#Do you want me to continue this or should I sit down?

[hismercytomyjustice]

So fucking true. My intrusive thoughts made me terrified to see a therapist at first. Because they were going to look at me and immediately know I was a danger to society or something. Then the therapist printed out this thing on Pure O OCD and I was just like “Oh, thank fuck.”

Still took me forever to realize I actually HAD OCD and that it wasn’t just ~spicy anxiety~…

Though now that I’ve gotten better at recognizing and defusing the “big, bad” ones, my intrusive thoughts have become a lot “smaller” and more subtle, which I found out in therapy yesterday.

The “big, bad” ones? Stuff like “what if I grab that knife and stab someone” might as well come with a flashing neon “OCD!” sign. Cognitive defusion, BAM!

Subtle, only personally distressing ones? Oh, that’s just a “normal” thought. Cue rumination and reassurance seeking, my ~favorite~ compulsions! Except I don’t realize that’s what I’m doing. Because I don’t realize it’s my OCD/an intrusive thought.

Like “what if I don’t want to learn piano anymore”? Now that is a sneaky intrusive thought. Because then I start spiraling about how I’ve wasted time and money on learning, how I’ve let myself and my teacher down, how I don’t practice enough (what even is enough?), how I’m not making progress like I should be (by whose standards?), how I don’t even know whether or not I even want to quit (because how does someone actually know that kind of thing?)… And I become increasingly more distressed about it all and am sitting there hardcore soul searching, making pros and cons lists, and the guilt is eating me a-fucking-live.

Aaaand. Surprise! Turns out that was my OCD in a trench coat! Because why would that be OCD? That’s just a normal thought, isn’t it? Plenty of people wonder if they enjoy something and if they should continue it, don’t they?

Absolutely! Just not like that!

This rambling reblog brought to you by my therapist starting a question to me yesterday with, “When you have intrusive thoughts like that…” and my mental response being:

Just wanted to share because I had no fucking clue and wish I’d realized those were intrusive thoughts sooner so I could’ve been treating them as such instead of unintentionally compulsing/lapsing.

I mean OCD is definitely very personal and obsessions and all vary widely from person to person, which can make it hard to pinpoint stuff like that sometimes. One person’s intrusive thought very easily can just be another’s regular thought. It’s hard to tell sometimes when they aren’t like the more examples you usually hear about, i.e. things that would be distressing to most people, which is why they’re used as examples.

For this Disability Pride Month, I saw a post that was shittybad and it made me angry. So have this

[moonstruckme]

And since you're such an angel, I would love some:

snow angels with doctor!remus

Thank you and please hydrate 💧

Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words

Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 

“Yeah.” 

“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 

“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 

He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 

“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 

“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 

“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 

Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 

“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 

Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 

“Remus,” you whine. 

He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 

You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 

“No.” 

You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 

“Yes, love. Relax.” 

Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 

“Ow—Rem!” 

“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 

“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 

“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 

You make your displeasure known through your silence. 

“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 

“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 

“Is that good?” 

“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 

He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 

“A little, yeah.” 

“Headache?” 

You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 

“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 

“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 

He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 

[yolli-es]

you should do jinx giving reader a tattoo of her name 🙏

That's much better, isn't it?

Tags: possessive, jealousy, manipulation.

You are so active omg, is it because of season 2? I also have to say that this is quite proprietary and reminds me of a Yandere!Jinx.

This is starting to get annoying. Everything was going so well, and now?

Usually, you were always closely connected to each other, not just emotionally. It was so long and constant that it became an unspoken rule of Zaun. You've done many things, from having dinner together to revolution.

But now you've suddenly started going out "on business" too often. How could Jinx not worry?

Jinx followed yours next time. It's only for your safety, of course. A couple of hours, and she saw the root of the problem—the weird girl you were discussing with. A small, about 20 years old. It was annoying that she caught your attention like that. Weird, painful, and absolutely unbearable. It took all of Jinx's strength to contain herself. These meetings continued, and, in fact, there was nothing too close about them. On the contrary, you kept your distance and spoke absolutely calmly. Which could not be said about this girl. She was strangely leaning towards you, constantly fixing her hair and trying to touch you all the time. Jinx was really nervous, waiting for the right moment to ruin everything.

The moment when you give in to her.

This did not happen, and the truth came to light.

Luckily, it was much more prosaic. You were sneaking off to meet a jeweler for a cute hair clip. It was a gift for Jinx for your third anniversary. With all the running around, she forgot about it. How awkward...

"So... this is for me, huh? It's very beautiful," her fingers slid over the chilling metal of the small pin. The shape of the curved cross suited her. She didn't know what kind of metal it was, but it shimmered blue and pink in the light, remaining chillingly black in the shadows. Beautiful.

"Cool, huh? I had to work hard to get this, but... whatever. It was worth it." You seemed happier than Jinx herself, leaning over in front of her as you picked up her right braid and wondered where to put it, "It might not be very practical, but I'm sure it's really cute. Don't worry if it gets lost, okay?"

You finally looked at your girlfriend and understood her mood. She shrank, looking tensely at the floor and picking at her pants with her nails. Stuck in her dark thoughts right now. However, having anticipated your next move, Jinx spoke up: "I have a gift for you too." It suddenly dawned on her; her eyes lit up, and her back straightened. Jinx was ready to flare up with impatience. "M.. yeah? I'm so glad it is. I like it already, trust me," you giggled, sitting down next to Jinx as she grabbed your hands in anticipation. The hairpin would wait on the table for now. "Oh, something unusual," Jinx sat you down with your back to her, stood up, and rushed over to a huge box of art supplies.

You sat quietly, expecting something like a painting or a painted gun. The same one you got last time. Two is better than one!

Jinx will always be unpredictable.

When the noise became more than an explanation, you finally turned around. There was a small table behind you with colorful bottles on it and... a tattoo machine? This can't be.

"Ta-dam!" Jinx sat down on a chair on one side of the table, gesturing for you to sit opposite. "What? Wait, wait, you want to give me a tattoo?" Your voice wavered. You loved Jinx and trusted her in many ways, but let her give you a tattoo? "Oh, come on!" Jinx rolled her eyes, slamming her head down on the table, "You think I can't do it? Don't tell me you didn't check out my tattoos. I got them myself, you know!"

This didn't give you any confidence.

"No, you know... I just don't know what kind of tattoo I want," you turned away, shrugging awkwardly. Jinx chuckled, propping her head up in her hands and licking her lips. "I already decided, toots. What could be cooler than your girlfriend's name, hm?", Her voice sounded confident. So you didn't take it as a joke. However, Jinx didn't let you answer, grabbing your hands and not very carefully sitting you down opposite. "You know, I saw you with that girl... I was worried," she started slowly and from a distance. "You did nothing wrong, and I didn't doubt you. And yet, people are very tricky," she paused, gently taking your hand and looking into your eyes, "So I would like you to have a small tattoo; how about you? I promise it will look stylish." That stumped you for a minute. Yes, you wanted your tattoo, and yes, you love Jinx. But getting one for that reason? "Please," Jinx looked at you with her doe eyes, and that huskiness in her voice was driving you crazy. "Oh, maybe just one, huh? A small one," you chuckled. 

Of course, Jinx was manipulating you for what she wanted. In the most childish and stupid way, you just couldn't help but sneer. Was it a double game, and Jinx knew about your understanding from the start? It doesn't matter; She has already started working.

Pink is the most beautiful color, isn't it?

Despite her obviously selfish desire and rather daring start, Jinx did everything carefully. After all, it was your first time doing it, and she couldn't make you feel anything other than excitement and admiration. She was spinning around you, unable to sit still, turning on music, telling all sorts of nonsense, and taking breaks to relax. She just didn't want to make things worse than she probably already did.

It all ended quickly.

"That's much better, isn't it?", Jinx couldn't help but smile as she looked at the fresh tattoo on your skin. "You look your best, as always, toots." You liked it no less; it actually looked sweet. And very possessive. You liked this display of her love; this affection gave you a strange strength.

You smiled as you took her hand and said with a deliberately innocent look, "Okay, now it's your turn."

The problem is that you love her no less.

Still, there is not a word about yandere in the request, so she's just super jealous and possessive. I hope that the person who asked was thinking about something like this 🙌🏻

[barcaatthemoon]

fireball || alexia putellas x reader ||

Alexia learns firsthand why you don't drink often.

The shots that many bars in vacation areas gave were much bigger than the shots that you wereused to. Alexia had warned you of this several times, and yet, you still hadn't slowed down one bit. The two of you were still in Barcelona for the night, but she had indulged you in letting the two of you go to one of the places only tourists sought out. It was a bit gimmicky and most of the staff spoke primarily English. Alexia hated it, but you absolutely loved it.

"Ale, come dance with me!" Alexia stared at you skeptically. You could barely stand up straight, having nearly fallen twice as you tried to get another drink at the bar.

"One dance, and then we have to go amor," Alexia told you. You nodded, more than happy to leave with Alexia. However, you didn't realize that Alexia wasn't taking you home for the reasons that you wanted her to. She needed to get you in a bed for some sleep, but you could feel a subtle hum in between your legs as Alexia held you for the dance.

You tried and failed to dance on Alexia to seduce her, instead managing to nearly fall onto the ground. Alexia caught you and simply carried you out of the club. You would have normally protested, but you were more than enjoying the view of Alexia's ass as she carried you over her shoulder.

"You're so strong. Will you hold me up against the wall and fuck me?" you asked her. Alexia's jaw dropped at how nonchalantly you asked her that. You were definitely the bashful one in your relationship, often trying to bat Alexia away when she started kissing you in public. For you to just say that on a busy night street where anybody could hear was a sign that Alexia should have made you stop drinking an hour ago.

"Amor, you are very drunk. I would not feel right taking advantage of you in this state," Alexia told you as she helped you into the car. You whined and pouted, nearly on the verge of tears as you mumbled incoherently. Alexia sighed as she realized just how long of a night she was in with you. It wasn't often that you even drank a glass of wine with dinner, much less got drunk. She had learned on a trip with your national team that you were a legendary drunk, hundreds of stories coming from just a couple handfuls of nights.

Alexia thanks whatever powers in the universe she needed to that you willingly let her carry you inside. You seemed eager to get out of the car, and you managed to make the ride without getting sick. Alexia knew that it was only a matter of time, most of the alcohol you had been drinking was cheap and full of sugar. Still, you had enjoyed yourself, and that was the whole point of tonight. Alexia had given you the green light to do whatever you wanted, promising that she'd stay sober to take care of you.

"Ale, now that we're home, we can do shots!" you cheered. You made a beeline for the kitchen, but Alexia stopped you. She held onto your waist as she guided you to the couch to sit down.

"Wait here, I'll be right back," Alexia told you. You pouted, but sat there anyway. She grabbed a couple of snacks that she knew you liked whenever you'd been drinking and a bottle of water. It was a struggle to get you to drink the water, claiming that it would completely ruin your buzz.

"I can't believe that Alexia Putellas has regular chips. You always get on me for snacks," you pouted. Alexia sighed, not having the heart to tell you that she kept those around for you. You stayed on top of your fitness better than anybody Alexia had ever met, so she didn't see the harm in keeping a couple of little snacks for you around at her place. It had been early in your relationship when she asked if your snacks were approved by the nutritionist, long before she knew how hard you really worked.

"Maybe you're a bad influence," Alexia teased. That seemed to be the wrong move as your eyes began to well up with tears. Alexia quickly backtracked, but as she continued to talk, Alexia noticed that your attention was elsewhere. "Amor, you aren't getting sick are you?"

"I don't like this," you said as you pulled your top off. Alexia quickly covered her eyes, despite having openly stared as you got dressed earlier that day.

"Why are you undressing?" Alexia asked, slightly panicked.

"Because it's hot. And I'm hot. God, it's almost the winter, and I am baking Ale!" you exclaimed. Alexia rolled her eyes as she dropped her hand, unsurprised to see every bit of your clothing on the ground. "Let's go to bed."

"Are you just going to sleep naked?" You nodded as you stumbled your way towards Alexia's bedroom. Alexia followed you in and watched as you fumbled your way through your nighttime routine. Alexia tried to help where she could, but you were stubborn about doing it yourself. Alexia went through her own routine and found you asleep in bed by the time that she was halfway through the second step.

[p0orbaby]

can u do r and lessi being in the gym together and less won’t stop teasing and annoying reader

i switched this around because it fit what i was going for better. hope you don’t mind !

-

The gym is air-conditioned within an inch of its life, but Alessia is still sweating. Proper athlete sweating, the kind where her cheeks are flushed and her hair’s falling out of its ponytail in damp little wisps. She’s in a matching navy-blue set that makes her look like she’s about to film an Adidas advert, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to help.

You’re sitting cross-legged on a yoga mat in the corner, sipping from a water bottle you don’t need because you’re not the one working out. You’re on holiday, after all. Alessia’s the lunatic who insisted she needed “just an hour” in the gym, despite the private beach literally shimmering outside.

“What exactly are you training for?” you ask, watching as she bends forward into some sort of stretch that’s objectively impressive but mostly just funny.

“Pre-season,” she says through gritted teeth, reaching for her toes. “Fitness doesn’t take a holiday”

“Oh, that’s inspiring.” You take another sip of water, just to make a point. “Maybe Adidas should use that. Fitness doesn’t take a holiday, but your girlfriend will”

“Don’t you have something better to do?” she asks, glaring at you from under her sweaty fringe.

“Not really. This is pretty entertaining”

She ignores you and moves to the weights section, picking up two dumbbells that look unnecessarily heavy. You watch as she starts a set of bicep curls, her form perfect, of course, because she’s Alessia Russo and nothing she does is ever less than perfect.

“Nice guns,” you say, resting your chin in your hand. “Bet you could carry all the shopping in one trip”

“Do you want me to throw this at you?” she asks, but there’s a flicker of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“You wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much when I’m unconscious”

She rolls her eyes and moves to the resistance bands. She hooks one around her foot, stretches it, and starts some sort of kickback movement that you can’t take seriously because it looks absurd.

“Are you trying to win a world title or auditioning for the Rockettes?”

That one gets a laugh, though she tries to cover it with a cough.

“Seriously, Less, you’re on holiday,” you continue, leaning back on your hands. “Why are you torturing yourself in here when we could be doing literally anything else?”

“Because I don’t want to lose momentum,” she says, switching legs.

You tilt your head. “Is that what you call it? I call it masochism”

“Shut up”

“You know, I’m proud of you, babe. Really. But if you fall over in those squats, I’m recording it”

She pauses mid-rep to glare at you, and you grin innocently.

When she finally finishes her workout, she’s glistening like a Greek statue come to life. She tosses the resistance band onto a bench and strides over to you, towering above where you’re still sitting like a particularly lazy house cat.

“You done?” you ask sweetly, looking up at her.

“Yep,” she says, and without warning, she reaches down, grabs your hands, and hauls you to your feet in one swift motion.

“Alessia!” you yelp, stumbling into her chest.

She smirks, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Thought you could use a break , seeing as you’ve been sitting there running your mouth for the last hour.”

“I am pretty tired,” you quip, though your heart is pounding slightly from the sudden closeness. “Do you know how much effort it takes to keep up with you?”

She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Come on, lazy. Let’s hit the beach”

“Finally,” you say, though you secretly think she looks ridiculously good in that gym kit and you might not mind her dragging you back here tomorrow.

[zara-renata]

Would you love me if I were a worm?

Sylus x gn reader | A stupid, short drabble that got stuck in my head while peeling potatoes yesterday, no warnings

“Sylus, would you love me if I were a worm?”

Sylus doesn’t even look up from the book he’s reading, sprawled on one of the leather couches in his library, the full red moon spilling through the windows and blanketing him in a softly sinister light. “Yes.”

You lift your head and scowl at him from your position stretched out along his long body, hands folded under your chin, resting on his firm stomach.

“You’re not taking the question seriously.”

He lifts a dark silver eyebrow, eyes still not lifting from his book, the gold-rimmed reading glasses he’s wearing glinting in the warm light from the Tiffany lamp next to the couch. “And how did you arrive at that conclusion?”

“If you had actually properly considered it, you would have taken a little more time to answer.”

He finally deigns to look at you over the rims of his glasses. “I gave it the exact amount of attention that such a question deserves.”

“Why doesn’t it deserve more attention? I want to know your answer.”

“And I gave you my answer.” He returns to his book. It’s some pretentious title, about the sociology of ingroups and outgroups, the banality of evil.

“How can I take your answer seriously if you don’t think about it properly?”

He sighs. Looks over his glasses at you again. “You’ve been spending too much time with the twins.”

You sit up, leaning against the armrest of the couch opposite of Sylus. He frowns as you move away. “I don’t think I spend enough time with them, actually. They’re hilarious.”

His frown deepens. “I’m hilarious.”

“No, you’re a pretentious edgelord who won’t properly consider my question.”

“You speak so sweetly to the twins. Where’s that honey when you speak to me?”

“Honeypot’s empty until you tell me why you’d love me if I were a worm.” You prod his thigh with your bare foot.

He sighs again, sets the book on the side table. He takes your foot in his hands and begins to rub it, thumbs gently pressing into your arch. You suppress a moan.

“I’d love you if you were a worm because even as a worm, you are still you. I’d love you in any universe, in any world, in any timeline, in any form.”

You stare at him for a moment. “Now I feel bad about being mean to you.”

“As you should,” he gloats. “How will you make it up to me?”

“No, no. I’m not done.” He continues to caress your foot, one hand drifting up to your ankle, circling it between his thumb and forefinger. “You may love me as a worm, but what would you do with me? And would you seek out company in other people, since I couldn’t provide it to you as a little wiggly worm?”

“I would construct the most extravagant terrarium with all of the most luxurious provisions that a little worm’s heart could desire.” He pauses. “I’d also have to construct some sort of grate to protect you from Mephisto.”

You shudder, thinking about what it would be like to be a worm facing down Mephisto’s ruby stare. “I’d probably just be happy in some dirt,” you say, giving him your other foot. He takes the hint and begins to rub it too.

“Tch. My worm deserves only the finest in compost and enrichment activities in their terrarium. I wouldn’t be happy with just giving you some dirt.”

“Of course, and we must keep his royal snobness happy.”

“See? This is why I love you,” he smiles, just a little. “Even though your tongue is so sharp with me.”

“You’re avoiding the question about seeking other company,” you say, sinking lower into the couch as you enjoy the foot massage.

“What’s the point in answering what is clearly a trick question? You will not be turned into a worm. This whole discussion is a waste of time we could spend doing more interesting things.” He gives you an exaggeratedly lascivious once-over.

“I could be turned into a worm! Modified protocores have resulted in weirder shit happening!”

Sylus sighs yet again in resignation.

“I would miss your human company terribly, but there’s no replacing you,” he says smoothly.

You scowl at him again. “That doesn’t answer the question.”

“Darling, I was fine with my own company until you came into my life. I was fine with my own hand until you came into my life. I’d miss your company, and your sharp tongue, and your blow—”

You jerk one of your feet out of his hands and prod him in his stupid sexy abs. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

“I don’t think you do,” he says, sliding out from under you, dropping to his knees on the plush rug in front of you. He lifts one of your legs over his broad shoulder. “I think a demonstration is in order, of all the things I’ll miss that are irreplaceable, should the unthinkable happen and your lovely human form is reduced to that of a worm. I’ll start.” He lifts your other leg over his shoulder and looks up at you smugly.

You look down at him, heart so full with how much you love him that it hurts. “Promise you’re not lying?”

“When have I ever lied to you, beloved?”

You tilt your head. You think he really would love you if you were a worm.

“I’d love you if you were a worm too, Sy.”

“Oh good, I can stop losing sleep at night,” he says, voice dripping sarcasm. You punish him by tightening your thighs, squishing his handsome face between your knees.

He laughs a little breathlessly. “If you’re trying to encourage me, it’s working, kitten.”

You laugh and release him. “Deviant,” you say affectionately.

“Your deviant,” he says, leaning forward, big palms gliding up your thighs. “Whether you’re a human or a worm, that won’t change.”

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑴𝒂𝒎𝒂’𝒔 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒚*

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Older Reader hinted at as much as I could lol. Bratty!Jeongin, Hair pulling, biting/hickeys, face sitting, oral(f), Edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple rounds/orgasms and creampies, “mama” used, I think I used noona once. Sorry for any missing tags or missing warnings.

A/N: This is a little shorter than I wanted it to be but *Cough cough* I’m always in need of a bratty jeongin who gets put in his place by an older reader.

Find Request Here

-🖤

Jeongin was being particularly feisty today. Making snippy comments back to anything you had said. Even a simple “can you grab that for me” was met with a huff. You didn’t know what got into him but you were getting annoyed with it. “Jeongin” you said sternly looking at him as he looked grumpy on the couch. When he didn’t reply you said his name again.

“What!” He said glaring at you.

“Fix that attitude” you said glaring back at him.

“I don’t have an attitude” he said crossing his arms looking back at the tv.

You sighed, so he wanted to play this game did he. You walked over to him standing in front of the tv. He huffed turning off the tv “whatever, I’ll just go to the room.” He said getting up from the couch. Oh. Oh he was in for it.

You grabbed his arm, pushing him back to the couch. “Excuse you?” You said now hovering above him.

“What the hell!” He hissed back.

“Yeah? What the hells with your attitude!”

“I told you I don’t have an attitude! Stop acting like you’re my- my fucking mother!” He growled back.

You looked at him for a second tilting your head. Gritting your teeth leaning close to him “say that again.” You could see him crumbling under your gaze.

“I- i-“ he stuttered out.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, straddling his lap you ran your hand up the back of his head. Grabbing a chunk of hair pulling it ever so slightly. “Guess I’m just gonna have to fix that attitude myself huh? Dumb little fox” you said voice almost in a hum. You could see him gulp before you leaned down biting his neck. He groaned at the pain his hands flying up to your side. “Nuh uh, you don’t deserve to touch me” you said slapping his hands away.

“That’s not fair” he whined.

“You know what’s not fair? The unwarranted attitude I received all day” you said looking down at him. “Now you either listen or I’ll get the ropes” you said firmly. He slinked his hands back down to his side before you continued your movements on his neck. When he was finally all covered in marks you pulled away standing up. “Pants. Off.” You said and he complied right away. “Good now you can help take mine off.” You said.

He did as he was told stripping you of your bottom and panties. “Lay down on the couch” you demanded. Again doing as he was told hoping you’d let him off a little easy but that wasn’t gonna happen. Not after the attitude he had today, oh no. “Keep those hands to yourself” you said before positioning yourself so your cunt was hovering over his head. “You’re gonna make me cum before I even think about touching you” you said before letting your body down on him. He looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, eyes that were already rolling back at your taste.

He lapped at your folds, tongue darting into your core. You grabbed his hair rolling your hips on his tongue. You let out a small chuckle seeing his knuckles turning white from gripping the couch. As you rolled your hips you leaned back grabbing his cock. He jumped at the sudden touch making him groan. You started moving your hand faster and faster knowing he wasn’t gonna last. “Close” he choked out. You let go of him making him whine ruining his high. You kept up the torture anytime he was close letting go before continuing the cycle.

“Please” he whimpered out.

“Why should I let you cum when you haven’t even made me cum yet hmm?”

“No-Noona- m’sorry” he cried.

“Less talking my little fox” you said ever so sweetly.

Jeongin was now on a mission, sucking at your clit as you road his face. He bit ever so gently, the moan you let out had his head turning. You were close- fuck and so was he again. His hands finally found their way to your hips pulling you down onto him as far as you could. His hands slinking their way up your chest. As much as you wanted to protest you didn’t feeling your high quickly approaching. Something jeongin knew all too well is that you needed his touch, you craved it as much as he craved yours.

“Please cum for me! Please please” he begged. Those pretty eyes stared up at you with desperation. You were gone. Pulling his hair harshly as your legs closed around him. He licked you clean like the good boy you knew he was.

When you finally came down from your high you shifted yourself down. With no warning to him you sunk yourself down taking his cock fully. Seating yourself perfectly on him. He moaned out body moving like he was trying to get away “can’t- I’m-“ he couldn’t even get out the words before he was cumming deep inside of you. “M’sorry” he said in a whisper.

“It’s okay baby, it’s only the start” you said with a devilish grin.

You moved up and down on his sensitive cock, it still slightly hard. His hands gripped at your hips pathetically whimpering. “T’much- m’so sensitive-“ he cried it only falling on deaf ears though.

“Gonna keep that attitude in check my little fox?” You said looking down at his contorted face. He nodded. “Use your words baby” you coo’d.

“Yes- yes! M’sorry I’ll be good”

“Mamas good boy?” You said.

“Mm- ah- mams good boy!” He stuttered out feeling himself about to cum again.

The night went on with this. You had him cumming over and over, but so were you. “Mama please!- can’t- can’t-“ he cried out.

“One more baby? Just one more please my little fox” you said.

When he nodded you leaned your body down. Kissing him sloppily hands tangling in his hair. The sounds of multiple creampies filled the air with sloshing noises. You were sticky from sweat body’s sticking together like glue. You tugged on his hair gently making him whimper into the kiss. “My good boy” you said softly. His hands coming around you before one final thrust he was cumming again. He moved his hands down your body playing with your overly sensitive clit. “N-no you gotta- please cum for me” he groaned out his little hip movements pushing everything deep into you.

He chased your lips hungrily before squeezing your clit gently, sending you over the edge once more. Your legs shook. Body completely collapsing into his. He held onto you whispering little I’m sorrys only for you to shush him. “It’s ok baby, you- you were such a good boy, even making sure I came after you did” you said kissing his cheek gently.

“Let’s get cleaned up and we can have those cookies I made” you said with a smile. Making him nod happily. After showering and cookies you both were curled up on the couch. Jeongin falling asleep in your arms.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: jungkook gets hurt during practice and the only thing y/n has in her backpack are miffy bandaids 

➺ pairing; quarterback!jungkook x librarian!y/n

➺ genre; university!au!!! sfw!! soft soft fluff!! jungkook and y/n are so fond of each other wowowow it actually makes me physically nauseous please get a ROOM

➺ wordcount; 1k

»»————- ♥ ————-««

“ow!” jungkook hisses, wincing as you dab against the scrape on his arm with a cotton ball that’s been drenched in a generous amount of warm water, “ow…”

“sorry, i know…” you mutter, trying your best to be as gentle as possible as you reduce your pressure (you were already going feather light but jungkook has always been a big baby with cuts and scrapes) and toss the soiled cotton ball aside before reaching for another one in the big plastic bag, “i can’t believe you guys don’t have a proper first-aid kit.” 

“it’s taehyung’s fault, coach asked him to restock it and apparently he completely forgot.” jungkook snorts, glancing down at the rusty tin box sitting on the counter next to him - you managed to find it after about fifteen minutes of searching the changing rooms but you were more than disappointed when you opened the rusty old box to find practically nothing but dust 

but if this were a real emergency, jungkook would be bleeding out on the ground and all you’d have to try to save your boyfriend is a single q-tip and one dried out packet of rubbing alcohol

luckily, you always carry a mini first aid kit with you in your backpack - last winter you slipped on a rogue patch of ice and ended up falling to the ground, your poor books sliding across the sidewalk and your palms all scraped up and bloody, so ever since then, you’ve been carrying your little pouch with you in case of emergencies 

gauze, bandaids, cotton balls, surgical tape, and some hard candies - you have it all!! 

“explain to me again what the hell you guys were trying to do out there?”

“taehyung said that when one sense goes dark, the other ones become way stronger and we wanted to test that theory out-“ 

“so you did this on purpose-“ you pause, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “you blindfolded yourself and ran around the football field on purpose.” 

“i thought i had better instincts than this!” jungkook gestures to himself, his kneecaps all scraped up along with a few scratches on his arms, “and my head hurts…” 

watching jungkook run into the goal post full force would’ve been comical if it weren’t for the fact that that was literally what happened - he ran full force into a damn goal post and thank god he was wearing a helmet otherwise he probably would’ve knocked himself clean out

“i don’t wanna study anymore.” jennie huffs, leaning back against the benches behind you guys as she props her elbows up on them, “can’t we do something else to pass the time while they’re practicing?” 

“i don’t wanna study anymore either, but weirdly enough this is the only time i can really concentrate.” you shrug, keeping your eyes on your laptop as your fingers continue to dance across your keyboard, “is this the only google presentation the professor shared with us this week? i swear there’s another one-“ 

“all you care about are google presentations and taking notes-“

“it’s coming up to finals season, of course all i care about are google presentations and taking notes-“ 

KONK!

“oh, shit-!“ you look up when you hear taehyung’s loud laugh travel over to where you’re sitting, your eyes squinting slightly when you notice that jungkook on the ground, “wait, that was kinda sick, actually, we should do that again-“”

“aw, gross!” jungkook gets up from the ground and shakes himself off and that’s when you notice crimson smeared across his legs as he hobbles towards your general direction, taehyung trailing behind him, “yuck, there’s dirt and shit in my cuts-“

“oh my god, jungkook!” you slap your laptop shut and set it aside, grabbing your backpack and practically sprinting down the steps, “are you okay?! what the hell happened?!” 

and that’s how you ended up here - patching up your idiot boyfriend with nothing but miffy bandaids because that’s all the store was selling (it was miffy or hello kitty, and you’ve always loved miffy) - and you’ve practically used up the entire pack at this point 

“i just think that you have to think about whether or not an idea sounds stupid before deciding to do it.” you huff, tossing another soiled cotton ball into the bin before peeling open the thin wrapper for the bandaid

“well, how am i supposed to know if an idea is stupid or not?”

“you didn’t think blindfolding yourself and running around a football field was stupid?”

“no, i thought it was an innovative training technique that’s been undiscovered by coaches in the world of football!” jungkook perks up, sticking a finger up into the air before shutting his eyes so that you can tend to the little scratch above his eyebrow 

you settle in between his legs from where he’s sitting up on the counter and he instinctively reaches down to place both his hands a little above your waist before giving you a squeeze, “thank you, by the way.” he says softly, and you can’t help help but smile before leaning forward to press a little kiss to the corner of his mouth 

“you’re welcome. i’m gonna need a new box of miffy bandaids because you literally used up the entire thing.” you can’t help but frown as you place the last one on his brow bone, “on the bright side, you look really cute with miffy bandaids, so i don’t regret giving them all to you. but you seriously have to stop trying to kill yourself during practice.” 

“i’m more of a hello kitty guy, to be so real.” jungkook opens his eyes, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before pulling away, “and you worry too much about me.”

“you worry too little!” 

🎙️ ask y/n what kind of candy is in her first-aid pouch (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai, they miss you!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!) 

[froppy-butterflyfan2000]

Dorana 2 let her mouth drop and broke eye contact on Oberon. Her palms are rubbing her clothes. Their mother, Dorana who is there, behind her daughter, proud of her daughter for apologizing, is surprise by her son’s rejection. “Why? Why won’t you forgive me?” Dorana 2 asked.

Oberon let out a sigh. “You bullied me. Bullying is a serious crime here on Earth as you get older. The older you get, you will forget what you have done, but the victims never forget. No amounts of apologies will never make up for it.”

“Oberon, she did not know about your existence back then,” Dorana defended.

He frowns at his mother, who he sees after nine years of living all alone. “She did not know that I was bullied for having no parents, and isolated me from you whenever I visited.” He said.

“What? Oberon, I didn’t know, we can talk about this, so that there is no more misunderstandings.” Said Dorana, heart crushed by what happened to her son.

“I don’t cares about it anymore. Goodbye!” Oberon declared.

“Oberon, wait!”

Dorana 2 grasping at Oberon’s arm. “Don’t go!”

Oberon narrowed his eyes and his arm phrased through, freed from her grasp. He turns invisible and fly away. Dorana 2 chasing after him.

“Dora!” Said their mother, follow her daughter and catch her in her arms.

“Mom! Let me go! I have to apologize!” Said Dorana 2. “I need to fixed this. We can be a family again.”

“Dorana 2, that is enough. The damages are done. I lost my son again. You got what you wanted.” She declared in quiet rage, with tears in her angry yet disappointed and despair in her eyes fall down in Dorana 2’s face.

Dorana 2’s conflicted eyes are shaken up as she see that she hurt her own mom’s feelings again.

~~

Hours have passed, Dorana 2 is in her room, at The Solaria’s Townsville summer house, rightfully punished for her actions. All while Dorana is sitting on a sofa in the living room, thinking about where she has messed up in parenting because she did not raise her daughter to be a bully. Argan, sitting next to her is comforting his big sister.

“I just don’t know what went wrong! She was suppose to be a good fairy. At the same time, Oberon should not be unforgiving toward her sister. They are just kids!” Said Dorana.

Argan nod, agreeing to her, but there is a doubt on his face because he is contemplating on what she said.

“You are not wrong, he is a kid, however he is knowledgeable. I don’t blamed Oberon for building boundaries to protect himself, even if it means not wanting to be Dora’s brother,” Argan admitted. “Her words actually hurt. Oberon is not the only one who suffered and you enabled her behavior.” Her younger brother pointed it out. He brushed his red dyed short hair.

Dorana is conflicted by what he said. “Excuse me? What are you even saying little brother?”

“I am saying that Oberon is not the only victim. You cutted my hair short, while I was asleep and then suggested to me to dye my hair and change my attire to stop being teased.” Argan continued with a sad tone. “The most hurtful parts are it influenced my own kids and your own kids to do the same thing and you not being there for me, after all I done for you. That is why it all goes wrong….” He said. His words cause Dorana’s world to shaken in a realization. A realization that she changed for the worst. Where did the kind hearted queen who loves her brother, and not want to hurts his feelings ever again go?

“I do wonders, where did my big sister go?” The Co-King of Lumenia asked sadly.

“I have no idea…..,” the Co-Queen of Lumenia answered.

Dorana 2 Starling of Lumenia and Oberon belong to @gloriousdreamunknown

Prompt #1118

"We both made mistakes. But I don't think I can forgive yours."

[myokk]

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn’t. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she isn’t going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebels against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

“Well,” she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. “I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook.”

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

“Do you want to start, or should I?”

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn’t she be able to talk to him?

“Here,” she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. “Show me how it’s done.”

from my oneshot, clumsy🫶🫶🫶

[drabblesandsnippets]

Whatever You Need

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

Summary: (3.3k) Bucky comforts you during a rough time. 

Background: Reworking of this snippet. It’s been a rough few weeks (for a lot of folks, I’m sure) and I couldn’t stop thinking about this one. To everyone who struggles with their mental health, please be kind to yourself. 

Warnings: 18+ Only. Mention of insomnia, depression, anxiety. Angst. Fluff. Attempt at a bit of humor? Soft and sweet Bucky. Established relationship. Pet names (sweetheart, doll). Non-sexual nudity & touching. Kissing. Cuddling. Brief mention of/alluding to past sexual intimacy.

---------------------------

You sit by the open window, breathing in the heavy scent of the steady rain, listening to the thunder getting closer. You should be in bed, with Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, snuggling you back to sleep. But, you can’t seem to make yourself go.

It’s been weeks of this. Insomnia. Depression. Anxiety. Every day, things feel just a bit more hopeless, like you’re barely treading water, surely to go under at any moment. Rationally, you know this will pass, as it always does, you just have to wait it out and hope you don’t drown in the meantime. 

The closer the storm gets, the more anxious you feel. As if the energy of the weather is triggering your fight or flight response. You push open the window a bit more and scoot closer to the screen, imagining yourself out in the storm, getting soaked to the bone. At least then you’d have a reason for the way your body is currently shaking.

“Sweetheart,” the tenderness of Bucky’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you glance over to find him watching you from the doorway. You have no idea how long he’s been standing there, wearing just his underwear and an obvious look of concern on his face.

You let out a heavy sigh and bite back the unnecessary apology, turning your attention back to the storm, a wave of guilt making your stomach flip. Bucky’s done everything he can to be patient with you, and never once has he made you feel like you’re a burden, but it’s taken an obvious toll on your relationship. The way you’ve kept him at arm’s length, scared to let him see how much you’re really struggling.

Your racing thoughts are interrupted again when Bucky comes closer, now barely a foot from the window nook where you sit. “I just wanna take care of you.” You turn your head to watch him slowly crouch down next to the seat, never once taking his eyes off you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to.”

You immediately shake your head, needing him to understand it’s not about that. Your mouth opens, the words on the tip of your tongue, but nothing comes out. This is how it’s been for weeks. Words desperately trying to claw their way out, only to get stuck in your throat with no escape. 

The frustration easily builds, fresh tears pricking your eyes, and you look away again, letting out a shuddering breath. Bucky should just give up on you. Leave you to wallow in self-pity and loneliness. He never will though, no matter how much you think you might deserve it.

“It’s also okay if you do want me to,” he continues, his hand slowly reaching out towards you, the tips of his fingers ghosting over the blanket wrapped around you, waiting for permission to touch you. 

Bucky sees you, understands you in ways no one ever has. Your independence is your shield, something you’ve carefully cultivated. You’ve handled everything that life’s thrown at you on your own, and relying on someone else doesn’t come easy. It has absolutely nothing to do with him, but he can still be there for you, if you’ll let him. 

“It’s okay if you need me to take care of you.”

His gentle assurance breaks your resolve, the tears currently blurring your vision spilling over your lashes, and the only thing you can do is bury your face in your hands, trying to hide from him. Bucky’s not one to give up so easily, choosing to join you, taking a spot on the edge of the seat instead of breaking the physical distance, his hand now inches from your sock-covered foot.

“You don’t have to look at me,” he promises, letting the words process before he continues, “I just want you to listen, okay? Can you do that, please?” 

All you can manage is a slight nod as you try to stifle a sniffle, your breaths uneven, willing yourself to stop the fresh tears threatening to build. 

No matter how many times you’ve been down this road - both alone and together - it never seems to get easier. Especially when Bucky’s male ego tells him he’s supposed to fix this, that it’s his job to put you back together and all you have to do is let him.

It’s a ridiculous notion, one he does his best to ignore, choosing instead to tell you, “I know it’s scary to admit you’re not okay, especially when you’re still trying to figure out what’s happening inside your own head. So, I’m not expecting you to have the energy to talk about anything tonight, I just want you to know that whatever you need from me, you have it sweetheart, even if you’re never able to tell me what’s going on.”

You try to fight through the rush of emotions, his words bringing a fresh wave of tears, your body aching for his comfort. You’re so tired of being strong, of forcing yourself to power through, pretending it’s not as bad as it seems. Bucky’s your one safe place in this chaotic world and for a fleeting moment, you have the courage to bridge the gap, the tension in your shoulders easing just a bit as you let your hand drop towards him.

He takes it for what it is, catching your hand before it can fall to his thigh and brings your palm to his lips, placing a sweet kiss right in the center. At the feel of your pulse fluttering from his simple touch, Bucky’s smile grows and he’s encouraging you closer with a soft, “co’mere,” his metal hand sliding along the outside of your arm to help guide you.

Pulling you into his lap, your soft curves molding perfectly to the harder planes of his body, Bucky wraps you up in his warm embrace, cradling your head against his shoulder. Your tears come more freely now and for a while, you just sit there, listening to the steady heartbeat of the man you’re lucky to call yours, the sound a gentle reminder that you’re not alone, regardless of what your brain tries to convince you of sometimes.

It’s not until your breath begins to even out, your sniffles slowly subsiding, that Bucky softly breaks the silence to ask you, “How do ya feel about a bath, sweetheart?”

A soft noise of protest comes out muffled against his skin, your arms tightening around his torso, content to just stay here as long as he’ll let you. Still, you can’t help asking, “is this your way of saying I smell?” It hasn’t been that long since you forced yourself to shower.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes your body, your own smile building in return and he wastes no time in nuzzling your hair, his head dipping to dramatically sniff along your jaw and neck. “Nope,” he says matter-of-factly, meeting your gaze with a grin before repeating the action along the other side, drawing an unmistakable laugh from you. “You smell just as good as you always do,” he promises with a tender kiss right below your ear. “But, a bath might make you feel a little better.”

There are a multitude of reasons to say no - the energy it takes just to get in, the stark contrast of the cool air after getting out, having to dry off every inch of your skin before you can even think about getting into bed, just to name a few. All it takes is one look at Bucky and you’re realizing none of them matter because he already knows. 

His assurance that you won’t have to lift a finger comes quick, reminding you that he’s here to take care of you, in whatever way you need. He’ll even carry you, if you’ll let him.

To both of your surprise, it doesn’t take much for you to agree and the moment you do, Bucky seeks permission to kiss you, showing his appreciation, murmuring words of adoration against your lips. He takes a moment to savor the intimate connection, silently thanking the universe for bringing you to him, for allowing him the privilege of loving you.

He drops you off in the bedroom, resecuring the blanket still wrapped around your body, convincing you to rest in bed while he draws a bath. Once he’s gone, you actually start to doze off, snuggled with Bucky’s pillow, the distant thrum of the bathtub filling a nice break from the near constant rush of thoughts trying to occupy your mind.

When he returns, the vision of you resting peacefully is almost enough for him to break his promise to wake you. He’d happily sit watch, keep an eye on you for the rest of the night to ensure your sleep went undisturbed.

It’s the last thing you’d want though. You’d wake disoriented, feeling constricted in your clothing, worse off than you were when you fell asleep. 

With a heavy sigh, Bucky shakes his head, a regretful smile crossing his face as he reaches out to stroke your cheek with the back of his fingers. “You ready?”

His voice is barely audible, your mind not comprehending his touch until his beard is tickling your nose, his lips brushing against your forehead. Your response comes in the form of a confused grunt, your face scrunched, hands reaching up to touch him.

“The bath’s ready,” he explains, his smile evident in his tone, giving you one last lingering kiss before pulling back. “Are you ready, or do ya wanna rest a bit longer?”

It’d be easy to just stay here, let Bucky undress you and put you under the covers, your body craving rest. It won’t last though. You’ll start to get restless, toss and turn in hopes of finding a better position, all the while your mind will refuse to quiet, growing more on edge until you’re forced out of bed yet again.

A bath isn’t a cure-all, and maybe it won’t really help, but you owe it to yourself to at least try. To let yourself be vulnerable, no matter how scary it feels. 

Bucky effortlessly carries you from bed into the dimly lit bathroom, the heater already keeping the room relatively warm, ready to be adjusted when it’s time to get out. After setting you on your feet next to the tub, he gives you another reassuring smile and starts to undress you, careful not to snag your shirt on your hair.

You have to close your eyes when he kneels to remove your sweatpants, your body fighting the urge to take over and do it yourself. It’s far from the first time Bucky’s undressed you - and it certainly won’t be the last - it’s just not usually under these circumstances. 

The lingering tension starts to fade when he looks up, his obvious love for you shining through even your most persistent insecurities. Once he’s freed you of the rest of your clothes, he helps you in, the oversized tub providing more than enough space for you to sink down, the water coming up to your chest.

Bucky takes his time, giving you a minute to adjust to the heat of the water while he gathers the necessary supplies, the bath pillow already secure behind your head. All you can do is watch him, your throat tight with emotion, tears starting to prick your eyes, the nagging voice in your head trying to convince you that you don’t deserve someone like him.

Biting back the urge to tell him what’s going through your mind, you blink back the tears, your eyes cast to the ceiling for a brief moment. He gives you more time than necessary, his focus on dipping the fresh washcloth in the water, then reaching for the body wash to pour a generous amount.

Seeing him preparing to bathe you makes the moment fully come into view and a soft, incredulous laugh leaves you, “are we really doing this?” You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so naked and exposed, despite all the sinful things you’ve let this man do to you.

Bucky’s grin does wonders for your anxiety, as does his soft assurance of, “not if you don’t think it’ll help.” He tilts his head, holding your gaze, ensuring you hear his next words, “But, if it’s because you think I don’t wanna do this, or I’m not gonna enjoy every single second of it? Doll, come on, this is me.” 

His words cause another exhale of a laugh and a blush spreads across your cheeks, Bucky’s smiling growing wider, his tongue peaking out to tease along his bottom lip. 

“I’m getting to take care of you, be near you, touch you. I live for this shit,” he laughs, his brows raised to drive home his point. “I’m obsessed with you, remember? I’d literally drink your bath water.”

You barely have time to react before he’s leaning forward, having every intention to prove it to you. Your wet hands reach out just in time to push against his head and shoulder before his face gets any closer to the water, a loud laugh spilling out of you, “What- Stop, Bucky, oh my god!”

His laughter joins yours and he allows you to turn his head at the last moment, taking the opportunity to close the distance to share a kiss, Bucky smiling against your lips. You can’t resist keeping your hands on him, the water dripping down his bare torso, but he doesn’t seem to mind, his own hand reaching out to cup your jaw.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he promises, peppering kisses across your cheeks and forehead, ending with one on the tip of your nose. Once he’s sure your worries and insecurities are starting to fade, he reaches for the washcloth again, telling you, “Now, just relax and let me take care of my girl, okay?”

A playful roll of your eyes and a smile you don’t even try to hide as you tell him, “fine,” begrudgingly doing as requested. Bucky takes it in stride, his smile never faltering, happily reaching for your arm to start taking care of you in one of the few ways you’ve let him recently.

He can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity, taking his time to bathe you, massaging your muscles in the process, his movements smooth along your soap-slicked skin. By the time he’s given each limb equal attention, you’re putty in his hands and you make no objections when the washcloth dips under the water to wash your stomach and hips.

Your eyes remain closed for the most part, Bucky’s occasional glance telling him you’re enjoying this far more than you anticipated. He makes a mental note to convince you to make this a regular thing, not just when you’re going through a rough time. You deserve to be pampered every day, but he’ll settle for at least once a month.

Not missing how careful Bucky is as he moves higher, the washcloth not lingering on your breasts any longer than necessary, you finally open your eyes, blinking slowly up at him. He meets your gaze with a soft smile as he starts to wash your collarbone, the warm water calling you to sink lower, as if it might erase the clinging numbness that refuses to dissipate. 

The words tumble out of you before you can overthink them, your question catching Bucky off guard, his hand stilling on the edge of the tub. “What if I never get better?”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs with a slight shake of his head, his brow furrowing to  match the frown beginning to appear. Your mouth opens to respond, the words failing you before they can even form, wishing you could rewind time to prevent the worried look on his face.

He breaks the silence before you have to, offering you an empathetic smile as he asks, “Can I get in with you?” It’s the last thing you’re expecting as a response and it catches you off guard in such a way that your mind stops racing long enough to scoot forward, making room for him.

There’s no time to waste, Bucky quickly discarding his underwear in order to join you, the oversized tub giving him space to sit behind you, pulling you back against his chest. With his arms wrapped protectively around you, he kisses your shoulder, rubbing his beard along your skin in hopes to ground you, “This isn’t going to last forever. Eventually, something’s gonna shift and you’ll start to feel better.”

Bucky’s not wrong. What you’re experiencing right now, regardless of how long it’s lasted, won't be forever and things will go back to normal at some point. Right now isn’t what you’re referring to though. With a heavy breath, you pull your knees up, letting the air hit your skin, goosebumps threatening to spread. “But that never lasts either.”

He can hear the emotion in your voice, the tears starting to build again, and it makes his chest ache, wishing he could ease your pain. “Maybe not,” he agrees, keeping his tone gentle, “but that’s okay. It’s all part of being human, sweetheart. We have good days, and we have bad days, and no, I’m not keeping score.”

An exhale of a laugh leaves you at the same time a tear escapes your lashes, causing you to automatically wipe it away, your wet hand leaving several drops of water in its place. Bucky gives you the space to collect yourself, using the opportunity to grab the washcloth and bodywash again, determined to complete his mission of bathing you.

You welcome the distraction, leaning forward to give him better access, his fingers soon working out the tension in your back. Your delicate mental state leaves you vulnerable, Bucky’s touch sending you further down the rabbit hole of negative thoughts, the once receding emotions returning tenfold, leaving you crying.

“You deserve better than this.”

“Hey,” Bucky soothes, gathering you in his arms to pull you flush against his body, your weight welcome on his lap, your face pressed against his neck, tears mixing with the water. “There is no one out there better for me than you,” he promises. “You’re it for me. You and your gorgeous mind and insanely hot body, and yes - all your ‘issues’,” he grins, kissing your temple.

There’s nothing you can do except sigh, your breath shuddering out of you, your hand pressed against his chest, drawing comfort from the strong beat of his heart. What he’s saying is starting to break through, reminding you what it’s like when things don’t feel so heavy. How easy it is to be loved by him when you’re not so scared of being a burden.

“I just want you to be happy,” you manage to whisper, working past the emotions trying to overwhelm you again.

“Good,” Bucky’s quick to respond, his fingers on your chin tilting your face up to meet his warm gaze. “‘Cause that’s exactly how you make me feel.” He can’t help but shake his head at you, his smile growing, as if you don’t realize how ridiculous you’re being, “Every day you make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world. Nothing is ever going to change that. Got it?”

Another heavy breath, and a tear that Bucky casually wipes away, but this time it’s accompanied by a twitch of a smile, the waves of anxiety starting to recede. “Got it,” you whisper, meeting him halfway for a kiss, solidifying your devotion to each other, your promise to work as a team to get through whatever comes, without pushing the other too far out of your comfort zone.

It’ll take time, and it won’t be perfect, but at least you’ll have the rest of your lives to keep trying.

---------------------------

Comments and reblogs very much appreciated!! 🩶

Main Masterlist

[kigieri]

Wiser

Fernando Alonso × Reader

A nice birthday breakfast with your favourite person.

A/N: A birthday post for myself! Even though it has already been some time. It's short and sweet, just something I gifted myself. It is really hard for me to capture the way Fernando speaks English. I gave it my best shot.

This story on AO3.

It was nice to be able to celebrate her birthday with Fernando. There was no bad blood over him having to spend this time of year at a racetrack halfway across the world, but it was nice to have him home for it, too. They could celebrate together, and even had the time for a little party with friends and family.

She woke up to Fernando stroking her hair, lightly so as not to wake her. She stretched as much as possible without actually compromising the comfortable position she was in, and stretched her neck towards her lover for a kiss. "Happy birthday, hermosa." His voice was a bit rough from sleep, but she could practically hear him smiling.

After turning around, she laid her head on his chest. "Good morning," She muffled into his chest. A slight chuckle could be heard from him. "Do you want to stand up or stay lying?" She craned her neck to look up at him from her lying position and raised an eyebrow. "Stay."

Fernando nodded, returning to stroking her hair. After laying together for another half hour, they decided it was time to stand up. Fernando made her sit down at the little table in the kitchen. They found it more comfortable than the big one in the living room. He was not fond of cooking and refused to do it most of the time, but for her birthday he scrapped together all the talent he did not have, as she slyly remarked.

A few minutes, and her helping out, later, they had food in front of them. In between, they talked about plans for the winter break and what they had been up to while apart.

"If we're spending Christmas in Spain, should we spend new years at home? I think that would be nice." Fernando nodded, not seeming convinced. "Do you want to go to the Alps?" She looked up from her plate. "You don't like it that cold." He shrugged his shoulders. "I will survive." A smile crept onto her face.

She had wanted to spend new years in the Alps for a few years, but had repeatedly indulged Fernando's, and her own, love for warmth and had returned to sunnier places. Him suggesting, offering even, to spend a week in the high altitudes made her feel giddy.

She took a sip from her cup, smiling silently. They had talked about getting engaged, both thinking that they were far enough into their relationship and secure enough for the next step. This meant that Fernando might plan a proposal, either around Christmas while visiting his family, or over the year change.

"I would like that, if you're really okay with it." Fernando waved his hand. "Can go skiing and cook a lot, will be nice." After that, they continued their breakfast until Fernando looked back at her.

"What do you want to do in the morning?" They had planned a get-together with their friends for the evening, but for now they were free. She shrugged her shoulders. "Just want time with you." All the time they spend together was precious, his career often separating them. "We can stay a bit and then maybe go to the harbour. Maybe drive out a bit." Fernando nodded, always up for a bit of boat driving.

After standing up and refilling their plates from the stove, a mischievous grin took over his face. "How does it feel? One year older?"

She rolled her eyes. "We talked about this, I'm getting wiser. Just as you are." Fernando chuckled lightly. She picked up a bit of food and chewed it before muttering, "And a bit older."

Silence settled over breakfast, broken only by a remark here or there. After they finished, Fernando took on the cleaning duties. She walked up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her chin on his shoulders. "Thank you, this was really sweet."

Fernando shook his head lightly.  "Everything for you, mi vida." He put the plaid he was washing on the drying rag and wiped his hands dry, before turning around in her arms. "On your birthday and every other day, we are together." He leaned in, kissing her. "I love you." It was her instinctual response. The smile on her face was mirrored by the one on his. "Te amo también."

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Heyy!! first of all your writing is SO GOOD i have come across an amazing writer such as yourself in a long long time. I was wondering if you could write something for remus lupin with the promt 44 in the list? probably like co-workers to lovers kind of a thing. i love him sm i wish he were real ( not that i'd have a chance but still ). THANK YOU SM <33 LOTS OF LOVE

STOP IT, you're making me blush!! You’re so sweet, and I appreciate you taking the time to tell me that—you’ve officially made my day!!

ivy's 1k celebration ❄️ navigation ❄️ prompt list

ˋ°•*⁀➷ REMUS LUPIN #44: "Tell me three reasons why I should put up with you." "Well, for starters, I'm cute."

You leaned against the staffroom door, your eyes locked on the brooding figure hunched over a pile of essays. The quill in Remus Lupin’s hand moved furiously, his brows furrowed in concentration. Honestly, he looked a bit like a kicked puppy—a really cute, endearingly grumpy puppy.

"Oi, Lupin." You sauntered in, plopping into the chair opposite him. "You look like you’re grading the downfall of humanity, not essays."

Without looking up, he muttered, "If you'd read this one, you’d think the same."

You laughed, the sound bright in the dull, parchment-scented room. "Careful, Professor Lupin, your grumpiness is showing."

Remus sighed, finally meeting your gaze, his tired eyes tinged with exasperation. "Some of us take our work seriously."

"And some of us," you shot back with a smirk, "know how to have fun while doing it. You should try it sometime—fun, I mean. It’s delightful."

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he caught himself. "Why are you here, anyway? I thought you were done for the day."

"I was," you said, leaning forward conspiratorially, "but I heard you were holed up here, looking like a medieval monk. Thought I’d check on you."

"How thoughtful," he deadpanned, though the faintest blush dusted his cheeks.

You grinned, knowing you were getting to him. "You’re welcome. Now, I demand your attention for at least five minutes."

"Why?" he asked, tilting his head and raising a brow.

"Because I’m adorable," you quipped, twirling a strand of hair.

"Debatable," he shot back, though his cheeks flushed pinker.

"Rude," you gasped, clutching your chest like he'd just insulted your honor. "You wound me, Lupin."

His lips curved into the tiniest smile, and you knew you had him.

"Fine," he said, sitting back and crossing his arms. "You want my attention? Tell me three reasons why I should put up with you."

You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand, your smirk growing. "Well, for starters, I’m cute."

"Debatable," he repeated, but his voice was softer, teasing.

"And second," you continued, ignoring him, "I make your dull, miserable days brighter with my sparkling wit and charm."

His eyes rolled, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching.

"And third," you finished with a dramatic sigh, "you secretly like me and would miss me terribly if I stopped bothering you."

For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes studying you like you were one of his more perplexing students. You felt your pulse quicken, the usual banter hanging in the air like a question left unanswered.

Then he smiled—small and shy, but genuine—and looked down at the essays in front of him.

"You’re insufferable," he said, but there was no heat behind it.

"You’re blushing, Lupin," you teased, your grin widening.

"I’m not," he mumbled, his ears now undeniably red.

"Oh, you are. I win."

"Win what?" he asked, glancing up at you again.

"Whatever this is," you said, motioning between the two of you.

"Well," he said softly, "if this is winning, I think I’m alright with losing."

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in. Was Remus Lupin—grumpy, shy, always-buried-in-books Remus Lupin—flirting with you?

"Careful, Lupin," you said, leaning back in your chair, though your voice was softer now. "You keep talking like that, and I might start to think you like me."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and for the first time, he didn’t deny it.

[rubyboobidoo]

not tryna make you jealous, but it looks so good on you | sofia gigante x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW, dom sofia (obvi), hair pulling, degradation+praise, spanking, thigh riding, just absolute FILTH 18+

A/N: this took me too long smh but i think it was worth it

it can’t be easy, running an entire empire that is. you know sofia appreciates you being her doting and understanding girlfriend, always by her side, always good for her. but lately, it’s been too much. all the late nights and days spent without so much as a kiss from her leave you worried and ever so desperate. it’s not like you’re asking for much, just a little bit of attention.

when you first noticed the revealing dress sofia had gifted you at the back of your closet, you knew exactly what to do. the plan was simple — wear it around the falcone residence until she finally noticed her mistake. you were confident it would get the reaction you wanted. until she saw you, her face twisted into a furious scowl. before you could react, she grabbed your arm and marched you straight into the nearest bedroom, the tension in the air palpable.

sofia struts to where you stand in the room, the haunting click of her heals on the floor following her. she circles around you, her hands skimming over the silk dress. it's funny how such a garment can cause such a fuss. "now, let's get one thing straight" she stops, hands lingering at your hips "all this" she purrs as her eyes scan your figure "is mine. understood?"

you decide to push her further, "i don't follow. all i'm doing is showing off what you bought me, baby." you sway, drawing attention to the fabric - or lack there of - on your body.

sofia's eyes narrow, her grip tightening on your hips as she yanks you close. "you think you’re being clever, hmm?" she hisses, her breath hot against your neck “playing games in front of my men?"

with one hand on your hip she raises the other to your head, grabbing a fist full of hair.

she watches with satisfaction as your eyes well with tears from the shock. "this dress, this body, this pretty little mouth of yours... all mine to do with as i please.”

one hand slides up your side, fingertips tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest just below your collarbone. "this dress... should be a reminder of who you belong to." her other hand tangles in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat.

her grip in your hair tightens, just shy of painful. "over my lap. now." sofia releases you abruptly, stepping back to sit at the edge of her bed. "don't keep me waiting, sweetheart. i'm not a patient woman.” she taps her fingers impatiently against her thigh, staring through you as she restlessly awaits your response.

your chest tightens with fear of what she'll do next, but you don't move. instead, you stay still, pushing her further.

“god, must i do everything myself?" she snaps, rising from the bed. in one swift motion, she grabs your arm, yanking you toward her. you gasp falling into her lap forcing air out of your lungs and causing your dress to ride up.

the cool air leaves goosebumps over your thighs and sofia leaves little time for you to collect yourself before binging her hand down against your rear.

"count them out." she demands coldly. her hand comes down again as you wrangle a muffled 'one' from the back of your throat.

sofia continues her assault, filling the room with the echoed sound of skin on skin. you stop fighting the tears several slaps ago, letting them flow freely down your face as your flesh becomes increasingly red.

satisfied with her work, sofia pauses, her hand resting on your lower back. "good girl," she murmurs, her tone almost affectionate. you allow yourself to bask in the praise before uttering a small "thank you."

sofia shuffles back towards the headboard of the bed, smirking as she signals you to move with her. she watches in satisfaction as you crawl towards her, tapping her thigh with her slender finger as if to say “take a seat”.

you can feel her taking in the sight of you - the heat of her gaze on your skin. moving to straddle her leg, you realise how embarrassingly wet you had become.

sofia's lips curl into a hungry grin as she watches you crawl toward her. eyes raking over your figure, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks, damp from tears.

“you wanted my attention and now you have it, princess.” she growls, her voice low and dangerous.

you know what she wants you to do - make a mess, give her a show. but your mind was too fuzzy and you just couldn’t seem to make your hips move. instead, you lean in for a kiss.

sofia allows it, letting your lips clashing against each other as you whine into the kiss.

you a pitiful whine as she breaks the kiss, your breath coming in harsh pants. she bring her gaze down to where your heat meets her tight-clad thigh. “need a hand?” she teased, cocking her head.

she watches you eagerly nod and with that, she takes ahold of your hips, digging her nails into your flesh through the thin silk.

there’s something so jarring about being so bare before your fully clothed girlfriend but it’s all worth it for the friction that sends sparks of pleasure up your spine.

at a steady pace she guides your hips up and down her thigh. her feeling is torturous, delicious but leaving so much more to be desired.

you bite your lip to stifle a moan, your embarrassment palpable. she loves you like this - eager, desperate for more.

she leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers “poor baby,” her voice laced with sarcasm “so desperate for my attention yet too shy to make all those pretty little noises.”

"sofia," you moan, arching further into her thigh.

"ah ah," sofia tuts, slowing her movement completely. "i didn't say you could move, did i?"

she hooks a finger under the strap of your dress, tugging it down to expose more of your skin. "i love seeing you like this," she breathes, her lips trailing down your neck. "squirming and whimpering, all for me."

“only you.” you breathe, maybe if you appease her she’ll give you what you so desperately need.

“please, baby” you beg, hips bucking up in the desperate search for more traction “i need it.”

"since you asked so nicely," she growls pulling her lips from your skin.

sofia returns her hands to your hips, grinding you against her thigh with expert precision. the friction is incredible, building the tension coiling in your core.

she grips your hips tighter, her nails digging into your flesh as she grinds you harder against her thigh. sofia relishes the debauched sight of you - chest heaving from sporadic breaths, shaking legs tensing around her thigh, hazy eyes brimmed with tears of pleasure.

she quickens her pace as she notices you coming further undone. you can feel it building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter “come on, baby,” sofia urges, her voice low and encouraging. “let go, princess. give me what i want.”

her words in your ear are enough to send you tumbling over the edge. a wave of pleasure crashes over you as sofia draws out every last shudder and gasp.

she pulls back, a satisfied smirk on her face. “what an awful girlfriend i am, hmm?” she tenderly brushes a stray her from your forehead “letting my girl get all needy.”

you pout and joking nod in agreement “the worst.” you chuckle. with the little strength you have left, you shift your weight from her thigh.

“i don’t remember saying i was done with you, sweetheart.” sofia threatens. rather than protest, you steadily lower yourself between her legs, looking up at her through eager eyes.

“who said i was going anywhere?”

[yelenasdiary]

Hello…I didn’t expect to make this request, but I didn’t know who else to turn to, and you’re the most active writer I’ve followed for so long that is still around. (And I’m happy for that, sincerely)

Well, before I request something, let me explain why. I…I’m saying goodbye. (Not that way, don’t worry) I’m saying goodbye…to the fandom…specifically, to reading Natasha x reader fics. I tried for a while to hope for fics where Reader was more of the knight in shining armor, masc presenting woman, or the top in the relationship, but…well, that didn’t happen much. And I’m not bashing on anyone for writing reader as more of the opposite. Not at all, everyone is entitled to write how they want to write….but I can’t just keep coming here and continue to see it be the same troupe. And no matter how much I request for one (and when requests are asked and open) it never happens, and instead it’s something else I didn’t request. So…I think it’s best for me to bid farewell. I cant force writers to write what I want, that’s not how it works. It’s a dick move

Here’s what I want to ask…for my final Natasha x reader fic request:

Reader is a soldier for the United States Air Force. Natasha has been busy as an Avenger. Reader, on leave, tried to spend time with Natasha but was always met with rain checks. On top of that, Natasha has always treated reader as the frail, need to protect, girlfriend, and reader always made it clear she wasn’t much for the pillow process type.

Anyways, reader decides to re-enlist for another deployment and begin a new life, maybe somewhere in Germany I don’t know. But, as she’s packing to leave is when Natasha FINALLY decides to give her the time of day….but it’s too late.

Reader sits Natasha down and says along the lines this, “I’m not the person you want…and we’ve just become different people and are pursuing different things….” She’d go on about how as much as she loves Natasha, she can’t be the partner she expects of her. She’s tired of being made out to be this woman that’s made to be the trophy wife or something like that. That she should find someone who can connect and click with her. Be her true soulmate.

Natasha is heartbroken and wants to fix things. Not expecting this at all. Pleading for a second chance but reader stands her ground. No tears shed, but she’s not cold to her either. Reader leaves, Natasha follows her all the way to the airport, tries one last time but reader doesn’t give in….she bids the redhead farewell…and thanks her for the memories that were amazing. She wishes nothing but happiness for her and a happy life.

…that’s it. Write it, toss it away, it’s fine. I’m just going to leave this here, do with it what you want.

Thanks for the fics you made, specifically the ones where you portrayed reader as the knight in shining armor.

Signing off.

A Final Goodbye

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Masc! Reader

Summary: You take a step back and do what is best for you, and Natasha. 

Angst, Comfort

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this in, I am sorry to hear that you’re leave and I do hope that you’re still around to read this. I do apologise for it taking me a while to get it out, I also just want to say that I do not consider myself a masc lesbian so I do apologise in advance if anything in this is not giving that representation. Rest assured, this is Reader being the lead in this. I hope you enjoy x

You took a deep breath as you zipped up the last duffel bag, feeling the weight of your decision settle across your shoulders. Your small apartment almost empty, leaving most of your belongings in storage. Carefully, you placed the duffle bag with the others before taking a moment to gather your thoughts. 

It had been playing on your mind for a while now, keeping you up at night while you tossed and turned endlessly, wishing things were different but too much had changed over time. You tried to spend time with her, but you only met with rain checks or last-minute cancellations. You missed her but you couldn’t stop thinking about the drift between you two. 

Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, the woman you fell for. At first, things were great, you both were on the same page and were very much in the ‘honeymoon’ phase almost every day but like all couples, there were things that you would argue about and there were plenty of things that made you both frustrated. One thing you couldn’t understand was why Nat would consistently treat you like a frail and need to be protected girlfriend. As much as you loved that she cared for you, you hated being treated like a pillow princess. It wasn’t you. 

You didn’t need saving; you didn’t need protecting. You needed somebody who understood you and loved you for you. You always made it clear to Natasha that the pillow princess type wasn’t you at all, you always reminded her that you didn’t need her to protect you from every little thing, after all, you were a soldier. But something about being firm with her just didn’t stick. So, you made the decision to re-enlist for another deployment, making sure that the next time you returned, things would be different. Not just for you but for Natasha as well. 

Natasha knocked softly on the door; it was time. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle, meeting her soft green eyes for the first time in weeks. Her famous red locks still damp from the rain outside, her expression a mix of relief and uncertainty. 

“Hey,” she said softly, her eyes locking with yours. 

You couldn’t help the soft smile that pulled on your lips, “Hey, I’m glad you could come” you replied, opening the door wider for her. 

 “I’m so glad you’re still here. I… I thought you might be gone already.” She said softly, her eyes darting to the small pile of duffle bags. 

“I leave tomorrow” you replied, watching as Nat turned around to face you once more. “Can we talk, please?” She asked, her gaze locked onto you. “I want to give you time to talk but I really need you to listen to me first” you said as you gestured that the two of you take a seat. Natasha let out a soft sigh, deep down she knew she wasn’t leaving your apartment the same woman she came as. 

The two of you took a seat at the dining table, the cold surface somehow bringing a little comfort to you in this moment as you gently reached for Natasha’s hand. You looked into her eyes for a moment, taking in the beauty she held. 

“I love you so much, I always will but I need to honest with you, with us. This isn’t so much about the fact our schedules suck and the rain check are rain check. This is about us and how I’m not the person you want” you paused for a moment, taking a deep breath in before continuing. “We’ve become different people. We’re pursuing different things and different dreams. I can’t be the partner you expect of me. I’m tired of you only seeing me as this fragile person who needs to protect. I’m a soldier, I’m in the air force. I can hold my own and I want to be respected for that” you added. 

“Detka, I do respect you. You’re everything to me, I don’t mean to make you feel like that….I just, I care about you so, so much but I can’t deal with the thought if something were to happen to you” Natasha pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes.

You smiled softly, trying to keep your own tears from building up, “I know you respect me Nat, but, when you’re around others, you’re not the same. We go from being one to two different people and somehow, you think I’m the one who needs to protected and treated differently….” You paused for a moment, your thumb stroking her soft skin. “We both know that love is such a big, beautiful and powerful thing. It means a lot of things and one of those things is knowing when to let go. You deserve somebody who can give you everything you want, but we know deep down it’s not me” you added. 

A silence fell between you both, Natasha’s face falling, her defenses crumbling as you continued. “I want you to find happiness, even if that means without me. You deserve it.”

“But… what if we can work it out? I can be better, I promise” Natasha said, pleading, her voice breaking as her tears began to fall freely down her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry Nat, but it’s too late. I need a fresh start, and I think you need one too”

Natasha’s expression shifted from desperation to heartbreak as she nodded at your words. Wiping her tears on the sleeve of her shirt, she stood up. “I don’t want to hold you back” she said softly, barely able to look into your eyes. You stood up from your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat as she reached out to hug you one last time. 

“Please be safe” she whispered, “and write to me whenever you’re ready” she added, hugging you tightly. You hugged her back, allowing yourself to feel the love she has for you one last time, hugging her just as tightly back. “I promise” you replied in the same soft whisper. 

As you two parted, you smiled softly at her, hoping it would somehow ease her broken heart a little. “I know this wasn’t what you expected but I want you to know that all the memories we share and the time we had, it was beautiful, and I will forever cherish them. I want nothing but love and happiness for you, don’t hold yourself back from find another love. Be happy Nat, you deserve that” you said.

To your surprise the redhead returned a soft smile, “I will always love you” she spoke ever so gently. 

“And I will always love you” you replied. 

Natasha turned, and headed for the door. You watched her leave, closing the door gently behind her, taking with her a piece of your heart. You took a moment for yourself, part of you broken from the words shared but the other half excited knowing a new chapter awaited. The memories of Natasha would always be with you, reminding you that love can be found again.

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[ts-janus-rp-blog]

Janus yelped at the slap, but he continued to hold firm in his bite. He shook his head while biting the hand, hoping to draw some blood. And he was holding firm...until he was kicked. The first kick didn't do much to him, but when the man landed a kick on his stomach he coughed and choked. He landed on the ground, groaning and holding his stomach. But, his eyes widened upon seeing the muzzle, he tried to scoot away from the man. "Stop it! No! Leave me alone!" He stood up and rushed over to Roman. He snarled as he tried to undo the knots holding Roman in place. "Come on, come on! Why won't these come loose!"

"You weren't allowed to have beer?" Remus huffed, "Your old master must've been very boring if he didn't even let you have some beer. Even I let Janus have a few sips every so often. Oh? You think so too?" He chuckled, "It may be more expensive, but it's worth it, don't you think? There's also some whiskey in there. You want to try whiskey?"

But then he paused at pattons questions, he sucked in a deep breath. "Ugh... Fine... Alright... I don't think you're cursed though. If anything, I'd say you're lucky. Your last master was a piece of shit if he didn't even let you have a few sips of beer. So, think of him as you traded an old hand for a better one. You traded that shit for better shit that...under unfortunate circumstances he hasn't been traded a good hand. But that's alright! Once we save him you'll get to have your better hand back! And so will he! But..."

Remus sighed as he moved to sit on the floor so he wouldn't have to keep bending down to talk to Patton anymore. "I guess...I should save my brother... But fuck... I'm just...tired of him..." He rubbed his eyes, "My entire life I've had to take care of his ass. I guess thinking of him being out of my hair for just a little while...sounds kinda nice, honestly... Despite how shitty that sounds... Like... I love him... But he relies on me too much. You get what I'm talking about? Eh... Probably not." He took a sip of his beer. "But it's worth a shot I guess..."

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2