain in my mouth is enough to keep me silent as well as the exhaustion. My head tilts forward, my neck incredibly sore and aching. His fingers push under my chin, bringing my head back up. “You’ve worked for Makarov for years, yeah? Makes me wonder what you did to make the man leave you behind.. Bloody and beaten, no doubt.”

I don’t respond—of course I don’t, there’s no reason for me to. I gotta keep up my mask, y’know? It fucking sucks, having to keep the act up, but I don’t know what could happen to the operation if I let it slip. Ugh.. maybe I fucked it all up anyway, considering Makarov found me out. The guy in front of me looks like he wants to tear me apart, limb from limb. Huh. I survived Makarov’s torture.. I’m sure I can survive his.

I want to throw up, despite not having anything in my stomach. My head is reeling and fuck, I just.. I’m aching so badly. Every sensation is blending together.

My head whips to the side with a blooming, stinging sensation against my cheek—He slapped me. “Pay attention.” The man hisses—Skull-face, I deem him in the moment. I blink and I turn my head to face Skull-face as he walks over to a tray nearby, his boots heavy against the ground. The door behind him opens, my eyes flickering over to it and three more men walk in. Shit.

The first man I see is young, tall; he has dark skin and even darker eyes; brown, I think. There’s a small atrophic scar under his eye. His shoulders are wide but nearly as bulky as Skull-face’s; he’s definitely well built. I watch him cross his arms across his chest. My gaze flickers to the next man that catches my eye—he’s also tall and built, maybe a bit beefy. He’s pale with brunette hair and… mutton chops? Odd choice.. But alright.. Mutton-chops is leaning against the wall of whatever this room is. His eyes are trained on me like a cat who is hunting. It makes me shudder a little bit. The last guy I see; a bit shorter than the others, but he isn’t lacking any muscle. Thick forearms, for sure. He’s pale, brown hair and blue eyes, mohawk. Pfft, mohawk.. Who has a mohawk these days?

I flinch as Skull-face pats my jaw to get me to pay attention, making me hiss as he purposely chooses the bad side. God, it has to be swollen by this point.

I can barely think.. Jesus.

“I’m only repeatin’ myself once, y’hear? You’ll know what Hell truly feels like, you only got a taste with Makarov.” Skull-face threatens. I swallow harshly; I can’t afford another beating, or whatever this fucker has planned in case I don’t follow the rules. I already feel so light headed and dizzy. Hesitantly. I nod as a response instead of using words. “Why don’t y’tell us what Makarov was doin’ in that warehouse, hm?” He utters, glancing over to a tray and picking up a few papers—the text that I can make out, they look vaguely familiar. Must’ve been documents they grabbed from the warehouse. I wheeze a little, wincing, my chest spasming. Fuck.

He waits for a response. I swallow again, my eye fluttering as I utter out, “I took an oath.” Weakly. I feel a bead of sweat drop down from my temple, down the side of my face. I’m sweating from pain, that deep ache in my ribs, in my jaw—everywhere, honestly. I don’t know what doesn’t hurt by this point. “An oath.” Skull-face murmurs, almost as if he’s amused but I hear no humor in his tone. He walks closer towards me as he sifts through the documents in his gloved hands. “An oath for a terrorist.”

I see the way his eye twitches when he looks at me; to be fair, all I can see is his eyes but folks say the eyes are the road to the soul, right? And what his eyes are telling me right now is that he’s holding himself back from wrecking my shit further. I glance away for a moment, but he shoves the documents in front of my face, all typed up in Russian. “Y’know what this is?”

My eyes scan the paper, recognizing it—”It’s Makarov’s plans, his plans on how he will slaughter entire cities with the biological weapons he’s trying to get his bloody hands on.” Skull-face gruffs out. His throat is tight, I can tell he’s furious.

I know what the plan is—I’ve read those exact papers several times myself. I’m more shocked by the fact that they know that he was searching to get his hands on weapons like that in the first place. My head buzzes as I shift my eyes to Skull-face, who is staring at me as if he’s expecting an answer out of me.

I swear to God my vision whites out when he lifts my fucking shirt and opens the shitty stitches across my stomach—

Hot liquid spills from my belly and immediately soaks the spandex of the waist band to my pants, choking and wheezy noises leave my throat as I reel from the fucking pain. God, the pain.. My eyesight blurs back into colors, but no focus yet. I gasp quietly, trying to get a hold on my pain. However, Skull-face doesn’t give me a chance as he viciously grabs my jaw again, squeezing so harshly my lips part and my jaw feels like it’s being ripped out of its hinges. “My deal is simple. Fill in the obviously missin’ gaps, an’ we’ll let the medics work on ya.”

I try to get a steady breathing pace again, breathing through the pain. I close my eye, my throat bobbing as I swallow. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Someone grunts and walks towards me—more like stomps towards me, so I naturally open my unswollen eye only to see Mohawk seething in front of me. “Y’dont seem to understand the situation yer in. Do you understand that you fell for a trap?”

Mohawk grabs the front of my soaked shirt—tears, blood, water and whatever else—as he barks in front of my face. I struggle to focus on his face—rugged and young, sporting some light stubble with an atrophic scar across his chin. His jaw is strong and so is his nose. His eyes—blue and fierce.

He wants to kill me. I can tell. I don’t blame him.

I wince as he tugs on the front of my shirt, peeling it from the open wound on my stomach. I feel sick. “Makarov does not care for you!” Tell me something I don’t know..

I’ve known that since the beginning. He doesn’t care for anyone, not really. We were always just pawns to him. Everyone is.

I must’ve spaced out again because I snap back to reality when something squeaky is rolled into the room. I lift my head—oh fuck. Mutton-chops has a big bowl of water on a cart, wheeling it closer. “I told ya, I wouldn’t repeat myself.” Skull-face gruffs out and my heart drops to my fucking stomach, my eyes widening. Someone must’ve noticed the change in me because I hear someone laugh. My leg kicks out instinctively when the cart is rolled closer—That one guy, the basic dude, scar on his cheek, his hands shoot out and hold down my leg.

I barely get enough time to react before a hand is grabbing a chunk of my hair and forcing my face into the water. I struggle against my binds, against the hands on me, against the fucking bowl of water that’s against my face. I fight and fight, my wrists screaming for relief as I give myself rope burn because I’m fucking drowning, I’m fucking drowning, I’m gonna die and it’s all going to be for nothing—

My head is ripped out of water, making me gasp and choke, spitting out water that I inhaled. The dread from the feeling of drowning remains as I sputter and wheeze, the water running down my face and neck, soaking the neckline of my already damp shirt.

Fuck, I’m gonna die. I’m gonna fucking die.

I keep gasping for air, trying to level out my breathing. I feel exhausted, all of the fight in my soul having already left my body. My limbs feel heavy, like there’s weights tied to them like before. My vision is blurry as I lift my head, looking at the three men in front of me. I have to bite back an angry laugh because I know they’re just going to stand there and watch me die. Maybe they’ll resuscitate me like Makarov did—just to remind me how much power they have over me right now.

Makarov.. He held me under the ice cold water until I passed out. I don’t know what happened after that, I don’t know how long he left me like that or if he left me like that at all. All I remember is being on my back on the cold concrete below me, my hands remaining tied behind my back as I sputtered water out of my throat and nearly inhaling it back in.

He did it more than once to me. I don’t know how many times. Maybe it’s the brain damage making me forget.

Fuck. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know.

My head falls forward as my vision is filled with black dots, and then—I’m out, water dripping off of my chin and face, my pants wet with my blood from my stomach.

🏷️; @hardnutpost @glitterypirateduck @elowynnlane @boycigs @wolfyland07 @escapefromrealitysm @tapioca-marzipan @cj-theyoungling @fullmoon-94 @gothgirl6-6-6 @thriving-n-jiving @paniniii @calloumii @the-spartan-himself @bi-witch-bxtch @dammn-dean @jinxxangel13 @meimhem @hannathetrololol-blog @kool-aidd @aliendous @roarndoodles @supernaturalstilinski @blob-11 @cumbermovels @jisungfanpage @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @p3achfairy @darling006 @nyushkawritesstuff @pepsicolacoochie

no longer wish to be tagged? let me know.

154 notes · View notes

earlycuntsets · 2 months ago

Text

“I CONSIDERED MYSELF TO BE MORE OF A GIRL”

A CONVERSATION WITH GERARD WAY from theboyzine.com 1/18/2015

"Gerard way is the renaissance-type singer songwriter // Goth prince frontman // comic book artist // proud father best known for both his solo music and his band My Chemical Romance. We got a chance to ask him a few questions in early January. Enjoy!

What is your favorite animal?

I would have to say an ape; for a long time I didn’t take the time to know the difference between primates, but my wife and I have been really into animals—apes are just very gentle creatures.

As an emotional professional, how do you feel when people tell you to man up?

You know, growing up as a boy you are always told not to show your emotions, that it is a sign of weakness. I have been lucky enough to lead a life where I can celebrate how I really feel—but there is still negative attention towards it and it is still considered weakness.

Is there a point, then, where one does need to (for lack of a better word) man up?

You know I really don’t like that phrase. “man up”, because it implies that emotional strength in rough times is a masculine trait, when in reality some of the strongest people I know are women. But yes, there are a lot of times when you should control your emotions– times of crisis and need where you really can’t let them get involved. I have learned to pull my emotions out of a lot of big decisions.

You often make it a point to spread the message of gender equality in your shows. Could you describe that a little bit?

It is something I have been lucky enough to be educated about. I generally try to pay attention to it, make sure I get my facts from the best sources and whatnot, and I really relate to it. I never really subscribed to the archetype masculinity growing up, I had no interest in sports or anything like that. There was a time where I was called a girl so often that when I discovered the idea of transgenderism I considered myself to be more of a girl. So I identify with trans people and women a lot because I was a girl to a lot of people growing up. When I was doing MCR I think I finally got to display my femininity through the glam theatrical aspects of the band. It made me feel more hopeful, that I was allowed to be flamboyant. I want to make sure women and men and everyone in between feel safe and empowered.

Was there a person or thing that first sparked your interest in feminism?

When I was around 16 I became friends with these really cool girls, and that’s how I got exposed to Bikini Kill, Helium, Bratmobile—that was the real punk. All the other hardcore scenes at the time were a little bit hypermasculine and violent, which was totally unappealing to me. But here are these bands—Bikini Kill, et cetera that were actually talking about important things. That was real punk. Great bands.

What sort of advice can you offer to all of us boyz reading?

You have to surround yourself with ‘the others’. Whether they’re the creatives that you know or whatever it is. Because you guys will feed each other, that’s the nature of people. Find companions who will push you in the field you are in.

Do you hang onto traces of boyishness? Comics and digging up worms?

Well first off I don’t consider those things boyish. I am really happy that things like comics have become less marketed specifically toward boys—did you know that 50 percent of comic book readers are girls now? There is a really great picture I saw one time of a little girl with all the spiderman toys in a toy store clearly angry that they were in the ‘boys’ section. We need to let kids have more freedom of choice in who they want to be.

But answering your question, I have always been super into comic books. I didn’t really ever like sports, so I played dungeons and dragons a lot. That was a really important creative outlet for me. Of course I still love Star wars, and biking.

How do you find ways to stay positive?

Society is so interconnected these days, there is so much noise. It is really important I think to turn the noise down, to find ways to do so. Whether you’re in a creative field or not, you need to find a way to follow what is in your gut because that noise that is so obstructive is creeping. Think about the art you make, the people you love.

My routine is really simple but important to me. I wake up every morning and my wife and I get our daughter ready for school and I drive her there. And that’s when work begins for me. I am lucky that one day I can be recording a new song and the next I am putting all of my energy into a comic.

Do you consider your marriage to be a partnership?

I am very glad you asked. I consider my whole family dynamic a three way partnership actually. My wife and I have been partners since day one, and now our daughter is the newest addition to the mix. Of course we have different duties to each other—my wife and my job is to educate my daughter and make her feel great and teach her how to work hard, to let her choose what she loves. That’s very important to us. It is great coming home from the road because Lindsay (my wife) and I get to work together more.

Thank you so much for doing this interview, is there anything we haven’t touched that you want to say?

Don’t chase your dreams, let your dreams chase you

#sry no picture #but shares about his gender and it's sweet <333 #my chemical romance #mcr #gerard way #2015 #hesitant alien era #interviews #the boy zine #theboyzine.com #gay pride

193 notes · View notes

blushydiorrb · 10 months ago

Text

BY blushydior

HOW I CHANGED MY LIFE WITH THE LAW OF ASSUMPTION

note: post inspired by @cinefairy (´͈ ᵕ `͈) ♡°◌̊ + brief mentions of sensitive topics

♡┊ my life before:

i dealt with immense abuse and toxicity. the whole works. i was in foster care, constantly traveling to different countries. i’ve been depressed and suicidal, failed attempt after attempt since i was 7. traveled city to city during hs to sleep, had to look for shelter at 19 because the abuse got too much, having to take care of children all my life & never having time to live for myself — it was for as long as i could remember to the point where feeling numb, empty, sad & hopeless was the normal to me. i was confident in myself, ill give myself that; only because ever since i was little i dreamt big. but that kept being pushed away the more i dealt with my circumstances. but i just knew— something inside me was telling me that i was special. after finding out loa, slump after slump, i did it. i never gave up. and im proud that i never did.

even after i renewed this blog, i had still been dealing with depression and was hospitalized for it but i. did. it. im here living my dream life and you can be too.

♡┊ my life now:

i have: financial freedom, my desired appearance from head to toe, buying the most luxurious houses in my desired states/cities, revised my name, semi socialite, model, elevated my interests into talents such as painting, drawing, singing, dancing, film, edit, writing, photography, i now own multiple businesses, a soon to be author, amazing intelligence, fluent in multiple languages, martial arts, desired friends, always being safe, friends with a few of my fave celebs, spoiling my nieces & nephews, and a dream bf literally as all of my favorite book boyfriends combined. he’s perfect. + so much more.

i still can’t process this sometimes but i seriously made myself the dream girl my younger self always knew was in me.

♡┊ how i did it:

simplified the law. made my own rules. decided what my new story was. left the old one to die out and most importantly: took it easy on myself. i was doing my best to live my dream life because i knew it was possible. so why be so hard on myself?

it took some time at first considering my circumstances but thats why we persist, my love. affirming and persisting. never giving up. kept the faith. that’s it. it didn’t take longer than a month!

💌 ┊ my note to everyone:

you can do it. it’s possible. and you deserve to live your dream life. it’s okay to have doubts, it’s okay to question yourself, the law, etc. what’s important is that you GET UP, be gentle and kind to yourself. i stg you better be nice to urself… 😤👹 and persist.

i love you, i love you, i love you. blushydior loves you!!!! so much. and is giving the warmest and tightest hugs to everyone who is reading thus far. it was a heavy topic considering how much of a private person i am but i had to make it. thank you for reading. it means so much to me. - 🧸

special thank you, hugs & kisses to @cinefairy @heraisgod — ♡ the most inspiring people ever. you were the ones who kept reminding me to keep pushing and to be strong. i owe you everything.

- blushydior ♡

#blushydior #loa

408 notes · View notes

pastel0rchid · 9 months ago

Text

A Gift from the Gods (6)

Hiccup x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: None

A/N: I finally did it! I apologize so much for getting this out so late. It's not the longest chapter, but I am actually really proud of how this came out, and I hope you enjoy it as well. Until next time, my friends <3

Previous Chapter .~.~. Next Chapter

The flight back to Dragon’s Edge was quiet between Hiccup and you after he situated himself back onto Toothless’ saddle. The silence wasn’t unbearable. It didn’t cause your stomach to twist in uncomfortable knots as you tried to find the words to fill it.

No, this silence was comfortable.

Your mind was allowed to wander as your wings flap to keep you upright beside Toothless. The burn at the base of your wings was barely noticeable between thoughts about how Hiccup had looked at you.

The way his green eyes remained locked on your own when the two of you glided, combined with the bright smile etched across his lips, had your stomach fluttering.

It reminded you of the way your father always looked at your mother. The abstract wonder in his eyes every time she took flight or when she hummed to herself while cleaning. You remember having childlike hope in finding a love like theirs.

You shake your head at the thought. You had only known Hiccup for a short while, and it was definitely not enough time to find yourself gaining feelings for him. Right?

But how his green eyes reflected the sun would be a memory you would cherish for quite some time.

Landing on a cliff edge, Toothless huffs as Hiccup slides off his back. The dragon stretches before walking toward where the other dragons are grouped in the distance.

You watch as Toothless interacts with the other dragons happily, going up to Stormfly while the two bob their heads at each other. A small smile makes its way to your lips as your eyes remain locked in the scene.

The soft sound of someone clearing their throat causes you to look over towards Hiccup, the smile still on your lips, but now there is a hint of confusion in your eyes. Hiccup stands beside you, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at you. Something was clearly on his mind, so much so that it was troubling him.

“I’m uh… I’m sorry about touching your wing earlier and scaring you. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His voice came out as nervous as he looked.

His confession caused the confusion to wash away from your eyes, your smile softening as you shook your head slightly.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t expecting it, so it was a bit of a shock,” You say gently before extending your right wing towards him, “You just need to ask so I can prepare myself.”

Hiccup’s eyes look towards the outstretched wing, taking a quiet second to think over your words before reaching a hand towards it, albeit hesitantly, “Is this okay?”

Your gaze was locked on his hand that barely touched your wing before you gave a silent nod to his question. You take a deep breath, emphasizing in your mind that you were the one who offered your wing to him.

You remind yourself that you aren’t in any danger. You’re safe. You’re not living in the forest on constant alert anymore.

His fingertips finally graze against your wing. The feeling is something you’re so unused to that your body flinches, causing Hiccup to pull his hand away quickly. His eyes filled with worry at how your body reacted to his featherlight touch.

“I’m sorry, are you-”

“I’m okay,” You interrupt him while releasing the breath you had been holding, “You can keep going.”

Green eyes observe you silently for a few seconds, his eyes locking with yours as if searching deep into your soul for the truth. You stare back into his eyes, the corner of your lips tugging into a reassuring smile as you push your wing back toward him.

He slowly reaches his hand toward your wing while keeping his eyes locked on yours. His fingers gently caress the top of your wing, and instead of your body flinching away from his touch, your body shivers.

Your eyes remain locked as his fingers take in every sensation of your wing. They glide over scales and the occasional small cut that littered across it from years in the forest. Silence fills the air between you.

You can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.

Your wing twitches slightly from his touches, but Hiccup does not move to pull away like last time. He keeps running his fingers over the top part of your wing, feeling to the edge before slowly going back toward the middle and continuing toward the base.

His touches cause your breath to deepen, your heart racing in your chest as you try to accustom yourself quickly to the unfamiliar sensation.

All the while, Hiccup keeps eye contact with you. It was as if he never wanted to miss a single reaction, no matter how small it may seem.

Just like when you were both gliding, the seconds feel like hours while the two of you stand on the edge of a cliff. His fingers move closer and closer to the base of your wings, his eyes silently questioning if this was still okay. You answer it by staying still.

Hiccup takes a small step closer to you, his arm reaching over your shoulder to where his fingers stay connected with the top of your wing as he almost reaches where your wings connect with your back. Your breath hitches at how close he is now.

You could make out every freckle, every blemish he had on his face. You could even see the light scar on his chin better now. You still wanted to ask how he got it. Now was not the time.

Everything was too much and not enough at the same time.

His lips part, ready to say anything to fill the silence between you, but he’s suddenly interrupted by the shouting of his name. His fingers quickly retract from your wing, his body stepping away from you as he looks to whoever called for him.

Your heart aches at the void of his touch and the cold that washes over you when he steps away.

Astrid was running towards where the both of you stood, the others trailing close behind her, as she carried a terrible terror in her arms. When the group arrives in front of you and Hiccup, you finally notice the paper in Astrid’s hand.

“It’s from your father!” Astrid pants out while handing Hiccup the letter, the terrible terror jumping out of Astrid’s arms and beginning to head over to you.

You pick up the small dragon while Hiccup reads the letter, gently scratching its chin before making eye contact with Astrid, who is staring you down. She wasn’t the only one. The others were as well.

You begin to feel your cheeks heat up in a flush. Your gaze slowly goes to the dragon in your arms, deciding to pay attention to how it purred and nuzzled against you.

Hiccup suddenly calls for Toothless, who is still over with the other dragons. You look back towards the brunette with silent confusion at the worry that fills his tone. The other riders follow his lead and call for their dragons.

Green eyes find yours as everyone mounts their dragons, unease shining in them as he looks down at you. You give him a slight tilt of your head, a silent question of concern. He holds his hand towards you, beckoning you. Moving the terrible terror to lay around your shoulders, you take Hiccup’s hand and allow him to pull you up to sit behind him.

Toothless adjusts his body slightly, not used to having a second person on his back.

“It’s going to be a long flight,” He says to you before looking over towards his friends, “Looks like we’re heading back to Berk.”

Taglist: @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @millie--billie @persipeoni @honethatty12

#reader insert #hiccup x reader #httyd fanfiction #httyd x reader

319 notes · View notes

penvisions · 23 days ago

Text

return the favor {chapter 26}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader

Summary: Your trios journey comes to an end, but what comes next?

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical violence, description of anxiety, symptoms of anxiety, tense situations, miscommunication, misunderstandings, two idiots in love, kissing, face cradling, gratuitous amounts of fluff, confessions, sappy feels, reunited with lost loved ones, i think that's it

A/N: and that's a wrap on this, y'all!! thank you so so so much for sticking with me on this one, it was my first foray back into writing fanfic and my first ever ppcu fanfic. this one will always be special to be and i am so proud of myself for sticking with it when times got tough, but then again- this truly helped me through a lot of them ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || nagivation || ko-fi

Everything almost seems alright with the world, with the decisions that had been made, with the bonds that had been forged and tested as the gates of Jackson loom in the distance. The people milling about within them, along the massive wall that is a symbol of protection and safety, the land within it ripe with opportunity for a second chance, even in the end of the world. You turn to Joel, who already has his gaze trained on you. Emotion swirling in his eyes, a small lift to the right side of his face that reveals a dimple you knew hid there amid his untamed scruff.

He closes the gap between you, hands reaching for you. His palm is rough on your face as he cups your cheek, but you don’t mind. He searches your eyes, jumping from one to the other and then to the girl standing a bit away and focused on the settlement down the ridge. She’s standing relaxed, her body no longer pulled taut and the weight of what happened no longer burdens her shoulders. She’s a little more reserved, but giggles and jokes can still be drawn out, hands held in moments of rest. Even if they are a bit subdued, it’s a good sign that she’s healing. That you were all healing.

“It’s the best option.” He repeats, the words spoken numerous times when discussing what to do once the skyline had opened up at the crest of the mountain.

“We don’t…we don’t tell anyone.” You speak lowly, not ashamed in the slightest of how things had turned out. You had warned her, but the woman hadn’t wanted to listen then tried to hold you hostage.

“You did what you had to. She had you locked up in a room, she wasn’t gonna to let you go. She wasn’t gonna let you come back to me or rest until Ellie was strapped to that operating table. I believe you, I know you.” His voice is strong, conviction calming you as you even as you feel like there’s something else he wants to say. All you can do is nod, worry easing as you glance over at Ellie as she stares down at the town in the valley. Memories play in your mind and you close your eyes as Joel leans forward to press his lips to your forehead.

Marlene had forced your hand by threatening the lives of those standing with you now. She had threatened your future, their future, the chance of reconnection with your own long-lost family and the one that was forged in the journey across the ravaged land that was the world. Marlene had brought her about her fate, reaching for too much and demanding compliance from someone who had too much to lose.

The explosion had surely taken out everyone she had gathered there, save for the surgeon and his daughter. Whose journals were secured in your bag and had been waiting in the office you had rushed to, his daughter clutched tight to his side as he eyed the calm way you had rushed in there to retrieve it.

He had helped you, seeing the mission clearly for the first time in years. His doubts and stipulations manifested in the questions you posed with such confidence, in the words you lent for him to see the truth in what was attempting to be done. You could only hope that they find peace now, somewhere safe to call home in the ruins of the world. Hell, maybe they’d show up at the very valley you were on the crest of one day.

“We don’t tell anyone.” Joel repeats the words, confirming and agreeing. Seeing the fear of being turned away for your actions. Though not remorseful, the morality of the situation is steeped in shadows. He’s sure Tommy would see it for what it is, but Maria may have a different view, the counsel may have a different view. But there are spaces for you both to fill, for Ellie to occupy. A life for all three of you within the walls, promised to you on your departure.

The gates are open as soon as your figures are spotted across the open field that allows for a good vantage point in front of them. Calls for Tommy, for your cousins, for Maria can all be faintly heard as you near them, cross through them, and they finally shut behind you with a sense of finality to the long journey started so long ago.

One that you had never anticipated beginning but were grateful for all the same.

Ellie is holding tight to your hand, so small in your own as you spy fast movement and tense up. It’s quite the commotion, those close by turning to watch the scene unfold as you and Joel receive quick once overs, you assure Maria and the others on the counsel that came to the front of the town that Ellie was clean as well.

She keeps her hold on you even as your cousins’ approach, breath fast with how they dropped what they were doing and ran to greet you. They both stop just a few feet away, not wanting to startle her or you by throwing themselves into embracing you. It’s still so new, this relationship- this bond that you had failed to set out in search of. Growing too comfortable in Boston and the imitation of life it had provided for years, decades. But Ellie drops your hand and nudges her head toward them with a small smile.

The young girl rushes you, long arms reaching around your neck while her brother embraces you both tightly from the side. Before you’re swathed in their hold, you see Ellie’s eyes fall to her feet, hands shoved into her jean pockets with hunched shoulders.

“We made sure to have a house big enough for you, we would love to help you get settled even if we’re pretty new here ourselves and you’ve been here before.” Adela speaks in a fast manner, excitement obvious as she leans back. It’s so different from the almost spiteful anger you had first seen from her, even more so from the desperate way she had asked you to not leave them after only one afternoon together. She’s holding herself tall, her height and slender limbs giving her an air of grace that she wears well. She truly does look beautiful, long dark tresses and fair skin decorated with freckles about her cheeks. Like her mother, who you hoped at least found peace in her passing.

Angelo is watching with a small smile on his face, glad that his little sister is feeling better- safer in this community when the last one had turned out to be so dangerous. Your heart flutters at the thought of a home, of going to sleep each day in the same bed, the same place. Of waking up in the same bed, same place….beside the same person and he was watching the whole scene.

You could feel the air tense, your cousins not knowing that they inadvertently stepped on one of the loose rocks that line the road you and Joel walk on together. But you hug her back, tightly holding her to you in another embrace. She deserves to have a good life, surrounded by people who love her, care about her, who can protect her. You’d try your damn best to give that to her, grateful that they had safely made the journey here so you could all get to be a family. “We can talk about it, okay?”

You wanted to talk with them both, to learn what they had been doing, how they had managed to make it this far- twenty years and counting after Outbreak day. Because not everyone did and you feel their loss every single day.

“We’ve got a good house for you two, nice porch out front and a converted garage in the backyard. If that is something that would be needed.” Maria speaks up, noticing the way Ellie isn’t holding anyone’s gaze and the slightly stilted air that’s cropped up at your cousin’s words. When your eyes find the man, he’s got a front on, but you can see the tension he’s holding in his body. You’ve traveled with him, laid with him, fought and protected him as he’s done for you. You know him- and he’s not happy.

“I think, for now, we all need to get a good meal in our bellies. It’s…it’s been canned food military food packs.” Joel speaks up, voice rough gravel, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, hands reaching for one of yours to tangle his fingers with for a brief moment. Your stomach flips as you realize everyone caught the action. Maria ducking her head to hide her knowing smirk and Tommy grinning like a god damn kid with a new toy.

“How’d ya manage to get those?” Tommy barks a laugh that sounds so much like Joel’s it both warms and breaks your heart. Their paths couldn’t have diverted more, but you’re happy they found each other. They can begin to heal the rift that you hadn’t realized ran so deep, Maria helping to shine a light on it when Joel was less than talkative.

“Well, it all started with some lab monkeys…” And your words are like magic, Joel and Ellie’s lips turning up at one side while your cousins eyes widen. Despite the…rather unfortunate reality of having to choose who to live with everyone you loved was here, they were safe- and that was all that mattered as you all made your way to the mess hall.

You reach for Ellie’s hand again, linking them and following the mish mash of people that make up your family, people from Joel’s world and people from yours. The perfect blend, the perfect start to a new beginning not only for you and him and them, but for the girl who didn’t have a family. You looked over at her and pressed a kiss to her temple when you saw how glassy her eyes were. She had been alone for so long, but she was surrounded by people now.

It’s late, the sun officially set and you’ve settled on the back porch with Maria, she’s heavily pregnant and off of patrol duties for the time being. Committing her time to helping organize and plan things for the town through the end of the spring season. She’s glowing and you feel self-conscious as she carefully shapes the mess that is your ragged hair. Most strands were long enough to still put up in a bun, but it was choppy and dull from the jarring cut you had made and the dirty blade you had used.

He's showered, steel hair slicked back and a thick robe pulled over a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and plain shirt. He looks good, if not a little nervous as he seems to glance up the street in the direction you would’ve come from his brother’s house.

But you had taken a longer route, walking past the stables and pet the horses that were milling in the walk about pen. Now though…you think it’s time.

As soon as your feet turn on the street, Joel’s head turns in your direction. The streetlight just across from it catches the shine of your own washed hair, the copper strands already looking so much better.

He’s standing, stepping to the stairs that lead up the porch as you approach. Lips pursed ever so slightly and giving away the anxiety you know must be thrumming just underneath his skin.

“Darlin’, been waiting up for you.”

“Sorry, Joel…was just taking a moment.”

“You know you don’t need to apologize for that.” His hands are clenching into fists and then unclenching in a slow motion at his sides, one of the traits he had picked up to stretch out his broken hand as it healed. Or so you had thought, it was a tick of his, you eventually realized. And you hate that he’s so consumed by emotion to be exhibiting it now.

“I…um…I wanted to talk to you actually.”

“Was wonderin’ if we could chat?”

You both speak at the same time, voices layering over each other.

“You’re gonna stay with them, aren’t you?” It’s not an accusation, not in the slightest. But it’s almost a resignation as his voice drops in volume. Not being able to stand the sadness you see in his features, you take the steps quickly and stand on the one below the deck of the porch and reach for his hands. They’re warm from the mug he had been holding. Scars littering them and the one from the first night of the journey that led here looks irritated, no doubt the humidity still fading from the air.

“They’re my family, Joel.” You take a deep breath, chest warm and cheeks tingling. “But you and Ellie are too. You all mean so much to me. If…if I were to stay here, I wouldn’t want to do it as friends.”

The quiet that falls is heavy, tension thick in the air.

And then he’s suddenly hauling you up onto the porch and into his arms, lips pressing to yours as he holds you tightly to him. Your stomach swoops, your heart rachets against the inside of your ribs and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you wrap your own arms around his neck. He’s passionate as he keeps pressing kiss after kiss to your lips, hands coming up to cradle the back of your head and the small of your back. He can feel the tremors of your muscles as you arch into him.

When you part to catch your breath, the words you’ve held onto tight surge up as you gaze into the beautiful brown of someone who you only caught sightings of once upon a time. There was no way to anticipate the turn of events that altered the entire trajectory of your life- leaving you standing here in front of him with endless praise and love.

But he beats you to it, his own lips pressing together as he takes a deep breath to center himself, hands holding you tight and eyes looking right back at you as you look up at him.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. You’ve been a tremendous help since we ran into you all those months ago, me and Ellie…I don’t know where we would be right now without you. I…Bean, I love you.”

Heat takes over your entire chest, blooming there as you feel happiness you never thought you’d feel again, life granting you another chance to experience something good.

“Well, guess I should return the favor then and tell you I love you too.”

He’s licking the words out of your mouth the second their out, striking arousal up your spine like a match being lit. He murmurs your name between devouring kisses, and between it all you feel like you’ve made it home. Like you can begin to create a safe life here with the man who Joel Miller blossomed into on the journey it took to get here.

previous chapter || end

taglist: @furiousmushroom @sawymredfox @ayamenimthiriel @bookloverkat

@rosaaeles @littlemisspascal @oscarissac2099 @ghostwritesthings

@76bookworm76 @elli3williams @sarap-77 @christinamadsen @vivian-pascal

@dugiioh @narcissa-anastasia @jessthebaker @missladym1981 @snugglingbucky

dividers and banners provided by the @/saradika-graphics and @/cafekitsune

76 notes · View notes

harrysgal · 8 months ago

Text

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (4)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

I am actually a little bit nervous about this part, so I hope you enjoy it.

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 3 — DENVER // MASTERLIST

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 4) — THE VIDEO

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by bestfriend, anthonypham, mollyjane_x and 59,302 others

yourinstagram im sorry its taken me so long to show up. i thought time would give me the ability to find some words to say, but as it turns out im much better at telling things through a camera than through a pen (or a keyboard, in this case). when i posted my first video on youtube, all i wanted was to find myself again after finally getting free from a relationship that drained the fun out of me. making movies is something that ive always been passionate about, so i thought — why not? three months later, when i posted my first video at a concert, all i wanted was to tell the story of a woman who, after raising two kids and giving everything she had to make everyone around her happy and safe, finally had the opportunity to make one of her most “innocent” dreams (seeing shania twain) come true. fast forward to this week, as i post my latest video all i want is to tell the story of a man who has the entire world in the palm of his hand and yet lives his life as if he’s merely another ordinary soul on earth. what happens now, and what you do with this story (or with any other ive already told), its not up to me anymore.

that all being said, thank you harry for trusting me with this story. it wasn’t mine to tell, but you allowed me to do it anyway and i’ll always be grateful for that. so, again, thank you.

ok i will stop typing now.

actually, im just gonna add that i hope you all enjoy this video as much as i do (but if you don’t, thats fair, and i’ll accept it just as much)

ok, now im done :)

view all 11,073 comments

lookitsnyoh 👑👑👑👑👑 harryfan9 this was so much more than we’ve asked for 🙏🙏🙏 user1 its been almost 24 hours since you posted this video and im still 😲!! YOU’RE INCREDIBLE user5 absolutely amazing! unexpected, captivating, touching… 10/10! yourbrother Kinda sucks that I don’t even feel like teasing you this time. I’m just proud.

↳ sisterinlaw Printed and framed already. ↳ yourinstagram … i dont even know what to say right now ↳ yourinstagram ＠sisterinlaw i’ll need a copy of that pls

harryfan your mind is so brilliant im so in love with this and i know i speak for the entire fandom when i say: THANK YOU 😭

↳ harryfan5 no really bc we’re so used to getting practically nothing that she coulve just done anything and we would’ve still died… and yet she gave us THIS? ↳ harryfan7 yn deserves the best in life period ↳ harryfan54 c’mon… it’s not THAT good

harrystyles 😲 so this was my story you were telling?

↳ yourinstagram i kept my side of the promise, didnt i? you were supposed to keep yours ↳ harrystyles fair enough. you’re welcome x ↳ yourinstagram 😌😌😌😌😌 ↳ yourinstagram thank you ↳ harrystyles you’re welcome x ↳ harryfan25 OMFGDSGFUAGFBH ↳ harryfan11 ＠yourinstagram ＠harrystyles sorry guys do you want us to leave you two alone? ↳ harryfan51 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ↳ harryfan17 wdym you kept your side of the promise??? what did you promise????? what is it?????

harryfan10 pls we need more harry content already user7 Don’t go missing again, we miss you here!

Sep 9, 2021 •

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by yourinstagram, bestfriend, jefezoff and 5,187,031 others

harrystyles I’m honored to say ＠yourinstagram has turned the beginning of this new chapter into a lovely short-movie, one you can watch right now on her youtube channel.

Thank you Yn for being so caring and respectful about everything and everyone involved in this project. To watch this idea turn into reality has been nothing but inspiring.

Welcome to the team, it’s too late to back out now. x

view all 203,557 comments

bestfriend this moment is all mine. 20+ years of friendship are FINALLY paying off.

↳ user3 you’re so unserious i love it fgajdujn ↳ yourinstagram im doing it just for you <3

harryfan5 noooooo I can’t do this my heart can’t take it pls stop 😭😭 harryfan23 I CANT BELIEVE YNS FIRSTS WORDS TO HIM WERE SHUT THE FUCK UP HAHAHAHAHA annetwist What a wonderful job you’ve done dear ＠yourinstagram 🥰

↳ yourinstagram ❤️ ↳ harryfan54 🙄

harryfan66 who are you and what have you done to the real harry? 🧐

↳ harryfan14 for real tho lmao ↳ harryfan74 yup. ive been saying it: another strategy just to get a random famous on harrys back. as usual.

harryfan9 NOT HARRY EXPOSING THE FIRST TIME THEY TALKED????

↳ harryfan3 and the fact that HE texted her first??? ↳ harryfan9 pls!!! molly gave me your nUmBeR 🤪🤪

harryfan15 oh you’re so sick for this AHDUAJHDJ yourinstagram THOSE messages? REALLY???

↳ harrystyles I’ve been explicitly forbidden to post a picture with you so I had to improvise. ↳ yourinstagram ok but did you also have to conveniently leave my next message out of it? ↳ harrystyles Yes x.

Sep 9, 2021 •

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

— — — — —

PART 5: FROM SAN ANTONIO

— — — — —

#harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles smau #harry styles social media au #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

259 notes · View notes

natsarrownecklacx · 29 days ago

Text

For When You Feel Alone

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count- 2,031

Summary- An ‘open when you feel alone’ letter written to you from your mom, Wanda.

Warnings- Talking about feeling alone, mentions of almost breaking a leg jumping out a window ( not in a serious way in a funny way ) very fluffy sappy writing. R is referred to as Elizabeth / Ellie in some parts :)

Ngl I think Wanda is the kind of mom we all want :/

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

Open When You Feel Alone <3

Dear Elizabeth,

Hey Sweetheart, it’s Mama.

I would like to start this letter off by asking how you are, but if you're reading this, then sadly I already know the answer.

My poor sweet girl, I am so sorry that you are feeling this way. It pains me to even think of you feeling so alone.

Before I get into this, before I go any further I need you to know something, I just need to say it, need you to hear it. I love you so, so very much.

Now, don’t be mad. I know when I asked if you’d like me to write you these letters for when you went off to college, you’d said not to. You told me that you would be okay, that you are a grown up now, that you are strong and independent and can take care of yourself.

I still remember the exact look on your face while you said those words. The pride and confidence behind them really shone through your eyes. I knew then that you were ready to leave home, I could see it in you. You were ready to take that leap and go out into the world, ready to find your place in it.

I know you, sweet girl, I’ve watched you grow up, from the sweetest baby into the most wonderful grown woman you are. I know how capable you are. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are now and I am so so proud of you, everyday in fact.

That being said, I am still your mother and you will always be my baby. So I hid this letter, along with a few others, in your suitcase before you left.

Which, might I add, was no easy task. The first time I tried to get a few of these letters safely in your suitcase I attempted to pull off an Avengers level stealth mission to try and sneak them in there while you weren’t at home.

I knew what I was doing, suggesting that you take Billy and Tommy out for ice cream. I knew it would give me the time I needed, not only to clean up after your two little brothers but also to get this where I knew it needed to be. What I did not, however, anticipate at all was you coming back so early.

Basically, to make a very long and embarrassing story short, when I heard the front door open and shut, I panicked for absolutely no reason. It was a level ten, metaphorical sirens blaring, palms sweating, hands shaking, type of panic.

Then I heard all three of you coming up the stairs and my cognitive thinking just seemed to evaporate…so I launched myself, head first, out your bedroom window.

Don’t worry, I did catch myself before I hit the floor on that two story drop, in fact I seemed to make it out of the ordeal with little more than a bruised ego. Although, I’m not quite sure if I’ll ever recover from having to explain to your aunt Agatha why I had to make that jump. She laughed so loud all the birds from the trees in the garden all flew away in a hurry. She just couldn’t understand why I panicked so much, honestly neither could I.

But if this helps at all, if I’m right and you find my ridiculous behaviour as funny as I do, in any way, then the almost broken leg and what I’m sure will be years of listening to Agatha tease me is well worth it. Plus, I just wanted you to have this in case you need it, in case you need me.

It was my hope for you, when you were born, that you would always feel how much I love you, no matter how far we are from one another or for how long. Even if we ever had an argument of some sort, you must know I would still love you.

If you're reading this right now then that means I was right to hide this for you, but don’t let that deter you from reading the rest of this letter, mothers (at least when it comes to me and your grandmother) are usually right.

I suppose it’s just this sense that we have, or maybe a hope, that our children will always need us in some way or another and that we will always be there for them.

I’m still here for you Ellie, no matter how far we are from one another, no matter how long we’ve been apart. It doesn’t matter to me what you need me for, something big or small, I don’t care what time it is, if you need me I’ll be there.

I know that if you're reading this, you probably don’t feel like you can pick up the phone and call me to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you and that's okay.

I wish I could reach out right now and take you into my arms. To hold you, close to my heart, to keep you safe and warm. I wish I could assure you that you are not alone, sweetheart. I will always be with you, as you are with me.

But you deserve to have some time to think things over in your own way, by yourself and then you can come to me when you are ready. But please do come to me Elizabeth. I absolutely hate the thought of you feeling alone, or worse, as if you can’t reach out to me.

I know that you will want to try to figure this out on your own first and that’s okay. Maybe you will, I have every faith in you. Even so, you can still talk to me about it, even when, whatever this is, is all over. I still want to know how you are doing, what’s going on in my child’s lift, the good and bad.

I know it is hard to be away from home, I remember vividly how it felt when I had to leave your grandparents and uncle behind to go away for college.

I know how hard it is to be in a new place, with new people, learning new things. It’s scary and it can be a little overwhelming. It can also feel a little isolating, even when you're surrounded by people. Even when the people you are surrounded by are meant to be your friends…

Before you left we had a conversation about your friends, do you remember that?

I remember how upset you were, how alone you felt from the way they were treating you.

Do you remember what I did when you came to me crying because of it?

I took you into my arms, the way I always do when you're upset, and I held you. You wrapped your arms around me so tightly and cried for what felt like hours.

It’s never easy for a mother to see their child so upset, but I was so relieved that you felt safe enough with me to let yourself feel that way, to just let it all out and know that I had you.

After you were done crying, you explained to me what was going on, you yelled a lot and cried some more. You were so angry and so, so tired, I could see it in your eyes Ellie. I could feel the hurt and loneliness pouring off of you in constant motion. I could see it.

I remember you pacing and pleading with no one and nothing in particular to understand why anyone would treat another person that way, least of all why your friends would do so to you.

I remember watching you go through all of that, I remember how you got more and more worked up, until, eventually, you stopped. Everything in the room stopped, it was as if something in your brain had clicked into place and suddenly, everything you were talking about didn’t seem so big anymore.

You just took one big deep breath in and when you let it go I could see in your eyes that you felt more at peace. The loneliness, frustration and fear for how long those feelings would last, they were all still there, weighing on your mind. All of it. But it wasn’t as heavy because you had shared it with me.

I remember how proud of you I was, because you needed something, you needed me to be there to listen and to make sure you could break down safely. You knew you needed help and you came to me. I was and still am so proud of you for that.

I just wanted to remind you of that, not to upset you further, but to remind you of how important it is to let someone in. To allow someone to help. Even if it means I just sit on the phone and listen to you talk or cry or scream. I can do that. I can be there for you in whatever way you need because I’m your mother and that’s my job.

Even if what you need is for me to get into the car and drive to you, I can do it. You need me to bring your childhood bear with me, just for that bit of extra comfort? I have it ready to go, just in case. You want some of your comfort food, mama cuddles and a movie? Make room for me Ellie because I am on the way.

There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for you sweetheart. I hope you know that. I need you to know that.

Right about now you're probably reading this thinking ‘oh wow moms so extra’ or ‘so cringe.’ ( At least that’s what the twins have been saying about me lately.) But what I’m saying is true, Ellie.

I know you well enough to know that, at this point, you are probably on the verge of tears but won’t let yourself cry.

You can cry if you need to, honey. It’s okay to let it out. I know you think you can’t because other people have gone through worse things, survived worse things and so you shouldn’t cry over something you deem as “small.” But there is no measure of pain. If you are upset, or tired, or overwhelmed, or if you simply just feel the need to cry. Let it out. It’s okay to cry.

It doesn’t make you any less capable. It doesn’t mean you are weak. It doesn’t mean you are looking for attention. It doesn’t undo any of the progress you’ve made. It doesn’t mean a single thing, it doesn’t have to.

Plus, it might make you feel better.

Honestly, Ellie I could go on forever and ever about how proud I am of you and how all I want in this world is for you to know how loved you are. How important and special you are. But I know that you don’t have all the time in the world to read as much as I could write about all of that.

So I just want to ask you to do something for me, just to put your mama’s mind at ease.

Please take care of yourself sweetheart. Drink some water. Get yourself something to eat, even if it’s just something small. If you're feeling up to it, go for a shower, I know you hate all the effort and time that goes into it but I also know that you always end up feeling just a little better after words. Put on some comfortable clothes. Try to get some sleep. Do whatever it is you need to do just to get yourself that little bit of comfort you need to make yourself feel better.

I trust you. I know you can handle this. I know you are so fully capable of taking care of yourself. Take things one step at a time, one breath at a time. You’ve got this Ellie.

I love you. Remember that always.

- Mama.

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

A/n - For the anon who commissioned this fic, I hope you like it love :)

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fluff #mom!wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda maximoff x reader fluff

70 notes · View notes

thetriplets3 · 11 months ago

Note

When you're about to cry and he does that "hey, hey" thing

please do this with chris

❝𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬❞

chris and i have been together for almost 4 months now having met at a small get together of a mutual friend, which when it comes to them a small get together turns into a party.

-flashback-

i had wandered off starting to feel overwhelmed from the constant talking around me. soon enough i found myself in a room that was turned into a makeshift music studio. the room felt inviting and safe for me to hid in for a while. any open space that wasn’t cover with furniture of some kind was filled with more plants than i could name. the warm soft light beckoned me to make myself comfortable, choosing a bean bag nestled in the corner for an extra sense of security. i curled into myself getting comfy figuring it’d be a while till my friend wanted to go home since i went with her. shutting my eyes i listened to the soft sound of the music playing from the other side of the house. the sound of the mini fridge closing startled me, snapping me back to reality.

“oh shit my bad i didn’t think anyone would be here sorry if i scare you. i was just grabbing a pepsi and was hang out here for a bit but i can go if you wanna be alone i mean you came up here for a reason”

“no no you’re good you can stay i just needed to get away from the crowd it was too much for me. so much for a small get together i should have expected this”

“i get that that’s why i came up here. want a drink? there’s pepsi, root beer, water or iced tea?”

“iced tea please”

he grabbed my drink and made himself comfortable on the adjacent bean bag and didn’t hesitate to ask if i was okay and if i needed anything having heard me mention the party was getting too much for me. i had just met him and he wanted to make sure i was okay, something about that just warmed my heart how concerned he was. we began talking about how we knew the host and the more we talked the more we realized how much we had in common. i’m usually wary of men joining me if i’m alone at a party, you can’t trust everyone most of the time they’re drunk or have some weird intention, but something about chris just made me feel automatically safe. before i knew it it was 4 hours later my friend came in the room outta breath complaining how she’d looked everywhere for me and that she’s ready to go home. not wanting to keep her waiting any longer but also not wanting to leave chris, i begrudgingly get up from my comfy spot.

“i’m sorry i’ve gotta go she’s my ride. thanks for keeping me company i really liked talking to you”

“me too. would i be able to get your number? i’d love to see you again if that’s not too forward”

-5 months later-

safe to say i gave him my number. when we first started dating we both opened up about being hesitant of relationships seeing as it’s my first one and he’d been hurt before, the whole idea of dating was unfamiliar to us but we worked through it and i think getting all of our worries and insecurities out really strengthen our relationship.

despite bring together for a few months he’s yet to see me cry which i know isn’t a big deal but that’s just who i am. i’m a sensitive person but i hold it in and break when i’m alone. i was always a very emotional empathetic child the slightest thing made me cry whether it be sad or happy tears. constantly being told “stop crying” or “you’re crying over that?” really got to me now i try and keep my emotions in.

sure chris has seen me get upset or worked up about something so silly. one time i was putting the dishes away and could hardly reach the mug shelf but nonetheless i tried putting a mug in a spot that looked like it’d fit and pushed it a little too hard knocking the mug i made for chris when i did a pottery class on a friends birthday. the mug was coming straight towards i tried catching it but couldn’t and it landed on the ground with a loud smash. tears instantly pricked my eyes seeing the cup i was so proud of smashed to pieces.

third person

chris was playing video games in the living room with his headset on, one ear slightly uncovered so he could listen to you softly sing to your music finding comfort in your voice and presence. a shattering sound followed by your silence had him ripping his headset off and running to the kitchen to see you with the saddest frown on your face and your breathing picking up. rushing over to you he kicks the remnants of the mug out of the way.

-your pov-

“what happened? are you okay? are you hurt? did you step on any pieces?” his voice filled with concern as his eyes dart across my face for any signs of hurt.

“your mug. i broke your mug” my voice so quiet it’s barely audible but the cracks in it indicating in close to tears.

“oh baby it’s okay it’s just a mug i can get another one as long as you’re okay i’m not concerned about the mug. are you okay?” he says lifting my chin drawing my attention to him instead of the tragedy on the floor.

“but it’s the mug i made you your favorite mug and i just smashed it to pieces i’m sorry i shouldn’t have tried reaching when i knew i couldn’t. i broke your mug” i spew out apologies as tears start escaping my eyes.

“hey hey no tears baby. look at me forget about the mug for a sec i care more about you right now, are you okay?” he says cupping my cheeks as his thumbs rub across my cheeks in a soothing manner, wiping away tears as they fell.

“yes i’m okay”

“good i’m glad” he says as he lifts me onto the counter away from the shards and stands between my legs. “i’m not upset about the mug baby. yes it was my favorite mug but only because i know you made it and i loved how excited you were that you made a mug on your first try making pottery. it melted my heart that you could have made anything and you immediately thought to make something for me. it was the thought and love that went into the mug that made me love it. things are replaceable no need to get upset i’m glad you didn’t get hurt. i appreciate you putting the dishes away you didn’t have to do that”

“you had a busy week i just wanted you to relax and not have to deal with the dishes but then i made a whole scene and- and i- your mug” my voice falters, eyes still watery.

“nope don’t wanna hear it pretty girl i’m not upset or mad don’t worry about it okay. i’ll clean it up. how about for our next date we do pottery huh how’s that sound? then i can make you something too i have ideas already”

“i love you thank you for being so gentle with me and my silly feelings”

“i’d never get upset or over something like this or anything really. it’s not silly for you to be upset over this i know you were proud of it you’re allowed to be sad. i love you and i think it’s beautiful that you have the capacity to feel things so deeply” he wraps his arms around body one arm holding my head to his chest as he plants kisses to my hair.

i love the way he loves me

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @strniolo @abbie13sworld @luvsturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

273 notes · View notes

carlyraejepsans · 9 months ago

Text

mind if i get sappy both negatively and positively for a sec?

if you've been following me for a while you'll remember just last year when i was still in highschool and i was so, so lonely and this blog was getting more popular than i meant for it to be. i was a wreck. i had straight up nightmares about hypothetical call outs and people taking my words out of context to turn people against me and that I'd lose the few people i genuinely thought of as friends. i used to go over my old posts deleting them and obsessively editing the wording when i felt it could be twisted to mean something else. even worrying that the fact they COULD have a double meaning meant i was secretly a horrible person in some sick freudian sense. not a good time to have moral OCD! or anon asks open, lmfao.

and i look at my past self now, after my biggest fear realized so many times it's now a monthly annoyance at worst and well. of course i did. i had no one else! that was the extent of my friendships at the time. the people i met and came to love online were the only place i felt truly safe to be myself around without having to fight for my right to be respected or putting on a persona.

but guess what? that's not the case anymore. I'm out of my parents' house, i have authority over my own decisions and presentation, i have friends at school (real friends! more than I've ever had simultaneously in my life!) that enjoy my company in person and include me in the things they do, fully respecting my chosen name and identity as a trans person. i have a queer community to share my burdens and my joys with, i am finally, finally getting started on HRT which is a dream I thought I'd never reach... and guess what. even my online friends didn't give a fuck. i was so paranoid about being alone again that i forgot to consider that they... also care about me, just like i care about them. that they're not gonna dump me out of nowhere because some random asshole decided i was their parasocial nemesis of the week, and if they had doubts or questions wbout something, we could discuss it in private and either agree or agree to disagree on friendly terms.

idk I'm just doing the best I've ever done in my life. this period of my life is perhaps the first time I've ever felt like a complete and whole person. it gets me a little tender hearted looking back and seeing how much I've grown since the time "something like this" would've been world ending.

anyway if any of this rings familiar to you, know I'm proud of you as well. in the way you've grown AND in the way you will grow, given time. hold the line, soldier. things get getter. that's a promise.

196 notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 8 months ago

Note

oikawa you say?? my favourite character in the whole entire series? you don’t understand how happy I am to hear you say that bc I’ve been sitting on this idea for so long not sure if I should send it in or not BC I WASN’T SURE IF YOU WERE INTO OIKAWA THAT MUCH 😭 …alright I’m gonna call myself out a bit with this one. BUT ITS OKAY ITS FINE.

hype man oikawa. he’s. so. good. at. hyping. you. up!!!!

you don’t ever feed your own ego so HE DOES IT FOR U. like, let’s say you managed to accomplish something (big or small, an accomplishment is an accomplishment) and it becomes a big point of pride for you, like huge, and you don’t want to show it that much cause??? you don’t want to come off as if you’re bragging!!! but oikawa sees through it and totally just feeds into it to see you smile and stand a bit taller. like out of the blue on a random Tuesday he’d just kiss you on the cheek and bring it up and just 😭🫶🏻

I’m so soft for him emmy. he’s so proud and LOVESSSS it when he sees that you’re proud of yourself too. he’s safe he won’t judge you at all for being just slightly prideful in whatever you’ve done/are doing. HE GETS IT!!!!! (cough that one scene in season 2 with ushijima) HE KNOWS YOU’D DO THE SAME FOR HIM!!!!

MWAH ILY💋 HAPPY MILESTONE!!!!

ARE YOU TRYNA KILL ME?

Oikawa is the best hype man you could ask for, because he knows how good praise feels and how bad degradation feels, so he’s always the one to take all your accomplishments- be it taking a shower after a bad day, to getting a promotion at work- and make them the biggest deal he ever could.

“UHHH BABY!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU, THIS IS A BIG DEAL!” He always says, cradling your face in his big hands and beaming down at you with the most pleased twinkle in his eye. You merely shrug and giggle softly, which he dramatically gasp, “are you NOT completely impressed with yourself? Because I will make you be.”

“No, no, I am!” You assure, nuzzling into his warm palm. “It’s just… it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big-“ he cuts of his repeating with a dramatic sigh and playful scratch of his head, “babe, you do realize this is something you accomplished. This is another checkmark on how great and smart you are- not to mention how hot-“

“I don’t think this has anything to do with being hot,” you snort.

But Tooru doesn’t let it go. Nay nay.

The next morning, the smell of fresh fruit and baked goods filled the air (obviously from the store because he’s banned from cooking without your watchful supervision), and you smile in the warmth of your pillow and slowly sit up with a stretch, swinging your legs over the bed and shuffling to the kitchen.

“BABYYYY!” He beams as he sees you, dropping the muffin he was holding to immediately pull you into a hug, peppering your face with kisses. You giggle at the tickly feeling and smile at him, only to pout as he pulls away to pick up the muffin. “Did you sleep well? I mean, I assumed you did, because you were drooling on me, so…”

“I do not drool!” You snicker, but your further teases die on your tongue when he makes his way to the counter and grabs a thick bouquet of flowers, your cheeks blazing at how serious he finds this and is encouraging you to do the same. “You didn’t have to do all of this,” you mewl, walking back into his arms. He wraps his free one around you and kisses your head repeatedly.

“Yes, I did,” he whispers. “Don’t be humble. You’ve earned this. And I’m so, so proud of you.”

Tears sting at your eyes at his words, and you burrow into him deeper, taking selfish inhales of his clean scent and fresh cologne, the closeness of the flowers adding a sweetness to your man.

“Come on,” he encourages, pulling away once again to get you to enjoy your breakfast. “I got you some pastries, grabbed you a breakfast sandwich, cut up some fruit, and I grabbed you one of those smoothies you like so much.” He says all of this with pride and a broad smile, pulling out a chair for you to sit in, “here. I’ll make you a plate.”

“I can do that,” you giggle.

“I don’t want you to. Today is all about celebrating you- who would I be if I didn’t pamper you today?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” you hum, watching him move around the kitchen and blushing slightly as he winks at you. He puts down the flowers and gets busy making you a plate of breakfast. “Hey, Tooru?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Thank you. For letting me have this. And being yourself.”

He smiles and chuckles to himself, scooping you a big helping of fruit.

“I’ve got you, baby. Gonna always take care of you and your accomplishments.

“You deserve it.”

215 notes · View notes