bweoo

[gonnabeokaykid]

do you all realize how important this season of heartstopper actually is?

Do you realize how incredible important it is for people to actually see the "loved ones" deal and not just the ill (as important as they are to highlight and embrace. this season really found such a wonderful balance)

do you all realize how many people are sitting alone in their rooms, researching their ass off trying to find ways to support and help the people that they love who are sick? and how many also never find any resources on how it is to take care of yourself WHEN you are trying to take care of someone who is sick?

i can count on multiple fingers where i felt overwhelmed and like the worst person in the world for not being able to fix it, to not get people to eat, to not get people to harm, to not feel selfish if i tried to protect my own peace every once in a while - and feeling so alone because you feel like there are no space for how You are feeling about everything going on.

When i say i Bawled when Nick got a shoulder to cry on this season will be the biggest understatement in the history of the world.

just know - there are so many loved ones, friends, co-workers who see you, love you, want to support you, and that are doing their very best. We do our best to find the balance, and sometimes need the grace and the space to breathe so we can continue to be there for you.

anyway, this is a gold star for all of charlie's loved ones - and everyone else trying their best to care for someone they love.

[nobumebungaku]

the very last day of hyorotto danshi (part one) in celebration of umehara/nishiyama duo radio comeback

[lilgynt]

what if i got home from work and immediately had to do stuff for the house/my dad till 1 am then went to sleep so hard i didn’t dream then went back to work huh. what if that happened

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Sunshine

Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite

monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc

A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur

. so

. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter

. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart

. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being

. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house

. the rest of the leclercs know this

. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005

. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl

. now at first

. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this

. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere

. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?

. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first

. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later

. he knew he’d love you no matter what

. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are

. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed

. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted

. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you

. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races

. something that didn’t happen until you were 3

. shows you off to all of his friends at said races

. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”

. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”

. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life

. first day of school

. the first time you drove a kart

. when you learned how to ride a bike

. etcetera

. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything

. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you

. because no matter how busy he gets

. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself

. finding your own personality and hobbies

. interests and dislikes

. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old

. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless

. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi

. your older brother loves when you come with him to races

. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him

. because he knows you love jules

. he’s like another brother to you

. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)

. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with

. the one that taught you everything you know about cars

. the one that taught you to always dream for more

. the one that taught you what grief felt like

. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock

. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened

. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”

. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most

. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’

. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours

. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships

. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household

. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016

. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere

. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside

. it almost gives him hope

. almost

. because by 2017, charles is nervous

. because herve is getting worse

. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid

. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better

. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him

. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do

. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital

. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things

. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth

. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017

. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again

. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this

. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision

. this time, you don’t let anybody help you

. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat

. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood

. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that

. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night

. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless

. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself

. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk

. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him

. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms

. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time

. but charles is there for every step of the way

. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in

. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles

. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are

. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level

. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl

. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match

. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives

. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to

. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now

. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father

. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars

. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him

. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage

. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you

. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes

. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have

. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will

. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend

. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays

. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb

. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life

. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage

. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to

. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years

. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue

. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career

. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up

. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands

. you assure him that you will though

. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not

. you’ll always be rooting for him

. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too

. because you’re his little sister

. and he loves you more than you know

[luimagines]

Maybe a scenario where the chain is female hero's Era and they meet her era's link which is her little brother of like 6 and she confesses that the quest was actually for him.

LITTLE LINK!?!!?!?!? MY LOVE, MY LIFE, MY SON!?!? ABSOLUTELY!!!! XD

Everybody get ready for more Lucky. I will never have enough of this boy. ^.^*

Side note: Reader is written as Gender Neutral per the rules of the blog, but this isn't really about them anyway. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

"Just a little closer." You say under your breath as you push aside the surrounding foliage. You step into a well beaten path. there's roots sticking out of it and the dirt is bare and dry, but you know that it's safe to travel along and that it'll take you straight to your destination.

"We've been walking for hours." Legend groans. "Are we there yet?"

"Almost." You hold the branch open for the others to pass through.

"This Link of yours must be a pain in neck to get to if his lives this far out into the middle of nowhere." Hyrule spits out a leaf.

You snort, keeping it vague for the sake of keeping him safe. They'll know the truth soon enough and frankly, you're scared to see the aftermath. "It's just up the path."

"Finally!"

"Come on! Let's go!" Wind cheers and takes off running, following swiftly by Wild, Wolfie and Four.

You try to keep a leisurely pace, knowing you're going to need all the energy you can reserve for when you arrive. You want to run just as much as the others, but you know better.

Time seems to have caught on and gently smacks your shoulder. "You never said how you happened to meet him."

"I didn't?" You smile, playing it coy. "Strange."

"This is it?" Four asks with a skeptical look.

Just beyond the hill is a run down cottage. There's holes in the roof and the fence is broken in many areas. The forest and meadows around it are about to over take the small house and return the woods of its skeleton back to where they came from.

You try to hold back a bitter smile and the way your heart swells at the familiar sight. You pat Four on the shoulder and keep walking towards the cottage. Putting your fingers to your mouth, you let out a shrill whistle and keep walking.

A beat passes, setting the young men behind you on edge before the door of the cottage all but bursts open. You can feel some of the boys reach for their weapons but they hesitate when you start hollering in excitement.

Your calls are answered back by a small body that comes running out of the cottage at full speed. It comes out like a shot and b-lines for you with the intent to tackle. You catch the familiar mop of blond hair and laugh, peppering the small boy with kisses and tickles.

The group behind you is stunned.

"Bubbah! You're home! You're home!" The child cries.

You smile, getting a little teary as you hold the child closer. "I get to stay for a little bit this time before I travel again. I wanted you to meet some friends of mine. They've been very excited to meet you."

The little boy looks over your shoulder and gasp, a bright grin covering his face. "New people! Hello! Welcome to my house!"

You set him down with a proud smile as he runs to the Chain. He stops in front of them, holding his hand out like the polite gentleman he's growing up to be. "My name is Link, what's yours?"

Twilight bites the bullet and kneels to his level, shaking his hand. "Why- My name is Link too! It's great to meet you!"

You sighs and look back to the house. Your grandmother must still be inside. Age has not been kind to her.

The introductions are going on behind as your brother gets more and more amused that they all share the same name. He laughs, bright and joyfully and still the child you've fought so hard to keep. "No wonder you wanted to meet me too!"

"Yeah.... That's why." Legend clenches his jaw in a tight smile. He catches it quickly, the mark of the Triforce of Courage already on his little hand. Legend points to his hand to show that he has the same mark. "You have that too?"

Link, your brother, nods and proudly shows it off. "Bubbah says it's because I'm special. They had to leave home after it showed up though. They saved me from the monsters and told me to take care of grandma."

"Then I'm sure you're doing an incredible job." Time says gently. "That mark is special. I'm sure your grandma is very proud."

Warrior makes it a point to step aside, roughly grabbing your arm as he speaks in a hushed voice. "What is the meaning of this?"

"This is my home." You try to keep the growl out of your voice. "Link is my brother."

"Tell me you're joking."

"I wouldn't be the one traveling with you if I was."

"Bubbah!" Link calls for your attention. "Can they stay for dinner?!"

You slap a grin onto your face and wave back to him. "That was the plan, short stack! You mind going to tell grandma we have company?"

"Oh yeah!" He grins and runs back to the house right as your grandmother has reached the door. She sees you and sighs of relief that you've returned safe and sound.

You wave from where you are and blow her a kiss. You try not to look at the other boys around you.

You can feel them staring holes into you head as it is.

This is going to be a long story.

[burstinn]

OBSESSIVE

Obsessed! König x Male! Reader

Warnings and notes:

You have been kidnapped

No proofreading again lazy writing

Bad German/ some words are translated

Mentioning that you are just an ordinary guy that works in a cafe. Lee mao

You had a breakdown and are now unresponsive to König. Though the breakdown is not mentioned you are unresponsive now.

"Du bist mein Mann"

König would whisper in your ear, slowly caressing your face lovingly. He didn't care if you cried or screamed, he didn't care if you denied your love for him.

You are his Husband.

And you would learn that soon, you better learn it soon.

He would leave you in his basement for God knows how long. He hid you down here ever since.. He took you..

°°°

You are a normal man really. You work at a small Cafe inthe suburbs as an asisstant manager. You go to the grocers every Friday. You would greet the old lady to help her with her chores everytime you could.

You had a routine, you had a normal life.

Until he came, König he called himself.

"Ahh.. E.. Es Tut.. Mer.. I'm sorry are you closed?"

Though he looked and sounded intimidating, His eyes looked very.. Meek and nervous when you first met him.

König was wearing all dark clothes that day, a hoodie and mask covering his face. His towering figure over the counter almost scared you off into saying 'yes we're closed'. Maybe you should've just said you were closed. So you wouldn't be in this situation. Locked up under this house.

"Oh! No no don't worry! You can order don't worry. You can be my last customer"

You could only see a small shine of happiness and relief in his eyes when you said you were still open. You should've just told him to fuck off..

It was already tiring to clean the equipment and floors and after making his order you had to reclean in again. Past work hours. You should've left hours ago. But you decided to be nice that day... Why.

"I'm sorry.. How much should I pay?"

"It's okay, it's on the house.. You can have your order for free"

You smiled at him.

And that's when he would come over to the cafe.. Every time. He almost became a regular.

But König had strange breaks in between.

It would be 2 weeks, 6 months, 3 months, and 1 year.

He would never explain why, but you shouldn't really ask.. It's none of your business anyway.

You would simply put on a smile at him everytime, cheerily greeting him and already asking him if he was gonna have his same order.

Hell, you even just saved a room for him. A corner in the store, it's obvious by his first meeting he was an anxious man. And you felt for him so everytime maybe to ease him a bit.

You would always strike up a conversation. Even if he doesn't answer, you would talk.

And he eventually did start engaging in conversations. Slowly but surely he would become more lively around you.

He would ask you would answer, you would ask he would answer as well. It was good.

You even had a reason why he had strange long breaks in between visits to the cafe. Apparently, he is a Colonel of a military. What an interesting man, knows how to shout orders but can't speak properly when ordering something?

It was good. Life was good.

You had known König for long enough that you have his number, know his address and know everything about his simple interest.

So does he, even something simple you mentioned he would know. Even if you didn't remember you said that. It impressed you.

He would send you gifts even when he was still in his job in the military. One time he walked in wearing his uniform. Imagine your surprise when it was König, all wide eyed and mouth agape.

"Oh.. Hi! Uhm.. What's your order?"

"Hallo! I'll have my usual, bitte"

"... ", " König..?"

"Ja? Ich bin König!"

"OH MY GOD"

It was funny, he would even do it at times.. But it was obvious he would only do it just to tease you or make fun of you or something.

You would visit his house at times, funnily he would still cover his face around you.. Even though you were friends for like 7 or 8 years?

He even taught you some German.

You'd hang out with each other out of work if König or you had matching schedules to even hang out.

So you guys both plan ahead, never missing any hang outs. Lest one of you got an emergency call.

°°°

It was nice.. Simple.

You got a new friend, and you had a routine life.

All of that stopped when you got a text from König that he would be gone to the military for a few months. Of course you were saddened by that of course you sent your sad faces and good lucks.

Making your way to work, getting bombarded with customers. And annoyingly, having to fix a machine by yourself while you tell the rest of the employees to go home for the night. Really it just decided to break when it was way past the time to get home? Having to stay over work time once again really ticks people off. Especially when you don't get paid for your overtime.

Atleast the whole place was clean. You just needed to fix the machine, and it took about... You stayed there for 1.5 hours trying to fix it. Fucking dammit, An angry smashing of the plates and tables was an order but you were to tired to do any of that. Instead you make sure everything is in check before closing the lights, getting your stuff and locking the place up.

Fucking finally. You can go home and rest..

Walking your way back should've been simple, you should've been safe this was a tight knit community. Everyone knew everyone, even new comers. No one would try anything but you had to be the one.

All was well til you felt gloved hands grab you from behind. Shoving you hard against the ground, covering your mouth as they blindfolded you and gagged your mouth

Someone should've heard you, especially when you managed to slip away and ran for a few miles before getting caught again. Being dragged back to the dark..

"Bitte, es tut mer leid.. It's okay"

Imagine the betrayal, you stop struggling looking behind you to see your friend. Dragging you to his car and shoving you inside.. Not before tying you up. All the while apologizing and trying to explain something.

Not like you were listening, all that mattered was the fact you were being kidnapped by your best friend.

°°°

"Leibing, I'm back"

2 clicks then loud thuds coming from the stairs as he makes his way down to the makeshift room König prepared for you. A bed, a small bathroom, a small kitchen with all the supplies you needed. No knives, König was smart enough to think you would try to kill him.. But worse yourself. He can defend himself easily from you.

Especially that one time you managed to break off a piece from the cabinet and trying to stab him.

He made sure to lock you down here longer.

He's not a monster though. He knows you have a system to do things so every twice a week he would bring you outside. Monitored.

If he was out on his job, he would just open a makeshift window for you to bask in the sun while he was away.

He would always stock your food, even giving you snacks.

He gave you a T. V, books, magazines, small toys and games to keep yourself entertained.

He bought you new clothes, he brought you gifts from his travels.

"Liebe? Are you hiding?"

Peek around the corner. There you are. You're curled up in a ball. Tired and emotionless as usual.

"You haven't been sleeping again, have you?"

He walks over to you, wrapping you in his arms

" Ich liebe dich so sehr.. You know that right?"

"It's why I did this.. es ist für dich"

You don't answer

You stopped answering just a few weeks ago

König missed your old personality, where was the cheerful you? The one who would strike up the conversation first.

But König knew why, He knew the consequences way back when he planned on doing this.

He planned this for so long to have you.

He could live with the changes, He could live with the fact that you probably hate him now.

Stockholm Syndrome was his hope of you loving him back, but he knew it would take a while. He can be patient, he waited long enough.

He cupped your face, lifting up his hood slightly to give you a loving kiss.

You stopped fighting back as well.

"Ich kann auf dich warten"

[celestialglow24]

•••Promise Me•••

Frank Castle x AFAB reader

You finally see Frank again after months of being apart with no explanation.

hi friends. more Frank angst because this man has taken over my mind lately and i think you all should suffer with me. please enjoy xx

The walk back home from the restaurant wasn’t too bad of a trek. You had convinced yourself it’d be alot faster than waiting around for an uber, or bothering your cousin at 12 am to come down there and pick you up.

Was it wise? Probably not. But the multiple shots of liquid courage—fueled with the desire to take a long hot shower—gave you a sense of confidence no one would have been able to shake.

So you said your goodbyes to the group you were with, telling them a little white lie that your ride was here, and began walking home.

As the loud street music and bustling noise of downtown nightlife started to fade, that confidence began to wane.

It was really quiet out here, and no one was around from what you could tell. You could see the sign for a park a little ways ahead and that managed to level your nerves.

Your cousin’s apartment wasn’t too far from there and if you kept at the pace you were moving, you could get there in 10 minutes or so.

God you hated wearing heels. You’d yet to find a pair that didn’t make you want to cut off your feet and curse the ground after only a couple of hours of use.

There was a part of you that was half tempted to take them off and walk the rest of the way barefoot, but after already passing several broken bottles along the street, you decided you didn’t want to chance a night in the ER.

All things considered you were proud of yourself for going out tonight. It had been months since you’d done anything besides: work, sleep, eat, repeat.

Save for a few weekends now and then of binge watching a true crime doc with your cousin Lucy or a trip to the dog park with her dog Penny, you hardly allowed yourself any time to relax.

Anything to avoid your mind having the opportunity to think of him. To think of your past.

So when your coworker invited you out with people from your department to celebrate their recent promotion, you decided to let yourself enjoy a night out. You felt you had earned it.

You hadn’t been working for the company very long, but you got along with everyone pretty well. It was nice of them to include you.

It was certainly more fun than you expected to have but after your brain had tried multiple times to convince you that you’d seen someone that wasn’t there—someone who you hadn’t seen in months—you knew it was time to go.

6 months.

6 months and you still searched for him in a room full of people.

It was pathetic.

Even now, as you walked the nearly empty streets you felt him. You didn’t know how— and despite logic and reason battling with these inexplicable feelings— it still felt like you could sense his presence.

Yeah, this had to be the alcohol talking.

You tightened your trenchcoat around your torso in an effort to self soothe and offered a half smile to the few people you walked by on your way toward the park.

As you rounded the sidewalk, you pulled your phone out to text your cousin that you’d be home any minute. She was probably already sleeping but you wanted to give her the heads up anyway.

Anything to avoid her attacking you with a broom like she did the one time you got home late from work.

Just as you went to tuck your phone back in your coat pocket it slipped out of your hand, landing on the ground face down with a loud crack.

“Fuck” you cried, bending down to asses the damage. Thankfully you had a screen protector, so the actual screen was fine. But man you had done a number on it. The uneven cracks that splintered the screen made it difficult to read the time and notifications.

As you rose from your squatting position, you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye ducking behind a car across the street.

You felt your stomach drop.

Slowly… you stood up taller, squaring your shoulders and trying to steady your breathing. You calmly reached for the front clasp of your clutch, thanking any god or the universe that you managed to stow your taser earlier that night.

You chose not to make any sudden movements. Instead you waited. You waited for so long you were starting to question if you had seen anything at all. Maybe you misunderstood and it was the alcohol messing with your senses.

But when you saw the tip of a black hoodie through the window of the car you knew you weren’t losing it.

“Who’s there?” you shouted.

No response.

“Listen,” your voice shook, “I’m about 10 seconds away from dialing 911 so if you’re not interested in explaining to the cops why you’re sneaking up on -”

“Ain’t no need for all that.” You heard a voice call back.

Your breath stilled. As soon as the voice hit you, it was like the ground beneath you had been ripped away. You didn’t even feel like you were in your own body anymore.

You dug your nails into your palm, trying to startle yourself awake. Surely you had to be dreaming.

But when the figure stood and faced you, their hood falling back to reveal their face, you couldn’t deny what you were seeing.

There were so many emotions swelling inside you at once. Disbelief, disappointment, anger and relief.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel so many things at once.

Perhaps the most compelling was the realization that despite everything, you still felt love. So much love that it made you feel weak.

It almost made you forget everything that’s happened.

The feelings of abandonment. The nights of endless tears. The calls and messages that would never seem to go through.

Feelings of confusion. Of constantly wondering what you did wrong.

Questioning if any of it was ever as real to him as it was to you.

You could almost forget it all. Run right across the street into his arms. Hug him and kiss him over and over. Tell him how much you missed him. How much you need him. How much you forgive him if you could just be together again.

But as quickly as those thoughts teased your mind, the feelings of anger and betrayal enveloped you like an unrelenting wave.

You couldn’t allow the love you felt to erase the hell you’ve endured. You wouldn’t.

So you swallowed the tears that threatened to spill and turned away, making bigger strides to get back to your cousin’s apartment.

You could hear him shout your name but you kept moving.

He must have crossed the street because you could hear him calling directly behind you.

You didn’t stop. You didn’t say a word. You just kept moving.

Choosing to run was just plain stupid, but it was your only resort to get away fast.

Not only was it stupid because your feet hurt like hell and you were risking a face plant any second, but it was stupid because he was the fucking punisher.

Any attempt to try and outrun him was pointless. He’d be able to catch you before you could even finish your next thought.

“Hey!” he yelled, finally catching up to you and grabbing your arm. “Just hold up would you?”

“No!” you shouted, yanking yourself out of his grasp. You took a few steps backward and he held his arms up in defense.

At this point you know you looked like a mess. The hot tears you were trying to suppress had spilled over and you could taste the salt of them on your tongue.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so much but seeing the pained look on his face broke your heart.

To be honest he looked like shit. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in months. His beard was long and unkempt. It even looked like he’d lost weight. And his eyes, the biggest tell of all, were sad and empty.

“I just want to talk.” he spoke calmly.

You shook your head. “How did you find me?”

When you left the witness protection program you didn’t even tell Madani where you were going. She tried to pry it out of you, swearing that it was her duty as her job and as a friend to know. However, you wouldn’t budge.

The people that were after Frank had been taken care of according to Dinah. You didn’t want to continue living out the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.

So you thanked her for all of her help and you wished her the best, but you didn’t want any ties to your life back then. You didn’t want any more reminders of him.

“He asks about you, you know?” she had said during your last conversation. “Every week like clockwork. I haven’t told him anything. Just that you’re safe and happy.”

You scoffed, “Well at least one of those is true.”

She was silent for a moment. “I hope you can give yourself a chance to be happy again. Love doesn’t always look the way we want it to and life is hardly ever fair, but once we choose to accept the pieces we are given…. we can allow ourselves to move on.”

You know Dinah meant well. And you appreciated how close the two of you had gotten based on the circumstances. But you weren’t sure if you could agree with what she was suggesting. It felt impossible to move on when your whole body still ached for him.

“Thank you Dinah.” you relented, “Who knew you could be so therapeutic?”

“Just part of the charm.” she laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between you. You were sitting on the balcony of your cousin’s apartment, and for a brief second you felt a little bit of excitement at the opportunity to start over.

Your cousin had managed to get you a job and while it wasn’t exactly what you were doing before, it was familiar work.

You’d be working for a publishing company polishing and approving manuscripts. It was boring, monotonous work but it was safe.

You thanked Madani again and expressed the hope of following up again someday in the future.

Then you changed your number and disabled your emails.

You knew doing so wouldn’t stop them from being able to find you if they really wanted to. Her and Frank were both good for that. But it gave you a sense of control for now. That you were the one deciding to distance yourself this time and the choice wasn’t being made for you.

“Could we go some place to talk?”, his voice broke you out of the memory.

You crossed your arms.

“No. You don’t get to show up out of nowhere after months of silence expecting to just talk. I have nothing to say to you.”

The words that tumbled out of your mouth were meant to be delivered with strength and conviction. Instead, they sounded more like someone trying to convince themselves that they believed them.

“I can explain whatever you want. Just let’s get out of the cold here, there’s a diner not too far out.” he said, tilting his head back towards where you came from. “We could get a cup of co-”

“No, Frank, I want to stay right here.”

He closed his mouth, but you could tell he was trying to keep his composure. You were being stubborn and as much as you hated being in the cold, you didn't want to be around other people.

You didn’t want to take the chance of losing your shit while people were trying to enjoy their food in peace.

“I get that you’re angry, but there’s a lot you don’t understand. I was just trying to protect you.” he tried to reason.

��You left me Frank. You didn’t text, you didn’t call. You left me completely in the dark.” you cried, wiping angrily at your face to rid the tears that were escaping.

“Do you know how scared I was? Having strangers show up to my house and basically tell me I couldn’t exist as me anymore? I had to move and change my name. And the one person I needed more than anything—the one person who could make all of it feel okay— wouldn't even answer a damn phone call.”

You suddenly felt like you were back in the empty apartment Madani had set you up in. You hardly knew her before that day, she was just “someone who had worked with Frank before”, according to what she told you.

But she kept giving you this look. This look that both expressed the pity she felt for you and the wonder of how you ended up in a situation like this? How you managed to get mixed up in the world of Frank Castle?

But you had met him after he had left that life behind him. And according to him, the life that he was never going back to. Things had been good for so long that you never even questioned it until that day. Now you didn’t even know what was real.

“You were in danger alright? I had angered some really powerful people. I had hurt them, did things I’m not proud of and I wasn’t about to let you take the fall for it. You weren’t safe with me.”

“I was always safe with you!” you shouted, “Who else could’ve kept me more safe than you? We could’ve worked it out together, we could’ve came up with a plan—” you stopped as you watched Frank shake his head in disbelief, “What, Frank? What the fuck is that about?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Come up with a plan? Really?” he scoffed, “This isn’t team sports. It’s not some dumb escape room you sit around and solve clues in. It’s real fucking life.”

You looked down at your feet. The escape room comment was a low blow. It was something you loved doing and grumpy Frank hated. He’d go along with it if you planned it, not bothering to hide his disdain at first, but by the end of it you knew he had fun with you.

You didn’t think he’d throw it in your face as a means to mock you.

“Frank, we were partners. That’s what you do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “You work through things together. As a team. Not one person taking over and telling the other person what to do all the time, but see you didn’t ever want to do that did you? You didn’t think I was capable right?”

“Don’t go there.” he warned. You could see his hands start to twitch. In the past his agitation would have gotten you to dial it back a little. You hated fighting with him and it was never worth it.

But this time you didn’t care. You didn’t understand why he was the one so angry.

“Why not?” you probed, “You always made it seem like I was one mistake away from getting myself hurt.”

“That’s because you never took things seriously. You had no sense of danger. Too trusting, too carefree, too-”

“Stupid?” you interjected.

“I didn't say that.” he shot back. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to find some place to channel the tension. You could tell this was not how he wanted the conversation to be going either.

You couldn’t believe you were having this same fight. It was something you never got along about.

You tried to be understanding. You both had different life experiences and because Frank had a military background, he had been trained to look at things a certain way.

He was trained to look for a threat and “take it out before it took you”. Transitioning back to civilian life wasn’t always that simple. Those habits could be hard to unlearn.

It wasn’t always bad, but it wasn’t always necessary.

Not every stranger was a potential threat set out to hurt you.

Staying late at work didn’t mean you were in danger and someone was holding you hostage.

Interviewing a source for your upcoming news article didn’t immediately put a target on your back.

But Frank always anticipated the worst.

You know it was his way of expressing his love but it could be a lot at times. You just wanted to enjoy life together without always feeling like there was some danger lurking around the corner waiting to get you.

“Go ahead Frank,” you continued, “Let me hear how stupid it was for me to walk home by myself tonight. How naive it was to risk getting hurt when I should’ve called a cab.”

“I ain’t gonna act like it was a good idea, and up until a few minutes ago I’m sure you were realizin it wasn’t either.”

You let out a groan.

“I was almost home, besides I don’t think anyone would’ve tried anything with the big bad punisher stalking me.” you said, throwing your arms out dramatically.

“I mean really Frank, what was your plan? Were you just gonna jump out and shout surprise? Were you gonna follow me home to make sure no one grabbed me? Stare down the cars that drove past me? The people that passed me? What was the fucking point?”

For a moment he didn’t say anything.He kept his gaze down at his boots. The twitching of his hands had stopped, and the heavy rise and fall of his chest had slowed down.

“I needed to see you.”

The phrase was simple, but it held such weight.

You understood what he meant. You felt the desperation in his voice. And yet you couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling up.

“What about all the times I needed to see you? To hear your voice? Why didn’t I deserve the decency of a phone call, a text message, anything?”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“Bullshit.” you spat. “You could risk asking Madani about me?”

His head shot up at that.

“Are we gonna do this all night?” he asked, the anger picking up in his voice again, “Huh? We’re gonna just keep yelling at each other? Who was right? Who was wrong?”

“Yes Frank because I’m angry with you! You made me feel unimportant. You made me feel helpless, like I had no control over my own damn life anymore.” You stepped closer, making sure he couldn’t avoid your eyes.

“You pushed me away like I meant nothing to you!” you shoved him.

“No.” he shouted, “I pushed you away because you meant everything to me!”

He turned away and let out a deep breath through his nose. The weight of his words slamming into you like a wrecking ball.

“Everyone I've ever cared about gets hurt because of me. Because of my demons. Because of the shit I've done to other people. I couldn't take that chance with you. They were so close to hurting you. I had to do something. That’s why I contacted Madani. That’s why we got you into witness protection.”

You felt the sting of the tears start to swell up again. From anger, frustration or sadness you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was all three.

“You want to know why I couldn’t say goodbye to you? Why I couldn’t call you? It’s because I knew—,” he paused and looked off to the side, “I knew that if I saw you—if I just heard your fucking voice—I’d change my mind.”

He finally locked eyes with you again, taking a step closer to you. He was testing it out, seeing how close you would let him get. To his surprise you didn’t move away.

“I couldn’t be selfish with you.” he said softly.

You didn’t know what to say. You knew the people that had been after Frank were relentless, but you never once feared for your life. Maybe there was more to it that he kept from you, and you wanted to trust him, but it didn’t diminish what you experienced while he was gone.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I hurt you. But I’m not sorry I did it because you’re safe. And I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but I’d do it again in a fucking hearbeat if it meant nothing would happen to you.”

“It’s just—.” your voice trembled and you bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t put the words together.

“What is it?” he asked gently, taking another step towards you. This time he was close enough he grabbed the bottom of your chin and tilted it up towards him.

“I really missed you and I didn’t think you cared about me anymore.” You choked.

Suddenly you felt yourself pressed up against his chest as he pulled you into him. “No baby, that’s not true.” he soothed.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, letting all the pent up emotions slowly release. God you forgot how good it felt to be held by him.

All the nights you longed for this very feeling. For him to hug you and kiss you and tell you everything was gonna be alright.

You could feel your unsteady breathing start to level out again and all the anger and frustration slowly disappear. It was as if he was a magnet, pulling out the deepest emotions you tried so hard to bury.

“I missed you so fucking much you have no idea.” He pulled back, tilting his head down to look at you.

You both locked eyes and without thinking twice you kissed him. He responded instantly, pulling you so tightly against him it was as if he was trying to swallow you whole.

That feeling people mention of the world standing still—you finally understood what that meant.

When you couldn’t breathe anymore you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“What does this mean, Frank?” you quietly asked. “Can we be together now? Do we just go back to the way things were before?”

He was quiet for a moment and you almost regretted asking the question.

“It’s whatever you want it to be sweetheart.” he finally answered, “You tell me.”

You weren’t sure what to say. One half of you wanted to be together again. The other half wasn’t so sure you should give in this easily.

What if it happened again? You didn’t doubt there were more people out there that’d like to see Frank Castle and the people he loved, hurt.

Would he push you away? You didn’t think you could survive it a second time.

“Frank, I love you. I want to be with you. But I need you to treat me like an equal. I want to be included in decisions. I don’t want to be kept in the dark again, it isn’t fair.”

Though he wasn’t speaking, you could tell the thoughts were churning in his head.

“If something like this comes up again I want to know about it. I want to have a say in how we handle it. Can you please promise me that?”

Frank let out a heavy sigh. He had to fight with the selfish side of him that wanted to say no. This shouldn’t even be something you have to worry about. He’s the one that should be responsible, not you.

But if he was being honest with himself these past several months were hell. He hated not being with you and maybe compromising would be the best thing to do after all.

He didn’t like making promises in general, but as he looked into your eyes he couldn’t bring himself to fight anymore. He needed to be with you just as much as you needed him too.

“Okay.” he agreed quietly.

“Promise me.” you urged again. You needed to hear him say it.

“I promise.”

You didn’t even realize how tense your body had become until you felt your shoulders relax. Frank pulled you into him again and you could feel the tension in him relax as well.

If anyone would have told you an hour ago you’d be standing in the middle of the street being held by Frank you would’ve told them they were crazy.

There were nights you never thought this moment would come. So as the two of you continued to stand there, holding onto each other. You realized there was probably nothing in this world that could match this feeling.

You would make sure that no matter what was waiting for you around the corner, you’d never let go again.

[oceantruffle]

hotline

Characters :: reader x Lando Norris

Location :: I know Miami doesn't have any mountains but here I just felt like it so just go with it lol

summary :: after being up and celebrating the whole night, you and Lando see the sunrise together.

A/N :: It would be so nice if I had uploaded it before three days but I was very sleep deprived and the fact that I was in the middle of a forest for 4 days. anyways happy reading ✨

[y/n - your name]

Third Person's POV -

"I was meant to fly but Zak just told me we fly tomorrow so I'm not going to sleep. I'm going all the way. I might have more than just a scratch on my nose tomorrow, so I don't care, but I'll enjoy my time. This only happens once when you're taking your first win. It's nice to do it here in Miami,"

This was enough for you to know that the night is going to be absolutely crazy and wild. And you were very sure that none of you were gonna board the flight in one piece.

You were beyond the clouds. This was a feeling that no one could describe in mere words. The absolute bliss on Lando's face was ethereal. You could watch just him for eternity as he soaked up the sun on the podium. You were smiling so hard for so long seeing him this happy and you didn't realised that until your cheeks started hurting.

'I DID IT!' he had said holding the trophy towards you when he got back to the driver's room.

'YES!!YES YOU FUCKING DID!!' you said as you hugged him over the shoulders.

After 6 hours of clubbing and celebrating this sweet win with your boyfriend you had decided to go to a mountain top, alone. Maybe it was the alcohol which made the decision. You were more sober than him though. It was stupid. But nevertheless here you were now, sitting in the peaceful silence of the forest.

His head was in your lap and he could barely open his eyes. The alcohol was very heavy on his eyes. You both were freezing. Maybe not him since he had a jacket on but you definitely were cold.

You let your hand run through his soft curly hairs. A little chirp above in the tree got your attention. The stars in the sky above you had been staring had started disappearing. The dreamy dark night was filling with beautiful hopeful sunlight. That's when you realised it was morning. So it did happen. You were very happy for Lando. There are many more to come but wining this first one was a different feeling.

Lando was kind off in a passed out state but he was still very active and he quickly jolts his head when he hears little sniffs. Your tears fell onto his forehead as looks up to you.

'y/n?' he asked worriedly.

and when you sobbed a little louder he quickly sits back up to face you. 

'Baby?' he frowns. He got worried and all the exhaustion & sleep deprivation wasn't helping him much.

'What why are you crying?' he managed to frame a question,

'I don't know!' you sobbed.

'hey?' he said, his large hands cupping your face.

'I'm proud of you Lan. I'm so proud of you!' you smiled as tears rolled down your cheeks.

'Come here.' he said pulling you in his arms.

'Stop crying.' he soothed you.

'Please stop crying! haven't you already cried enough?' he said, now his own voice had started to break.

'Y/n?' he chuckled.

You look up to him to see his face and you see tears threatening to leave his eyes.

'I'm sorry! we're in the middle of nowhere, you're hungover, our phones are dead and i'm crying!' you shivered a little as cool breeze passes through.

'I love you y/n' he says.

'You deserve this Lando, You deserve the world..' you smile at him teary eyed.

'Thank you love!' he says softly resting his forehead against yours.

He wiped off your tears and kisses you on the forehead. You snuggled into him once again and watched the sun as it rises from the horizon.

There were countless times when you were up all night partying and eventually pass out in the morning. But this. This morning had something different in it. It had the feeling of glory, the joy and celebrations. You wanted to stay like that forever, in his arms. It was perfect and it wasn't a dream.

__________________

[word count - 875]

not edited

[surelynotaspider]

Losing interest

Al-Haitham x gn!reader

-> IN WHICH Al-Haitham loses interest in you and you can't stand it anymore.

-> Wordcount: ~1.1k

Masterlist

Alhaitham has lost interest in you. You knew that. He never confirmed this theory, but you noticed the hints.

Your lover never came home for dinner for the last few months. He's always late, always so late that even after 11pm he's not home. You spent days in your bed alone, even though you two were sharing it. Not even in the morning he had the time to greet you and say goodbye.

He just left. Without a word.

You two didn't have normal conversations either. When you do see him (which would be considered a miracle) he brushes you off. Saying you could talk later. You never did. You never will. He doesn't have time. He has more important stuff to do (What is more important than the love of your life?).

Through your pain you shrugged it off.

He's just stressed.

He doesn't mean it.

Soon everything will be like before.

It's okay, I'm overreacting.

It never did. Matter how much hope you had. It never got any better.

Even the most hopeless romantics lose hope someday.

"Can we talk? It's important." You try your best to communicate with your lover. You woke up before your usual routine just to have a chance of meeting him.

"Can it wait? I have to go to work." Alhaitham again brushes you off with his (now) usual monotone voice. Like he doesn't pay attention to a word you're saying. Just perceive that you're mentioning something not worth listening to.

"No it cannot-" You couldn't even finish your sentence as your partner has already left the house.

It took everything for you to not scream out of frustration. Instead, tears rolled down your face. Uncontrollable sobs escaped your mouth. You covered your eyes with both of your hands as you fell on your knees. What seemed like hours and hours with no end were probably only a few minutes. What happened?

Were you not enough?

Were you a burden?

Did you annoy him too much?

All these things did not matter anymore. You got a new job offer in Liyue a few months ago. Just as Alhaitham's weird behaviour started. You first hesitated. Why would you leave everything you had?

It took everything in you to finally accept the job offer. A break is what you need right now. A new country, a new area and maybe many new friends.

Who wanted you here in Sumeru anyway? It's not like you had any friends.

It was just you and Alhaitham.

Now it's just you and your pain.

Clearly, Alhaitham didn't want you here, so you being gone for a few months shouldn't hurt, right? You leave in 2 days. That's why you wanted to talk to Alhaitham today, but he seemed... busy.

You lay down on your bed and cried into your pillow. Hours passed and you haven't moved an inch. Not even to go drink or eat something. You just laid there and did nothing, but cry.

For the last 2 days you tried to talk to Alhaitham about your leave.

And for 2 days you failed to talk to Alhaitham about your leave.

It was just like the last months. Not one glance. Not one word. Not one conversation. Just you. Alone. Crying yourself to sleep.

You have packed your items for your trip and your transportation was just a short walk away. You didn't bother trying to tell Alhaitham about it.

He clearly doesn't care.

You closed your eyes. Took a deep breath and stepped out of your shared home.

Goodbye, Sumeru. I will see you in 6 months.

And hello Liyue. My new home for the next 6 months.

Alhaitham sighed in relief.

Finally.

He has been busy with so many different tasks and missions of utmost importance for the past months. As the Acting Grand Sage he had now new responsibilities which didn't make it easy for him. Especially after the whole chaos.

But now he was finished. Now he could spend some quality time with his lover. Oh, how he missed you.

He didn't want to tell you about it. He thought it would bring you unnecessary stress and worry. He didn't want that. He loves you with all his being and seeing you sad or mad makes his heart ache to the point it's unbearable. You, his precious angel.

He knew he had been neglecting you for the last weeks. He missed being near you as well. Your touch, your voice, your delicious cooking. Everything.

He was about to make it up to you with a nice date. He knew one date couldn't compensate for all the wrongs he did the past months. But he planned the best date you could even imagine. He even bought tickets for one of Nilou's shows. They were hard to get but Alhaitham knew you liked her so much and used his position and power as the Acting Grand Sage to get the VIP tickets.

"[Name]?" Alhaitham yelled through the house. "Sweetheart I'm home!" No answer.

The Sage looked confused. It was Saturday, you should be free.

Maybe you were asleep? Yeah, that's probably it. You looked very tired the last few times he saw you.

He quickly checked your bedroom. Empty. Weird. You would tell him if you had appointments or meet-up with friends. But you didn't...

In all his worries he asked Kaveh. His beloved roommate.

"Kaveh?" He knocked on the door. As he got permission to enter he opened the door.

"What?" Said roommate looked at him annoyed. Alhaitham however ignored that. It's nothing new between them.

"Have you seen [Name]? They aren't home and I'm quite worried." He announced his worries.

Kaveh stared at him blankly. "Are you serious?"

Alhaitham blinked in confusion. "... Yes? Have I missed a certain appointment today? Was it important?"

The architect couldn't believe it. Was he serious? You left to Liyue and Alhaitham didn't know? He didn't even notice?

"Alhaitham. You're telling me you didn't notice [Name] leaving about a month ago? A month?! Are you serious?!" Neither of them could believe what they were witnessing.

"W-What? [Name] left? Without telling me?" Why wouldn't you tell him? Have you perhaps forgotten him?

"Without telling you?! Are you hearing yourself? [Name] has been trying for weeks to get your attention, but you were oh so busy with work, that you completely neglected them! They left for Liyue about a month ago because they got a pretty good job offer. They tried to tell you but you were so dense you didn't care. Don't come to me and whine about how they didn't tell you because they tried. You can apologise to them in 5 months when they come back. If they even want to anymore." Kaveh scoffed and closed the door right in front of his face.

You left a month ago and he didn't notice?

You will come back in 5 months?

Part 2

Not proofread.

[wonusdoll]

FLOWERS • PJS

Synopsis: Jisungs a hopeless romantic and gets jealous easily

Content: fluff! cavity inducing fluff so fluffy i wanna cry

pairing: Childhood Bestfriend!Jisung x reader

notes+ WHY DOES NOBODY WRITE FOR JISUNGGGG i had to take matters into my own hands so here you go :D this was originally gonna contain smut but i couldnt help myself with the fluff anyways, enjoy!!

You and Jisung weren't always friends. When your mom introduced her best friends second grader son, 4th grade you didn't mind. Until he started playing with your stuff, jumping on your bed, stealing your snacks, and blaming you on things he did and getting you in trouble.

Naturally, you started resenting him, dreading when he would come over, and chose to ignore him at school, finding it embarrassing whenever he would go over to you and your friends at the playground and ask to play with them. your friends found him cute, but you, you hated him.

Going into your middle school years, he slowly got more tolerable. He started understanding boundaries but still was the same annoying little kid.

In some point of time, Jisung turned from an annoying little kid who yelled and cried all the time to one of your closest friends. And then when he finally started high school, you guys started hanging out willingly, without his mom forcing him to go over.

Some days you would catch him in your living room watching tv with your dog, or accidentally walking in on him showering in your bathroom, or in your kitchen making ramen. Sometimes he would bring his friends over to your house. You honestly didn't mind that much as long as they never broke anything, or disturbed her in any way, which jisung made sure never happened.

"Jisung?? That you??" You yelled from the top of the stairs after hearing feet shuffling and the front door opening and closing. The two of you made plans to watch horror movies and have a sleepover to celebrate the new season of autumn.

"Nope!" Jisung yelled back, making you go downstairs with a grin. But you immediately furrowed your brows and bit your inner cheek, upon seeing 6 other people. you knew them, jisung would bring them around sometimes but you didn’t know them.

"Jisung, whats going on?"

He grinned annoyingly cutely back and held up some convenience store bags up and nodded towards his friends, "They wanted to hang out but my mom banned us from the house after last time.”

You scoff and look at him like he was crazy, "What- are you kidding me?" You say just above a whisper, flickering your eyes between him and the guys behind him, "I thought we were gonna hang out?? You didn't even ask if it was okay to bring them over? if you wanted to hang out with them instead you should've just told me."

With a smirk, jisung was much closer than you remember him being, he tucked a few stray strands of your hand back, "I'm sorry princess i should have asked, hm? If we're too much of a bother we'll quiet down okay?" He pulled away and looked into your eyes, pleading and begging for uou to say yes.

You mask your flustered state with a sigh and wiping your face with your hand as if annoyed.

"Fine, whatever, just— leave me alone im gonna go study" you warn making him grin and ruffle your hair, juxtaposing his previous act. He's called you princess numerous times before, even when you guys were kids but in that tone, that voice, and devilish smile, it felt different.

You wanted to tell him off for joking around with you like that, making you feel that way. It was something you always felt around him but maybe it was his perfectly messy hair, his oversized hoodie making him look so comfy, his soft plump lips, or his hand in your hair, or the name he called you, but the feeling became overwhelmingly strong, like when a candles been burning for hours and slowly the fire grows bigger and it fills the whole room with its pleasant fumes.

You hung around with them for a bit when you took a break from studying because you couldn't focus. but the reason you couldnt focus was sitting right across from you on the couch, sending lingering glances everybody noticed.

When he catches your gaze you turn away with a light blush but when you catch his, he doesnt shy away, keeping eye contact with you with a look in his eye that you couldnt read for the first time.

In the time you got to formally meet his best friends, you surprisingly got along with all of them. Huang Renjun was the one who stuck out the most out of the 7, other than Jisung who kept eyes on you the whole time.

You got to have a one on one conversation with Renjun about each others favorite music artists, which were quite similar, and art itself. You were already interested in art but with the knowledge and story telling Renjun excitedly provided made you want to learn more. So you guys planned a hang out the next day to an art museum Renjun was fond and familiar with. 

You posted the day out with him on your story with Art Deco - Lana Del Rey in the background.

Jisung always made sure to heart and reply to your story even if it was as simple as an ootd, but this time he didn't. You furrowed your brows and looked at the views and there he was, also active. You tried texting him regularly but you were left on delivered until 7 hours later but all you got was a

"sorry lol"

It hurt your feelings, you couldn't lie. So you texted him again not even 5 seconds later.

"too busy being active to answer? lmfao"

He leaves it on read for a few minutes before replying

"too busy hanging out with renjun? yk we all made plans tgt”

You scoff at his attitude

"whats your problem?? it was HIS choice to hang out with ME. not like you wanted to."

"chill out i just wanted them to meet you, didn't know you were gonna be all over them tho"

"fuck you."

You threw your phone at the end of the bed and hug your pillow against your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't know why you were so affected by his words, usually you wouldn't even press him so much about not answering, and would just leave him alone but seeing him be so uninterested left a mark on you.

A few nights later you were watching a scary movie in the darkness of your living room when you heard knocks on your front door. you paused the movie to make sure it wasn't from the tv, and when they come again, you look at the time.

"Who's here at 11:30 at night" You whisper to yourself and cautiously approach the door.

Thunder suddenly struck making you whimper and jump back, but you decide to just rip the bandaid off, after all horror movies aren't real right?

"Jisung?!" You exclaim, seeing him standing there out in the pouring rain with his head down ashamed.

"Hey.."

You quickly let him in, taking his soaked coat off and telling him to wait while you get a towel.

He was silent while you scolded him for being out in the rain so late without so much as an umbrella.

He finally brung his hands from behind his back, revealing your favorite flowers in an articulated assorted bouquet wrapped in paper.

"Sorry if they're kind of ruined.. I ran all the way here" He sniffles and scratched his nape awkwardly.

You bite your lip remembering your last interaction, "You wanna tell me why?"

"I'm sorry y/n im so sorry im such a fucking loser and a coward for getting mad at you  I never wanted to hurt you i just was so angry that you hung out with Renjun that i took it out on you without thinking and ive been trying to figure out how to apologize to you so i went to the flower shop like 10 times in the past 2 days because i wanted to get you flowers but you have 5 different favorite flowers so i got 5 different bouquets for you then realized that was too much so i just got one with 2 of your favorites but felt bad that i left out the other 3 so i got another one with all of them but they didn't look good so i spent the whole day learning how to make a bouquet to make it perfect for you then realized it was already night and thundering and you hate thunder so i ran all the way here and now they look horrible and ugly and-"

"JISUNG." You put a stop to his rant with a chuckle and put your hands on his pink dusted cheeks. He pants out and looks in your eyes to find any anger or disgust in them but you were smiling, "Hey its okay, i promise its okay," You take the flowers from his hands and bring them up to your face to smell them, "they're beautiful ji, seriously."

He takes another pan over your face to scan your expression to really make sure you weren't mad and one he realized that, he lets out the breath he was holding and chuckles, then laughs a bit harder.

You laugh along with him then card your fingers through his wet hair, "Did you really learn how to make a bouquet of flowers for me? And run all the way here in the rain?" You ask, softly now.

He smiles and takes your hand away to hold it instead, "Yeah.. you know i would swim across the whole ocean just to get these to you. Also whats wrong with learning a new skill, i always wanted to learn how to.. make assorted flowers.." He dryly chuckles at the end.

you could hear your heart thumping out of your chest when you feel the pressure of his eyes staring into your own, as if trying to answer a question he hasn't asked. so you ask your own.

"Jisung," You start making him nod, "Why were you so upset?" You ask, making you swallow thickly.

and suddenly you're hyper aware of everything going on, your breathing, your blinking, the rain and thunder, his facial expressions, his thumb caressing your hand.

Jisung doesnt answer for a second, trying to find the right words. His mouth was drying up, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out so he gulped.

He was now holding your hand with both of his hands, "I love you." he blurted, "I love you and Im selfish and only want you to myself, I just wanted to treasure you for my myself and not let other people see how amazing and perfect you are because i was scared you'd fall for them and forget about me so when i saw you were with renjun and saw how excited you were to talk to him and hang out with him i felt.. rejected? in a way? like he had something i didn't to make you feel that way. So i was sad and upset and jealous— god, i was so unbelievably jealous, and i know im not allowed to because we're only best friends and you're allowed to be friends and talk to anybody you want to but i just- i just didn't want you to notice anyone else, and leave me.."

He ended his rant with a sigh and closed his eyes shut, mentally preparing for you to laugh in his face and friend-zone him, but it never came.

When he opened his eyes you were just standing there, not saying anything, with a smile on your face.

You giggled as he looked at you with an expectant look.

“Okay.”

His brows furrowed and his hand started slipping from yours “That- thats it? Just okay? You couldn’t have let me down any better-“

“Okay, I wont leave you.”

His expression softened, watching as you laughed and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest, “Jisung park, I will never leave you and you can never leave me, if you do i’ll have to kill you.” You tried to threaten him but he just found you adorable, and picked you up in his arms.

You guys laughter filled the room, bouncing around the rooms, sounding almost louder than the rain and thunder.

Suddenly, your enemy turned into your bestfriend who turned into your lover. And you couldn’t have it any other way.

[piper-2244]

sophrosyne

how liaison intern!reader and spencer grapple with a recent case that's taken an individual toll on them

angst! eeek! word count: 1277 warnings & tags & stuff: lowkey sad, reader cries a little, mentions of schizophrenia (in an unsub), and correlations to spencer/diana are hinted at, it’s mentioned that that unsub gets shot, like the beginnings of a crush showing but otherwise no fluff, just gentle spence as always, social commentary & my personal thoughts on our justice system definitely peek through. very first attempt at some bigger sad scary feelings authors note: hi!!! im alive!!! and guess what!! its my birthday!! i'm 20 which is totally insane. anyway i missed you all and i HAVE been writing, just not posting. it just got like too much when it registered that THAT many people are reading my stuff, yk? i do appreciate all the love SO MUCH but its still a little scary. anyway. i hope you enjoy, i think this is an interesting one? not sure. i fear my intentions for it may have gotten lost in the writing so please let me know if it doesn't make any sense. okay have a superb day ily!!!

Spencer is spinning and he won’t stop and it’s hypnotic.

There’s a little squeak coming from the chair with each turn that sends goosebumps down your legs, filling the otherwise silent bullpen with noise.

You imagine it must be a little sickening, or at least uncomfortable, spinning in a chair for such a long amount of time. You're honestly a little concerned. His legs are crossed like a child’s.

The look on his face—one that you can't quite make out right now due to his motions—has been the same for the better part of the afternoon. That was concerning. It’s so contemplative and stoic. Like an old Greek statue, Odysseus? you think, carved from marble, weathered to the point of near crumbling.

But this case, this case, the one you got back from exactly four hours and twenty two minutes ago, wasn’t anything too bad, was it?

You blink at that thought, taken aback with yourself, the empathy hitting you like a wave. Of course it was bad. They’re all bad. People are dead. All those families are broken in ways that won’t ever heal.

Your second month as an intern under Agent Jareau, working to become a liaison just like her, proved to be almost everything that one grouchy ex-FBI-Agent-turned-guidance-counselor at your university said it would be. 

Harsh. Sad. Cold. It will strip you of your sensitivity. Your gentleness.

But this case. It had a sharper edge to it than the rest, slicing the littlest bit deeper into your skin. A lingering heaviness weighed on your chest. Were you the only one who felt it? Clearly not, if this guy spinning in his chair was any indication. 

Most of the bullpen had cleared out, leaving only the mess of the team’s half-finished mugs behind in the sink. You had stayed though, needing to shake this weight off before you brought it home with you. The last file of the day is spread out on your desk, but you’re far from it, standing across the room by the coffee machine. Hiding. 

You pour two cups, unable to stop the methodical replay of the case in your mind. Not just the brutal MO, but the bigger picture. The circumstances. The diagnosis. The history.

Agent Jareau had made it your responsibility to take care of all the family-related files.

Male, aged 30, diagnosed with acute schizophrenia at age 22. Stabbed 6 women in the throat.

Family history of disorder? (Check one) : Y ☐ N ☐

The unsub, his father, his aunt, and his grandfather. They all had the same last name, bump on their nose, gap between their teeth, and identical diagnoses of schizophrenia. A twisted family tree. The branches, the unsub’s fate.

You turn toward the spinning blur of the chair, unsure if Spencer even knows you're there.

… 

Ceramic scrapes against wood. Still warm, it leaves a condensation trail in its path. “I added a bunch of sugar,” you offer quietly, unsure if he’ll even acknowledge it. 

Spencer slows. He doesn't reach for the mug like you’d hoped, but he stops spinning. Small victories.

He stares down at the file in front of him, and for a second you wonder if your interruption made things worse. That little groove between his eyebrows- today, there more often than not- shows up, a problem trying to become untangled in his mind. 

You really should go. Leave him alone, Spencer clearly has his own things to sort out. But your legs are tethered to the ground. Maybe it's due to the fact that he just got a new haircut, and it’s nice. Really nice. Or maybe it’s because you, too, feel like getting lost in your own head right now. 

You swallow. “You okay?” you ask, before you can help yourself, and you regret it instantly. It sounds too personal, too sudden, too much, like teeth clashing during a kiss. You're intruding on something that Spencer isn’t prepared to share, something unfinished.

His eyes finally land on you for a split second, and he gives you a nod, shallow and unconvincing. You know better than to push for the truth.

You lean on the edge of his desk, keeping your distance but not leaving. You stare into the swirls of your coffee, fingers drumming on the side of your mug. This moment is fragile, you know, and yet you’re unable to stop yourself from talking. A chronic weakness, on your part. “I don’t think this case was…” you pause, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t like the others, was it?” 

Spencer looks at you again, for a beat longer than you expect. The tension in his face softens, just a little. You see it too.

“No,” he says finally, voice low. “It wasn’t.” 

There's something in the way he looks at you that makes your heart pound. There’s a sense of openness to it. He’s not exactly confiding in you, not yet. But he’s also not completely shutting you out, either.

Strange. The total opposite of what you’d expect. You keep talking.

"Everything he did was just a clear demonstration of his schizophrenia, which is genetic and so prevalent in his family. I just keep feeling like… like it wasn’t his fault. Like it was predetermined. And he died for it,” you ramble quietly. “Morgan shot him.” Your voice breaks.

He stills, not saying anything for a beat.

“He wasn’t given much of a fighting chance, was he?” Spencer asks quietly, almost to himself. Like the question was a familiar one. His eyes drift over the file, the unsub’s family members listed front and center. There's something sad in his gaze. Resigned. Like he’s thought about this before.

You shake your head.

“I think,” Spencer starts softly, staring at a point on the floor, voice barely above a whisper. “You're the only one here who sees it. The way we villainize them.” The words sting in a way you didn’t expect.

Silence rings between you two. It’s thick, and nothing but sad. The weight of the case, of the pain, of the impossibility of it all hangs in the air like a dark cloud.

You dip your head, a sudden tear slipping down your cheek and falling into the fabric of your brand new dress pants. Your hands hold the edge of the table behind you and you inhale shakily. 

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this job,” you whisper after a long while, the words delicate.

Silence hangs between you two again. Then, his voice, thoughtful and deliberate and caring, breaks it up. 

“I don’t think it’s about being cut out for it. It’s not about being tough. It’s about being able to hold that much emotion without letting it break you, because you recognize the alternative of not doing the job would be worse. And it’s hard. It’s so… hard. But you’re doing that. You're doing really well.”

You blink, surprised by the calmness in Spencer’s words. The logic is almost comforting in and of itself, in a way.

“Not everyone can hold that much empathy,” Spencer continues, his voice low. “We need more of that, the team does.”

Your throat tightens. 

“I'm sorry,” you say, your voice small. “I didn't mean to put this all on you.” Spencer shakes his head, not minding. 

“You should go home and get some sleep. Maybe it’ll be a little better in the morning. It usually is.” 

You nod, but you don’t move right away. You feel like the moment you leave, you’ll slip from this edge you’ve been teetering on.

“You go,” you eventually say, quiet. “I’m gonna wash all those mugs people left in the sink.”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Pull Of You - Part 1

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Soulmates - Feeling the pull between each other indicates a bond. A kiss confirms it.

Summary: You meet Steve and Bucky on a Tuesday. Steve ignores the soulmate pull, Bucky can't. There's something about you that neither can shake, even when you're wearing one of Clint's t-shirts and your unicorn slippers. After weeks of slipping into your bed Bucky decides he can't hold back anymore. He's telling you after the mission, whether Steve is all in or not. When you don't come back from the mission, they are both ready to burn the world down and the team have the matches to help. But is everything as it seems and have they been betrayed by someone on the inside.

Chapter Summary: You hate it when people make you get your head out your ass and realise what's right in front of you. Especially when it's involving a certain two super soldiers.

You're antsy on the way home. That's what Clint calls it anyway. He's eyeing you as you flip a knife between your fingers and it doesn't take him long to notice it's Bucky's knife. One given to him during his time in Wakanda. He's pulled away as Nat, his own soulmate calls him to the back of the jet, a worried look on her face. He goes to speak but Nat puts her fingers to her lips and signs instead.

"Did she say anything?"

Nat and Clint had dropped you in France to assist French intelligence with a high level threat that involved Chitauri weapons being smuggled through the Paris tunnels. The S.H.I.E.L.D agents had clashed with the French authorities so Hill had asked you to step in, smooth things over and take the lead. Nat and Clint had picked you back up as they passed by from their own mission in Spain. You'd been your usual self when they'd left you but you were definitely not yourself when they picked you back up.

Clint shook his head in response to her question, he paused for a moment and signed back.

"Maybe something happened."

"I already checked the first reports coming in and her body cam, I'm not seeing any issues, apart from Agent 17 being an asshole."

"Well, that's nothing she can't handle."

"Is it me? Am I being too overprotective? Is she still mad at me?"

"No, my love." he signed back, "maybe she's thought about what you said."

Nat lowered her eyes, still disappointed in herself at how she'd lost her cool when you'd try to avoid the conversation about Steve and Bucky, and speaking to them about your feelings a week earlier. She'd slipped into bed with you in the early hours of the morning following your heated conversation an apology on her lips.

A muffled "Fuck off Romanoff" had come from the lips buried in your hair. Bucky. You couldn't look her in the eye as he pulled you back towards his chest, his metal arm around your waist. You didn't look up until his soft snores were heard, expecting her usual smug expression, but you were met with a sympathetic one and the lump in your throat that you'd been fighting since that morning was back and tears ran down your face. She stroked your cheek and kissed your forehead, holding you as much as she could without disturbing Bucky. It took a while for you to stop and when you did she realised it was because you'd cried yourself to sleep.

Your door opening brought another guest and she'd half expected one or both of her soulmates to peek round the door, but it wasn't Bruce or Clint. It was in fact a 6ft 6" blonde super soldier. Well he definitely wasn't one of hers. She couldn't hold it in this time and smirked as she slipped from the bed.

"Don't say it." Steve whispered.

"I don't know what you mean Rogers, I wasn't going to say a damn thing."

"Liar."

"It was Castle wasn't it, he got under your skin."

"Goodnight you damn know it all."

Nat quietly left the room as Steve took the vacant spot in your bed.

Back on the jet Nat and Clint watched as you huffed and placed the knife back into the sheath built into your suit. You pulled out a tablet from the charge point on the wall of the jet and started to type furiously.

Maybe something had happened on the mission.

TAGLIST

@imdoingbetternow

[ltbarnes]

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

[gummydummy19]

Kinktober day 6: Bondage (Captain Syverson x F reader)

Request: by @jamneuromain

Balance

Summary: Sy loses a bet and you give him a taste of his own medicine

Content Warnings: smut, fluffy ending

A/N: This was very very very fun to write :))

Word count: 1400+

"Please, sugar...FUCK, please please, c'mon!"

He didn't even know what he was begging for.

More? Less? Stop? Don't stop, ever?

"Tut tut! Be a good boy for me, Daddy..." you cooed, pressing more kisses on his chest while lazily jerking his leaking cock with the vibrating stroker toy you got him.

The cockring that sat snug around his balls prevented him from cumming. Tears had been welling in his eyes for at least half an hour, but stubborn as he was, he refused to let them fall.

Logan Syverson was a good lover. He was kind, he was respectful and he had a habit of making you cum so many times you lost count.

Sy was a lot of things, but gentle wasn't one of them.

You knew he loved you, he made sure of that. He told you so every single day. And that was necessary because every single night he fucked you like he didn't.

He would tease you until you cried. He made you beg him to touch you before making you beg him to stop. He was relentless, he was mean.

You didn't mind it, you wouldn't be with him if you did, but sometimes it seemed a little unfair. He got to push your boundaries all the time, but you never got to push his. You wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. To show him you craved other things sometimes. You were such a good girl, surely he could learn how to be a bit softer...from time to time.

One afternoon, you saw a video on TikTok. It was a girl challenging her boyfriend to do an exercise she was doing, where she leaned down with her hands behind her back. It seemed fairly easy, but no matter what the guy tried, he kept falling over. Apparently, a man's balance point is lower than a woman's, which means there are certain movements they can't do without losing balance.

You decided to challenge Sy to a bet. Whoever fell over first, lost, and the person who kept their balance got to do whatever they wanted in the bedroom.

Sy never lost bets. Which is why he had agreed to make this one. Because he was so incredibly sure he would win.

"So all I have to do is keep my balance?" he raised his brow before chuckling, "easy."

He stood beside you and watched your movements, confidentially copying what you were doing, but to his surprise, when he went to lean over with his hands behind his back he landed straight on his face.

You giggled at his frustrated growl.

"Wh-god damn it that didn't count! Let me try again!" he sputtered, straightening himself

"Nuh-uh! You know the deal." You grinned, shuffling closer to him before wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, "You're mine Captain Syverson. Mine to do with as I please."

It had been hours.

Sy was a mess. His arms were tied above his head, his face was red and sweaty and his cock was leaking like never before.

You had brought him to the edge countless of times, every single time you promised you'd let him cum, and every single time he fell for it, hope swirling in the pit of his stomach before he got disappointed all over again.

He had a safeword, yet he refused to use it. Insisting he was strong. He was a trained army captain, he could take some teasing. Especially since this was absolutely nothing in comparison with what he did to you...like at all.

Damn...he really was mean.

"Does daddy wanna cum?" , your tone was teasing...taunting even as you looked up at him with the most innocent doe eyes you could manage.

"Fuck yes...please princess...be a good girl and make daddy cum...please!" He whined, bucking his hips upward when he felt your lips lick the drops off his tip.

"M'always a good girl for daddy, but it doesn't matter does it? Daddy punishes me anyway." You stated

"Shit...I'm sorry, Sugar...daddy is so fucking sorry...please?"

Suddenly, you stopped touching him altogether, sliding the toy off his cock and placing it somewhere he couldn't see.

He whipped his head up, staring at you with desperate eyes.

"What are you sorry for, daddy?" You stared at him expectantly

"I...I'm..." he stuttered

Fuck he wasn't good at this.

"I'm sorry for always being mean, baby...I....I love you, I promise I do, I just..."

"I love you too, Sy." You assured, interrupting him to make sure he didn't spiral.

You knew he wasn't used to being in the submissive spot, and as much as you wanted to bring your point across, you didn't wanna overwhelm him either.

"I love it when you're mean, daddy..." you assured him, pressing a soft his on his tummy, "just need some reassurance sometimes....need my sweet n soft daddy every once in a while..."

Your tongue swiped up the fallen drops of pre-cum on his stomach, moaning at the taste.

"Can you do that for me? Pretty please?"

"I'll do anything for you, Princess," he assured you, looking straight into your eyes so you knew he meant it.

"Hmmm...good daddy" you grinned, before taking his throbbing, hard cock into you mouth.

Sy's head fell back again and he yanked at his cuffs, hands itching you guide your movements.

Just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, he heard the familiar buzz of the vibrating stroker, only this time he didn't feel it anywhere.

He peeled his eyes open to what you were doing, and the sight he was met with nearly did him in. His toy was nestled between your legs, pressed perfectly against your clit, making you moan and hum with your mouth still stuffed full of his cock.

'Ah, please! Please let me cum, please! I'm sorry, I'll be good. I'll be so fucking good to you, please. You're such a good girl, such a fucking good girl, please lemme cum baby!" he pleaded.

Having a hard time hearing him beg the way he did, you decided he'd finally had enough. Besides, you were really fucking close to cumming yourself and your submissive nature still wanted to please your daddy,

You quickly removed the cockring from his base, giving him your permission before taking him back in your mouth.

You humped down on the toy a little harder and the second you felt the first surge of Sy's cum hit the back of your throat you tumbled over the edge yourself, moaning around his cock as you swallowed everything he gave you. You road out the faves of your orgasm, relishing in the deep grunts and groans rumbling from Sy's chest.

You made sure to swallow every last drop of Sy's spent before releasing him from your mouth. For a split second, you thought about overstimulating him a little, but when you saw how fucked out and utterly exhausted he looked, you wanted nothing more than to just cuddle up against him.

And that's exactly what you did.

You clumsily crawled up his body, quickly pressing soft kisses up his chest before unlocking the cuffs and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

He was so tired he didn't even move his arms, so you pressed some more kisses on his wrists as you gently put down his arms, snuggling yourself under one of them, nuzzling against his side.

You kept giving him little kisses wherever you could reach, loving the lazy grin that kept growing and growing on his big dumb face.

After a couple minutes, you felt his plush lips against your still-warm cheek. The scruff of his beard made you giggle, and the sound made his heart swell.

Wordlessly, you sat up and grabbed the big bottle of water from your nightstand, handing it over to him.

"You first," he stated, gently pushing it back to you.

Ever the dom, you thought to yourself as you took a couple big gulps before passing it back to him.

The two of you stayed in bed for quite a while after that. Checking in with each other, making sure everything was alright, which it was, more than alright actually.

"I must say, Sugar, I learned a lot today," he sighed, pulling you closer against him.

"Oh, really?" you grinned, pressing a kiss against his beefy shoulder, "Like what?"

He looked at you with a newfound calmness in his eyes before saying,

"How to keep my balance"

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[dangermousie]

Honestly I think you're one of my favourite kdrama bloggers on here and I'm curious: what are the kdramas you consider to be perfect? Like top to bottom not a single flaw seen. What's the best of dramaland for you?

Awww thank you! I love this type of ask too!

Any list of mine is gonna be of course vvv subjective (I am not a romcom lover for example) and I can guarantee you that the moment I hit post, I am gonna lose my mind because I will remember I forgot something.

Also, no flaw by definition excludes some of my faves where there are a few minor flaws but the rest is so amazing it doesn't matter (The Legend First King's Four Gods comes to mind - the first ep ie prologue set 1k years before the main story - is a lil cheesy. But the rest is so good I don't even care and same for My Dearest where I'd perhaps remove the final amnesia bit but it's a perfect drama otherwise with the rest so good I don't even care. So perhaps they should be listed.)

But anyway here are are some dramas where I have not seen a single flaw, perfect dramas.

Mawang (also known as The Devil or Lucifer) - probably the best kdrama dealing with revenge ever made - the damage, the driving need, the destruction of self and yet destruction of self without it. To really explain anything about it would be spoilery so all I am going to say is it revolves around an icy lawyer with a secret, a hot headed cop chasing a string of murders, and a librarian who can read past events by touching objects or people. The way I cried. The way I stared in shock as it ended. The sheer perfection of it all - the acting, the relationships, the writing. I get emotional just thinking of it.

IRIS - yup, an action drama. I am not much of a fan of various sequels/spin-offs (involving different characters, you do not need to watch anything else if you watched IRIS or to watch IRIS to watch the others) but the original is amazing. Sure, it's an actioner. It's also an amazing character study of a person taken apart and trying to put himself together, of past tangling, of people passing or failing tests set by life. It's just - AAAAAAAAA also yet another drama I bawled for hours over.

Train - Yoon Si Yoon is a cop slipping between alternate universes in search of a killer seems like a procedural with a side of scifi but it's more of a meditation on love and loss and what drives us to keep living (or not.)

Someday - hands down the most obscure kdrama on this list, this is a tale of four people whose lives intersect - a mangaka seeking inspiration, a sort of private detective hiding unimaginable trauma under his sunny demeanor, a manipulative yet childlike psychologist and a business minded friend of the last one, the sanest of them all. When people discuss healing dramas, this is the one that comes to mind. My favorite is the detective's arc because it's one of those trauma sunshine things where he's coping, coping, coping and then...stops.

Empress Ki and 6 Flying Dragons - if you watch only two long sageuks, make it these ones. They are smart (esp 6FD), and they are such amazing complex character studies of people being hollowed out by power. The OTPs are amazing and what I love but the character study is even better. And both are epic in all senses of the world.

Speaking of sageuks, Slave Hunters (also known as Chuno) about a former nobleman who's a slave hunter now, an escape slave who used to be a general, and a slave woman masquerading as an aristocrat is my favorite sageuk of all time - a love story, a character story, and a story of the dispossessed, this is smart and grim and hopeful and just - if there was ever a perfect sageuk, this is it.

The Princess' Man and Flower of Evil - ie Moon Chae Won loves a feral mess and goes MINE! TPM is a smart emotional sageuk, one of the best out there and FoE is a study of love and trauma.

Something Happened in Bali, Padam Padam, A Love to Kill, Spring Waltz, Thank You, Snow Queen, That Winter the Wind Blows - old school melodramas (perhaps not TY so much, it's more complicated in genre) that push people to the limits to expose their deepest selves.

My Country the New Age, Hong Gil Dong, Rebel the Thief Who Stole the People, The Crowned Clown, Return of Iljimae - they focus on class in period setting (just as Chuno did) and make me care and think.

Worlds Within - seemingly about lives of studio workers, this is a rare drama where you feel you are peeking at real people.

Gloria and Family Honor - 50 ep drama where I'd remove nothing and that feels so intimate.

W Two Worlds, Extraordinary You, The Moon in the Day, Live Up to Your Name, Queen In Hyun's Man - high concepts that improbably work and make you think and feel.

Secret Garden, City Hunter, Healer, Sungkyunkwan Scandal, Faith, Tale of the Nine Tailed, I Hear Your Voice - just a wonderful good time.

Gaksital - take a bad guy, make him your protag, slowly redeem him and put him through hell.

Bad Guys - a bleak take on revenge and truth but also a damn good time at the same time somehow.

Beyond Evil and Cruel City - about cops but not really. About forgiveness, love and limits.

Come and Hug Me - brought me back to kdramas. A love story and trauma story and a bit of a thriller. It's everything.

Beauty Inside, Last Scandal, City Hall, My Girl, Delightful Girl Chunhyang and Hometown Cha Cha Cha - it is very rare for me to love romcoms. These few make the list. They also made me cry so make of it what you will.

Shut Up Flower Boy Band - the only time I liked a teen drama.

Capital Scandal and Chicago Typewriter - masterpieces dealing with the 1930s revolutionaries.

Que Sera Sera - if you love dysfunction and intense shipping, oh boy!

I am sure the moment I hit post, I will remember something else, but this will do for now.

ETA: aaaaaa Damo!!! My very first sageuk and what a way to start!!! Perfection.

ETA2: Arang and the Magistrate! OK Shin Min Ah is in an awful lot of these...

[milkywaydrabbles]

Number 6 stuck in the wall with adrian tepes!

I've never seen that done with him before!

A/N: wait I had so much fun writing this lmao. I don't ever really think about stuck in the wall as a trope but damn it's good. Anyways here's the drabble and I hope you like it mwuah.

CW: doggy, pet names, smut

Stuck in the wall x Adrian Tepes

"Oh fucking hell!" You groaned, trying to concentrate enough to get yourself out. You were stuck in quite the predicament—literally. Recently today, you'd learn a fun new spell that would let you move through walls —almost like your body on an anatomical level vibrated so quickly it let you pass through solids. You were having the time of your life once you learned to control it, jumping in and out of rooms throughout the castle keeping you entertained for hours. It was fun enough, with Adrian being out for the majority of the day helping the village people, it kept you busy. But you got reckless. You started going too quickly through the walls, foot catching on a rug in between walls and you came tumbling down. You braced yourself for impact except it didn't come in the form of a flat surface colliding with your face, no that would be too easy. It came in the form of whiplash as you accidentally trapped yourself within the wall, top half of your body in one room while the bottom half of your body was out in the hallway. And you were alone. "Fuck!" You groaned, trying your hardest to remember the incantation. But you were too fucking frustrated to remember anything at this point. Thank God you had least had the sense to open the door as a just in case. You hated that you needed it.

"What interesting wall decor I seem to have stumbled upon." A familiar voice teased with a hint of a chuckle. This is not how you wanted him to find you. "Adrian, please, I've embarrassed myself enough" you groaned, face heating up out of shame. "You know I'll need a story here darling" you huffed, and told him the series of unfortunate events that led up to you being stuck in the wall. "please, can you read me the spell so that I can get myself out of here?" There was silence, and at first you thought maybe he had left to go and get the book. But then it took a smidge too long. ".... Adrian?" You waited again, before you felt a hand caressing your ass. "I could" he started "but what do I get out of it?" More teasing.

"You cannot be serious right now." Was he being serious?

A light tap to your cheek. "I could help you get out. But that wouldn't be fun would it?" Oh, he was being serious.

"Adrian, honey" you tried to reason "I'll go down on you after you get me out if that's what you want." A pause. And then a hum. And then another, harder smack. "That's not what I want. I think I want you like this." You squirmed under his touch, bracing your hands on the wall as if you would be able to get out. "Adrian.." you breathed out. "Will you let me sweetheart? I promise I'll help you get out...just let me have fun yeah?" You nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you before feeling another smack and you yelped. "Words, baby." "Y-yes, yes Adrian."

His hands started peeling back your pants and underwear, making it a point to drop them slowly. As he pushed them further down he blew on your tight cunt, hearing you gasp from the other side and seeing you rubbing your thighs together. He landed on his knees as your clothes dropped into the floor, not bothering to take them off your ankles. "Look how messy you already are" he cooed, using two fingers to spread your lips apart, seeing you clench. You whimpered, too embarrassed to speak. Adrian always got you so wet so quickly, ready to take him at any point. "Don't worry baby, I got you." And with that he dipped his tongue deep into your cunt. You cried out in pleasure, already trying to fuck back on his tongue to no avail —you really were stuck, after all. His tongue traveled from out of your pussy to tease your clit, before latching his lips on. He moaned around you, loving the way you tasted.

"Adrian!" You gasped, knees buckling from how good he was eating you. He practically made out with your cunt, slapping your ass every now and again. Two fingers teased the entrance of your hole as his tongue flicked the sensitive nub. The thickness and length of his fingers stretched you out deliciously, feeling him immediately finding that spongy part that had you seeing stars. "Will you come for me? I want to taste you" he nearly growled, and you can only imagine how wild he looked right now. It made you gush around his digits. You trembled and clenched around him, inching closer to release. "ah, ah, ah fuck don't stop. Please Adrian don't stop, pleasepleaseplease—" you sobbed, your lover not easing up his brutal pace. One more suck to your clit and you practically screamed on the other side of the wall, tumbling over the edge and riding out the intense wave of your orgasm.

He was ruthless, though, not giving you enough time to catch your breath before you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. "You tasted divine, pretty girl, but I need to feel you fully" the pet name caused a shiver throughout your entire body. "please, Adrian, I need it" you hiccuped, trying to wiggle your hips as best you could. "aww, how can I let my sweet girl down?" He taunted, pushing between your folds and not stopping until his hips pushed against your ass. You both moaned, already dizzy with pleasure. He pulled back to tease your nub for just a moment before shoving himself back in at a brutal pace. His balls heavy with cum slapping against your clit and stimulating you more. "fuck darling, you feel so good" he praised, a hand slapping harshly on your ass before squeezing and spreading your cheeks. His other hand braced on the wall, almost as if he wanted to hover over you. "Your pussy is so good"

You cried, babbling over how good he felt inside of you. His hand gripped at your hips, giving him purchase to continue to slam himself into you. A creamy ring formed around his cock, and the squishy sounds reverberated throughout the halls. You would be embarrassed how sopping wet you are if it didn't feel so fucking good. "you're so wet, such a good girl, all for me" Adrian mumbled to himself, looking at the juncture where his hips met yours. He couldn't contain himself longer, and brought his free hand around to rub at your clit. "fuck, Adrian!" You squeezed him, feeling your second orgasm build up quickly. "Come on, love, give me one more " he groaned, slamming himself to reach even deeper inside you. You didn't even have time to brace yourself before your juices covered both your thighs, trembling and shaking for the second time as you came around his dick. That was enough to throw him over the edge and you felt his hot cum spurting deep inside you, cock twitching in your pussy. Adrian fucked his cum into you with a few more thrusts before ceasing his movements. All that was heard was panting throughout the hallways, both of you spent. "Fuck, that was good" he panted, pulling out and seeing his cum ooze out of your pretty puffy pussy. "Yeah," you agreed, breathless. "Yeah it was."

You pause.

"But really Adrian get me out of here."