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bucksangel · 1 year ago

Text

temptation

pairing: softdark!stalker!bucky x reader

word count: 12.5k (I PROMISE IT’S WORTH IT)

summary: “I found some land in upstate New York, it’s a quiet, woodsy area, with no neighbors for at least three miles. And when I saw her I knew I needed to go through with it. So I bought the property and I’ve been building the cabin myself, I just need a few more weeks to finish it and then I can bring her there with me.” or - bucky’s trying to get his life back in order, but everything changes when he sees you. He’s going to make you his, whether you like it or not.

warnings: 18+ only, kidnapping, stalking, bucky is weird and obsessed and full on delulu but not violent, implied abuse/threatening abuse (from steve), stockholm syndrome, solo masturbation, panty sniffing, mental manipulation, bucky’s trauma is brought up, steve makes an appearance and is weird and Not Nice At All, brief mention of arson for like one sentence, don’t read if any of these warnings trigger you

masterlist | tip jar | ao3 | part 2

a/n: this is for @jessybarnes writing challenge! my prompts were angst #6 "don't you dare leave me!" and fluff #6 "kiss me again"

also thank you to my lovely @vase-of-lilies for helping me plan this out and @fandoms-writings for helping beta 🤍🤍 i might do a part 2 with smut if anyone is interested!

Tucked away in a reading nook at the back of the library, your legs are curled into your body with a blanket thrown over your lap. You’re faced toward the window, occasionally looking up from your book to stare out into the empty street, watching as the rain pours and splatters against the window. By now you’re three-quarters of the way through your book, having spent the last several hours reading quietly, the lack of other people around also helps keep the serenity of the moment.

You come to the library every Thursday and Saturday and have been for years. It’s one of your safe spaces, one of the only places in the city where you can relax from the usual everyday chaos. It’s your home away from home, the books surrounding you acting as your friends that keep you company. Surely if you had enough room in your tiny studio apartment, you’d have your own library.

Although lately something’s been… off. You can’t escape the feeling of being watched, followed. There’s no proof, only an instinct, one that makes you scan your surroundings every so often no matter where you are and what you’re doing. It’s been setting you on edge for weeks, doing double-takes when walking along the sidewalk thinking you saw someone staring, constantly checking your rear-view mirror because you swore this car has been trailing behind you for several miles.

And the worst part is that no one believes you. You’d tried telling your friends, all of whom said you were being paranoid, you’re just exaggerating, projecting. You asked the security guards at your apartment building if they’d seen anything weird and they rolled their eyes at you. It makes you frustrated, especially since it’s been getting worse, and going to the police isn’t an option. If your friends don’t believe you, why would they?

It’s happening now, you realize, your head snapping up and your gaze leaning to the right. But nothing is there, just like always. Nothing is ever there, only the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that you’re not safe. It takes a few moments for you to shake the feeling away, but it only lasts for maybe ten minutes. Eventually, you decide to give up on reading for the day, packing up your things as quickly and quietly as possible to get out without being seen.

It’s only when you’re at the front door that you realize you didn’t bring your umbrella. You’d gotten to the library before it started raining and had foregone watching the news this morning so you didn’t even know it would rain. But you still have that lingering anxiety, so it only takes a few seconds before you decide to brave the rain and make the two-minute walk to your apartment.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you quickly dash out the front door, speed walking to your place with your head hung low. And, luckily, it doesn’t take long to get to the building, being quick to rush up the stairs and unlock your door to get out of your soaking wet clothes.

____________

It’s wrong, so wrong. Logically, Bucky knows that, knows that his actions aren’t normal. Some people would call him toxic, a creep, a stalker. And they’re all right, Bucky is very cognizant of his actions and thoughts.

He knows, he just doesn’t care.

You see, Bucky Barnes has been through a lot, has endured pure and utter pain for decades, has lost everything and everyone that matters to him. Bucky has never had anything to call his own, has never had anything that’s solely for him and no one else. Even now as he’s in recovery, as he’s finally gotten full control of his mind, as he’s seeing a therapist once a week, none of it fills that void.

Sure, he has a decent-sized apartment, though he has to admit that it’s pretty bare. He has one chair in his living room, one set of cutlery, a few select shirts, and the other bare necessities to live. He doesn’t really know how to decorate, doesn’t feel the need to considering it’s just him.

Bucky’s learning, though. He has a corkboard on his bedroom wall with pictures of different room layouts and complimenting wall colors pinned to it. He got a new computer, three to be exact, standing on a desk underneath said board. He even has a forty-inch tv mounted on the wall across from his bed.

Bucky’s at his desk now, sitting in his chair as he transfers all the photos he took today from his camera to the computer. It took him quite a while to figure out how to do that, and it took even longer to learn how to use photoshop. But, like the decorating, he’s learning.

But as soon as the last picture is uploaded, his phone rings with a special tone, one that alerts him whenever your front door is opened.

Bucky sits up straight, grabs his phone, and races to the bed where he quickly grabs his remote from his bedside table. Settling in, he rests his back against the headboard and lets his legs splay out in front of him. He then turns on his TV, switching from regular cable to the screen that shows all angles of the cameras he placed in your apartment.

It’s almost as though he’s a dog hearing Ivan Pavlov ringing the bell with how his cock involuntarily twitches to life upon seeing you, clothes soaked and acting as a second skin. You’re wearing a dark blue shirt though, so he can’t see through it enough to get a glimpse of what’s underneath, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen it before.

He’s seen all of you.

And right now he sees you rushing into your room and to your dresser as you peel off your shirt, dropping it to the ground. You open your drawers and pull out a new set of clothes; skimpy shorts and his favorite tank top that leaves little to the imagination.

Bucky’s cock twitches again when you start pulling down your jeans, pre-cum already starting to form as you wiggle your hips in an attempt to peel the soaked denim off of your legs. When you finally manage to take them off, you throw those on the ground as well, and Bucky would be upset with how messy you are if there weren’t more important matters at hand.

Quickly, he switches to the camera in your bathroom, all forty inches of his TV showing him an extremely clear view of you taking off your bra and panties, panties that he’s aching to steal, to smell, to really soak in your essence. But, since he doesn’t have them, he uses his next best option: the panties in the top drawer of his bedside table that he snatched from your hamper a few days ago.

Bucky lifts them to his nose and, thankfully, they still smell of you, they smell of heaven, and Bucky makes quick work of shoving his sweatpants down far enough to get his dick out, already fully hard at the sight of you stepping into the shower. Bucky then switches to the camera he placed in your shower head.

And there you are, naked and utterly beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking, like the only thing Bucky wants to look at for the rest of eternity. He’s been awestruck by your beauty since he first met you. Well, met is a strong word, it’s more like he saw you sitting and reading in the window of the library you always go to as he was passing by. For all Bucky knows you hadn’t even seen him.

Still, he’d known you were the one for him from the first time his gaze landed on you.

Bucky can hear your relieved sigh over the spray of the water, his hand holding your panties wrap around his cock as you close your eyes and tilt your head back, giving him a very good view of the water cascading down your breasts. Bucky’s tongue peeks out and swipes along his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, letting out a low groan and pumping his cock faster. This specific pair is smooth satin, making it for an easy glide up and down, a twist of his wrist every so often.

It doesn’t take long for his stomach to start tightening, his breathing to become faster and his thighs to tense as he tries to hold back his orgasm. It never takes long when it comes to you. Before you, he thought he liked sex enough, it was as pleasurable as most people say it is. Now, though, he hasn’t even had you and he’s already addicted.

Bucky lets out a low groan, a soft “fuck” falling from his lips as you start running your soapy loofa across your chest and arms. More pre-cum builds and spills over the tip of his cock as he strokes it faster, squeezing at the base of it several times to try and ward off his impending orgasm. The cold metal of Bucky’s left-hand travels down his stomach, fingers creeping under his cock and taking hold of his balls. In unison, Bucky tugs at his cock as he rolls and squeezes his sac, his breaths coming out even faster when you move the loofa to your legs, running it on the insides of your thighs.

“Oh, my angel…” Bucky whines softly, eyes honing in on the way you rub your skin in small circles, every nerve in his being lighting on fire as he focuses on really feeling how soft your panties are around his dick. He wishes it were your pussy, and is imagining it is now as he gets closer and closer to coming. His mind floods with visions of you; laying on your back and naked in his bed ready to take him, or your face pressed into the pillows and ass high in the air with your fingers clenching the sheets. His favorite one, the one that can make him cum just by thinking about it; you, round and swollen with his baby - babies. Because Bucky isn’t going to stop at one, oh no. He’s going to give you baby after baby until your shared house never knows even a second of silence.

And as the image of your naked and pregnant body lying on his bed flashes through his mind, Bucky’s thighs tense, his teeth dig into his lower lip, and he continues stroking his cock at an inhuman speed as cum spurts out from the tip of his dick. And, dear god, he can’t help how much cum there is, always so much - just for you. His eyes roll to the back of his head, only taking his hand away when his dick starts getting a little too sensitive.

Bucky comes to a few moments later, and when his eyes wander back to the TV he sees you washing your hair, eyes closed, and head tipped back. As Bucky’s breathing evens out, his mind goes a little hazy, eyes unable to tear themselves away from you for the rest of your shower - and after, when you’re drying off and changing into clean clothes.

His mind doesn’t snap out of its trance until you turn your lights off and get into bed. When you do, he grabs the remote and switches the camera to the one he placed in the stuffed bear you keep on your bed, making sure to turn on the night vision mode.

Bucky then gets ready for bed, which merely consists of him stripping his clothes and washing his hands, then folding your underwear and placing them back in his dresser.

And when he falls asleep, he does so with the TV on, the way the camera is angled allows him to see you as his mind falls into slumber. He clutches a heated body pillow with your perfume sprayed on it and puts headphones that are connected to the audio sensor in the camera in the teddy bear in his ears. And it lets him imagine that you’re actually in bed with him, lets him pretend he’s holding you and can hear your soft snores in person.

He sleeps peacefully through the night.

____________

It’s another ordinary Saturday, the Brooklyn sky clear of clouds and showcasing the sun at full capacity. It’s unseasonably warm considering it’s well into fall, so you decide to wear a simple sweater and shorts to the market. Even though your outfit may be simple, your makeup is done perfectly and your hair pulled back from your face, and the perfume you sprayed is no doubt going to reel your date in.

Because you’re going on a date today. Johnathan was a friend of a coworker, you’d met him when he came into your cafê and started chatting mindlessly with Sara. You thought he was handsome, and apparently he found you attractive as well - because, according to Sara, he asked if you were single when you left the counter to go help a customer.

She’d given him your number that day and you’ve been talking with him every day ever since. Finally, after a week and a half of texting and calling, your schedules aligned perfectly so he could take you to the farmer’s market just a little bit outside of the city.

He offered to pick you up, but completely understood when you said you’d rather meet him there, the unspoken “just in case because I don’t know if you’re a murderer” hanging in the air. But, again, he hadn’t minded.

On your way to the date you began to develop a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach, once again feeling like you’re being watched. You look in your rearview mirror, but find nothing, of course you don’t. You never do.

But it’s when you actually get to the market that legitimate anxiety settles in. Getting out of your car, you look around to find Johnathan - but also to see if you can find anybody suspicious. You’re gazing to the left, eyes frantically roaming the crowd, and jump nearly five feet in the air when someone taps your arms.

You have to physically refrain from screaming, only to sigh in relief when you see it’s Johnathan, a huge smile on his face and a wicker basket in his hand.

“Sorry for startling you,” He laughs, causing you to laugh as well, desperately trying to shake off the feelings of being watched.

“N-No, it’s fine.” You smile back at him, then nod to the empty basket. “What’s that for?”

“Well,” He starts, his smile turning sheepish. “You said you needed more fruits and spices for your thanksgiving pies and I figured this market would be good to get them at.”

After a second of silence, Johnathan speaks again. “And don’t worry about buying them yourself, I’m here to treat you. Just pick what you want and it’s yours.”

You can’t help the wide smile that plasters itself across your face because, genuinely, you don’t even know if a single potential partner has been this kind, especially so early on into the first date.

So, with a small ‘thank you’, you take his outstretched hand and let him lead you toward the entrance.

And it’s probably the best first date you’ve ever had, and not just because Johnathan has insisted on buying everything, not even letting the thought of paying yourself cross your mind. It’s fun, walking up and down the stalls, and even going to the pumpkin patch at the back to pick miniature pumpkins to decorate your apartment with.

It should’ve been the most fun you’ve had in months, but it’s hard to fully focus and stay in the moment when the feeling of someone’s eyes on you grows higher and higher as the day turns into night and it’s time to leave.

Johnathan holds your hand the entire day, or wraps his arm around you every once in a while to keep you close when you’re walking through a crowd. He’s holding your hand as he walks you back to your car, and the entire time you can’t help but search the parking lot for any signs of danger, becoming more cognizant of your surroundings as the sky grows darker.

“Today was fun,” Johnathan says, pulling you away from your thoughts. You both stop next to your car, turning to face each other.

“It was,” You say, dropping your date’s hand so you can fiddle with your fingers nervously. “Could we, um…”

“Yeah?” He asks, prompting you to continue when you pause.

“Could we do this again?” That question brings out a bright smile on the man’s face, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, yeah I’d love to!” Then, he coughs, clearing his throat and cooling himself. “I-I mean, yeah. That’d be nice.” His response makes you giggle, and you nod along in agreement.

You both go silent, though it’s not an awkward one. But after a moment of quiet, Johnathan speaks up again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes!” And you don’t have time to be embarrassed about how enthusiastic your response was because the man is immediately leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, one you deepen while your hands come up to grasp his biceps to steady yourself. It takes a good minute for you two to break apart, both of you giggling.

“I guess I should get home,” you say regretfully, and Johnathan also looks kind of sad when he nods.

“Text me when you get there?”

You nod, then whisper back, “you too,” before he kisses your cheek. With a final smile and nod of his head, heads to his car.

And Johnathan’s absence is quickly filled with anxiety, your head snapping to the right at hearing footsteps approaching you. But, just like every other time, there’s nothing except a family passing by. It takes no time at all for you to get into your car and speed out of the parking lot, not wanting to waste anymore time out in the dark.

And when you do get home and send your ‘got home safe <3’ text, you get ready for bed. All the while periodically checking to see if he texted back.

You’d gotten back to your apartment around nine, but by the time you’re turning in for the night around eleven he still hasn’t texted back. So, you resign yourself to waiting until tomorrow morning to see if he texts because he could have just got caught in traffic.

The next morning comes with still no text.

____________

It’s about a week later when Bucky wasn’t able to follow you around for the day, he ended up having to go to the tower for some work on his arm. But he’d checked the cameras before he left, watching as you changed into your outfit and left before he got ready to leave as well.

But Bucky gets back to his apartment around noon. And even though the only thing on his mind is getting to his room so he can get back to online shopping for things he needs for his cabin he notices something is wrong right away. There’s no noise, but the light in his kitchen is on when he’s positive he turned it off before he left. Plus, his hyper-sensitive ears pick up a heartbeat, and not his own.

Bucky is immediately on high alert, and he quickly and quietly grabs the knife he keeps tucked in his pants as he follows the heartbeat to his room. And when he opens the door, he lets out a soft curse and tucks the blade away.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Steve?” Bucky snaps at him, and he knows his harsh tone isn’t warranted, but Bucky hasn’t invited Steve to his apartment since he fell in love with you, and for good reason.

Steve turns to Bucky, though he stays standing by his corkboard, a concerned look on the blonde man’s face.

“Bucky…” Steve pauses, glancing at his friend and then back to the wall next to him. “What is all this?” He reaches forward tentatively, only stopping when Bucky damn near shouts at him.

“Don’t!” And Steve can tell Bucky already feels guilty for raising his voice, because he adds “please,” in a softer tone. So, Steve pulls his hand away, though his eyes continue to roam around the entire room, staring at what must be at least seventy pictures of you pinned to Bucky’s walls, nearly fully covering them.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” Bucky asks again, eyes cast downward as soon as his friend looks at him so he doesn’t have to see the no doubt concerned look on Steve’s face.

“You’ve been off, Buck. We’ve been best friends our whole lives, I know all of your tells. In the past four months we’ve hung out maybe five times, not including when we see each other at the tower every once in a while. You’re always canceling plans, making excuses for why you can’t go out, or why I can’t come over,” Steve pauses, his gaze traveling to the desk to look at a large framed and very poorly photoshopped picture of you and Bucky.

“Now I see why.”

Bucky sighs, then trudges forward to sit on the edge of his bed next to his bedside table. He looks over at another framed photo of you that he took from your Instagram - a close-up of your face, eyes scrunched close, and mouth split in a wide grin, and it’s clear that you’re laughing - happy. The sun in the background adds a beautiful solar flare effect, bringing out the absolute beauty you hold.

“Steve, you have to understand…” Bucky sighs again, looking up at his friend with desperate, pleading eyes. “You know better than anyone about what I’ve been through, all the pain I’ve suffered. I don’t have clear memories from… before. All I can remember is pain, and having no control over my own mind, let alone my life. I love you Stevie, I really do. But, even though you found me, even though I’m no longer him, I haven’t found true happiness. In anything. Marissa, my therapist, suggested I needed to go out and dabble in different hobbies until I could find something that would give me even a little bit of joy. I like hanging out with you and Natasha, sometimes Sam, but it just wasn’t enough.”

Bucky looks back over at the picture, delicately picking it up and focusing on your joyful expression - one he so desperately wants to be the cause of.

“But then I saw her. It was about four months ago; I’d actually been walking back from your place and saw her sitting in the window of the library a few blocks over. She’d been curled up with a book in her lap and was drinking out of a mug, not wearing anything fancy, but I remember thinking she was the most beautiful person I had ever and would ever meet. I remember stopping, being frozen in place as I just watched her read. I remember thinking about Marissa telling me to find something purely for me, something I could call my own, something that would make me happy.”

Steve hums, walking from the desk to stand a few feet in front of Bucky with his arms folded across his chest, something Bucky sees when he looks back up at his friend.

“She’s my happiness, Steve. I haven’t actually talked to her, but she’s the one for me, I just know it.”

Both men are quiet for a long, tense moment, with Steve mulling over Bucky’s words while the latter is worried beyond belief his friend will somehow keep him from pursuing you. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like that will happen.

“Buck…” Steve trails off, sighing. “I mean, you’re right, I can’t deny that you’ve been through hell, that you deserve happiness and love. But, don’t you think this is a little… creepy? Like, why can’t you just go talk to her?”

Bucky immediately shakes his head, his heartbeat picking up slightly at the mere thought of actually talking to you. He doesn’t think he’s ready to make a complete fool of himself by trying to talk to an angel like you.

“I-I can’t, Stevie. It’s not that simple. I can’t just… I can’t just approach the woman I’m in love with. I’d just be awkward and shy and I probably wouldn’t even be able to say more than a few words to her. No one wants someone who can’t even be out in public for more than a few hours at a time, let alone someone who can’t even talk.”

Steve makes a small, pained noise, his eyebrows furrowed. But when Bucky doesn’t continue, the blonde man moves forward and sits precariously on the edge of the bed next to his friend. Steve then slowly lifts his hand, palm up, to the picture Bucky is holding, glancing at him for permission to take the frame. When Bucky nods, Steve takes it. It’s quiet for a moment as Steve ponders, then hums softly.

“She’s pretty.”

And Bucky knows he doesn’t mean anything by it, doesn’t have any want or intention to take you from him, but he can’t help but get jealous. Though he tries to hide it by forcing a smile.

“She really is.” Another pause, a deep breath. “I have a… plan, though.”

Steve hums again, looking up from the picture and handing it back. “Which is?”

“You see, even before I met her I was looking to move out of the city, there’s too much noise, it’s too busy, just too much. I found some land in upstate New York, it’s a quiet, woodsy area, with no neighbors for at least three miles. And when I saw her I knew I needed to go through with it. So I bought the property and I’ve been building the cabin myself, I just need a few more weeks to finish it and then I can bring her there with me.”

With another longing gaze at the picture, he blinks rapidly to get rid of the moisture in his eyes, joy filling his entire body at the thought of you finally being his and his alone. “It’ll just be us,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Steve starts, chewing on his lip for a moment. “So, if you can’t even talk to her, how are you going to convince her to move into a house in the middle of the woods with you?”

“I’m not…” Bucky trails off nervously, his left leg now bouncing with anxiety.

“Buck, please don’t tell me you plan on kidna-”

Bucky cuts him off by standing up abruptly.

“It’s not kidnapping if she’s supposed to be with me anyway! She’s mine, Steve. Mine! She might not like it at first, but - but she will eventually. She’ll love me like I deserve, and we’ll be happy together.” It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than Steve, something Steve picks up on.

“Bucky, I don’t know about this.”

Bucky’s damn near close to shouting, a sudden undeserved anger coursing through his veins at his mind jumping to conclusions by assuming his friend is trying to stop him. But Bucky is determined, and he has no problem cutting off ties if anyone stands in the way of the life he craves.

“Please, Steve, you have to understand! She’s the only thing I’m certain of in life, I… I need her.”

“Okay,” Steve says after a few very tense minutes, nodding along to Bucky’s words. Because, truthfully, Steve would rather this be the problem than Bucky slipping back into a major depressive state. Bucky does deserve happiness and love and anything else his heart could ever desire. And if he wants you, then goddamnit Steve isn’t going to stand in the way.

“Okay?” Bucky asks nervously, fiddling with his fingers.

“Yeah, Buck. I don’t really… agree with all of this, but if this is what you think you need, then okay. You’re my best friend, I’d do anything for you. So if this is what you want then I’ll help in any way I can.”

A wide smile plasters itself across Bucky’s face, his eyes lighting up. If Steve is offering his help, who is Bucky to deny him?

“Thanks, Stevie.”

____________

One month later everything has seemingly gone downhill.

Things would go missing in your apartment one by one, something you actually hadn’t noticed until one day you were cleaning and found several articles of clothing gone. Chalking it up to getting them lost in transit to the several trips to the laundry room in the basement of the apartment complex, you try to shrug it off.

It doesn’t totally work.

Then, the feeling of being watched only got worse. You’ll be walking down the street to the café you work at and feel the instinct to walk faster, but it doesn’t stop there. Some days you have to restrain yourself from staring out of the window in a vain attempt to catch the stranger you’re absolutely positive is following you.

You’d also asked Sara if Johnathan was okay, to which she responded with a sympathetic smile as she told you he decided he wasn’t interested anymore and decided to go back to Pennsylvania to spend an indeterminate amount of time with his family.

To make it even worse, a few days ago you’d gone to meet with a therapist for the first time, hoping they could ease your anxieties. He, in fact, made them worse by accusing you of overreacting, of being another stereotypical woman freaking out over nothing. ‘It’s probably just your hormones acting up’ is what he said, utterly pissing you off, and it took everything in you to not scream at him for being, rather bluntly, sexist. You didn’t want to give him a reason to prove his point.

Well, it got even worse today. You’d woken up around ten in the morning, giving you about an hour and a half to slowly get ready and get to work. Except, it looks like you don’t have a job for the time being, because when you checked your phone right after you woke up you saw a text from your boss.

There was a fire last night, the building burnt to the ground. Everyone is safe, but we can’t work until it’s fixed.

Well, fuck. It’s nearly impossible to find another job right now, let alone quickly, so tears immediately spring to your eyes. What the fuck are you going to do?

Cry, first of all. You can’t help it, so much has happened these last five or so months and all of your negative emotions come pouring out as you lay back in bed and turn so you’re in a fetal position clutching a pillow. And your crying doesn’t cease for an indeterminate amount of time.

As your crying tapers off to short whimpers you hear your bedroom door creak. You want to disregard the sound, figuring - hoping - it was because the air conditioning just kicked on. Though you know you’re foolish for thinking so, something deep in your bones knowing that something is seriously wrong.

With your heartbeat quickly picking up and your anxiety spiking it’s nearly impossible to hear the door creak again, but you hear it nonetheless. But by the time you decide to turn around and see what it is, something - someone - falls on top of you, a piece of cloth soaked in some kind of chemical is pressed against your mouth and nose, and you’re forced over to lay on your front as the stranger straddles your hips to keep you pinned to the bed.

It doesn’t take long for your world to fade to black.

____________

A door slamming shut wakes you from your slumber, your eyes flying open and your body sitting upright as you enter fight-or-flight mode, preparing for whoever is coming. You curl in on yourself, pressing yourself into the metal bed frame your wrists are chained to.

You’ve been here for two weeks, maybe. Actually, you’re not too sure, you haven’t seen the sun in a while, nor have you seen your captor. Once a day the door at the top of the stairs of this dingy basement will open and someone will come down to give you food, but not before turning off the light so you can’t see who it is.

The lights stay on this time. And the person is walking down the stairs with abnormally heavy footsteps, letting you know that they want you to know they’re coming. When the person does finally come downstairs, you gasp, your eyes furrowing in confusion.

It’s the therapist you met with a few weeks ago, the one who told you that you were being irrational for thinking you were being followed. The wicked smirk underneath his beard mixed with the dark look in his eyes reek of malice, of no good intentions. His blond hair is pushed back, only a few strands framing his face.

“You… You’re-”

“Your therapist? Yeah,” He stalks forward, stopping at the end of your small bed. “Technically, though, I’m not a therapist. I’m not a doctor of any kind.”

His smirk widens as he says, “I’m Steve Rogers.”

Your eyes widen comically, your mouth hanging open in disbelief. Because this is impossible, just absolutely impossible that Captain America himself has kidnapped you. This… It just doesn’t make sense, especially since the man in question doesn’t seem super concerned with you, clearly. This is the first time - well, technically second - that you’ve ever seen him yet his demeanor screams indifference.

“Wh-where am I?” You ask frantically, tugging on your restraints in a vain attempt to break free, though you know full well you won’t be able to get out of them considering you’ve been trying ever since you got here. “What am I doing here?”

Steve laughs, bending down and squatting so he’s eye-level with you.

“Where you are is of no concern to you, sweetheart.” He says the name condescendingly, teasing you for your confusion. “As to why you’re here… Well, that’s a story for later. Right now we’re going to go upstairs so you can shower.”

Your body tenses when he pulls a key from his pocket and leans over you. Though, surprisingly, he doesn’t harm you, he only unlocks the chains and drops them to the side of the bed. However, he grips both of your wrists in one of his large hands and holds them in place as he leans back and looks you in the eye. Holding up a large knife in his other hand, he gently taps the tip of the blade against your temple.

“If you try anything, anything, I have no problem teaching you a lesson.”

Your stomach drops, and though every fiber of your being is screaming at you to fight back, to kick and punch him with all your might, to grab the knife and stab him, the logical part of your brain knows you wouldn’t win. He’s a super-soldier, could literally break your neck with one of his hands, and his threat makes your anxiety spike, so you slowly nod. Fear rises in your body when Steve raises his eyebrows, gritting his teeth in frustration.

Clearly, he’s waiting for a verbal response.

“O-okay,” You whisper, trying to maintain eye contact, but you can’t help but look away due to how intense his gaze is.

Steve nods with finality, yanking on your arms and causing you to trip over the thin blanket as you’re pulled from your bed. Since you haven’t walked in several days - other than shuffling to the toilet just a few feet from your bed - your legs are a little numb and sore, almost fumbling around like a baby deer.

It’s a chore walking up the stairs, but when you do get to the bathroom, Steve’s laid out clean clothes for you on the bathroom counter - clothes that look surprisingly familiar to some that you own, and a towel is right outside the shower. You’re extremely uneasy as Steve instructs you to undress and get in the shower, though he turns around so he’s unable to see. You feel like crying, everything you feared was right, you were right all along, and you can’t help but feel ire towards everyone who downplayed it.

“Hurry up,” Steve demands when he realizes you’re simply standing under the spray, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth in annoyance.

So, instead of crying, you decide to speed through showering, turning off the water after five minutes. It’s very awkward when you get out, always keeping your eyes on him to make sure he doesn’t turn around as you dry off and get changed.

“O-okay, I’m done.”

Steve hums, turning and grabbing your arm so he can pull you down a hallway, the whole way he’s carrying his knife in a very visible manner. When you turn a corner, it’s into a room with very little furniture, only a large TV and a simple wooden chair right in front of it with a small coffee table in between the two.

“What is this?”

“Will you fucking stop asking questions?” He snaps, yanking you further into the room. He takes you over to the chair, pushes you down into it, and quickly straps your forearms to the arms of the chair. He does the same to your ankles - securing them to the legs of the chair.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” You retort, somehow mustering up a confidence you’re sure is about to dissipate with whatever is about to happen. “I guess I’ll just go along with you kidnapping me.”

You can’t see him but you’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, and your sudden confidence causes you to wiggle frantically in the chair, tugging at your straps in an attempt to break them, though the straps only seem to dig into your skin. Steve huffs then turns on the TV, pulling a chair out from the side of the room and setting it next to yours. As he sits, he places folders on the table, staring into your eyes with an unsettling gaze.

“Listen, I’m not the one that wants you, I’m merely here to get you… prepared for who I’m gifting you to.” Steve smirks as he says it, picking up a folder and opening it before placing it in your lap.

In the folder is a picture of a man with shoulder-length brown hair, beautifully piercing blue eyes, and stubble covering his jaw, the upper part of his body that’s visible shows you that he’s wearing a tight red henley with just the faintest hint of some sort of black metal where his left arm would be. In any other circumstance you might have found him attractive, he might have been someone you’d pursue. But knowing that he’s probably the one who had you taken just makes you want to meet him so you can stab him.

“That’s Bucky,” Steve says, interrupting your thoughts. “He’s my best friend, has been for my whole life. We’ve always had each other's backs, I’d do anything for him, I’d give him anything he wants or needs.” He speaks fondly of this ‘Bucky’ person, and your eyebrows furrow because you’ve heard that name before. You’re not sure where, but you know it.

“And what he wants,” He continues, pulling out the knife and tapping the pointed tip of it against your knee. “Is you.”

“Fuck you,” You hiss, immediately tensing when the knife digs into your skin. It’s not hard enough to pierce it but it gives you just enough pain to get you to stop talking.

Steve ignores your cursing, simply taking the file from your lap and placing it on the coffee table. He starts pulling more pictures out of other folders, spreading them out until the entire table is covered in pictures of this man.

Your stomach drops immediately, some pictures are of him in an army uniform when he was younger, and some are of him and Steve, though it’s cropped to show mainly this ‘Bucky’ person. But what makes you tense is several pictures of the man strapped to a chair with what looks like metal securing his arms to the arms of the chair, some contraption around his head. He has something in his mouth, and his face and neck are tense to suggest he’s trying to scream - presumably from pain.

“Wh-What is this?”

Steve sighs, nearly unable to look at the pictures himself.

“This is Bucky, but you may know him as the Winter Soldier.”

Gasping, your eyes widen in fear. You’ve read the articles, you’ve heard the stories, you’ve just never seen his actual face. Even though the government pardoned him, the general public doesn’t have the most positive view of him. You, yourself, didn’t really have an opinion of him, if the government said he was better then you took them at their word.

Clearly, you were wrong.

“You see, I wasn’t initially on board with this whole thing, I thought it was a little obsessive and toxic. But, he loves you, I can see it every time he talks about you, I see his eyes light up whenever he even looks at a picture of you. And, quite frankly, the longer this went on I knew he needed to have you. And I’d go to the ends of the earth for him.”

Steve seems to think for a moment before he speaks again. “He’s been watching you for a while, knows your routine, knows how to break into your apartment unseen. However, he’s been assigned to an extended mission, so he’s tasked me with watching you and updating him on everything you do. He doesn’t know I’ve already taken you, I’ve been lying to him these past couple of weeks, but it’s for the greater good.”

He pauses, smirking when he notices you’re frozen, trying to take all of this in.

“As you can see,” Steve continues, picking up one of the more gruesome pictures, “He’s been through a lot. He’s endured pain and torture no man should ever go through, he’s never been in control of anything. His life, his actions, his own mind. And now, through therapy and time, he’s finally gotten to the point where he’s ready to take his life back. And it starts with you.”

With that, Steve sets the picture down and stands, grabbing a remote next to the TV and turning it on.

“No. Fuck no, fuck you,” You suddenly snap at him, anger rising, but it doesn’t seem to outweigh the fear coursing through your veins. You’re trying to fight the dread, though.

Steve rolls his eyes, then pulls a cloth out of his back pocket as he walks over to you.

“Since you don’t know how to shut up, maybe this will work.” With a smirk, he grabs your face and forces your mouth open, quickly shoving the towel in to stifle your noises.

Then he turns back to the TV, blocking your view of what he’s doing. After a few moments, he moves to stand behind you, placing both of his large hands on your shoulders.

“We have about two months before he comes back, which is when I’ll… gift you to him. So, in an attempt to get you on board with this whole thing before that, I think it’s best if I show you these tapes so you can truly understand what he’s been through. And maybe this will help you see that he does deserve happiness and love, and that you will be that for him.”

With that, he clicks a button on the remote, and the large screen displays Bucky, once again strapped to a chair in the middle of what looks like a glorified warehouse. Then, Steve puts noise-canceling headphones over your ears, fiddling with the sound so it’s just loud enough that it’s impossible to even think about anything, but not so loud as to damage your eardrums.

You don’t notice Steve leaving the room, all you know is that as the door closes Bucky’s screams start echoing through the headphones. Your eyes squeeze shut, desperately trying to tune it out, the truly agonizing sounds he’s making are shaking you to your core and causing you to want to vomit.

But it’s no use, you can’t hear anything but the people around him saying words in what you assume is Russian and Bucky’s pained groans. And as you listen, only one thought passes through your mind.

Why me?

____________

This goes on for weeks. Twice a week you’re allowed to go upstairs to shower, though Steve stays in the bathroom with you to ensure you don’t try anything. Then he’ll take you to that room, strap you down, and force you to listen to Bucky’s cries, force you to read the files on him during his time as the Soldier, force you to sit still and endure this for hours at a time with tears constantly streaming down your face.

At first, you felt anger and ire towards the man holding you captive. And while you want to fight him with all your might, you know you wouldn’t win, especially since he’s shown you his quite extensive collection of weaponry. It terrifies you, rightfully so considering Steve has been nothing but awful to you.

And at this point, despite every fiber of your being screaming at you to do something to at least try and escape, you really can’t help but feel sympathy for Bucky. He’s a victim, you’ve come to realize—a victim of horrendous crimes at the hands of some of the most depraved people to ever exist.

It’s confusing and frustrating beyond belief. Yes, you’ve concluded that he does deserve a good life, but that doesn’t mean you want to be a part of it. However, a small part of you does feel inclined to believe Steve when he talks about how wonderful his friend is, how caring he is, and how much he loves you.

Of course, the ‘love’ part of that statement isn’t actually correct, it’s fallen beyond that into obsession, delusion, and downright insanity. Steve doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, at this point, he seems to encourage it. The perfect hero the outside world sees is all a facade, because the longer you’ve been here the more you’ve seen of his true nature, one he doesn’t even seem to know the extent of.

You’re allowed upstairs today, Steve is unusually quiet as he drags you up to the bathroom. But when you’re done showering, instead of making you get dressed he turns slightly so he can hand you a razor while still looking away from your naked body. With a shaky hand, you slowly reach out and take it, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What’s this for?”

“To shave.” Even though you can’t see his face, you’re pretty sure Steve’s rolling his eyes. When he hears that you don’t move, Steve reaches into his pocket to pull out a knife, not too big but just big enough to scare you into getting with the program. “Hurry up.”

“O-Okay,” You mumble, getting back into the shower. You’re confused as to where he’s expecting you to shave, so you start with the basics; your underarms and legs. Through the fogged glass of the shower door, you see Steve lazily twirling the knife, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

You’re extremely confused as to why you’re being made to do this, though a small part of you has a suspicion. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been here, it feels like months, though that may be caused by the fact that you’re seldom allowed out of that deadly quiet and dark basement unless it’s to shower or watch those videos. Most of the time you’re left to yourself, simply waiting in the dark.

You’re careful to not cut yourself but the anxiety of what Steve would do if you weren’t quick forced you to rush.

As though Steve can tell you’re done, he makes sure to add, “Everywhere.”

Oh God, you think with tears in your eyes. I am meeting him today.

It’s awkward, extremely so, and you try your hardest to forget that Steve is in the room while you shave the rest of your body. That takes a few tedious minutes, something Steve seems to be aware of because he’s not rushing you through that part.

After finishing, it takes a few moments of deep breathing before you gain the courage to step out of the shower and take the towel next to it. And, as usual, it doesn’t take long for you to dry off, though you notice the lack of clothes on the counter.

What you do see is what looks like a light pink teddy-style lingerie set. The body is a see-through fabric yet the lace-covered cups, thankfully, cover your breasts. Very small panties rest next to it, so small you wonder how they can even be called underwear.

When Steve turns to look at you, you quickly wrap the towel around your body, vibrating with anxiety and dread. He nods to the set, then says, “I’ll be on the other side of this door, if you don’t come out in two minutes I’ll come and get you myself.” However, his dark tone and evil smirk let you know that he actually means he’ll forcefully drag you out.

As soon as the door closes and you’re alone, you pick up the thin underwear and slowly slide it up your legs, then you pull the teddy over your head and adjust it so the cups cover your breasts and the rest flows around your body, thankfully covering the underwear by just a few inches. It’s still see-through, so there is very little that’s left to the imagination.

And as you’re standing in the bathroom, you finally look at yourself in the mirror, but you don’t see your reflection. Someone else is staring back, someone with sunken eyes, no life to them at all. This body is thinner than you remember, though lack of proper food will do that to a person.

The person you’re staring at isn’t you, it may resemble you, but it’s not you. Although, who are you anymore? You’ve been alone with this man for months with no connection to the outside world, you haven’t had any positive human contact in what feels like forever, and your withered physical state seeps into your mental state.

You’re so tired. Sleep never comes easily, but even without that everything is just too much and overwhelming and all you want to do is curl into a ball on the floor and sob and try to forget that you’re being held captive, that you’ll probably never see your friends and family again.

A harsh knock on the door snaps you out of your daze. With one final look in the mirror, you turn and go to the door so you can open it and see Steve standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. You have the strong urge to cross your own arms to try and hide from his piercing gaze, but you don’t want to upset him any further by doing so. Quickly, Steve pulls out a blindfold from his pocket, his stare is a silent command to not move.

You’re shaking now, trying hard to stay still as he adjusts the blindfold over your head. Next, you feel a soft fabric wrap around your shoulders, and Steve moves your arms so he can slip what you assume to be a robe around your body. This, at least, you’re grateful for.

With that, Steve takes your arm in his grasp, pulling you along, though mindful of the fact that you can’t see.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late.”

____________

‘Come to the cabin’

That’s the text Steve sent that Bucky received right as he stepped off the quinjet. Curiosity rises, and his eyebrows furrow, and he types out a quick response as he walks towards Tony’s lab.

‘Why?’

‘Just do it’

Bucky huffs, texting back that he will after he gets his arm checked out. And now, knowing that Steve probably has something waiting for him back at the cabin he built, it seems to take forever for Tony to quit tinkering with the wires in his arm. His leg was bouncing the entire time, simply glaring at Tony any time he asked “What’s wrong tin-man?” But, finally, the work is done about an hour later and Bucky is quick to grab his bag and head down to his motorcycle.

It’s a couple hours drive from the tower to get to the cabin, and after he drives through the entrance of the land he purchased the roads get a little rockier, and Bucky curses softly every time his motorcycle wobbles slightly. It takes entirely too long for him to actually reach the house, and the entire ride over had him on edge, his natural anxiety peaking with every unanswered text he sends Steve.

Finally, finally, he gets there, parking his bike next to Steve’s car and taking note of its emptiness. Something seems off, and Bucky has to fight the urge to take out his gun, Steve’s here after all, nothing is going to happen.

Still, something is going on.

Bucky enters the cabin cautiously, silent footsteps traveling down the front hall to the living room where Steve stands, tall and proud and smiling wide.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says, the joy in his voice clear as day.

“Hey, Steve. What’s going on?” Bucky sets his bag down on the couch, looking around to see if anything is out of place. He’d finished decorating before he left for the mission, planning on taking you soon after he came back. But when his friend doesn’t answer, Bucky’s heart starts speeding up with anxiety.

“Steve?”

“Just…” Steve stops, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “Just come with me.”

With that, Steve starts towards the hall, ignoring Bucky’s questioning gaze. With no other choice, Bucky follows down the hall to his bedroom, where his friend stands in front of the closed door.

“I have a… welcome home present for you.”

Once again, Bucky’s eyebrows furrow because Steve has never given him a random gift before. Well, he likes to get Bucky little trinkets if he’s off on missions, but he’s never been this excited for a gift.

“Okay…” Bucky draws out the last syllable, walking forward with slow and cautious steps until he can step past his friend. With a deep breath and a questioning look to Steve, Bucky opens the door, his eyes automatically drawn to his bed.

“Steve…” Tears fill his eyes immediately, and if he wasn’t a super-soldier he’d think he was having a heart attack with how fast his heart is beating, how borderline painful the tightness in his chest is.

“Do you like it?”

Bucky ignores the question, simply walking forward until he reaches the side of the bed, sitting on the edge precariously. His hand reaches out, scared that this is a dream and he’ll wake up soon. He couldn’t take it if this was a dream, it’s too real to be a dream.

Because you’re finally here. Lying on his bed in a beautiful silk robe wrapped around your body, each of your arms and legs tied to the bedposts of the canopy bed. Bucky feels like fainting, like collapsing to the ground in tears.

“Steve,” Bucky chokes out, looking back at his friend who also has happy tears in his eyes. “How?”

“After you left for the mission, I just knew this was the perfect time. I lied to you about where she was, and I’m sorry for that, but I wanted to make sure I had time to get her ready.” Steve steps forward, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I told you I’d do anything for you, Buck.”

Bucky starts actually crying then. Oh how lucky he is to be surrounded by love, by his girl and his best friend who wants him to be happy. Steve squeezes his shoulder, letting Bucky lean into his stomach and cry for a minute. When the crying tapers off, Bucky manages to lean back so he can look Steve in the eyes.

“Thank you, Stevie. I mean it,” Bucky hiccups, wiping away his tears before looking back at you. You’re blindfolded with a cloth in your mouth, preventing you from seeing what’s going on, and unable to protest this whole thing.

“I’ll go now. You go enjoy your present.”

With that, Steve turns and leaves, giving his friend one last smile before it’s just you and Bucky.

“Angel,” Bucky whispers softly, his fingers brushing against your cheek. He strokes his thumb against your cheekbone, staring intensely yet lovingly at your quivering form. Slowly, he brings both of his hands up so he can untie the blindfold and throw it to the side. Your eyes blink open, immediately squinting at the harsh light. Something which Bucky seems to notice.

It’s scary, almost, how Bucky can seem to read your emotions because he rushes over to the light switch and dims them, letting your eyes adjust properly. He walks back over to the bed, deciding to lay down on his side next to your body, propping himself on his elbow so he can run his other hand over your covered stomach.

A muffled whine causes him to stop, his eyes looking up at you with a concerned gaze.

“What’s wrong, angel?” But then his eyes widen, seeming to realize that you can’t speak. He does something surprising, at least to you. He actually takes the gag out of your mouth, throwing it to the side as well. “Is that better?”

He asks so softly, so warmly, that it confuses you greatly. You’d heard about how much Bucky ‘loves’ you, but you didn’t realize exactly how far it went until now that you’re witnessing it for yourself. For a moment you’re not quite sure what to do. Do you beg him to let you go? Do you lash out at him? Do you cry?

You want to do all three, but you can’t. Your voice is caught in the back of your throat, you’ve gone mute, not even a whimper escaping your lips. There’s really nothing you’re able to do other than stare directly into Bucky’s eyes, still filled with tears of what must be joy.

“My angel?” He asks with a concerned tone, eyebrows furrowing. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

Again, confusion. But you haven’t spent more than a few minutes with him so you’re not quite sure how he’ll physically react if you do anything like you did with Steve. You decide to play it safe.

“My… My wrists hurt.” Your voice comes out smaller than intended, and you have to force yourself to keep eye contact with Bucky as his eyes widen again.

“Oh, shit,” Buckyy curses to himself, quickly shuffling onto his knees. “Don’t worry, baby.” Another surprise comes when he willingly and without much thought starts untying the rope binding your arms. And though your wrists are now freed, your ankles are still tied. On instinct, you shift your right leg, slightly tugging on the rope.

Bucky sees this too, though he hesitates for a second. Should he untie your legs? Bucky likes to think you wouldn’t run, but, realistically, he knows this is all new for you. Ultimately he decides to only free one ankle. Once he does so he starts rubbing and massaging the slight burn the rope left on your foot.

Bucky’s frowning now.

Leaning down, he presses a delicate kiss to the area, then he straightens up again. Bucky resumes his position next to you, though, this time, he rearranges you both so you’re lying in between his legs with your back pressed to his chest. For a moment, everything seems frighteningly normal, with Bucky pressing kisses to your temple and cheek as he starts soothing your wrists.

Your heartbeat is speeding up, and you’re so frozen with fear and confusion that you can’t do much else but let this all happen. Until, eventually, you’re able to find your voice.

“Um. I - Wha-”

“Oh, angel,” Bucky cuts you off with a coo. “I know you must be so confused, and I’ll explain everything, I promise.”

With care, Bucky moves your arms so he can hold both of your wrists in one of his hands. With his free hand he leans over to grab the picture frame on his nightstand, and brings it up so you can see it. And it brings tears to your eyes, one of concern for not just your physical safety but Bucky’s mental state.

Because it’s a picture of the two of you, horribly photoshopped to make it look like it would be a normal picture a couple in love would take. And this serves as a reminder of all the trauma he’s been through, and that maybe this is his way of coping.

A sick and twisted way of coping.

“I’m not too good with technology, as you can see,” Bucky huffs out a little laugh, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “But we don’t have any pictures together yet, so, until we could take some, this is the best I could do.”

Still unable to really say anything, you let out a cautious hum and let him continue.

“Looking at this picture, at all of the pictures I’ve taken over the last several months… it’s what helps me get through the day. Looking at you, knowing that one day you’d be mine, it’s that that keeps me sane. Knowing that I’ll get to love you for the rest of our lives is what makes all the pain I’ve endured worth it.”

“Why me?” It’s the first thought that crosses your mind at the moment, one you need to know the answer to.

“Oh, my angel,” Bucky coos again, placing the picture back down on the table so he can wrap both of his arms around your body, cuddling you close to his chest. “Why not you? You’re so beautiful, so kind, so innocent and sweet. I knew it from the moment I first saw you in that little library, curled up on that couch with a book in your hands. You were so focused on reading that you didn’t even realize I’d been staring at you for several minutes.”

Bucky chuckles again, squeezing you tighter to his chest until you let out a noise of pain. He immediately loosens his hold, murmuring an apology with his lips pressed against your temple. After a moment of tense silence, Bucky speaks again.

“Are you hungry?” That question receives a ‘yes’ in the form of your stomach grumbling. The man behind you laughs, then shuffles out from under you.

“Okay, darling, I’ll go get some food. You just lay here and look beautiful,” Bucky leans over you, gazing down at you with such intense devotion. “Beautiful,” he mutters to himself, almost as if he’s unaware he’s even speaking. With no warning, he leans his head down, and you’re narrowly able to dodge his kiss by turning your head.

Bucky sighs dejectedly, clearly not happy with that decision. You can feel the bedsheet next to you twist as he grips the sheets in frustration, and your heart rate spikes again in fear of what he might do.

He doesn’t do anything, merely moves off of your body and gives you one final longing look before heading off to fetch food.

As soon as he’s out of the room you’re sitting upright, hands immediately going to the rope and trying desperately to untie it. But it’s no use, of course it’s not, because Steve’s too smart to make the binds loose enough to even wiggle your foot out of the loop.

It takes no more than five minutes for Bucky to come back, returning with a bowl of soup and a glass you’re hoping is just water. Upon hearing his arrival, you resume your original position, hoping that Bucky won’t notice the fact that you were desperately tearing at the ropes.

He doesn’t seem to because he just moves you both into position - your back to his chest. When you try to take a sip of the water, Bucky gently swats your hand away, taking charge by being the one to hold the glass to your lips, the one who feeds you your soup, the one that holds you tight to his chest as though this is all normal.

And as you’re eating, so many emotions are running through your body. Fear and confusion are the more prominent ones. Though, you’re so exhausted that part of you doesn’t appear to care.

So, for the time being, you let this happen, let yourself be held and hand-fed by the man holding you captive.

____________

Six months. Or has it been seven? Hell, a year? You’re not too sure. Due to your… situation, you haven’t been allowed outside, nor are you allowed to watch the news. The only true concept of time you have are the clocks littered throughout the house.

There’s nothing good about any of this, but at least Bucky has been nothing but kind to you. He treats you with care, gives you soft kisses in the morning, and leaves you little love notes in random places he knows you’ll see. He’s infuriatingly perfect, and you so desperately want to forget that you didn’t come here of your own free will, that you’ve been forced away from your family and friends and normal life. Because if you’d met him naturally you’re sure you would have loved him, you would have cherished the way he dotes over and so clearly adores you. It’s the life you’ve always wished for.

That wish was granted in the form of being held captive by a man who is so clearly in mental distress. His obsession with you almost makes you feel sick, like if anything happened to you he’d mentally break, and that scares you. It’s frightening because you don’t want anything to happen to him. Sure, you’re not in love with him and you’re still on slightly guard, but you know what he’s been through. You know all the pain he’s endured, all the torture and torment.

He deserves happiness, and you’re getting kind of scared of what will happen to him if anything happens to you.

Fuck, you think, what’s happening to me?

You’re not too sure exactly what day it is, but Bucky has been giddy ever since you both woke up. He let you sleep in, cuddling you close for a good thirty minutes and giving you absentminded kisses every once in a while before he decided to get up and make breakfast.

When he leaves the sane part of you forces you to quickly glance around the room in an attempt to find a way out. You know you won’t though, all the doors in the house are locked and there’s only one window in this room that’s made of bulletproof glass that’s bolted shut - something you found out when you desperately tried opening it when you first got here.

You’d been here for about two weeks, walking on eggshells around Bucky in an effort to not upset him. Sure, he seems to be the opposite of Steve in his actions, but you’re still unsure of how he’d truly be if you acted out - his metal arm is a major factor in that anxiety.

At the time Bucky was in the kitchen setting things up for your first ‘date’ and had been researching different recipes for the last week to make this meal perfect. He placed candles on the table and had glasses of your favorite wine set up, red rose petals littering the cloth-covered table.

He went back to the room when he heard loud thumps, and when he did get there he saw you banging on the window - rather aggressively. Tears filled your eyes as you whimpered sadly, unable to break the glass.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks with a confused tone.

You whip around, eyes widened in fear because surely this would get you into major trouble. Now the tears in your eyes aren’t out of despair, they’re out of fear. What is he going to do to you? Hopefully nothing worse than Steve’s already done, but there’s no way for you to know.

“Are you… trying to leave?” What’s weird is that he sounds sad, heartbroken really. Like he can’t believe that you’d want to leave when he’s shown that he can provide for you.

You’re unable to find your words, so you simply back up until your back hits a wall, and your arms come up to your chest as you cower away from him. Your eyes betray you by glancing back to the window.

“No, you - you can’t leave me!” Bucky’s voice raises, now almost angry - though you’re not too sure if it’s directed completely at you.

But then your eyes glance past Bucky toward the door, assessing the situation and making a quick determination on whether you could push past him and run out of the room.

“No. No, don’t you dare leave me!” He begs loudly, taking three large steps forward until he’s right in front of your shivering form. “Not like this, I - I just… I just got you.” One of his hands comes up to gently hold one of your wrists, his other hand moving to caress your cheek, though you can’t help but flinch when his hand gets closer.

“I-I’m sorry,” You whimper, clenching your eyes shut to avoid looking at the absolute despair evident on Bucky’s face. “I - I didn’t… I was just… I-” You can’t find many words, you’re just hoping your begging will prevent this from escalating.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Bucky sniffles, causing you to peek an eye open. And Bucky, well, he looks concerned, confused, hurt. Tears are falling down his cheeks as he shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, bringing your wrist up so he can place a kiss on your palm. “I would never hurt you. I don’t… I don’t know what Steve said or did but I - I promise! I won’t hurt you, ever. Just…”

At your wide eyes and worried gaze Bucky falls to his knees, placing his forehead against your stomach and wrapping both of his arms around your waist to prevent you from moving.

“Just don’t leave me.”

You felt so guilty that you hadn’t tried again since.

You sighed, rolling over and laying on your back. Looking to your right, your gaze lands on a framed photo of you sleeping on Bucky’s chest from a few months ago. While there are plenty of pictures of you and him scattered throughout the cabin, this one is Bucky’s favorite. Because this was on your supposed three-month anniversary.

Bucky had woken up early that morning, fully intending to start the special day by making you breakfast. However, he knew from the moment his eyes opened that it would be nearly impossible to physically move for a while. Your body was almost completely lying on top of his, pinning him to the bed with your face tucked into his neck. Of course, he could easily move you without even waking you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave his version of paradise.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a soft whistle, the noise getting louder the closer Bucky gets to your room. Sitting up, you look to the door and see him entering with a tray filled with coffee, orange juice, pancakes, and your favorite assortment of fruits. The single red rose in a small vase is the cherry on top.

Fuck him for being perfect.

Bucky sets the tray down on the table next to his side of the bed then crawls under the covers again, pulling you to sit sideways on his lap.

“Good morning, my angel,” He mumbles as he presses small kisses to your cheek. You force a smile, though you can’t deny that part of it is real. It feels good to be loved and cherished, and you’re trying so hard to remind yourself that this isn’t that, this isn’t where you’re meant to be.

But Bucky is good at making you forget that part.

“Um, what’s all this for?” You ask timidly, your eyes glancing from the food to Bucky, whose eyes soften with sympathy.

“You didn’t know? It’s our anniversary!” His smile brightens, his arms tightening his hold around your body to hug you closer to his chest. “Six months ago, Steve gave me the best gift I’ve ever received.”

Six months? Time sure flies when you have no perception of it.

“Oh,” You whisper, fiddling with your fingers. “I-I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”

Bucky shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he says, “It’s okay, darling.”

“But I didn’t get you a gift,” You say remorsefully, glancing around the room as though you’ll find anything.

“Oh, no. No baby, you don’t have to get me anything. You being here is more than enough for me.” Bucky’s smile widens, placing a hand on the back of your neck so he can angle your head in just the right position that he can lean down and press his lips against yours. It’s soft, gentle, just like how Bucky treats you.

When he leans back he rests his forehead on yours, letting your lips brush against each other.

“I love you, angel,” He murmurs, not wanting to ruin the serenity of the moment.

And you have to try so hard not to tense, because those words always make you remember that you’ve been kidnapped and taken to some house in the middle of nowhere. It reminds you that this man is deeply disturbed, that he needs more help than he probably thinks if he thinks that this is true love.

But you smile anyway, trying to not let it waver when you reply with, “I love you too, Bucky.” And Bucky looks like he’s about to cry, just like every other time you tell him you love him.

There’s a few moments of silence, tears of joy in Bucky’s eyes while yours are filled with tears of exhaustion. You’re tired. So fucking tired of pretending. But for the time being, you’re just going to let yourself be held, you’re just going to let go of all of your negative emotions and melt into the moment.

“Angel?” When Bucky pauses, you hum in curiosity.

“Can you kiss me again?”

#let me know what y'all think!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky fic rec #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #stalker!bucky #soft!dark!bucky #my writing #jessybarnesreaches500

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wellnessgirlblog · 1 year ago

Text

60 Days Challenge ༉‧₊˚

This is like my own version of the 75 Day Hard Challenge. For the next two months, I will follow these daily rules:

Follow a meal plan.

Drink 8-10 glasses of water.

Exercise daily.

Read 10 pages of any book.

Follow a morning and night routine.

Less than 3 hrs of screen time.

Keep track everyday.

1. Meal Plan:

I will add vegetables or fruits at each meal and fast 16:8 three times a week. I will focus on eating in moderation and adding healthy foods rather than restricting some type of food.

2. Hydration:

In addition to water, I will have two cups of tea (one in the morning and one at night). I won't drink anything else.

3. Exercise:

I will do some form of exercise every day, for at least 30 minutes, and I will stretch for at least 10 minutes. The main goal is to move !!! so I will do whatever suits my day the most.

4. Reading:

I love reading ! The minimum is 10 pages, but I'll try to read as much as possible. This will also be a way of not spending too much time on the phone.

5. Daily routines:

I want to start and end the day the right way. I created my routines based on what was best for me and my schedule. For example, my morning routine is short and simple because I don't have a lot of time, and my night routine is focused on relaxing because otherwise I have a hard time sleeping.

6. Less than 3 hrs of screentime:

This doesn't include time in screens for school. My goal here is to limit the time I spend on social media and spend that time on other activities instead. I will probably only use that time for my duolingo lessons, watch a movie or post on tumblr, and I will set a timer everytime I use a screen.

7. Keep a record:

I will keep a record here of how I feel every day during this challenge. The goal with this is to realize what works and what doesn't, in order to improve. I also think it's easier for me to stay on track if I write it down somewhere.

1K notes · View notes

uno-san · 3 months ago

Note

Can i request a continuation of your first fic? Stan eventually admitting the Mr. Mystery who sent the flowers wasn’t a secret admirer but infact Mr. Mystery himself?

First of all, I am so honored to have a request for a continuation! Truly one of the highest compliments. And reading back on comments before, I should have made a second part long ago! I had so much fun writing this and thanks to all who have read my work. Part 1 can be found here. There's a small recap written in this part though so reading it isn't required :) Enjoy! Mr. Pines, Part 2 (Stanley Pines x Reader)

Nearing the end of summer was always a melancholic event. In which the busiest season of the year would descend back down to hell and allow the workload to dwindle off to a manageable amount at the Mystery Shack yet leave you with a sense of grief at another amazing summer gone. It wasn’t like that before.

Ever since becoming a full-fledged adult with a life and responsibilities, the seasons and months had a way of blending together as one week after the next you were simply looking forward to the next paycheck. It was torture. Arguably not a way of living at all.

Keyword being before.

Sure, you could do without the new occupational hazard of being killed by a mecha-suit made out of feral gnomes, mind-wiping cultists, and God knows what else. Yet despite all the life-threatening danger, you’ve never been more alive! Everyday holds the potential for a new adventure and memories to make with the friends that you never thought you had.

That was the sadness about summer ending, however. Soos would remain at the shack but your other dependable co-worker, Wendy, would be off focusing on school. The same for Dipper and Mabel, who would leave Gravity Falls and Mr. Pines- Ah.

Stanley.

You were in the middle of sweeping the trampled wood floors of the Mystery Shack when the name made you stop in your tracks. It always did. Worse yet, it’d have you chew the inside of your cheek to stop them from heating up. It made you feel juvenile. Quickly your eyes swept across the shop and back as if you chanted his name three times. When there was no puff of smoke you let out a sigh of relief.

It was the start of summer where your more challenging trails began. That being Stanley Pines, the older man who was the owner of the Mystery Shack and your boss, who had given you permission to call him by his first name. Having done so, naturally, on a day where a secret admirer, or, ‘Mr. Mystery’ (Whom Stanley says he’ll sue for stealing his title) sent you a beautiful arrangement of flowers. God, you can still remember what a pain it was to lug the large vase back home. It was a wonder how Wendy was able to do it all herself without having a car to help.

To add to the confusion already surrounding that day when Stan hadn’t confessed to being the culprit, you were disappointed. Your shoulders slumped when Wendy had reasoned it had to be someone else. Instead of wanting to know who this secret admirer was you were instead interested in knowing when in the hell you developed a crush on the graying con man that was your boss. Not that there were tons of eligible bachelors in Gravity Falls but then they’d be in your age range! Or ones with no criminal record, strong arms, jokes, a handsome face that could draw you in at any moment to share a sweet kiss with-

Fingers snap in front of your face. The sharp sound caused you to jump in response and fumble with the broom to prevent it from falling.

“Hey, kid!”

Stanley’s hoarse voice rang out from beside you; your shoulders tensed while your newfound grip on the broom handle could have splintered it. He must have noticed the panic in your face as he quickly raised his hands as if to show he wasn’t armed.

“Oh, Mr. Stans, I-”

“Huh? I…don’t know if, what-” The perplexed expression he made killed you in a thousand ways before his head shook out the unnecessary thoughts, “NEVERMIND ALL THAT. Forget it. I just wanted to ask ya to get started on restocking the bumper sticker display, alright? Last time to peddle the stuff out while we have the most out-of-town folk. Can ya do that?”

You nod, “Of course! I’ll get started on it straight away, S-Stan.”

The smile you offered didn’t appear to reassure him any as he lingered a moment. His hands were firmly planted on his hips while he actually leaned down to inspect you. Drawing close enough into your space that you had to nearly arch your spine not to bump into the man. Under his gaze all you could do was swallow the thick lump of nervousness that always choked you when Stanley was near.

Suddenly he blinked. As if Stan had just realized how the distance between your two had closed without his notice. Awkwardly Stanley stepped back and coughed into his hand. Your overactive imagination could have sworn his cheeks were tinged pink, “Just, ah…checking to see ya didn’t have a heat stroke or nothing. You don’t, so, start drinking water before you start freaking out the tourists. Got it, kid?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead stomping off to wrangle some poor soul into buying poorly-produced and expensive merchandise. You watched him from where you stood still, now overcome with a flurry of emotions from that blundered interaction. If a Gnome Mech wasn’t going to kill you then Stanley Pines sure as hell was.

With a shake of your head you did your best to gain control of yourself once more while the day threatened to drag on. On the way to the storage room you passed by Wendy. Who, as always, was laid back. She nodded towards you. You returned it without reveling in the silent approval of a teenager before you disappeared in the backroom to grab the needed box. Luckily it was light and allowed you to grab another heftier box full of other items that were in need of refilling and maintenance. It didn’t hurt to put a bit more effort into your job, after all.

Returning to the main room in front of the counter you could finally begin your work. It was almost therapeutic. Nobody bothering you. No immediate death threats or wild twins to wrangle in. Just you and a box of bumper stickers being neatly tucked away into different stacks.

You would have started humming to yourself if something hadn’t felt…off.

Something behind you had begun to radiate heat. Breathing down your neck and causing a nervous drop of sweat to run down your forehead. Slowly you began to turn around until a hot breath suddenly blew across your face, your eyes meeting with another pair with barely a head turn.

“OH, JESUS!”

The shock of it had you bring your arm back to slap the stack of bumper stickers across the cheek of someone not all too unfamiliar. Who you now recognized as Thompson yelped at the contact and went to quickly shield his face with a previously unnoticed bouquet of roses, “Dude, duuuuuuude, stop!” He cried out while his eyes were skewered shut with pain, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I- What-” You dropped the merchandise in your hand as if they alone had somehow enticed you to assault a poor teenager, “No, I mean…Shit. I’m sorry, I guess?” In the midst of your guilt it was hard to pin the blame on anyone, “What in the actual hell were you doing-”

“What in the actual hell- HECK is going on over here?” Stanley’s voice cut through the confusion. His heavy footsteps nearly rattled the walls of the Mystery Shack as he came to inspect the commotion. Stanley’s eyes fell onto the scattered merchandise that caused his frown to be deeper set, eyebrows furrowed in a conflicting mix of emotions.

“Alright, there better be a good explanation for all this racket. You’re distracting the customers- WHAT IS THAT?” His eyes grew impossibly wide as he gestured wildly to the bouquet.

You opened your mouth to reply before the bell attached to the front door rang to grab your attention. Stepping through was Lee, the taller blonde teen that you’ve seen attached to Wendy’s friend group, miraculously holding a bundle of roses in hand.

“He’s lying to you!” Lee shouted and clutched at his heart in either a romantic gesture or a heart attack, “I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!”

“Lee,” Thompson began to what you could only describe as stage-whisper in his friend’s direction, “I didn’t get to my part yet, I got frickin hit!” His hand moved to reveal the slightly pink mark on his cheek.

Lee lost his composure, “Aw, really? Bro, that’s fucking hilarious. But like…c’mon, bro, you gotta do your part before Nate gets here.”

“Wait, Nate?” Your confusion deepened as they ignored you in favor of having a whispered back and forth, with Lee pushing Thompson forward who nearly collided into you with the shove. The look you gave him was of someone afraid of a bomb about to go off.

Thompson wiped the sweat off his brow before offering his flowers with the same hand, “I like, fricken LIKE you, dude! Just love your whole deal,” He confessed with cheeks as hot as the son while he practically had to spit the words out. His heavy breathing began to pick up. Opening his palm you noticed that there was smudged ink on it that he was now trying to read, “T-That’s why I bought you the flowers-”

“WHAAAAAAAT???” Stanley suddenly roared to life while his hands tightened into fists. In a tantrum similar to a child he marched up, glowing down at poor Thompson who’d gone stark white.

“He’s lying to you! I’m the one who bought it for you, not HE!” Lee repeated. Stepping forward he cast a concerned glance towards the statue that was once his friend to present his own bundle of flowers to you.

The pollen made you want to sneeze. Impressively Lee managed to ignore Stanley to continue addressing you, “It’s true, I’m Mr. Mystery. And it’s even truer that I’m into older, uh…” He looked you up and down, “Into older individuals.”

Your brows drew closer together in concern, “How old do you think I am?”

Lee bit his lip and raised his brows in what he must have thought was a seductive look, “Old enough, bro.”

Thankfully you didn’t have to respond to that as Stanley’s hand shot forward to grab at Lee’s flowers, tossing them to the ground as if he was spiking a football and causing petals to fly everywhere. Lee stared at his hand in shock before having his attention drawn to Stanley who had the both of them in his sights and looking ready to strike.

“I’m not going to take any kinda lying in my house! Neither you or dweebus here bought ‘em any flowers. You two dorks don’t have the kind of cash for that sorta gesture anyway!”

“Uh, we totally could,” Lee said in an offended tone, “Flowers are like, 8 bucks at the grocery store.”

“The ones delivered weren’t from no grocery store, it was a specialized boutique!” “How’d you know that? Huh?”

“Gardening. Is. My. HOBBY.” Stanley passionately replied through gritted teeth.

“No, it’s not.” Wendy answered, bored.

This was starting to give you a headache in more ways than one. Especially in the sense that the few customers in the shop were beginning to stare you down, no doubt finding this whole spectacle the biggest mystery of the day. It made you want to shrink away and disappear into nothing! Sure, you were just lamenting the end to an exciting summer but this wasn’t the type of bang you wanted it to go out on!

Turning towards Wendy you had prayed she would be of help to wrangle in her friends while Stanley and Lee argued in the background. To your disappointment Wendy was hardly paying attention. To both you and her actual job while she busily texted on her phone. You waved your hand out in front of her.

“Please, a little help?” You were nearly begging, “Think maybe all your friends hit their heads at the same time or something. I don’t even know how they knew about the whole flower thing- WHAT, THOMPSON?”

The nervous teen had managed to shuffle past his friend and your boss. Apparently he had given up reading his hand to instead have his phone pulled out. His eyes would flicker between you and the screen before he tried shoving his remaining flowers back into your face again as opposed to your conveniently open hands.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May-”

“NO. No. No, no, no, noooo!” Like a sheep being surrounded by wolves you staggered back. Your growing panic is now drawing the attention of Stan and Lee who managed to stop arguing long enough to see you turn tail and run, “I’m going home until whatever this is blows over!”

What you expected to be an awkward exit quickly turned to a horror show as Lee and Thompson actually pursued you.

“W-Wait! We didn’t get to the part about how there’s soooo many other bachelors after you!” One of them yelled.

“Yeah, and that waiting too long to snatch you up will result in losing your love fooooreeevveeer,” The other, for whatever reason, said this more towards Stan. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” You shouted off behind you while carefully dodging between both aisles and customers alike.

Seeing as you had two stalkers on your tale Stanley raised a fist, “Hey! No harassing my, uh- favorite employee! Wendy, get my crossbow!”

“No.”

If they started arguing or not after that was none of your concern as you were apparently in a struggle for your life. If your heart wasn’t going to give out on you yet then the embarrassment would definitely get you by the time you get home. God, this was all starting to feel like a fever dream. Or maybe you DID die this summer and now you were in some sick limbo?

Whatever this was, it was clearly because of one thing. The incident with the flowers you received a couple months back, to be exact. After that day there had been no further gifts. How was it connected? Especially to Wendy’s friends of all people who you had the pleasure of not interacting with much at all this summer.

Perhaps they had been the ones to send the flowers in the first place? Attempting to draw you in further with a date to pull a prank on you. Trying to film your reaction for a video that they’d laugh about for ages to come and torment you with.

But no. That couldn’t be it.

Humiliation was certainly what they were achieving right now but if that had been the goal they would have pushed for it when the flowers had first been delivered. Give you a way to contact this ‘Mr. Mystery’. But they hadn’t. So what was the point of now?

You supposed this could haunt you later instead seeing as you had two hot pursuers on your tail. Both Lee and Thompson were still flinging compliments your way while Stanley struggled to catch up between having to clean up any spills along the way as well. Whenever you were able to catch a glance of him you’d shoot an apologetic look that he’d wave off.

It was another minute of dodging the two before you were able to loop your way back around to the front of the Mystery Shack, towards the parking lot and where your car was. To safety. A part of you was even willing to mow down a rowdy teen if you had too! But fate had other plans. The door swung open and you skidded to a halt; nearly crashing into the poor unsuspecting soul who-

It was Nate.

He saw you and grinned, slowly raising a damn bouquet of roses, “Heeeeey, just who I wanted to see! Wanna take a guess at who your secret admirer is? Hint, it’s me!”

Oh, come the fuck on.

Nate must have noticed a deranged look in your eye seeing as he took an awkward step back he clearly hadn’t planned on. From behind you could hear the heavy thudding of feet as Lee and Thompson had finally caught up. Great. You looked both ways. They had an expectant expression on their faces that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Alright, alright, break it up you hormonal goblins. Get BACK, I say!”

Stanley’s voice was like the calm in the storm. It gave you something to focus and center yourself on. You hadn’t even noticed him stepping closer to you before it was too late. Two strong hands clamped around the delicate curve of your waist while thick fingers tickled into your skin. The grasp had a shiver run up your spine. Then what started as a tender embrace quickly became a vice when you were lifted off of your feet.

You actually squeaked. In a display of strength you thought only adrenaline could achieve Stanley had hoisted you above his head and out of reach from your ‘admirers’. Like the tallest kid playing ‘keep away’ in the schoolyard. From below you could see the three teen’s jaws drop at the display while a nearby customer asked if this was part of the tour.

Stan must have heard it since a blush came to his cheeks a moment after yet he refused to release you, “We’ll, uh…just go for now. Break time and whatnot…WENDY, MAN THE STORE!” He shouted while beginning to push his way back towards the employee area of the shack. It wasn't until he was passing staring customers he coughed out a reluctant, “Stop watching and we’ll have a ‘buy two, get one full price’ sale.”

That disappeared the crowd quickly who were now buzzing with excitement at the prospect of a deal. Stanley began to walk you back. With no eyes on the two of you, Stan cautiously began to lower you down. Not to your feet, however. Instead you were brought back into his chest where you had more cushion to lay against. Despite the summer heat his body warmth only drew you in. Not to even get started on how hot your face already was from blushing for the last few minutes!

Stanley meanwhile had his eyes glued to the path ahead. Afraid that taking one glance in your direction would make him regret coming to your rescue at all and depriving himself the chance of seeing you blush longer. Though it was certainly a motivator to have a couple of guys flinging compliments your way so freely as well. God. Wasn’t he too old to be getting into a pissing contest with teens at this point?

Too old in general. Both with having a silly school crush on his employee and also trying to lug you around as if he was twenty years younger. Stan made it look easy but his back pain would be coming back with a vengeance tomorrow!

With your hand resting against his chest though it was hard to deny it was worth it.

Having led you towards the back office Stanley stepped in and used his back foot to kick the door shut behind you two, blocking the light from the shop to leave you in near darkness if it wasn’t for the rare ray of light peering from behind the closed blinds. Without the stark lighting the office was almost calming in contrast. That, or you loved hearing Stanley’s steady breathing more than you realized or the soft beating of his heart if you concentrated on your hand long enough.

Stan moved for the desk. It was crowded with various papers and trinkets he’d keep around to distract himself. At first you had thought he had been in search of something in particular until his hands shifted, with one suddenly slipping just under your butt to keep you hoisted up while the now free one began to clear a space for you.

Your entire posture stiffened once consumed with the realization that your boss was, to put it crudely, grabbing your ass. In spite of how rough they looked, his hands were tender. Mindful. Which judging from his expression you doubted he noticed where he placed his hand at all while tidying up his desk. You were grateful for the distraction. That way he couldn’t see the conflict in your eyes on whether you liked the contact or not after the day you had.

“Here we go…” His rumbling voice brought you back from the brink of a new meltdown as he settled you down onto the hard surface of the desk with your legs dangling over the edge. Yet his hands didn’t leave. Instead they attached back to around your waist with a feather light touch, as if the first hint of disapproval at the contact would knock them back. You showed no such sign, so they stayed.

“You, ah…all good, then?” Stanley seemed to have trouble meeting your eye, “From the dorks. I mean, they hang around Wendy all the time and get into shit, yeah, but they’re not dangerous or nothing. But if they had hurt ya-”

“I’m fine, Stanley,” You said with a soft and assuring tone, “Traumatized, maybe, but…Thank you for saving me.”

He nearly buckled at the ice-melting smile you gave him. For just a moment his fingers tapped against your skin as if they had been tempted to clasp around you tighter. They didn’t. Instead Stanley appeared to realize how close the two of you had gotten and shuffled out of the way, taking his body heat with him as he turned his back towards you to instead fixate his attention elsewhere in the room. Anywhere but you.

Stanley nodded after what seemed an eternity, “No problem. Besides, it’d be bad for the brand to have so many ‘Mr. Mystery’ running around! It’s protected IP!”

At that you found yourself chuckling, “Is this your way of saying you’re tired of hearing about the flowers?” Not that you’d blame him considering what a hot topic it was when it had first happened.

First, Mabel couldn't ignore any degree of romantic gesture without her wanting to be involved with it. Second, this was a small town with nothing to do on the good days. Toby Determined even tried to get an interview (How word got out was beyond you) and Stanley again had to come to your rescue by chasing him off with a broom. With today’s incident you began to worry that this would be a monthly chore for Stanley.

At the suggestion of Stanley getting irritated about anything involving you nearly made him jump to correct that assumption, “NO, I could listen to it aaaall day! Just not going to just stand around and let a couple of liars waltz in to take credit for it.” He said, “I mean, c’mon, they really think those flowers were from the grocery store? Please, I- whoever has way more class than that!”

You giggled at that, which was nice considering how embarrassed you were earlier. But Stan always did put you at ease with all the jokes or lax attitude he’d have to offer no matter the situation. What others found frustrating you found endearing.

“For all the class that he has, you’d think he’d have come forward by now, don’t you think?”

He gave you a look, “What do you mean?”

“Just that it’s been all summer since it’s happened. Not a word since,” You shrug and take your turn to stare somewhere else, “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound demanding or anything. But you gotta admit it’s rude to leave someone on edge like that, you know? Just makes me think they lost interest or something.”

Stanley didn’t reply. After seemingly going out of his way to avoid looking at you, you were all he could stare at now. His lips were drawn in a tight frown that settled unnaturally on his face. You were so used to his smiles. Now your boss had an odd expression of contemplation. The way his darkened eyes bore into you made you squirm where you sat, anxiously squeezing your legs together to try and keep your blush at bay.

It was an achievement that you were able to hold a normal conversation with him at all. After the shocking realization that you were disappointed that Stanley never took credit for the original gift, your time at the Mystery Shack had gotten far more difficult outside of the daily threat to your life. Especially when Mabel was like a bloodhound when it came to romance. And when there wasn’t any to be found you could be damn sure that she’d create your own, one way or the other. She was a menace.

“Kid, listen, I-”

“I guess I should-”

Your words quickly amalgamated until the two of you stopped to give the other an apologetic glance. Then silence again. Each prompting the other to continue their dialogue with a vague hand gesture. Both of your hesitancy grew with conflicted gazes.

“I-”

“I-” Stanley slapped his hand over his face to muffle his groan, “Oh, goddammit.”

You flinched at the frustration in his words, “Sorry, sorry! I was just trying to say I should go back to work if they’re all gone.”

Preparing to hop off of the desk you were instead met with Stanley’s large hands suddenly pinning yours to the desk before you could push off. His fingers nearly interlaced with yours. They were trembling. He was towering over you again to the point you had to arch your back to make room for him. Seeing this he released one of your hands to instead place his on the small of your back, supporting your posture.

Stanley’s face was now inches from yours. What little light that came into the room reflected off of his glasses and obscured his eyes. Could he have been taking in your flushed face and wide eyes? Or perhaps he was taking notice of your parted lips. You hoped it was that.

“I…I wasn’t swearing at ya. Just frustrated that I’m not being as smooth as I wanna be,” Stanley spoke in a tone far softer than you’ve ever experienced. With his voice rumbling in his chest it was like a soothing purr. He then swallowed what must have been a lump in his throat, “Listen, it was…It was me who-”

You captured him in a kiss. It was neither passionate or loving, but something new. It was potential. In this instance it was the best kiss you’ve ever had with chapped lips. Intended to be a quick peck you could still feel Stanley’s hands grasp you tighter as his entire posture grew stiff.

A second passes and you pull back, “I’m sorry, I should have let you finish,” You laughed, both at your overexcitement and his stunned expression, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it. Keep going, please.”

Stanley didn’t respond right away as he instead simply stared at you. It was blatantly obvious when the reality of the situation began to hit him as his signature grin stretched across his face. How could an old man be so cute?

“So, uh-” He cleared his throat, “Guess I was saying that I’m the Mr. Mystery. Both at work and as your secret admirer, though I guess not that secret if you knew…Anyways I really like ya! You’ve got spunk, looks, smarts. I mean, how was I not supposed to send any sorta flowers- You get the point!”

This time he drew you in for a kiss. His was more brash and needy as if you’d change your mind at the last second. Using his grip on you he brought you closer until your bodies were pressed against each other and he slotted between your legs to fit. So intimately close yet born from the innocent need of wanting to be near you. This kiss lasted as long as you had air in your lungs.

The both of you parted from the kiss with a dopey smile.

“I didn’t necessarily know, by the way…” You mention after catching your breath, “Just realized how much I wanted it to be you after Wendy suggested it had been sent by someone else.”

Stan hummed in amusement while his hand began to rub up and down the curve of your back, “That so? Guess all that was just your way of getting to confess, eh? Gotta admit, that’s unexpected. But sneaky. I like it!”

“What?” You tilted your head in question, “You mean what happened with all of her friends? I was just starting to think that was you.”

He shook his head. The sweet mood was paused as the both of you had a confused look while playing the strange events over in your head. Stanley snapped you out of it by giving you a squeeze; with it a reminder of your new flourishing relationship with your boss Stanley Pines. You looked back up to see his grin return and a new twinkle in his eye.

“Ehh, we can figure that out some other time, toots,” He said with a wave of his hand to push the thoughts away, “Besides, we probably have a few minutes to uh, make up for lost time, if you get what I mean.” Stanley wiggled his eyebrows at you and made you giggle.

“Depends. Does this count as my break, Stanley?”

“It absolutely does.”

“What? C’mooooon, man.”

__ Outside of the Mystery Shack, hidden amongst the trees and brush, was the sharp glare of the sun reflecting off of glass. Binoculars, to be exact. Behind them being a young girl who wore a thick sweater in spite of the heat. She was biting down on her tongue in concentration as she scanned the building from one window to the next. Where could they be?

From beside her the bushes began to rustle. The noise attracted her attention and she turned in time to capture the magnified image of Wendy’s growing teen pimples as she stepped out from the woods. Mabel chose not to comment on this.

“Status report!” Mabel said in a tone far too commanding for a young girl like her to have. Regardless of this Wendy saluted.

“Mission happened, I guess,” Wendy gave a half-assed thumbs up, “The boys kind of went crazy in there so we didn’t get the romantic confession you dreamed of exactly. But they’re alone, at least?”

“Why, they went crazy under my order, lieutenant! Their goal was to be crazy in love,” She emphasized her words with a dramatic close of her first brought close to her chest, “And nooooow I’m trying to see the romantic confession but they have the blinds closed! Could you imagine trying to hide your love?! It’s inconvenient!!”

As if paranoid something would happen without her watchful eye Mabel returned to her vigilant duty of watching a closed window. Wendy meanwhile had her gaze darted away a moment as if struggling to find what to say. Eventually she rubbed the back of her neck and coughed to get her young friend’s attention,

“You know, it’s…probably a good thing the window is closed if your plan did work, Mabel. I don’t think you’d want to see what you think you’d be seeing.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re prooobably swapping spit right now, Mabel.”

Instantly the binoculars clattered against the hard ground as Mabel nearly convulsed, “Eew, ew, EW! And that’s too much of a picture for Mabel!” Quickly she climbed out of her hiding spot in the bushes to begin following Wendy who was laughing, “I gotta go wash out my mind’s eye now!” "That's probably for the best. Let's just trust them to move that last step themselves, alright, cupid?"

Both girls were laughing now as they returned to the Mystery Shack while patting each other on the back for a job well-done.

#Gravity Falls #Stanley Pines #Gravity Falls fanfic #Gravity Falls x Reader #Stanley Pines x Reader #Reader Insert #hunkle stan #requests #my story #gf stanley pines #mabel pines #wendy corduroy

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t0msvi4gra · 3 months ago

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This might be weird and controversial but can you write like a smut scene where tom is like a teacher and he's a married man with children and stuff and there's like an age gap between him and the reader, who is rebellious and failing his subject. One day after tom has finished correcting the exams and noticed how she failed again he was completely fed up and called her to his office and she was wearing very provocative clothing (a mine skirt and a blouse that shows her cleavage) and she tries to flirt with tom to let her pass and at some point he gets really fed up and bends her over the table/spanks her and says stuff like "you dirty fucking slut", while lecturing her on her bad grades after that he fingers her but he doesn't all the way have sex with he cus he remembers his wife and shi but he just couldn't control himself

its not weird at all!! i promise my acc is a safe space for your fantasies or anything!!

AGE GAP | TOM KAULITZ X READER

warning: reader is 18, tom is 26

you have always been a good student, you’ve got good grades and you’ve turned in your work on time, but professor kaulitz’s class is challenging for you and you’ve really really tried.

but you turned in a test to him but the next day, tom asked to see you in his classroom.

“yes sir? you wanted to see me.” you ask hovering your books over your skirt. “yes please sit.” he says as he gets up and puts your test on your desk. “whats going on? why havent you been asking me for help? or your peers?” he asks softly but sternly.

“i dont know. im sorry. im trying i swear.” you say fidgeting with your fingers.

“so what i’m gonna have you do is stay after so we can go over the questions, then you can retake tomorrow in class okay?”

“but sir i cant-“ he cuts you off “doesnt matter you need to arrange that okay? you have your notes.” you reluctantly nod. “fine.”

you look up at him for a few seconds. you always found him hot… and the things he could do to you. you quickly stop thinking like that but you feel yourself getting wet. you shut your legs tighter together and you start to correct your test.

“whats wrong, honey?” he asks with mock innocence. “n-nothing, sir. just cold.” you gulp and he gets closer and he puts his hand on your thigh, his hand traveling up.

his hand reaches your panties. “come on, focus baby.” he says teasing you as he gently rubs your clit through your panties.

“s-so this- p-art me..means..” you get cut off my the feeling of his fingers on your clit. “means what baby?” he whispers in your ear. “means.. divide right?” you manage to say. “mhm… now solve it for me.” he says lowly and he puts your hands in your panties. “this is what happens when you dont put effort in my tests..” he whispers and he puts his hand in your panties and he inserts his fingers in you. “damn youre so wet.” he says as you throw your head back and he covers your mouth so no one would hear you. “shh shh…” he shushs you as you squirt a little and it drips on the floor and he pulls his fingers out.

“bend over my desk.” he commands as you get up and bend over his desk and he pushes pencils and papers off so you have room. “damn this tight ass… i bet that pussy is tight too huh?” he says almost jokingly.

“sir, dont you have a wife and 2 kids?” you ask innocently…

“mhm but shes a little slut anyway… all she does is cheat and get drunk everyday.. i bet your pussy is so much better.” he rubs your ass. “this is what you get for being a bad student.” he smacks your ass hard, leaving a red handprint and you yelp and he smacks you again. “shut the fuck up. you dont want to get caught do you?” he says pulling tour panties down. “no sir i dont.” you say muffling your voice.

“good.”

he bends down to lick at your pussy juices. “fuck yes, so good.. mmm” he moans against your pussy before coming back up and aiming his cock at your pussy from behind.

“you ready?” he asks before slamming into you. “tom! oh fu-“ he slaps your ass. “what the hell did i say about screaming?”

“s-s-sorry.. it feels so good..” you whimper, trying to suppress your moans.

youre parents call you. “st-stop.. my parents are calling.” he picks up the phone. “listen to how good your daughter feels.” he puts the mic to your mouth as you whimper. he chuckles and hangs up, pounding the fuck out of you. “youre such a bad fucking girl… such a bad slut…” he grabs your hips roughly.

“cum for me sweetheart.” he groans loudly.

“you can do it come on.” he pounds you harder as you squirt and cum all over his cock. “oh fuck yes, im cumming!” he yells out, not even bothering if he gets caught. he pulls out, watching his cum drip out of you.

he pulls his pants up and helps you to do the same.

“fuck that was amazing, baby.” he chuckles

“great now my parents are gonna ground me.” you sigh.

“oh shush you liked it.” he says with his hot accent. “maybe i did.” you shake from the pleasure.

“now you have to do those corrections okay? and wear something less showy.” he points to your cleavage.

#tom kaulitz #angst #fanfic #smut #tokio hotel #drabble #fluff #georg listing #gustav schäfer #2000s #bill kaulitz

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rowretro · 10 months ago

Text

𝒟𝒶𝒹𝒹𝓎 𝐼𝓈𝓈𝓊𝑒𝓈

✧warnings: mentions of abuse, blood, daddy issues ofc but nothing sexual. Mentions of jealousy-ish

♡synopsis: Riki is your sweet boyfriend, the 2 of you have been dating for 3 years now, you've all had your days, but it seems to him you have the shittiest day everyday. Despite having moved in with him, the way you always go back to your parents home, running about doing errands for a man who always hurts you. The first man in every girl's life that should be a challenge to top off by a boyfriend or husband, was Riki's sworn enemy now.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

"Sweetheart where are you off to?" Riki asked, knowing the answer full well. "I got a certificate for my final piece in art Riki... I'm just gonna show my dad-" she said with a smile as Riki sighed he hated it. How you still believe abuse is just a part of life. How you blame it all on the alcohol instead of the man himself.

All that hate doesn't just come from a bottle, he just lets out the shit he buried deep in his heart. Why won't you get that. He knew you won't listen so he just kissed your forehead "Call me if you need help ok? I'll be as lowkey as I could" Riki assured sternly as y/n nodded. She was nervous. Like a certificate is going to change anything. Art is just another useless thing about her useless existence. She wanted to go home for a different reason.

She wanted to clear out her room in that house. She wanted everything of hers to be out of that building. She wanted to be free from their grip. The abuse, the slut shaming, the hurtful words that made her cry waterfalls though she promised herself she'll never cry. Not even her mother can stand up for her, even if she wanted to.

"You think you're going to last with such a rich handsome man?!... He'll realize sooner or later, he's wasting his life on something so useless. You're a clear anomaly in our family, of course he'll leave you one day. Not even we want you... you slutty thing." Her father scoffed, as he watched her ignorantly pack her things.

"Are you even fucking listening you whore?! this is why I love you sister more." The man mumbled as you froze. SHE was the one who actually helped the family at their worst. SHE was the one who patiently put up with their crap. What did her sister do? go to a better school than you and get higher grades despite being a disrespectful spoiled rat that's what.

What's the big deal anyway? she's leaving "Fine you keep trusting that angel of yours while I go lead a successful life and get rich." she said leaving the room, the man pulling her back by her hair. Was she going to give him the reaction? no. She just silently pulled away. She looked and acted unbothered, and fuck the man was pissed off.

"you're home late- babe you ok? clearly not-" Riki helped her in, blinking as he saw a suitcase behind her "what's this about?..." he asked, feeling a little scared. was she going to leave him? "The last of my belongings... I have no reason to go ho- to my parents house." she simply said as she dragged the suitcase upstairs.

Only three weeks had passed since then, Riki wanted to believe y/n felt free and happy, but he caught her crying on multiple occasions like today. But unlike other days, where he let you get a breather, he wanted to be there for her. So he was. Her crying in his arms, wanting nothing more than him.

"So what if your daddy doesn't like you?.... You have me y/n, my love is way bigger than any man's love and you know it." He said as he kissed her forehead. It's true, all this time she's been moping over daddy hating her. When actually she has Nishimura Riki pouring his love for her unconditionally. Why waste her tears on a piece of shit when she has Riki.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

This is shit bro why tf did I think I cld write fluff?....

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honeytonedhottie · 10 months ago

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HONEYS RESOURCE BUNDLE⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💶

a gift from me to you for the new year, to help give tips that can help u succeed 🫶🏽 a post filled with resources, and advice to help u guys improve in every aspect 💗 i love and appreciate u all and i hope u find it helpful.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ physical movement and activity

find something that u like and thats fitted for ur needs. for me, all of the workouts that i do come from youtube. a girlblogger that always has a lot of workouts to try is @4theitgirls-workouts. to motivate urself to move ur body i recommend buying something cute to workout in because it always makes me feel good. i rly like to do pilates, so since i enjoy pilates -> i'll wanna do it more.

so dont be afraid to try different things and see what u enjoy the most and stick with that bcuz u dont wanna be forcing urself to do something that u won't enjoy/that won't give u the results that u want. if working out in general isn't rly ur cup of tea at all, thats totally okay! try going for walks or start running. maybe try out for a sport or start a style of dance. the whole point of this category is to get urself moving bcuz its rly rly good for ur physical and ur mental health, and it'll serve u in the long run. another youtuber i rly recommend for pilates workouts is madeline abeid.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ self improvement youtubers that i love and watch regularly

the wizard liz

simonesquared

sammy ingram

simmonesimmo

hailey gamba

the freezia

persephonesmind

₊˚⊹ ᰔ law of assumption

of course if u wanna learn about and practice the law of assumption then u can learn and apply thru my advice, experiences, ideas and more. neville goddard is like, the guru of manifesting and hes written a bunch of books, here are neville goddard's books online for FREE so that that then u can learn and see it HIS way bcuz the thing with manifesting is u gotta figure out how it works for you cuz its your reality.

if u like subliminals this is my favorite subliminal maker on youtube. their subliminals r amazing and i enjoy them bcuz they dont have music layered onto it (i like subliminals that have soothing sounds like rain or water or anything asmr). last but not least my absolute favorite manifesting coach/teacher on the whole internet, sammy ingram - literally the best manifesting guide. she rly simplifies things and her channel is full of helpful advice, success stories, challenges and her perspective on manifesting is brilliant so i rly recommend her.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ mental health

journalling is honestly the best thing that i have ever done for my mental health, the ROI that i get from it is actually incredible so i highly highly recommend it. if ur someone who doesn't rly like to write a lot, use ur notes app or whatever just get the thoughts out of ur mind and onto a piece of paper/notes. i understand that sometimes when ur mental health isn't doing too well and u dont feel motivated rly to do anything (like u feel lethargic and stuff) forcing urself to do things ISNT always the answer. i rly recommend having alternate routines cuz we ask a lot from ourselves sometimes so some days, ask a little less.

give urself the break that u deserve. when u feel like crying, CRY. even if its for no reason, the body holds onto pent up emotions so when u cry u gotta CRY. with time you'll find the things that help u feel better. for everyone its different. for me, when my mental health is in a slump what helps me is : 1. doing one thing differently (i'll go for a walk maybe) 2. get ready (take a quick shower, or if i dont even have the motivation to do that i'll do a sink shower) 3. drink a cold cup of water and make myself a meal. dont ever have zero days. always give at least 1% or do at least one thing.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ hygiene

hygiene is so instrumental in mental health cuz like i've said before looking good -> feeling good. i make sure to get ready everyday even if im going nowhere. just bcuz the process of getting ready gives me so much momentum. smelling good gives me so much confidence bcuz im the type of person thats rly rly scared of smelling bad. im a hygiene JUNKY so im always buying soaps and fragrances. when u make self care a daily thing it'll feel so natural. dont neglect ur oral health, invest in quality products that are suited for your needs. be meticulous when it comes to ur hygiene cuz a solid routine is lowkey comforting. i rly recommend korean skincare, indian haircare, african body care, and arabic perfumes and fragrances. some of my favorite hygiene based youtube channels are : SARA BEQELE and anna renns world

₊˚⊹ ᰔ school

TAKE. SCHOOL. SERIOUSLY. the feeling that u get when u get a good score on an assignment or test is unmatched. at the end of the day ur responsible for ur education. it's not hot to be a loser. if ur someone who struggles to stay on top of assignments, write down the assignment as soon as its assigned and at the next possible chance do it. as soon as u get home from school. reward urself for good grades and for ur accomplishments cuz ur AMAZING. study effectively instead of excessively.

pursue excellence always. find ways to motivate urself throughout the school day (for me, i always try and incorporate girliness into school cuz that motivates me) all my pens and pencils and folders are pink and i get myself ready everyday before school. cuz when i FEEL good -> i perform well. if u ever dont wanna study remind urself that studying>failing. advocate for urself, dont be afraid to ask questions cuz ur responsible for ur grade if u need accommodations or longer time to take a test (even if u dont) always set urself up to have the most time possible and the most resources. the resources that u have USE THEM. the goal of studying isn't to "mostly" know the material its to know for SURE. when u can explain something thoroughly, thats when you can know if you've studied enough.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ organization + planning

of course for the new year and for life in general, organization is rly helpful. manage urself mindfully and intentionally. even if ur a messy person, organizing isn't difficult if u do it in a way thats right for you. for me, notion - is literally the best organizational tool. i have an agenda, calendars, school pages, and so much more.

with notion i rly organized my life on a whole other level. aside from notion, the notes app on ur phone is rly useful, when it comes to organizing ur day to day life, i think its important bcuz it helps u to maximize ur time. for planning out ur year, if u find it difficult to stay "on task" or achieve the goals that u set for urself, try this : dont see the year as 365 days, instead separate the year into 4 quarters (90 days each) and in each of those quarters choose one aspect to focus on and pour into. make sure to log and track ur progress on those goals. the idea to this is breaking things down. break down big goals -> to more digestible goals so that then its more believable for u. remember, your limitless.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ nutrition

if ur someone who has bad nutrition, or unhealthy eating habits in general and u wanna change that my biggest advice would be to NOT BE EXTREME. bcuz i feel like if u go fully extreme so quickly then the change isn't sustainable. take it slow. start off by introducing a fruit into breakfast and having a vegetable at dinner, then eating fruit with ur breakfast and having fruit as a snack, and eating veggies with lunch and dinner. ik it sounds repetitive and overdone but u need to be consuming ur fruits and veggies. if ur not eating it with ur meals then maybe have it in a smoothie if that works for u. take supplements for things that u dont rly incorporate into ur diet, and the key to a good diet is BALANCE. dont deny urself food that u love. life is WAY to short to be scared to eat the burger that u so desperately want. its okay to eat what ppl might consider "junk food" but everything in BALANCE and moderation. keep the 80/20 principal in ur mind. 80% of what u eat should be good for u and 20% of what u eat should be whatever u crave. DRINK WATER, dont go on extreme diets if ur not an adult and haven't consulted a doctor it does u more harm than good.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ informative

learn every single day. even if ur not in school anymore. a way to help learn and sharpen ur mind every single day is picking up a hobby that can help u do so. for me, the hobby i have is reading, reading keeps my brain sharp, it keeps me entertained, and when i read nonfiction it keeps me informed. so the hobby of reading has a high ROI. whenever u get an idea of any sort, ACT on it. u dont have to wait a billion years before acting on an idea. when u get ideas, its for a reason, ur mind is brilliant and imagine how many ideas that u wasted. thats why i recommend having a creative outlet of some sort. for me, my creative outlet is my blog where i can come and talk with you guys 🫶🏽 but ur creative outlet can be ur notes app or ur journal or ur sketchbook. just a way to get the ideas in ur brain -> onto paper.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ stuff i wish i knew

ur never ever tied down to one version of urself, u can always change ur mind/opinion, u can create a new version of urself whenever the heck u want. remember that u have free will and that ur always in control. bcuz it is your life it revolves around you and it is your responsibility. its not something to mess around with. take responsibility for urself, ur actions, ur reactions etc.

1% of progress is better than 0%, a little is always better than nothing. ur social anxiety or ur fear of being perceived is HOLDING U BACK. forgive urself for ur mistakes, everything that ur embarrassed of in ur past let it go and LET YOURSELF LIVE. become ur own project, ur own muse and if all else fails (which it won't, you'll be fine and everything will work itself out for u even better than u could've ever imagined) love yourself unconditionally.

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jesswritesthat · 4 months ago

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Tsukishima Kei: Dog Damn

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.8k, fluff

• Tsukishima and his canine give a whole new meaning to how dogs take after their owners.

Warnings: Timeskip spoilers, 2 curses

>>>>——————————>

There's that saying of how dogs take after their owners, it was one Tsukishima would always scoff at. Even when he found this yappy puppy alone in the rain for the second day in a row with only a cardboard box labelled 'Please Adopt Me' and reluctantly gave in.

That's how that dumb saying came to light, the fluffy thing growled and yapped at his older brother when he became annoying. When his Karasuno teammates heard about the adoption they wanted to meet the fellow, only for him to be particularly vocal around Hinata and Kageyama. Yamaguchi was probably one of the few the pup actually liked.

This enigma continued through to the Sendai Frogs, now bigger and older, his faithful companion reflected his feelings to individuals. Much like Tsukishima, the Shikoku grew to like individuals with time much like his owner, but there's always a fun exception.

It came with a bark, one that was louder that most Keis' dog would express during their evening walk, and to his surprise it was directed toward you.

You who was merely writing the signage for the day outside of your coffee shop. Still, you didn't seem startled, while crouch you attempted to beckon the offender over but he merely growled in reply. His master seemed to laugh however, pulling down his headphones with a smirk.

"Nice try, it won't work though."

"Is that a challenge?" You stood to meet the smug smirking blonde, the dog a little more settled as his master conversed.

"He's stubborn."

"Ah a hunting breed. What's his name?" Came your observation, tilting your head at the canine which only snorted in reply.

"Rekkusu."

You paused for a moment, no doubt the man in question had intended for the delivery to be cool, but the ongoing silence made him shift uncomfortably with brows furrowing.

"As in Tyrannosaurus Rex?" You'd expectantly noted, crossing your arms with a bemused expression.

"Yeah, and what about it?" Tsukishima shot back, a mild glare in place but you only dismissed his attitude with a smile.

"It's cool, suits the little guy."

"Little guy? I suppose your lack of perception means your customers get better value for money."

"Why do you think we're so popular? See you around Rekkusu-chan and owner!" With a smirk you waved politely, before entering the coffee shop.

The notice of ‘All Dogs Welcome’ sign framed prominently in the window.

———

Now that you'd spoken, you noticed him nearly everyday, he followed the same route in the mornings and evenings with Rekkusu in tow. This morning you awaited his passing, racing out to stop him in his tracks with a greeting bark from the dog which left you glaring.

"Back for more?"

"I come baring gifts this time." Came your proud tone, placing a Puppuccino before the dog who arrogantly waited for you step back at least 4 paces prior to sniffing it much to the owners’ amusement.

"Wow, he really doesn't like you."

"Yet. He doesn't like me yet." You replied with renewed determination.

“I’m Tsukishima Kei, and I should probably know the name of the person trying so hard to win over my dog…”

“(L/n) (Y/n). Have a nice walk guys.” A soft smile graced your lips upon noticing Rekkusu eating the treat, a small victory you’d claim (though you hoped the blonde hadn’t noticed your fist pump when walking inside).

It was only when you returned from your break that afternoon did your happy mood get disgruntled, by yen sitting on the counter no less.

"Tips? What kind of arrog—"

"No not a tip! Some smug tall guy said it was payment." Yui quickly rushed to calm you with hands defensively waving in panic.

Only a brief second passed, looking to Yui with a deadpan gaze.

"Blonde?"

She nodded.

"Big dog?"

"Uh-huh." Yui curiously responded.

"Glasses?"

A hum of agreement.

"Dickhead."

"Yes! That's him!"

"No I mean, he's not a dickhead. He just didn't have to pay, I'm trying to win over his dog..."

"(L/n)-san, what?" Her previous excitement dwindled, her cause for concern now persisting.

"Nothing, nothing. Guess he's a kind person, but that doesn't mean the challenge ends here."

———

Much to Tsukishimas’ disinterest, it didn’t end. Despite the man only nodding in acknowledgement and diverting his gaze, you made a point to wave whenever you saw him. If you had the time you’d also come to greet Rekkusu who remained as hostile as ever - though you only need take two steps back for him to devour his treats now.

You even caught Tsukishima on one of his training runs, when he’d stopped to check his statistics you’d handed him a bottle of water without a word, just a knowing smile.

Then came a time you were actually on a break during one of your evening shifts, you were outside with a hot drink enjoying the autumn breeze when he’d awkwardly stood at your table. Rekkusu alerted you to their presence instantly, a solid bark in play but his masters’ demeanour was what perplexed you most.

“Would you mind if I joined you? I was going to get a coffee anyway…”

“Sure Tsukishima, do you want me to watch Rekkusu whilst you grab one?” Even if your request was a whimsical one, you were both offended and amused by the growl you received.

“He’s still y’know, stubborn.”

Nevertheless, the blonde rejoined your table with a coffee and pastry in hand - one he slid over to you.

“Uh, your colleagues said you liked this one. Dunno how you work with them though, they sure squeal a lot.”

“Huh they do? Well either way, I can’t accept this bu—“

“You told them not to let me pay for his treats anymore, but I owe you for them. You don’t have the option to refuse right now.” Kei had said it so bluntly that you couldn’t even argue, meekly accepting with another thanks.

You’d actually conversed with him then. You’d found out he was on the Sendai Frogs volleyball team and worked at the museum in the city. In exchange he’d learned about you and your coffee shop, and of course that he’d adopted Rekkusu during his third year of high school at Karasuno. By the end of your break, you felt closer in a way.

Rekkusu didn’t bark at you when they left.

———

From then it seemed whenever you’d seen the pair, Rekkusus’ barks seemed friendlier and his tail wagged upon seeing you. Occasionally he’d pull Tsukishima toward you as you knelt to offer a signature Puppiccino.

“I hate this.”

“I have successfully used the power of Pavlov~”

“It’s called bribery.” Tsuki mockingly interjected.

“Either way, I’m still winning this challenge.”

“Your self-issued challenge. This has nothing to do with me.”

“Luckily your approval doesn’t matter to me, only Rekkusus, isn’t that right boy?” Came your melodious tone, the canine barking excitedly.

“Traitor.” It was muttered begrudgingly, but you continued conversation regardless.

“Good luck with your new exhibition today, if you can please take a picture of it and show me!”

“Instead of making me come back here, would I be able to send it to you by phone?”

“My contact details?” The surprise was obvious, but Kei remained blunt and composed with his usual bit of sarcasm.

“Ideally yeah. Here’s mine.”

Yet, you’d spoken often enough to know about his workplace and vice versa, so you suppose this was the natural next step in friendship.

———

Tsukishima wouldn’t normally bring anyone along to your café but he’d reached a crossroads, a block that he couldn’t surpass without an old teammate it seemed.

“So… why are we here?”

“Because it allows dogs.” Tsukishima breathed, way too nonchalant for even him, which only left Yamaguchi asking further questions.

“Yes, but we’ve always gone for walks.”

“I just need you to see something…” The blonde seethed, holding the door open for his partner to enter.

“Ah hey Tsukishima, Rekkusu~” A gentle pat was given to the fluffy boy with a wagging tail, and only then did he happily whine at you.

“Hi (L/n), this is Yamaguchi. A friend from elementary school.”

The freckled man only waved at you with a bright smile, Tsukishima gave their order and the trio went to be seated.

“Nice to meet a friend of Tsuki.”

“…Tsuki?”

“So?”

“Rekkusu!” Tsukishima waited expectantly for Yamaguchi to finish. “They pet him… And he didn’t mind!”

“I know.”

“That’s really weird, have you known them long?” The shy man consisted carefully, Tsuki flicking from Rekkusu to answer honestly.

“A month or more, I see them nearly everyday in passing but we’ve only spoken properly a few times.”

“Ah… Tsuki do you li—“

“No.”

“Right.” Yamaguchi radiated disbelief, to the point Kei doubted his own denial, but his friend only looked to the pleased dog as if he portrayed Tsukishimas’ feelings better than the namesake.

“I have (L/n)s’ contact, maybe it’d be worth bringing them to the museum at some point?”

“Maybe, would a walk with Rekkusu be too committing?”

“Shut up!”

———

Now you’d never have considered the museum to be as daunting but when Tsukishima asked you to meet him here you accepted, currently queuing up for tickets.

“What are you doing (L/n)?”

“Uh- tickets? To get in?”

“Idiot, I work here and you’re my—“ He paused, fingers to the bridge of his nose. “You’re my guest, you can come in with me.”

With a flick of his ID, the two of you were allowed entry, you spent a majority of the day at the museum - Tsukishima particularly enthused when you’d reached the dinosaur exhibits and seemed to be an expert. Must be his specialty.

Another day you’d grabbed takeout coffee from your café and walked Rekkusu through the nearby park.

“Y’know, even though he’s quite standoffish, he’s a really good dog.”

“Yeah, I thought he’d mellow as he aged but he defied my expectations.” Kei admiringly answered, the two of you watching him catch his frisbee midair.

“Hm, Yamaguchi met him as a puppy right? And he’s known you for a while, is that why he calls you Tsuki?”

“Only he’s allowed to call me that.”

“I figured, you might as well call me (Y/n), that’s what my friends tend to do.” Even if you shrugged casually, you still noted the brief flush of colour tinting the blondes ears.

“You can call me Kei then. Fairs fair.”

“Kei huh? I’m honoured.”

“Shut up (Y/n).”

———

Now with these frequent outings to here, there, and everywhere, it came as no surprise when it turned into dating somewhere along the line. Once more, your coworkers squealed at the news - now you knew what Kei was talking about…

Nonetheless, even though it had taken quite a lot of time, Rekkusu had warmed to you as well. This time when Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were out walking his dog, the two weren’t shocked when Rekkusu barked and bounded up to your approaching figure. Basically tackling you the grassy ground as you went to greet him in return.

“He really loves (Y/n), doesn’t he?” Kei has spoken absentmindedly whilst overlooking the scene, a soft smile upon his features.

Yamaguchi stared also, flicking from you and Rekkusu to his best friend in quiet understanding.

“Well, they say Tsuki…” A knowing smile. “That dogs take after their owners.”

“I guess, this one time, they’re right.”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

#tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu #anime x reader #anime imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fluff #tsukishima fluff

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scarletwinterxx · 5 months ago

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his day - mark lee dad imagine

hellooo. here's the mark dad father's day scenario🥺 i thought about writing one before father's day but i didn't have the time then some of you requested it so i wrote it during my free time. It took a while since I was busy but it's here. I hope you like it🤍

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

part11: your day

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Having a new born baby is a new challenge every time. It doesn't really matter if you already went through this twice. The fact that you have 2 older kids to get ready for school and a new born that wakes up every hour makes it 10 times more difficult.

But of course things are made better when you have your husband with you. The two of you already have the routine down to the T, usually you take the night shift since you have to feed baby Minsu while Mark takes the morning shift to get the kids ready and drive them to school.

Mark took some time off work to be with his family. He knew it would be difficult to leave you at home with the kids, and even though his parents offered to help he politely declined them with the assurance that he can handle it.

And he did. The kids are out the door and on their way to school just in time then Minsu to wake up to feed again, usually you'd do that before going downstairs to eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

The two older kids also adjusted pretty well with the birth of their new sibling, Minjee was so excited to meet him and was fascinated to see the little human. Minjung was also so happy to meet his little brother, promising to teach him everything when he gets older.

Watching your three kids together washes all of the tiredness away. The fear and anxiety you felt when delivering your youngest all goes at the back of your mind once you see Minjung hold little Minsu in his arms. Your first baby holding your youngest.

Minjee of course couldn't wait for her turn to hold the baby, you were more worried about her adjusting but she welcomed her younger sibling just as easy. She even promised she would share her cakepops with her baby brother.

All the long nights, sleepless weeks to months and the anxiety if you're doing the right thing everyday is worth it. For them, you'd do it over and over again without a doubt.

It's not always happy days of course. Some nights are more rough than others, recently Minsu hasn't been sleeping. Doctor said he might have colic, they did say it'll go away eventually and there's really not much you can do so you try to comfort him best way you can.

Mark has that mastered. Once Minsu fusses, he's already on his feet shushing his little boy back to sleep. Singing him the softest most random lullabies. Sometimes you find him just walking around the house with Minsu in his arms, telling him the most random stories

That is exactly how you found the two of them in the living room, you don't know how long Mark has been walking in circles in your living room. You can hear him telling Minsu about the many times he and Haechan got in an agreement. Laughing quietly when you hear the familiar story of that time Haechan ran over the mailbox while driving Mark's car.

Your laugh made Mark look up from the baby in his arms and over to you, a similar fond look on his face

"What a peculiar story to tell a baby"

"It puts him to sleep" Mark tells you

"I bet, imagine your dad rambling to you for hours" you joke, watching him walk in circles around the living room

"Why don't I take him, I already showered and ate breakfast"

"Its fine, love"

"Mark honey, I love you really but right now you need a shower. You're covered in baby vomit" you point at the huge stain on his shirt, you stand up from your seat to get Minsu from him

"I got this, you go get ready" you kiss him on the cheek, playfully pushing him towards the stairs

You take this time to get the surprise ready. It's father's day today and even though you agreed not to do anything grand since you just gave birth a month ago, you still wanted to do something for him.

When you're sure Minsu is asleep. You put him down on the baby rocker you have in the living room while you get the cake and flowers you secretly ordered.

It's still quiet in your bedroom upstairs so you assume Mark is still in the shower. You get your present for Mark and set it on the table also then you wait.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps down the stairs then Mark emerges with a towel in hand. "Hey can you dry wait woah what's this" he asks, a big smile forming on his face

"Happy Father's Day, my love"

"This is woah when did you do this, are these for me?" He takes the flowers to take a closer look

"Yep, I saw somewhere say men only receive flowers on their funeral and that made me so sad then i thought i never gave you flowers then i got sadder so i got you some"

He smiles at you, putting the flowers down so he could give you a big hug

"You're so cute, it's okay though. You gave me everything and more than I could ever ask for, just look at that" he juts his chin over Minsu who's still sleeping "How can I ever ask for more when I have all"

"You're cheesy"

"You love me"

"That I do. This life we have, I hope this isn't the only one. If there's a life after this, let's meet again okay?"

He looks right at you, listening to your words like he's hearing your wedding vows again. Then he leans down to capture your lips in his, like every kiss with you is the first.

"I'll love you in this one, and in all the other lives I'll live. I'm so so happy, there's really nothing else in this world I'd want more"

You kiss him again, smiling against his lips and hugging him tighter. The two of you only broke apart when you hear your baby cry

"Oh that's the hungry cry, you got it?" Mark says as he picks up Minsu and pass him over to you.

"Minjung gave me a little spiderman lego thing, I'll show it to you I forgot. Then he hugged me and said thank you for being a cool dad even though I don't know how to cook"

You let out a chuckle, imagining your boy saying it to his dad. "That's why I'm teaching him so one day his own kid can say he's a great cook" you joke

"Hey!"

"What about Jee?"

"She made me a card, I swear she used all the glitter she had. I love it, I really do. I also think I would never get rid of the glitter in my office so we might need to move"

While he's talking, you can see the fond look on his face as he talks about his children. You know how much Mark loves you, there isn't a day in your entire relationship that he forgot to tell you that.

But you know deep in you there's no one on this Earth he loves more than his kids, he'd do anything and everything for them.

And you love him so much for that.

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ruhua-langblr · 9 days ago

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Language Apps Suck, Now What?: A Guide to Actually Becoming "Fluent"

The much requested sequel to my DL post that was promised almost a year ago.

I'm going to address all of the techniques that have helped me in my language learning journeys. Since 95% of these came from the fact that in a past language learning mistake, they are titled as my mistakes (and how I would/did things differently going forward). For those that read to the bottom there is a "best universal resources" list.

Disclaimers:

"Fluency" is hard to define and everyone has their own goals. So for the purpose of this post, "fluency" will be defined as "your personal mastery target of the language".

If you just want to pick up a bit of a language to not sound like a total foreigner on vacation or just exchange a few words in a friend's native language, feel free to ignore what doesn't apply, but maybe something here could help make it a little easier.

This is based on my own personal experience and (some) research.

Mistake 1: Asymmetrical Studying

Assuming you don't just want to do a single activity in a language, or are learning a language like ASL, a language requires 4 parts to be studied: Speaking, Listening, Writing, Reading. While these have overlap, you can't learn speaking from reading, or even learn speaking from just listening. One of my first Chinese teachers told me how he would listen to the textbook dialogues while he was biking to classes and it helped him. I took this information, thought "Yeah that's an idea, but sounds boring" and now regret not taking his advice nearly every day.

I think a lot of us find methods we enjoy to study (mine was reading) and assume that if we just do that method more ™ it will eventually help us in other areas (sometimes it does, but that's only sometimes). Find a method that works for you for each area of study, even better find more than one method since we use these skills in a variety of manners! I can understand a TV program pretty well since I have a lot of context clues and body language to fill in any gaps of understanding, but taking a phone call is much harder—the audio is rougher, there's no body language to read, and since most Chinese programs have hard coded subtitles, no subtitles to fall back on either. If I were to compare the number of hours I spent reading in Chinese to (actively) training my listening? Probably a ratio of 100 to 1. When I started to learn Korean, the first thing I did was find a variety of listening resources for my level.

Fix: Find a variety of study methods that challenge all aspects of the language in different ways.

A variety of methods will help you develop a more well-rounded level of mastery, and probably help you keep from getting bored. Which is important because...

Mistake 2: Inconsistent Studying

If there is one positive to a language app, it is the pressure it puts on keeping a streak. Making studying a part of your everyday routine is the best thing you can do. I benefited a lot from taking a college language course since I had a dedicated time to study and practice Chinese 5 days out of the week (and homework usually filled the other two). Memorization is a huge part of language learning, and stopping and starting is terrible for memorization. When I was in elementary school, we had Spanish maybe a couple times a month. Looking back, it seems like it was the first class to be cut if we needed to catch up on a more important course. Needless to say, I can't even speak Spanish at an elementary level.

However, I'm sure many people reading this don't have the time to do ultra-immersion 4-hour study sessions every day either. Find what days during the week you have time to focus on learning new vocab and grammar, and use the rest of the week to review. This can be done on your commute to school/work, while you do the dishes, or as a part of your morning/evening routine. Making this as realistic as possible will help you actually succeed in making this a habit. (Check this out for how to set realistic study goals)

Fix: Study regularly (ideally daily) by setting realistic goals. Avoid "binge" studying since remembering requires consistent repetition to be most effective.

Mistake 3: Resource Choice

This is really composed of two mistakes, but I have a good example that will cover them both.

First, finding resources that are at or slightly above your level is the most important thing. Easy resources will not challenge you enough and difficult resources will overwhelm you. The ideal is n+1, with n as what you know plus 1 new thing.

Second, getting distracted by fancy, new technology. Newer isn't always better, and there are often advantages that are lost when we've made technological developments. I often found myself wanting to try out new browser extensions or organizational methods and honestly I would've benefitted from just using that time to study. (Also, you're probably reading this because of my DL post so I don't think it has to be said that AI resources suck.)

A good example of this was my time using Clozemaster. I had actually recommended it when I first started using it since I thought the foundation was really solid. However, after long term use, I found that it just wasn't a good fit. The sentences were often too simple or too long and strange for memorization at higher levels or were too difficult at lower levels. I think that taking my textbook's example sentences from dialogues into something like Anki would've been a far better use of my time (and money) as they were already designed to be at that n+1 level.

Fix: "Vet" your resources—make sure they will actually help you. If something is working for you, then keep using it! You don't always have to upgrade to the newest tool/method.

Mistake 3.5: Classrooms and Textbooks

A .5 since it's not my mistake, but an addendum of caution. I think there is a significant part of the language learning community that views textbooks and classroom learning as the worst possible resource. They are "boring", "outdated", and "ineffective" (ironically one of the most interesting modern language learning methods, ALG, is only done in a classroom setting). Classrooms and textbooks bring back memories of being surrounded by mostly uninterested classmates, minimal priority, and a focus on grades rather than personal achievement (imagine the difference between a class of middle schoolers who were forced to choose a foreign language vs. adult learners who self-selected!) People have used these exact methods, or even "cruder" methods, to successfully learn a language. It all comes down to what works best for you. I specifically recommend textbooks for learning grammar and the plentiful number of dialogues and written passages that can function great as graded readers and listening resources. (Also the distinction made between "a youtube lesson on a grammatical principle" which is totally cool, and "a passage in a grammar textbook" is more one of tone and audio/written than efficacy).

Classrooms can be really great for speaking practice since they can be a lot less intimidating speaking to someone who is also learning while receiving corrections. Speech can be awkward to train on your own (not impossible if you're good at just talking aloud to yourself!), and classrooms can work nicely for this. Homework and class schedules also have built in accountability!

Fix: Explore resources available to you and try to think holistically about your approach. CI+Traditional Methods is my go to "Learning Cocktail"

Mistake 4: Yes, Immersion, But...

I realized this relatively quickly while learning Chinese, but immersion at a level much higher than your current level will do very little for you. What is sometimes left out of those "Just watch anime to learn Japanese" discussions is that you first need to have a chance at understanding what is being said. Choosing materials that are much higher than your level will not teach you the language. It doesn't matter how many times someone at HSK 1 hears “他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还”, they will not get very far. Actual deduction and learning comes from having enough familiar components to be able to make deductions—something different than guessing. An HSK 1 learner, never having heard the word 老虎 will be able to understand "tiger" if someone says “这是我的老虎” while standing next to a tiger. This is not to say you can never try something more difficult—things should be challenging—but if you can't make heads or tails of what's being said, then it's time to find something a bit easier. If mistake 2 is about the type of method, this is about the level. If you wouldn't give a kindergartener The Great Gatsby to learn how to read, why would you watch Full Metal Alchemist to start learning a language?

Side note: Interesting video here on the Comprehensible Input hypothesis and how it relates to neurodivergence.

Fix: Immerse yourself in appropriate content for your level. It's called comprehensible input for a reason.

Mistake 5: On Translation

I work as a translator, so do you really think I'm going to say translation is all bad? Of course not. It's a separate skill that can be added on to the basic skills, but is really only required if you are A. someone who is an intermediary between two languages (say you have to translate for a spouse or family member) or B. It is your job/hobby. In the context of sitting down and learning, it can be harmful. I think my brain often goes to translation too often because that's how I used to learn. Trying to unlearn that is difficult because, well, what do people even mean when they say "don't translate"? They mean when someone says "thank you", you should not go to your primary language and translate "you're welcome" from that. You should train yourself to go to your target language first when you hear the word for "thank you". A very literally translated "thank you" in Chinese "谢谢你" can come off as cold and sarcastic. I don't tell my friends that, I say "谢啦～". Direct translation can take away the difference in culture, grammar, and politeness in a language. If there is a reason you sound awkward while writing and speaking, it's probably because you're imposing your primary language on your target language.

Fix: Try as hard as you can to not work from your primary language into the target language, but to work from the structures, set phrases, and grammar within the target language that you know first.

Mistake 6: The Secret Language Learners Don't Want You To Know...

...is that there is no one easy method. You are not going to learn French while you sleep, or master Korean by doing this one easy trick. Learning a language requires work and dedication, the people that succeed are those that push through the boredom of repetition and failure. The "I learned X in 1 year/month/week/day!" crowd is hiding large asterisks, be it their actual level, the assistance and free time available to them, "well actually I had already studied this for 4 years", or just straight-up lying. Our own journeys in our native tongue were not easy, they required years and years of constant immersion and instruction. While we are now older and wiser people that can make quick connections, we are also burdened with things like "jobs", "house work", "school work", and the digital black hole that is "social media" that take up our time and energy. Everything above is to help make this journey a little bit easier, quicker, and painless, but it will never be magic.

I find that language learning has a lot in common with the fitness community. People will talk about the workout that changed their life and how no other one will do the same—and it really can be the truth that it changed their life and that they feel it is the ultimate way. The real workout that will change your life is the one you're most consistent with, that you enjoy the most. Language learning is just trying to find the brain exercise that you can be the most consistent with.

Fix: Save your energy looking for shortcuts, and do the work, fail, and come back for more. If someone tells you that you can become fluent in a ridiculously short amount of time, they are selling you a fantasy (and likely a product). You get out what you put in.

For those that made it to the end, here are some of my "universal resources":

Refold Method: I don't agree with their actual method 100%, but they've collected a lot of great resources for learning languages. I've found their Chinese and Korean discords to also be really helpful and provided even more resources than what's given in their starter guides.

Language Reactor: Very useful, and have recently added podcasts as a material! The free version is honestly all you need.

Anki: If I do not mention it, the people with 4+ year streaks with a 5K word deck will not let me forget it. It can be used on desktop or on your phone as an app. If you need a replacement for a language learning app, this is one of them. Justin Sung has a lot of great info on how to best utilize Anki (as does Refold). It's not my favorite, but it could be yours!

LingQ: "But I thought you said language apps are bad!" In isolation, yes. Sorry for the clickbait. This one is pretty good, and more interested in immersing you in the language than selling a subscription to allow you to freeze your streak so the number goes up.

Grammar Textbooks: For self-taught learning, these are going to be the best resource since it's focused on the hardest part of the language, and only that. If you're tired of seeing group work activities, look for a textbook that is just on grammar (Modern Mandarin Chinese Grammar is my rec for Chinese, and A Guide to Japanese Grammar by Tae Kim is the most common/enthusiastic rec I've heard for Japanese).

Shadowing: Simply repeat what you hear. Matt vs Japan talks about his setup here for optimized shadowing (which you can probably build for a lot cheaper now), but it can also just be you watching a video and pausing to repeat after each sentence or near simultaneously if you're able.

Youtube: Be it "Short Story for Beginners", "How to use X", "250 Essential Phrases", or a GRWM in your target language, Youtube is the best. Sometimes you have to dig to find what works for you, but I imagine there is something for everyone at every level. (Pro tip: People upload textbook audio dialogues often, you don't even have to buy the textbook to be able to learn from it!)

A Friend: Be it a fellow learner, or someone who has already mastered the language, it is easier when you have someone, not only to speak to, but to remind you why you're doing this. I write far more in Chinese because I have friends I can text in Chinese.

Pen and Paper: Study after study, writing on paper continues to be the best method for memorization. Typing or using a pen and tablet still can't compare to traditional methods.

The Replies (Probably): Lots of people were happy to give alternatives for specific languages in the replies of my DL post. The community here is pretty active, so if this post blows up at least 20% of what the last one did, you might be able to find some great stuff in the replies and reblogs.

I wish you all the best~

#langblr #mandarinblr #language learning #resource #dare i put this in the duolingo tag lmao

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