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#float out of yourself kind of experience
variousqueerthings · 2 years
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every time I see the “margaret goes to check if hawkeye is sick” gifset being reblogged on my dash, my first instinct is “oh she’s going to choke him 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀”
I think..... 
that might be interesting
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bowithoutadaemon · 2 years
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It's 3:45am. In less than 5 hours my law seminar is starting...
And I can't sleep.
Just checked and apparently you can join the seminar online. So I'm probably gonna do that. Gives me an hour of extra sleep. Or alternatively means I can go to sleep right afterwards.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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no sweeter innocence (than our gentle sin)
in which spencer reid is gentle with overwhelmed fem!reader after sex
18+ (fluff, implied intimacy) warnings/tags: it's just aftercare, but like psychological aftercare, implied intimacy duh, vague descriptions of sex but nothing explicit, hurt/comfort without the hurt, allusions to postcoital dysphoria, reader cries but its not really sad, spencer reid is so kind i wish men were real, i think that is all a/n: guess who wrote an entirely different thing instead of touching her wips..... AGAIN...... this bitch cant do anything omggg!! but this was based on a request so go me also what a strange time to be posting but it's only 1k words and nobody can stop me
“Hey. Are you with me, angel?”
You blink your eyes open in the dark room—reorienting yourself to the tangle of your bodies. How many minutes has it been?
“Hm?”
He chuckles—a quick huff from his nose as he brings a hand up to push hair from your face. 
“I asked you if you’re with me.”
It takes you a moment to answer. You’re still trying to make sense of where you are in space, each sensation coming back to you one by one—the weight and pressure of him against you, the slip of cotton sheets and a cool breeze from the cracked window over your heated sticky skin. 
“Oh.”
It’s not much of an answer and your voice is small. For a moment he lets it sit, cupping your warm cheek. Your eyes flutter shut again. His voice comes gentler, dipped in concern. 
“You okay?”
This time you don’t try to speak. Your tongue is like a lead weight in your mouth and your brain is running on dial-up. The best you can do is to cling to him, hiding your face in the curve of his neck and hoping he’ll understand that your firm hold on him is a request for him to tighten his own arms around you, until you’re sure you won’t float away. He reciprocates and it makes you feel more secure immediately. 
“Can you answer me?” He murmurs, all sweet solicitation, lips brushing the top of your head in this new airtight position. And then, a moment later— “Baby. I wanna hear your voice.”
“Mhm,” you manage. 
Spencer rewards you by rubbing your back in slow circles. His hand feels nice on your bare skin. The way you love him is too big for words. It could make you cry. 
“Wasn’t too much? You’re not hurting anywhere?”
You shake your head and try to ignore the ache in your bones when you can’t seem to get him close enough. 
“Mm-mm.”
It’s not entirely true—your legs are sore, but it’s nothing that needs tending to, and your lower back is a bit crampy, but he’s already working on that. 
He hums. “You’re pretty out of it, sweet girl. What’s going on with you?”
Spencer is always careful with you. He’d never hurt you, or sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure. That said, he’s just as passionate as you are. The stretch of your arms above your head is still fresh in your mind—the ghost of his grip, pressing your wrists into the mattress, or pushing your leg up, or pulling you exactly where he wanted you by the hips. It’s all wonderful, and you never feel safer than you do when you’re with him, but it doesn’t make you feel any less vulnerable, any less raw, after all is said and done. Maybe it’s precisely because you trust him so much that you’re so sensitive afterward. But he never, ever makes you feel bad for having an intense reaction to an intense experience. He always meets you where you’re at. That in itself makes you emotional. Spencer is different than any of the partners you’d had before. 
Again, he’s patient as you try to process his question and work up a response. Maybe a minute later, you’re breathing out something that feels true. 
“Overwhelmed.”
The word is a tap against glass you didn’t know was there until it’s fracturing like a spiderweb. With no warning, and for no good reason, you find yourself choked up. 
“Oh,” he says, sympathetic and drawn out as understanding sets in. “Do you need me to back off for a minute?”
You squeeze him even fiercer and shake your head, unable to stop the tears from drawing their shiny paths down your cheeks and sinking into the weave of the pillow case. 
“Shh. You’re okay,” he murmurs, quiet and slow and almost sing-songy as he smooths your hair, though you know he doesn’t really expect you to stop crying. “You’re okay, pretty. Remember what I said about all the hormonal shifts in your body after you come?”
Once more you nod against him with a small, shuddering sniffle. 
“And how sometimes your body regulates by crying? Kind of like a… a reset button?”
“Mhm.”
“Mhm.” He shifts from rubbing your back to tracing light lines in shapeless patterns with the blunt edges of his nails, and your breath catches before you’re melting in his hold. “It’s okay to have big or confusing feelings after sex. It’s actually really common. I just want you to be honest with me about those feelings, right? So we can keep you safe?”
“Right.”
“Would you tell me if you were hurting, or if something I did or said was bothering you?”
“Yes.”
If you were looking at him you know he’d be smiling ever so slightly at your monosyllabic responses, charting an upward path with his hand and pushing it through your hair at the nape of your neck. “You can just nod, baby. You don’t have to talk. I know you’re tired.”
You make a small noise of gratitude and nuzzle closer, feeling better as the tears slow, quickly as they’d come. 
“Do you want a bath in a little while?”
Another nod. He scratches at your scalp. “Okay. We’ll do a bath, and then dinner, and then I’m finally going to make you watch that documentary about Helvetica. It’s a little outdated, and there are a few basic errors about the origin and development of the font as well as misinformation about the typeface subgroup in general, but I can amend those as we watch and afterward we can read the director’s tenth anniversary statement. I was waiting to read it until we watched it together.”
Spencer knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in, curled up on the couch under a blanket in your biggest hoodie with your head on his lap and his hand in your hair, just like this. 
He’s actually really looking forward to it.
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falling-endlessly · 8 months
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The Finer Things in Death
Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader
Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.
Oh dear, where's your smile?
You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.
In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).
At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?
Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.
Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.
Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.
All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?
Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.
Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.
Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.
Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.
Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.
There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.
It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.
And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?
Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.
You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.
But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.
Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.
"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.
But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.
Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.
You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.
It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.
Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.
And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?
Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.
And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.
Until one day, when everything went to shit.
****
It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.
You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 
Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.
You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.
Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.
The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.
You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.
It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."
You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."
"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.
"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.
His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"
You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.
"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.
Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.
A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.
"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."
You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.
"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.
"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.
You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.
A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.
Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.
And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.
Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.
You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"
"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"
Splat.
You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.
"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"
Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.
When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.
You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"
You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.
The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.
Your soulmate.
What the FUCK.
"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."
There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"
"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"
As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.
****
You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.
Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—
"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.
You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.
"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  
You blinked. What the fuck?
"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.
"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."
You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.
He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.
As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."
Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.
But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."
"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.
There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.
"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.
"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.
"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.
"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."
"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"
"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"
He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchanté, ma chère."
You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"
He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."
"What? No, I—"
"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.
You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.
You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 
"I'm so fucked."
****
Enchanté, ma chère : Charmed, my dear
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starsofang · 4 months
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thinking about johnny being completely smitten with an extremely reserved reader <3
johnny was head over heels from the very beginning. he couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but maybe it was when you first joined the force. at the initial greeting, he’d struck you with one of his bright smiles, only for a blank canvas to stare in return.
you hadn’t said a word, not a peep, and while others would be turned off by such reclusiveness, he was in awe.
an enigma, you were, and johnny was someone who loved a good puzzle.
you were cold and distant, but not in the way that was cruel and unnerving. you didn’t throw out snarky comments, you didn’t show a single bit of rudeness when somebody’s ticked you off. you weren’t hard headed, nor did you pitch a fight. you were a calm sea with peaceful waves lapping at the shore. a light rain on a dry day, one where in ancient times would’ve been a blessing from the gods. as cold as snow, but the kind that layered the ground in a fresh sheet of white right after a blizzard, painting the earth with powdered beauty.
if anything, you weren’t cold at all. you were just so incredibly awkward that johnny couldn’t help but be smitten by it.
you were that type of awkward where social cues were nearly impossible for you to comprehend. jokes didn’t land quite right whenever somebody made them, and you’d give a blank look to whomever fell victim, added on with a dumb “what?” because you didn’t understand it.
johnny’s been an unfortunate victim on many occasions. he’s always the type to nudge you on the shoulder with a crooked grin as he spilled out whatever joke ghost had told him over comms, only to be met with your complete and utter confusion.
that never stopped him, though. if anything, it made him much more determined to search up more jokes on the screen of a burner phone, reading through every single one and noting them in the back of his mind.
you were also as stone-faced as could be. some theorized you were a robot, others thought you were a demon in disguse. an experiment, placed into 141 as a trial run.
really, expressing yourself just wasn’t your thing.
you felt emotions, sure. plenty of them. you could find the humor in the occasional bar night with the force, amused at the linger of carefree conversation that carried between the men. you just didn’t show it.
it wasn’t something you realized until johnny had made the point of asking you if you ever smiled. thinking back on it, you recalled never directly doing so. you’d do it in your head, but when it came down to it, no, no you didn’t.
johnny was determined when keeping a goal in mind, and found himself ruthlessly running towards that goal of seeing you smile. he was enamored in the thought of seeing the slant of your lips when they curved upwards, in seeing your eyes crinkle and glimmer with delight, and he’d go through every single joke website in order to make it happen.
it took him an approximate year of you being in the force to get it to work.
it was lame, really. hardly one of his best jokes, he’d drunkenly slurred out, “what rank are all cats in the army? corpurrral,” with a tongue roll effect to go with it.
you had burst into laughter, filling the bar air with ringing church bells that he swore made the drunken state of his mind believe he was truly on his way to heaven. the gates had opened, inviting him in. he was levitating, slowly floating his way to the clouds.
your smile was like a breath of air — refreshing. it filled his lungs with such purity that all the cigarettes he’d smoked over the years of being in the force seemingly melted the thick layer of tar away, leaving him clean and refurbished.
it was like a drug, and johnny found himself seeking more out to get another taste, even if it took him another year to do so.
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this is lowkey self insert bc this is my personality offline and i think other people who are so painfully awkward with socializing are cute and deserve love. wrote this with no sleep and a dream, silly ramble before i go to bed
i also just really love johnny, goodnight
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onelittlespiral · 6 months
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FML: Urged
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I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?
So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.
As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”
I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.
As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.
“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”
I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.
I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.
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Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.
No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent years perfecting my splits. After about two months, I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.
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I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.
He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.
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“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.
“Ye-yes, sir.”
I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.
I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.
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Are There Still Beautiful Things? | Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello! This is a part two! I finally got around to writing a sequel to The Ultimatum! So do me a favor and read that one first. Thanks!
Word count: 16.7k
Trigger warnings: emotional abuse, manipulative boyfriend, anxiety / depression
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The following morning, Bucky floated through the apartment with silent steps. He moved with the utmost caution, sidestepping the creaky floorboard in the hall. Closing the kitchen cabinets as gently as possible. Anything to avoid waking you. After the night you’d had- the fight, the long walk in freezing rain, the tears, the panic attacks- you needed all the sleep you could get. Knowing you, he figured you’d rise around ten. You always said that anything later was a waste of the day. 
But morning came and went without an appearance from you. He listened at his bedroom door for any sign of life and found only silence. He leaned against the kitchen counter, eating the omelet he’d intended for you. It wasn’t going to be good cold, anyway. 
He wondered what your year under Alex’s thumb had been like. Suffocating, he decided. Claustrophobic. Were you ever happy? In the last year, did you experience even one instance of genuine joy? Or were you miserable around the clock? Were you constantly aching, without anyone to turn to?
Bucky folded the blankets he’d used to turn the couch into a makeshift bed. When he offered you- implored you- to take his bed, he knew you’d refuse. He knew that you’d feel guilty, that you’d say it was too kind a gesture. But it wasn’t a gesture at all. He really wanted you to take it. You’d sleep better in his bed than on the couch. And he wanted you to feel comfortable. To feel safe. 
He even changed the sheets, so you’d have a fresh set to curl up in. 
But you still refused. How could you accept an offer like that? Bucky had already done enough for you for one night; and you didn’t deserve any of it. You told him, time and time again, that the couch was just fine. That you’d survive sleeping in the living room. That he didn’t have to give up his bed for you- but he did it, anyway. 
Around 3am, you couldn’t refuse anymore. You waved a white flag; there was no fight left. On your shoulders rested the weight of Alex’s emotional abuse. And for the last year, you did your best to pretend it didn’t exist. To carry on. You put on a brave face and muscle through it, because complaining would only mean more pain. More punishment. More weight. But as you leaned against the door of Bucky’s bedroom, you couldn’t fight the heft anymore. It split your spine and crushed your lungs. Finally, it broke you.
You were too tired to argue with Bucky about who should sleep where. Too tired to put yourself back together. But Bucky was there to pick up the pieces. 
He carried you to his bed and secured the blankets around you. And for a while, no one spoke. He simply sat on the edge of the bed, holding your hand. His thumb stroked your knuckles every once and a while. His free hands adjusted your blankets where he deemed necessary. It was the most peace- the most care- you’d experienced since the last time you saw him. 
After a while, he figured he should leave you alone; he didn’t want to keep you awake any longer. And so, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, gave your hand a squeeze, and headed for the door. He told you to get some rest. To wake him if you needed anything- and he meant anything. And then he was gone.
You didn’t have it in you to call after him and beg him to stay with you. He’d done enough. So, you toughed it out. Alone. 
Everything in you just wanted to slip into unconsciousness, to sleep for eight or twenty hours. And you should’ve. You should’ve fallen asleep no problem. After everything that happened that evening- everything that happened over the last year- you were empty. Drained. And your body and mind needed rest. 
But sleep didn’t come. 
With each closing of your eyes, you were haunted by fears of Alex’s wrath. Of his consequences and punishments. Of the venom in his voice when he spoke to Bucky about you. Of returning home to him. 
The waking nightmare rooted itself in your mind- or maybe it was always there. Surely, you’d had these uneasy feelings about him before. But this was the first time you really let them sink in. The first time you’d given them any attention. 
Over the past year, you’d simply swatted these kinds of thoughts away, treating them like a bothersome gnat. But deep down, you knew they weren’t there to bother you- they were there as a warning. 
With sleep out of the question, you opted to stare at the ceiling. In the scant light that weaved through the blinds, you took stock of its appearance. It was old. Textured. Yellowed in places from water damage. Cracks veined their way across the expanse of the room, starting in one corner and ending in another. Part of you wondered how stable it was. Wondered if it the whole thing might fall in the middle of the night and crush you. You’d be okay with it if it did.
When staring at the ceiling grew boring, you turned on your side and observed the wall instead. It had scuff marks and indents. Chipping paint. But it was Bucky’s wall. And you were just lucky to be here- in his bed, staring at his bedroom wall. A long scrape across the paint rescued a long-banished memory from your most secretive vault. A vault Alex could never know about. 
It was the day that Bucky tried to put in new blinds. He’d fallen from his rickety step ladder and braced himself against the nearest wall, marring the already chipping paint with his vibranium elbow. The two of you laughed at his clumsy attempt, at his claims to be a “handyman”. 
The scene played out inside your mind and managed to bring a weak smile to the surface. But it wasn’t strong enough to keep the dread at bay.
After a while, the wall no longer held your attention. And the ceiling called your name once again.
On and on the staring-cycle went: ceiling, wall, ceiling wall. Of course, you could’ve gone to see Bucky in the living room. Or even called his name; surely, he would’ve come running. But who were you to wake him? Who were you to bother him in the middle of the night? He struggled enough with sleep as it was, and you’d kept him up late. Very late. He didn’t need you further hurting his chances for a restful night. 
Eventually, the sun peeked through the blinds, and you rolled onto your back for your ceiling-staring shift. Throughout the night, you lamented your insomnia. Cursed the buzzing anxiety that kept you awake. But as you laid there, tracing the border of the room with your eyes, a change in perspective struck you. And suddenly, the crushing weight of exhaustion didn’t bother you anymore. Because you were in Bucky’s apartment, in Bucky’s bed. This was the one place you never thought you’d see again. The one place that Alex strictly forbade. The one place that felt like home.
And though you were so tired that you swore your organs would soon fail, you didn’t care. You’d choose a lifetime of sleepless nights in this bed over a restful eight hours in Alex’s any day.
Around noon, the sharp squeak of an old hinge woke you- and you realized that you must’ve actually fallen asleep. That your body must’ve finally given out. After blinking a few times and giving your eyes a moment to adjust, you discovered the source of the sound.
There stood Bucky, still as stone, watching you. 
“Hey… sorry about the-” he pointed to the door. “The hinges are kinda old.”
“No, it’s…” you let loose a long yawn. “It’s okay.”
Bucky took a few tentative steps in your direction, as though testing the waters. Over the past year, you’d been emotionally gutted. The wounds Alex inflicted were still flayed open, bleeding. Throbbing. Bucky could practically see them spilling crimson all over the bed. Maybe you wanted him close by. Or maybe you wanted your space. 
Either way, he still wanted to check on you. He took another slow step toward you. 
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to see how you’re doing, see if you need anything,” he said.
Of course, he did. Because that’s who Bucky was- that’s who he always was. Kind and caring and thoughtful. Even when you overstepped your bounds. Even when you overstayed your welcome. Even after you pulled the plug on your friendship. He was there for you. 
You couldn’t fight the smile that stretched across your lips. “Oh, thanks- thank you. Yeah, I’m alright, I don’t need anything,” you shrugged. “You’ve done enough. What time is it?”
Bucky checked his phone, “noon.”
“Jesus Christ,” you ran a hand down the side of your face. Two hours. You’d gotten only two hours of sleep. And as you took a quick inventory of your body, you realized your estimate was probably a little generous. A dull ache pounded inside your skull. A heaviness sat on your shoulders. And a dense fog coated your mind. Every fiber of your being needed more rest. But now was not the time.
You’d already ruined Bucky’s Saturday night and stolen his bed, now you’d eaten up half of his Sunday. A jolt of alarm force you into an upright position. The room spun a little as a result.
“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” you pushed Bucky’s bedspread from your body. “I didn’t actually fall asleep till about ten this morning, so I guess I was just-”
Bucky couldn’t stop the ache that pierced his chest. He knew all too well what it was like to spend the night tossing and turning. The need for sleep and the simultaneous fear of the nightmares that followed. The soul crushing exhaustion. He wished he would’ve known that you were struggling to sleep. And he kicked himself for not checking on you periodically throughout the night. 
“Oh, sweetheart, I wish you would’ve come and got me,” he sighed. “I could’ve kept you company. We could’ve watched movies or talked or-”
It was sweet. It really was. But even the thought of waking him made you feel guilty. 
“Nah, I didn’t wanna bother you. And I…” Your eyes took on a far away, hollow quality. “I had a lot to think about.”
A long silence followed. 
A hurricane of emotions tore through you, drowning you in their downpour. The pain, the loneliness, the devastation, the anger, the self-hatred, the feeling of worthlessness. The last year showed you just how toxic, how isolating a relationship could be. And you grieved the life you could’ve had. The time you’d never get back. The people-the person- you lost.
But a sharp pain sunk its fangs into your soul, filling you with venomous questions. How dare you mourn? How dare you pity yourself? How could you let Alex manipulate you? How could you go along with his ultimatum? And how could you abandon Bucky? Did you ever care about Bucky at all? What kind of person puts their boyfriend before their best friend? Why did you show up at Bucky’s door? And why did you let him take care of you? Are you really that selfish?
 Who do you think you are?
You gave your head a small shake, freeing yourself from the sharp, deadly thoughts. “Anyway, I’m gonna grab my clothes and get out of your hair.” A quiet groan escaped your lips and you pulled yourself from Bucky’s bed. “I don’t wanna take up your entire Sunday.”
Bucky held a hand up, stopping you. “Woah, what? But you only slept two hours.”
“I’m okay! Really,” you lied. “And I don’t want to impose any more than I already have.”
Bucky gave you a pointed look. Oh, how you’d missed this look. It was the same look he used to give you every time you called yourself ‘an imposition.’ Every time you swore you’d worn out your welcome. Because he never, ever saw you that way. How anyone could see you as an imposition, as a bother, made no sense to him. But he knew of one person who thought of you like that. 
“Don’t look at me like that, Barnes,” you gave a breathy, tired laugh.
“I want you to stay for as long as you like. Honestly. I’m just happy to have you around,” he said. “So, if you wanna go back to sleep for a while, go for it. You’re more than welcome here.”
The words were too kind, the sentiment too genuine. And somewhere, deep down, something inside you broke. To know that there was, indeed, still kindness in the world shattered your remaining resolve. The entire time Alex had you locked away in his tower, you wondered if anyone else’s life had drained of all warmth and color, too. If there were still beautiful things. Or if it was only you who existed in a monochromatic hellscape.
And as Bucky wrapped an arm around you and helped you sit down on the bed, you got your answer. There were still beautiful things- and he was the most beautiful of all. 
The tears flowed freely over your newly destroyed emotional dam. And silent sobs robbed the oxygen from your chest. Hot tears dampened your cheeks, your neck, the collar of Bucky’s sweatshirt. Over the course of the year, you forbade yourself from crying like this. Every once and a while, you allowed a tear or two- but that was it. You knew that if you ever let these emotions free, forcing them back inside their cage would be impossible. But this was a true catharsis. True release. And Bucky helped you through the whole thing.
He rubbed your back, wiped your face, stroked your hair. He spoke soft, reassuring words. And he never tried to stop you. Not once did he tell you to calm down or to get yourself together. He simply let you feel what you needed to feel, what you prohibited yourself from feeling for the last twelve months. 
And when you finally cried yourself out, he wrapped your limp body in a blanket and helped you lay down. 
“Uh, I feel like you’re probably pretty dehydrated now,” he said as he got you situated. “So, I’m gonna go get you some water.” 
It pulled the smallest, most fragile laugh from you. He was right. You’d depleted your body completely, and you could already feel the dehydration headache blossoming between your eyes. But you didn’t care. Bucky took a step toward the door, only to feel your limp hand hook into his. He knew you well enough to know what it meant: you didn’t want him to leave. And he returned the feeling. Now that you finally found your way back into his life, he didn’t want to spend a second away from you. But the top priority was your well-being. 
“I’m gonna be right back, I promise,” Bucky knelt by the bed, meeting your eyeline. “It’ll only take a second.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, to your cheek, to your forehead, and then slipped out of the room. 
He was gone only a few minutes- five at the most. But for you, it was too long. After spending a year without so much as speaking to Bucky, you were desperate to make up for lost time. Hungry to spend every moment with him. And even a five-minute absence was enough to make your heart ache.
“Okay, okay. I’m back. Sorry,” Bucky swept through the bedroom door, an apologetic look on his face. “I figured you should probably eat something.” He offered you a plate of toast and placed two bottles of water on the nightstand. “Toast was the quickest option, but if you want something else, I can just-”
But the way you dove into the food was all the answer he needed. He sat on the edge of the bed, 
watching you wolf down the substitute breakfast, and wished he could’ve remade the omelet he prepared for you hours earlier. But you needed him. And he didn’t want you to wait. 
It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were hungry. You’d swallowed so much grief, so much pain- you didn’t notice your empty stomach. But Alex made you miss dinner. Your exhaustion made you skip breakfast. And your meager lunch from the previous day disintegrated long ago. 
But the smell of the toast brought your hunger into crisp focus. It gnawed on the inside of your abdomen and clawed up your throat. It echoed through the void. Sharp pains needled at your insides between waves of nausea. But the peanut butter toast quelled your discomfort. 
“Thank you,” you took a long swig of water. “I needed that.” 
“Anytime.”
“So, you… you don’t mind if I try to go back to sleep for a while?” Trepidation rendered your voice almost imperceptible. Had bucky not received the serum all those years ago, he wouldn’t have heard you at all. 
He encircled your hand with one of his, “I don’t mind at all.”
“Are you sure?” you said, louder this time. “Cause if you have plans or things you need to do, I totally get it. I can just-”
Bucky pulled your body into his, quieting your rambling. “This is all I’m doing today.” He held you there for a long moment. His hand smoothed up and down your back. His breath fanned the skin on your neck. And when your anxious heartrate returned to its normal pace, he released you.
“What plans do you think I had for today, sweetheart? Do you know who you’re talking to here?” Bucky laughed. “I’m not exactly Mr. Social Life.”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Maybe you were gonna to go a movie today. Or the farmer’s market, or something.”
“Nope. I don’t have any plans to speak of,” he said as he helped you get comfortable in his bed once again. “And I went to the farmer’s market last Sunday. So, I don’t need to go again.” He shot you a wink and brushed a kiss against your cheek. “You go back to sleep. I’ll be right outside if you need me. Okay?”
You nodded against the pillow that smelled like him and gave his hand one last squeeze. Everything in you screamed, begged, howled for him to stay. But you couldn’t ask. You couldn’t ask for another favor after all he’d done for you. Could you? No. It wasn’t right. He didn’t owe you shit. Everything he did to help you came simply from the endless well of goodness within him. And you were not about to ask for more. You couldn’t. 
But you did. 
“Buck?” 
He stopped in his tracks just as he reached the door. “Yeah?”
“Would you…” you rolled your eyes at yourself. Your neediness. Your greed. “Would you stay with me for a while?”
And just like that, he crawled into bed. No hesitation. No question. 
He sat next to you, his back resting against the headboard. “This alright?”
You nodded up at him. “Is it okay if I…” You lifted your head from his pillow and opted to rest it in his lap instead. And of course, he nodded in return.
Before things fell apart, before Alex’s ultimatum- this was a standard position for the two of you. When Bucky had a nightmare, or a panic attack, or a particularly bad flashback, he’d rest his head in your lap. When things got bad for him, it was the only way to remind him that he was real. That he was here. And that he wasn’t alone. Your fingers tangled gently in his hair. Your voice quietly called him away from the edge. And after a while, he’d return to himself. 
It felt almost blasphemous to co-opt his practice. To rest your head in his lap this way- especially after the way you abandoned him. There were, without a doubt, many instances over the last year when he’d needed this, when he’d needed you. And you weren’t there. Just thinking about it sent a lightning strike through your chest. What did he do in those moments? How had his soul broken through the haze and rejoined his body? Did he sit in this very apartment, all alone, waiting for the pain and terror to ebb on their own?
These thoughts tried to pull your head from Bucky’s lap. This wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair; not to you, not to him. You couldn’t commit sacrilege in this way. Couldn’t desecrate something that was once so sacred. But just as you attempted to move away, Bucky’s gentle hand rested on your shoulder.
“You okay? Comfortable?” He smiled down at you, awaiting your response. And you couldn’t find it in you to pull away from someone so beautiful and warm and kind. 
The rest of Sunday melted by without your participation. A dreamless sleep got its hooks in you and pulled you deeper, deeper, deeper. Bucky noticed you wake only a handful of times. And though he was sure you had to be hungry again when you woke in the evening, he didn’t push the issue. He let you sleep peacefully in his lap, with his hand smoothing gently over your hair. And when it was time for him to finally get some shut eye, he repositioned your head on his chest. 
That night, he slept better than he had in a year. 
In the morning, you woke to a cold, empty bed. And just as you wondered where Bucky could’ve gone, the smell of bacon answered your question. The aggressive hunger pangs poking at your stomach grew sharper as you took a deep inhale. Bacon, eggs, toast, coffee. Coffee.  You scrambled out of bed and found Bucky in the kitchen, leaning over the stove. 
“Morning!” He dragged his gaze away from the food to steal a look at you. Messy morning hair. Tired smile. Beautiful. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
But his words didn’t register right away. Your mind was too fixated on the stove full of food. And it dawned on you: this was the first time you’d ever seen him cook. Sure enough, a cutting board with the remnants of chopped tomatoes, green onions, and bell pepper sat next to the stove. And he was expertly presiding over bacon and two perfectly constructed omelets. 
“Um, what? Oh, no, you didn’t wake me,” you said. “Buck, you’re… cooking? You have groceries?”
He nodded. “I cook now,” he said with pride. “And yeah, I have groceries. I go shopping now, too.”
It was something so small, so normal to everyone else. But to Bucky- to you- it was a big deal. A huge deal. You crossed to the fridge and gave the door a pull, only to find it fully stocked. The back of your throat tightened a bit, a warm rush of tears blurred your vision. 
He’d always needed help with that kind of thing, with taking care of himself. When he was still trying to get acclimated to this world, to this time- he found himself in a hole. He’d fallen deep, deep down into a pit of depression and anxiety and existential dread. And menial tasks like grocery shopping were too daunting. Too overwhelming. So, you picked up the slack. You brought him groceries at least once a week, sometimes twice. You cooked for him a few days out of the week. And you did it with a smile. It wasn’t a hassle or a bother. It was something you did because you cared. Because you loved him. And if he needed help, you’d be the first to volunteer for the cause. 
He always swore he could handle it, swore that you didn’t need to stock his pantry. But without you, he would’ve gone hungry. Would’ve withered away to nothing. 
Over the course of the last year, you wondered how Bucky was getting his groceries. How he was getting his meals. If he was eating enough. Was he surviving on takeout? Or was he hungry? Picturing him alone in the apartment, his stomach and fridge empty, brought you to tears on more than one occasion. 
“This is…” You cleared your throat and forbade your voice from shaking. “This is great, Buck. I was worried that you’d been living off take out this whole time.”
“Well, I would’ve been,” he laughed. “But I didn’t have to. Remember that list you made me?” 
You wiped your eyes on the sleeve of Bucky’s sweatshirt and shut the fridge door. “What list?”
“A few weeks before Alex gave you his ultimatum, he got on you for being over here so much.” Bucky rolled his eyes at the memory. “Do you remember that?”
You grimaced and eventually nodded. 
“And you told me what he said. You told me you might not get to spend as much time here. And you wanted me to be prepared. So you made me a list- a grocery list- just in case.” He turned to face you and pointed at a drawer next to the fridge, “look in there.”
Sure enough, inside the drawer, you found a list. It was pristine, save for one slightly folded corner and a small water stain. Scrawled in your handwriting on a piece of notebook paper was everything Bucky would need from the store. It detailed everything- produce, dry goods, frozen ingredients. Everything you always used to buy for him. Everything he liked. 
“I still use it every time I go to shopping,” he said. “Even though I have it memorized by now.”
The list trembled like a leaf in your shaking hands. Maybe you hadn’t left Bucky completely destitute. Just knowing he’d had this life preserver to hold onto, knowing he’d been able to get himself groceries- to feed himself- because of you made your chest tighten. 
“In all honesty, I had kind of a hard time over the last year,” Bucky admitted. He spoke with his back to you, keeping his focus on the food. He didn’t want to look you in the eye. “I missed you. I hated not having you around. But that list was… I don’t know. It made me feel like even though we weren’t friends anymore, you still cared. You know?”
Words didn’t come. And even if they did, you wouldn’t have been able to speak. The sobs you tried so hard to corral sat trapped in your throat, struggling to break free. You tucked the list carefully back in the drawer and leaned against the counter. Bucky deserved better. He’d already been through so much in his life. And yet, you’d given him yet another hard year. A year of heartache and loneliness. A year of emptiness. Of silent dinners. A year of self-soothing.
Bucky peeked over his shoulder and found you with your head in your hands. Your shoulders shook ever so slightly. A riptide of guilt instantly pulled him under.
“Oh, sweetheart, no-” he made his way to your side and wrapped you in a hug. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
Your arms snaked up his chest and wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer to him. He had nothing to apologize for, nothing to feel guilty about. He’d simply told the truth: he had a hard year. And that was nothing to apologize for. Especially after what you’d done to him.
But there he was, apologizing. Consoling you when you didn’t deserve it. 
“You deserved better, Buck,” you whispered against his neck. “You deserved better from me.”
Urgently, you recoiled from his embrace and met his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I never ever wanted to hurt you. It wasn’t fair to you. I-”
“Hey,” he took your face in his hands. “It’s all water under the bridge. Okay?”
He slipped his hand into yours before you could protest and pulled you toward the stove. “Come on, breakfast is ready.”
The two of you got comfortable on the couch with your plates; Bucky watched as you devoured your breakfast of bacon, toast, and the beautiful omelet he crafted. And he couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at his lips. This was a total role reversal for the two of you. For once, he got to take care of you. He got to be your rock, your support system. He got to cook for you, feed you. And he meant what he said earlier. Everything that happened prior really was water under the bridge. He just wanted to be there for you. To make you feel comfortable and safe and cared for. To show you the love you deserved. 
“Oh, hey, I don’t know if you need this,” Bucky grabbed your phone off the arm of the couch and placed it next to you. “It’s been sitting out here since Saturday night.”
After a few taps to the black screen, you got the confirmation you needed. “It’s dead,” you said. 
“Okay, I have a charger in the kitchen. I can-”
“No, that’s okay. It’s probably for the best,” you shrugged. “I just know I’m gonna have like, four hundred texts and ninety mean voicemails from Alex.
Bucky grimaced. “Oh. Well, if you change your mind-”
“It’s probably a sign, right? Like, if I’m dreading turning on my phone because I don’t even want to see his messages…” You took a swig of your coffee, wishing it was something stronger. “It probably means that I shouldn’t be with him anymore. Right?”
Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. You were absolutely right; it was a sign. A sign that you needed to evacuate your relationship. But he didn’t want to weigh in and push you to make a decision. This needed to be something you decided on your own. And so, he simply listened and let you work it out yourself. 
“I mean, just thinking about going back to the apartment makes me-” you gave strong shudder. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to live there.” The words came lightning fast, falling from your mouth before you could process or edit them. “I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to live with him- I don’t want to be around him. I don’t want to be with him. I don’t- I don’t want any of it.”
Bucky clocked the slight shaking in your hands, the tremor in your voice. He moved closer and enveloped you in his arms. “Okay, it’s okay. You don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do. Alright?” He pulled away only slightly, searching for your eyeline. “You don’t have to be with him. If you’re done, then you’re done. And that’s that. Alright?”
The weight of the world suddenly vanished from its longtime perch on your shoulders. The pressure sitting on your chest evaporated. And you breathed a deep sigh of relief. The logical side of you knew that you didn’t have to be with Alex anymore. That you could pull the rip cord and free yourself at any moment. But somehow, doing so felt impossible. This whole time, the relationship felt like a jail cell. Like you’d been trapped inside puzzle box from which you couldn’t escape. But the second Bucky said it out loud, the walls of your cell disintegrated. He solved the puzzle box and let you out.
“Yeah. Okay, yeah. Um…” The smile brought on by your newfound freedom lasted only a few seconds. “But I- I do have to go back. I have to go get my stuff. I mean, my clothes, my work stuff – it’s all there.”
“So I’ll go,” Bucky said. “I don’t mind. I’ll go over there right now and get everything.”
Of course, he would. Of course, he’d drop everything and go get your stuff. Whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- he’d do it. No questions asked.
“Buck, that’s really- that’s so sweet. You’re really sweet,” You leaned into him once again, basking in his warmth. “But I- I need to be there, you know? You don’t know where everything is. And I need to make sure nothing gets left behind.” Dread filled your chest and crept up the back of your throat. If you never saw the inside of that apartment again, it would be too soon. 
“That doesn’t mean I can’t go with you,” Bucky shrugged. “Let me help. It’s gonna be way too much stuff for you to carry alone, anyway.” His expression darkened a few shades, his tone grew gravely serious. “And I don’t want you there by yourself, just in case Alex is home. I don’t think you should be alone with him.”
It was a morbid thought, but you knew Bucky was right. And no part of you wanted to be alone in the apartment. Not when the ghosts of your heartache freely roamed the halls. And if Alex was there, or if he came home early, you thought it best to have a friend. A witness. 
After changing into your now dry clothes, you plugged your phone into Bucky’s charger and abandoned it on the couch. Surely, it was about to blow up with a barrage of texts and missed calls from Alex. And you weren’t going to be there when it did.
Together, you and Bucky boarded the subway and headed in the direction of the apartment you shared with Alex. Anxiety sparked in your chest and set you alight from the inside. A pit opened in your stomach. There was no getting around this; it was a necessary evil. But with Bucky by your side, it wasn’t so bad. The looming darkness parted each time you looked at him, each time he gave your hand a squeeze. He was going to get you through this if it was the last thing he ever did. 
But heartrate jumped once you disembarked the train. And it skyrocketed as you and Bucky turned onto your street. Only a few blocks away sat your nightmare, your personal hell.
As the apartment building came into focus, your feet turned to cinderblocks. 
“It’ Monday, so he’s definitely at work by now,” Bucky reassured you. “You don’t have to worry about seeing him. Okay?”
You nodded. But your feet didn’t move.
“It won’t take long. We’re gonna grab your stuff and get out as quickly as we can. And then you never have to come back.” 
He was right. This was the last time you’d ever have to return to this godforsaken place- and Alex wasn’t even home. The unpleasant memories hanging in the air couldn’t hurt you. And you were more than entitled to retrieve your things. Alex took a lot from you, and you weren’t going to let him take any more.
The doorman greeted you with a friendly smile and a familiar “welcome home” as he opened the door for you and Bucky and waved you inside. The gilded lobby never brought you much comfort. It didn’t have a homey feel, it wasn’t warm or inviting. To you, it always seemed a little obnoxious. A little full of itself. It was fancier than you ever cared to be. Alex thought it gave him status. Stature. An air of importance. The whole thing made you gag.
“Jesus, I forgot how swanky this place is,” Bucky laughed as the two of you got into the elevator. “You sure you don’t wanna live here anymore?” He let out a dramatic huff as your shoulder gently nudged against his chest. 
 “I’m more than sure.”
Sweat beaded on your palms as you approached the front door of the apartment. All you had to do was go inside, grab your stuff, and get out. It wasn’t a large task. It wasn’t even going to be that difficult. But your stomach turned at the thought of passing through that door. And just as you teetered on the edge of a spiral, Bucky piped up, saving you.
He stood in front of your door and leaned against the frame. “So, how are we getting in, exactly? You don’t have your keys, and-” But he stopped when he saw you crouching near an air vent. “What are you doing?”
“I’m retrieving my back up plan.” 
He watched as you loosened the screws holding the vent shut and reached your arm inside. 
“A couple months ago, Alex and I got into a big fight. I know, shocking,” you rolled your eyes. “I came out here to cool off and have a moment to myself, and he locked me out for… hours. So, after that, ” You removed your arm from the vent and brandished a key in Bucky’s direction. “I taped this on the inside of the vent, just in case. I never had to use it until now.”
Bucky gave you quiet round of applause, “Brilliant.” 
But it wasn’t brilliant. Because when you tried to slide the key into the lock, it refused to budge. You tried once, twice, three times. Nothing. 
“He had the locks changed…” you muttered.
“What? Already? There’s no way…” Bucky tried the key- just to be sure- and met the same end. 
The plan came crashing down around you. And your dream of never seeing Alex again shattered into tiny pieces. 
“I’m gonna have to…” You ran a hand down the side of your face. Your breaths grew sharp and shallow. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. “I’m gonna have to text him. I’m gonna have to ask him to let me in. And he’s gonna have to be here. And he’s gonna-”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky took your face in his hands, calming the panic rising in your chest. “Did you forget that I’m a supersoldier?’
“No. Buck, You can’t-”
“And why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to get in trouble,” You pulled him away from the door, worried he could break it down at any moment. “Because of your pardon. I don’t want you to risk it.”
Bucky scoffed. “It’s my pardon, doll, so, I’ll decide who I risk it for.” 
He resumed his position in front of the door and wrapped his metal hand around the knob. With one last glance over his shoulder, he ensured the hallway was empty. And when he found the coast clear, he gave the handle a sharp twist and forced his weight against the door with his metal shoulder. The wood gave a loud groan, and the new lock gave out a sharp metallic whine. But it worked. 
“Alright, let’s get inside, someone will have heard that.” Bucky ushered you inside and gave a cursory look down the hall- but found no one.
A sharp shiver crept up your spine. Goosebumps rose over your skin. The air inside seemed colder, more sinister than you remembered. But the clock was ticking, and you wanted to spend the shortest possible amount of time here. With a deep breath, you righted your mind and forced yourself to focus. When all was said and done and you successfully escaped with your things, you could fall apart. But not yet. Not now. 
“Okay, I’m gonna go grab my work stuff first. Can you…” You took Bucky by the hand and lead him into the kitchen. Under the sink, you found a box of trash bags. You freed them from the cabinet and thrust them into Bucky’s hands. “Can you go into the bedroom and just start putting my clothes in these bags? My closet and dresser are on the far side of the room.”
Bucky nodded and headed off for his mission- only to stop in his tracks. He’d only been here once, and it was far too long ago for him to remember his way around. “Um, sweetheart?” he called. 
“Down the hall, fourth door on your left!”
“God, this place is huge…” he said. His voice echoed down the hall and found you in the kitchen.
And he was right. As far as apartments go, Alex’s was massive. High ceilings, several spare rooms, a gigantic kitchen- it wasn’t anything like the shoebox apartments you’d lived in over the years. Alex insisted that you move into his cavernous home, and you obliged. But this space never felt like home to you. It was more like a museum- cold, quiet. And you always got in trouble for touching things.
In the living room, you searched for your work laptop. It always sat on the end table next to your side of the couch, but you didn’t find it there. It was unlike you to leave it anywhere else, but still, you weren’t perfect. Maybe you left it in the study, or the bedroom. Maybe it was-
Just then, something caught your attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the shiny silver surface of your laptop. It lay haphazardly next the armchair, still half open. A pit formed in your stomach. And though you knew in that moment that this was Alex’s doing, what you found still knocked the wind from your chest.
Several keys were missing. The screen was cracked beyond repair. And pressing the power button brought no life. The charger sat next to your computer, having been severed right in the middle. Alex was never the destructive type- or so you thought. He never punched walls or broke things out of anger. No, he expressed his wrath through biting words that pierced your skin and made you bleed. This was a new low for him. 
Just as you’d begun to wrap your mind around the destruction, Bucky’s voice echoed from down the hall.
“Hey, doll. I think… um, you should come here.” The trepidation in his voice activated alarms inside your mind.
And though you did your best to steel yourself against what you might find in the bedroom, the reality was worse than you imagined. 
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Bucky draped an arm across your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “You don’t deserve this.”
Before you lay a sea of your belongings, scattered and strewn across the floor. Pages were torn from books and crumpled into balls. Large rips and tears frayed the fabric of your clothes. Feathers leaked from a hole in your pillow. Every single page of your journal had been shredded into the tiniest possible pieces. An overwhelming sense of grief punched you in the stomach. The small stuffed cat you’re your childhood had its head severed. The jewelry box your grandmother gave you in high school lay in pieces. It was all so disturbing, so demented. So purposefully and pointedly cruel.
You didn’t think it could possibly get any worse- until you decided to pop your head into the bathroom. All of your make up sat piled in the garbage. Broken bottles. Shattered compacts. Destroyed brushes. The rest of your beauty products- your skincare, your haircare, your perfume- rested on top of your make up. Every bottle had been opened and dumped out, creating a sticky, disgusting mess. There was no salvaging any of it, no saving even one item. And sprinkled on top of the entire muddied disaster was your anxiety medication- the medication you sought because of Alex’s reign of terror. He always mocked you for needing medicine, for struggling with your anxiety. Ironically, his torments made you up your dosage.
A sense of weakness crept up the back of your legs, and your knees began to buckle. If Bucky hadn’t reached you in time, you would’ve collapsed against the cold tile floor. But he saved you- again. He held you against his body as endless waves of pain washed over you. He told you time and time again that everything was replaceable, that these things were just things- and your safety was more important than any earthly possession. But his heart broke for you. These were still your belongings. They still mattered to you. And even though your life was more important, he recognized just how violating this was. How dehumanizing. 
A special kind of rage smoldered in his chest. Alex didn’t deserve you- he never did. And you didn’t deserve to be treated with such callousness. 
“We’re gonna get this taken care of. I promise,” Bucky whispered against your hair. “It’s all replaceable. And we can-”
A sudden bolt of concern hit you like a ton of bricks. You yanked your head from Bucky’s chest and met his eyes with your panic-blown pupils. And then you were gone. 
Bucky watched as you sprinted toward your nightstand, tripping over your destroyed belongings in the process. You knelt in front of your nightstand and pulled it from the wall, searching desperately for something- but Bucky wasn’t sure what. 
Relief flooded your face as you pulled a small manila envelope from behind your nightstand and held it to your chest. The two pieces of duct tape that had held it in place got stuck to your skin for just a moment, but you didn’t seem to care. Just to be sure, you opened the envelope and looked inside, breathing a deep sigh of relief upon learning that Alex didn’t touch whatever it was that you held so precious.
After that, the destruction didn’t seem to bother you as much.
The two of you stuffed all your belongings into trash bags, opting to go through them later at Bucky’s place. Surely, there was something to be saved. Something worth keeping. But determining that could take time, and you didn’t want to spend an extra second in this hellhole. 
Ripped clothes, broken shoes, and cracked picture frames- among other things- filled three large bags. And when you cleared the room, a sense of peace wrapped you in a hug. 
“Okay, what else?” Bucky asked expectantly. “Is there anything of yours in the kitchen, or the living room, or anything?”
You shook your head. “Nope, this is…” You eyed the trash bags. “This is it. This is all my stuff.”
Bucky cocked his head to the side and thought about the prized possessions from your old apartment. “Really? What about your stand mixer? Or your grandma’s quilt?”
Again, you shook your head. “All that kind of stuff is at my parents’ house. When I moved in here, Alex didn’t want me to bring any of my décor or my kitchen supplies- my stuff wasn’t fancy enough for him.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. Alex seemed to be the personification of a red flag. How someone could treat another human being so poorly baffled him. And how anyone could treat you this way was beyond his comprehension.
“Okay, well, at least we know that stuff is okay,” Bucky offered. 
And he was right. When Alex first told you he didn’t want your “tacky” décor and “outdated” kitchen appliances in his home, it hurt. It made you feel small, less than. And from that day on you always felt that you needed to prove yourself to him, to show him that you were, in fact, good enough. But being good enough for him meant never curling up with the quilt your grandmother made you. Never making cookies using your mom’s hand-me-down mixer. Never feeling a sense of home.
Bucky double-checked the ties of the last trash bag, ensuring they were nice and tight. “Hey, what was all that about?” Bucky pointed to the manila envelope tucked under your arm. “Or is it a secret?’
“Technically, it’s not a secret, I guess- well, it’s not a secret from you. But it was a secret from Alex.” You freed the envelope from under your arm, “It’s not juicy or scandalous or anything, but it’s important to me. And-”
The sound of footsteps in the kitchen halted your words. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. A cold sweat appeared across the surface of your skin. And you feared the beautiful breakfast Bucky worked so hard to make you would make a reappearance.
“Hello? Hey, sweetheart…” Bucky waved a hand in front of your face. He’d been trying to get your attention for a few moments now to no avail. You were still as stone, completely frozen with fear. He placed his hands on your shoulders and gave you a soft shake. “Doll.”
“Buck…” Only your eyes moved. Finally, you met his gaze with your massive, terror-dilated pupils. “He’s here. I can’t- I can’t do this. I’m not-”
“Hey, hey- it’s okay.” His palms rested on your cheeks, “You’re fine. You’re okay. You don’t have to talk to him – you don’t even have to make eye contact with the guy, okay?” He waited, allowing your panic-struck brain to process his words. And finally, you granted him a small nod.
He swept his thumbs over your cheeks one final time before pulling his hands from your face. He lifted a garbage bag from the floor and handed it to you. 
“Here, you take this. And I’ll-” He picked up the other bags and tucked one under each arm, “I’ll take these. And we’re out of here. Okay? We’re just gonna walk right out.”
With another nod, you agreed to his plan.
But walking past Alex without speaking, without making eye contact seemed easier said than done. After being with him for so long, you knew he wasn’t going to just let you breeze past him. He wasn’t going to let you go without a fight- not because he loved you, but because his pride wouldn’t allow it. 
The anxiety made your head swim and left you weak in the knees. Your vision blurred; your chest tightened. You knew Alex was waiting for you, smug and impatient. You knew he was going to tear into you the second he laid eyes on you. But there was only one way out of the apartment. And if you could just make it out the door, you’d be free. And so, with Bucky gently encouraging you, the two of you headed for the exit. 
Bucky went first, hoping to take the brunt of the verbal assault. Putting himself between you and Alex and providing you with a shield seemed like the best possible plan to Bucky. He wasn’t going to allow you to go first, not when Alex could so easily lunge at you or throw something in your direction. And after witnessing Alex’s destruction of your personal belongings, Bucky knew there was a chance that Alex would try something. That he might be violent. 
Finally, the two of you made it to the kitchen. Bucky locked eyes with Alex first, eliciting a loud guffaw from your soon-to-be-ex’s lips. 
“Wow. How’d I know you’d be with him?” Alex let out a sharp laugh as you entered the kitchen. “How’d I know?” 
But you didn’t answer. You kept your eyes down, just as Bucky instructed, and allowed the sound of your best friend’s quiet reassurances guide you forward. Shuffling through the kitchen with a garbage bag full of your broken belongings, avoiding your tormentor’s eye contact- it all felt so pathetic. You’d never felt so low, so small.
“You look so surprised to see me, baby!” Alex teased. Your skin crawled. “Guess you didn’t realize that the neighbors like me better than you. And that they’d call me when the saw you break the lock.”
You refused to take the bait. Refused to let him get a reaction out of you. All he wanted was the satisfaction of upsetting you. The gratification of hurting you and twisting he knife. And you weren’t going to give it to him.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Alex took only one step in your direction, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. “You’re not gonna- Hey! You look at me when I’m talking to you!” He dropped his teasing, taunting tone and adopted the sharp, volatile way of speaking he often used around you. 
Instantly, your gaze snapped in Alex’s direction. Muscle memory did its best to protect you, to remind you that obeying was always yielded better results than the alternative. He locked eyes with you, fury burning behind his stare. He took another step toward you, prompting Bucky to block your body with his.
“You’re not gonna break into my house, steal a bunch of shit, and get off scot-free,” Alex scolded. 
Bucky stepped closer to Alex, allowing you to make a path toward the front door. Seeing Bucky stand up to the man who’d made your life a living hell brought the smallest of smiles to your face. He really cared about you. Wanted to defend you. It was a new experience for you. On one occasion, a handsy, shitfaced man at a bar downtown felt you up as you waited for a drink. You looked to Alex for help, for defense, for something- but he didn’t care. He bought the offender a drink and apologized for your antics.
But anyone who hurt you hurt Bucky, too.
A debate sparked inside of you at the site of Bucky taking such a confrontational stance toward Alex. Half of you wanted Bucky to back off, to stay away from Alex, to protect his pardon. But the other half wanted nothing more than to watch Bucky tear Alex to shreds. To see Alex’s blood stain the brilliant marble floors. 
Once you’d gotten out of Alex’s reach, Bucky turned his back on the man and headed in your direction. Freedom was so close- you could almost taste it. But just as you reached for the door, Alex said something that stopped you dead in your tracks.
“Okay, sure! Have fun with the psychotic murderer!” 
Something inside you snapped.
Slowly, deliberately, you turned in his direction. The trash bag tucked under your arm fell to the floor, and all fear Alex previously elicited within you vanished. That anxiety, that panic vacated its spot, making room for a white-hot rage. 
Bucky’s hand encircled your wrist, “Sweetheart, don’t. He’s not worth it.”
But it was too late. No one- especially not Alex- was allowed to speak about Bucky that way. No one was allowed to disparage the kindest person you’d ever met. Over the course of your painful relationship with Alex, you stood up for yourself once. Maybe twice. It never seemed like it was worth the effort or the fight, but Alex speaking about Bucky with such blind hatred ignited a fire within you. Bucky was worth the fight. 
“First of all,” you said, “You don’t get to talk about him. You don’t know him- you’re not good enough to know him. He’s a better person that you could ever dream of being. Because Bucky actually has a soul. He actually knows how to care for people.”
Adrenaline rushed to your head. Speaking to Alex this way felt good- amazing, even. And without fear of consequences or retaliation, you let loose.
“And second, I didn’t break into your house if this is my house too- and you changed the locks!” You spat at him. His eyes widened a bit as your unexpected ferocity boiled over. “And this stuff-” you pointed to the garbage bags, “is mine! It’s my stuff that you broke because you had a fucking tantrum! I’m not stealing anything from you… you stole from me! You stole over a year of my life that I will never get back.”
You took a few more steps in Alex’s direction, much to Bucky’s dismay.
“You did everything you could to tear me down and fucking destroy my self-worth. You pulled me away from my family and my friends- and for what? Just so you could feel special? So, you could feel superior? Are you that insecure? Is your manhood that fragile?”
Alex’s bravado faltered every so slightly. His smug grin faded. His jaw tensed. But he did his best to recover. To seem aloof, bored. He rolled his eyes, “Well, I-”
“I’m speaking,” you hissed. 
Alex quieted. Fear flickered in his eyes.
“You controlled every fucking aspect of my life!” you yelled. “You made me believe I wasn’t good enough- that you were the only one who would ever love me. And you gave me a goddamn ultimatum that almost ruined my friendship the person who loves me most- with the person I love most.”
Bucky couldn’t help the blush that warmed his cheeks.
“Most of the things you did to me can be fixed. I’ll rebuild my self-worth. I can fix my relationships with my friends. But the one thing I will never get back is the time that I could’ve spent with Bucky,” your voice wavered ever so slightly, but the wrath burning inside you immediately fortified it again. “And for that, I wish you nothing but pain and suffering.” 
Satisfied, you turned on your heel and headed for the door. But Alex wasn’t done.
“Oh, so I’m the bad guy cause I didn’t want you spending all your time with another man?” Alex scoffed. ”You were always sleeping over at his house- in his fucking bed. When you weren’t talking to him, you were talking about him. You always put him first- you’re IN LOVE with the guy!”
Neither you nor Bucky spoke. And you didn’t dare look at him. An intense warmth rushed into your cheeks. Your heart raced. And though you wanted to throw a rebuttal in Alex’s face, no words came. You hated to admit it, but he was right. 
You were, of course, in love with Bucky. You always had been- it wasn’t even a question. How anyone met him and didn’t fall in love with him was a mystery to you. He was so sweet, so thoughtful, so endlessly and overwhelmingly kind. He made you laugh harder than anyone you’d ever known. Loving him came instantly. Naturally. 
Bucky’s mouth ran dry at Alex’s accusation. And his heart stopped when you didn’t refute it. Never before had he ever rooted for Alex, of all people, to be right. But there’s a first time for everything.
“But, yeah,” Alex continued, “I’m the bad guy cause I didn’t want my girlfriend whoring herself out to some other guy…”
A past version of you would’ve teared up at a comment like that. Alex’s words would’ve broken your heart and left you bleeding all over the place. But this new you- the version that Bucky helped coax into the world- didn’t care. Alex didn’t have power of you, not anymore.
With a chuckle, you turned your back on Alex and strutted toward the door. He hollered insults at you- calling you a slut, a whore, a good-for-nothing bitch. But the words rolled off of you like water off a duck’s back.
“Good luck with her, man!” Alex called after Bucky, “You can have her! Please, take her off my hands! She’s all yours.” 
Bucky followed you into the hallway, beaming with pride. He’d wanted to speak up, to tell Alex off, to tear him apart for speaking badly of you. But this was your fight, not his. And he knew you didn’t need anyone defending your honor. Didn’t need him stealing your moment. After everything Alex did to you, you deserved to scream at him. To get everything off your chest. To give Alex a small taste of his own medicine. Bucky was only there for moral support. For protection. 
He placed your things gently on the floor and wrapped you in a bear hug. This was the version of you he’d known so well all those months ago. Before Alex stripped you of your confidence and whittled you down to nothing. 
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered against your neck. “That’s my girl.”
“Thank you…” You breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. Finally, it was over. But it still felt too early to celebrate, to revel in the victory. You were still in the hallway outside the apartment. Still in the building. Still, technically, in Alex’s clutches. “Let’s get out of here.”
“One sec. I forgot something.” Bucky turned for the door, but you caught his arm.
“Don’t,” you pled. “Just don’t. I know what you’re thinking, and he’s not worth it.” You just knew Alex would take such unbridled joy in Bucky physically attacking him. Knew he’d love nothing more than to have Bucky arrested and charged with assault. The thought made you nauseous. “He’s not worth your pardon.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt nim,” he promised. “I just wanna talk to the guy.”
For a long moment, you searched his face for any sign that he was lying. The twitch of a brow. The hint of a smile. But you came up empty. And so, you released him. 
“Wait for me downstairs, okay?” He brushed a kiss against your cheek and disappeared inside the apartment once again.
Bucky found Alex leaning against the counter, whiskey in hand. He barely looked up at the sound of Bucky’s boots, but Bucky clocked the eye roll Alex threw his way. 
“Let me guess, you’re back to teach me a lesson?” Alex mocked. “Oh, I’m so scared of the depressed, PTSD- riddled, lame-ass version of the Winter Soldier.” He feigned a fearful expression and made himself laugh before taking a swig of his drink. “What are you gonna do, therapize me to death?”
But Bucky maintained a calm aura- almost too calm. His hands didn’t shake with fury. His heartrate didn’t spike. He kept his breathing even. He approached Alex with a thin, tense smile, and even maintained the expression as his metal hand wound around the man’s throat. Before Alex knew what hit him, his body was pressed against the nearest wall. His feet dangled a few inches above the floor as he fought for his freedom, but it was useless. 
Bucky’s tone was composed, measured, even. It sent a chill down Alex’s spine.
“You know how much pain you inflicted on her,” Bucky said. “But you didn’t actually experience it yourself. You didn’t feelit. And as much as I would love to give you a first-hand recreation…” His grip tightened ever so slightly. “I promised her I wouldn’t hurt you. So, I’m just gonna tell you what will happen if you ever bother her again. You listening?”
Alex struggled to nod. A breathy “yes” was all he could manage.
“Good.”
Bucky’s voice grew lower, sharper, vicious. “I’ll break every single one of your ribs. One at a time. I’ll crush your chest so painfully slowly that you will feel the shards of your bones pierce your heart and lungs. And I’ll watch with a smile as you drown in your own blood,” Bucky said. “You will never speak to her or about her ever again- you won’t even think about her. And if you so much as mention her name- if you say anything less than gracious about her in your little douchey finance bro group text, I will make your life a living hell.” He paused a moment, relishing in Alex’s terrified expression. “You keeping up so far?”
Again, Alex struggled to speak. The lack of air and sudden influx of fear left him almost unable to think. But he managed a quiet “yes.”
“Excellent,” Bucky smiled. “You won’t call her. You won’t text her. You won’t harass her. You won’t stalk her social media or drunkenly call her at two in the morning. You’re going to leave her alone- forever. And if you ever- ever- contact her again, I’ll know. And I’ll be here. I’ve broken that door down once, I’ll be happy to do it again.”
With that, he released his grip on Alex’s neck and sent him crashing to the floor. Watching the man who hurt you sputter and struggle for breath filled Bucky with a sick, twisted kind of joy. Finally, it was Alex who was scared. Alex who was uncomfortable. Alex who felt pain. 
“The only contact you’re going to have with her,” Bucky continued, “is the Venmo payment you’re gonna send her for all of the things of hers you destroyed. Her clothes, her make up, her jewelry- all of it. And it’s going to be a very generousamount to make up for all of the sentimental stuff you destroyed, since you know damn well that she won’t be able to replace any of it.” He knelt next to Alex, getting extra close to the terrified man shaking on the floor. “And I know you’ve got the money. So, if it’s not enough, I’ll be back.”
He flashed a winning smile Alex’s way, “Have a nice day.”
Finally, he stood and stalked for the door, a satisfied smile stretching across his face.
The minutes dragged by without Bucky. You sat perched on one of the sofas in the apartment lobby, waiting for him to meet you. Every time the elevator doors opened, you hoped to see his tall frame and your other two bags of stuff. And every time, you were disappointed. It was nice of him to put his pardon on the line for you, to risk his freedom in order to get you the justice you deserved. But it was the last thing you wanted. After spending so much time away from him, your greatest desire was to simply be with him. To spend every minute with him. And you couldn’t do that if he landed himself in prison on assault charges. 
When he finally made his way to the lobby, you scanned him for any signs of a struggle. But his clothes weren’t out of place. And you didn’t find blood crusted over his knuckles. Nothing was amiss. He had the two remaining bags of your belongings tucked under his arms, and a calm, cool demeanor. But even though he didn’t seem riled up, you eyed him with suspicion. Surely, he hadn’t spent all that time upstairs just talking to Alex. 
“Hey, I’m gonna call us an Uber,” Bucky said as he met you at the couch. “That way we don’t have to bring all of your stuff of the train. Are you-”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “What did you do?”
Bucky shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. I just wanted to talk to him-”
“Buck…”
“What?” He shot you a mischievous grin. “I just wanted to give him a piece of my mind. He’s still alive, still breathing, and all of his blood is inside of his body where it belongs.” A sudden seriousness eclipsed his expression. He dropped the playful attitude, placed your things on the couch, and pulled out his phone. “Anyway,” he tapped away at his phone, calling the two of you a ride. “Let’s get you the hell out of here. Sound good?”
He got his answer in the form of a long, nearly asphyxiating hug. The sheer force of your body launching into his knocked the wind from his lungs and sent him reeling backward. A deep laugh bellowed from his chest as he righted his footing and wrapped his arms around you. 
“Thank you so much…” you whispered against his neck. “For everything.”
Bucky’s lighthearted laughter vanished. “Of course, sweetheart.” He doubled down on the hug, pulling you tighter. “You know I always have your back.”
He refused to break the hug. Instead, he allowed you to rest there in his arms, with your face buried in the crook of his neck. Passersby threw strange looks your way, but Bucky paid them no mind. Only when his phone chimed, signaling the arrival of your car, did you finally force yourself to withdraw from his embrace. 
The ride back to Bucky’s was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of your garbage bags. And though you didn’t say a word over the course of the drive, you didn’t dare let go of Bucky’s hand. Your fingers remained so tightly intertwined with his that your knuckles ached- but you held firm. You knew better than to release your grip on a life preserver. 
“Alright, um, is there someplace you want me to set all this stuff?” you asked once you’d returned to Bucky’s. You eyed your overstuffed trash bags sitting in the middle of the living room floor. “I don’t want them to be in the way.”
Bucky just shrugged; he really didn’t seem to mind that your belongings completely encroached on his space. “I’m not worried about it, doll,” he shot you a reassuring smile, “You put ‘em wherever you like.”
But you couldn’t let your things take up the entirety of Bucky’s living room. After everything he’d done for you, you refused to be a less than perfect houseguest. With the toe of your shoe, you pushed the bags into a corner to keep them out of Bucky’s way. You sunk your weight into the large, overstuffed bags, hoping to make them as small as you possibly could. It was the very least you could do. 
“Alright, I’m-” You grabbed your phone off the charger and cleared Alex’s old notifications from the screen with a roll of your eyes. “I’m gonna go call my boss and let her know that a petulant man-child destroyed my work laptop.”
Bucky loved hearing you talk this way. Only a few hours ago, speaking about Alex made you shudder. It turned into a shaking, fragile shell of yourself that Bucky almost didn’t recognize. But you’d stood up to him. You finally fought back. And now, you were casually shit-talking him in Bucky’s living room. 
“And then I’m gonna start looking for a new place to live so I can get out of your hair as soon as possible,” you said as you scrolled through your contacts in search of your boss’s number. “I’m gonna borrow your room for a minute so I can talk with my boss. I’ll be right back.”
The stress of your current situation poked at the back of your mind. You did your best to shut it out and keep moving forward, but pangs of anxiety shocked you every few moments. Yes, you’d freed yourself from Alex’s shackles. And yes, you finally had Bucky back. But your work computer was a goner. You’d missed two meetings today already. And you were now without a place to live. 
Bucky listened to your footsteps growing further and further down the hall as your words buzzed inside his brain. You were going to look for a new place to live. You were going to leave. He didn’t mean to blurt it out, didn’t mean to make his offer in such a strange fashion- but he couldn’t help it.
“You could always live here,” he called after you. And it was too late to force the words back into his mouth. 
Once again, you joined him in the kitchen, a look of bewilderment on your face. “What?”
A nervous smile stretched across Bucky’s face. “I just mean, you’re more than welcome to live here. With me,” he shrugged. “I know this place isn’t nearly as nice as Alex’s, and it’s only a one bedroom- but if you wanted to live here, we could make it work. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”
The absurdity of Bucky’s words made you shake your head. “Buck, I’m not gonna make you sleep on the couch in your own home-”
“It’s really okay,” he insisted. “We both know I don’t sleep much, anyway. And if you moved in here, I’d want you to take the bedroom.”
His kindness gave you whiplash. After being with someone so callous, so cruel for so long, Bucky’s warmth was shocking. Unexpected. And though you wanted nothing more than to make a home with him, you couldn’t accept his offer. 
“I can’t do that to you…”
“Yes, you can. I want you to.” Bucky was resolute in his words. His voice didn’t waver, he didn’t break eye contact. He meant what he said.
A long silence filled the room. Of course, you wanted to say yes. You wanted to move in with him and start the next chapter of your life with your best friend by your side. But just as your ‘yes’ tried to slip out of your mouth, you stopped it. You couldn’t accept his offer. At least, not with the proposed conditions. 
“Counteroffer,” you said. “I move in here, and we share the bedroom.”
Your proposal threw Bucky for a loop- but he’d do anything you wanted. All you had to do was ask. 
“Okay, yeah,” he conceded. “The room’s kinda small but we could fit two small beds in there. It might be a little cramped, but-”
“That’s not what I meant,” you laughed. “We would share the bed. I mean, we’ve slept in that bed together more times than I could count. This wouldn’t be any different.”
Bucky’s heart soared. Not only did he have his best friend back- but you wanted to share a bed like the old days. The good days. It was all he could’ve hoped for. 
“And, that way, I’ll be right there in case you have a nightmare or a panic attack,” you said, satisfied. “I can wake you up and make sure you’re alright.” The smile on your face was warm, genuine. You looked forward to helping Bucky, to comforting him. “It’s a win-win in my book.”
It made Bucky melt. He extended a hand in your direction, “Works for me, doll. Deal?”
You extended your hand and almost met his- but an anxious thought made you recoil.
“And you’re sure that you’re okay with me being here all the time? You’re not gonna get tired of me?”
Alex always made you feel like a bother. He’d asked- practically begged- you to move into his apartment. But once you finally fulfilled his request, he looked at your presence with contempt. He made it known that he was frustrated, that he felt like you were always around. And regardless of your newfound freedom, that wound hadn’t healed.
“Cause I work from home, you know. So, I’m gonna be here a lot,” you told him. “I mean, pretty much all day, every day. And if that’s too much, I-”
“I want you to be here- all the time,” Bucky promised. 
And he meant it. 
Finally, your hand found his and delivered a firm shake. “Deal.”
With your housing arrangements taken care of, you once again headed down the hall to call your boss. Everything felt lighter, easier, less overwhelming. Only moments ago, you didn’t know where you’d be sleeping a few days from now. But Bucky swept in- again- and saved the day. He offered you the homelife you’d dreamt of every night since meeting him. He made your dream a reality. 
Bucky remained in the kitchen, silently processing what just happened. Did he really ask you to move in? And did you actually say yes? His heart pounded in his chest. This was the best possible outcome. The fantasy he’d envisioned for years. To have you so close by, to see you every day, to live under the same roof as you- it was all he’d ever wanted. His eyes drifted to the garbage bags that you shoved into a corner of his living room. When he said that he didn’t mind you putting them there, he meant it. He was just happy- elated, really- to have your things in his home. To know that this was their permanent residence. To know that this was your permanent residence. 
And though everything in those bags was mostly destroyed, you were okay. You were safe and comfortable. You were home now. 
When you finally finished your call, you found Bucky in the kitchen. He stood over a swath of sandwich ingredients, assembling a much-needed meal for the two of you.
“I thought you might be hungry,” he said. “You in the mood for lunch?”
“I’m starving,” you told him. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you were hungry. The stress of the day muted your body’s hunger signals completely. But somehow, Bucky knew. He always knew what you needed.
The two of you sat on the living room floor, going through your possessions and eating your sandwiches. Bucky helped you comb through each bag of stuff as you determined what, if anything, could be salvaged. His heart broke as the ‘trash’ pile grew, and grew, and grew. It severely outweighed the ‘save’ pile- and you’d only been through one bag. Alex reduced your belongings by at least seventy percent. But you didn’t seem to mind much.
As you were made well aware, there were worse things in life than torn clothes and destroyed make-up. A volatile, loveless relationship, a partner who hated you, a year without the person you loved most; your broken laptop paled in comparison. 
Only one possession really mattered to you- and it survived the rampage. But as you glanced over at the kitchen counter in search of your manila envelope, your heart stopped. Every function within your body came to a screeching halt. It was nowhere to be seen.
Did you drop it in the apartment lobby? Forget it in the Uber? Was your most beloved personal item sitting on the sidewalk outside Alex’s building?
Bucky clocked the anxiety in your expression, the way your eyes searched every inch of the kitchen. He could always sense even the smallest of changes in your demeanor- sometimes before you sensed them yourself. 
“Hey, is everything alright?”
“I’m just looking for my-” A sigh of relief left your chest as your gaze landed on your envelope. It was tucked under a worn cookbook, with only one of its manila corners poking out. “Never mind, I found it.”
Bucky glanced over his shoulder and scanned the kitchen until he realized what had you so panicked. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t want to get anything on it while I was making us lunch,” Bucky said. “So, I just put it under my cookbook to be safe. Is that okay?”
With a breathless nod, you assured him it was just fine. But your heart still boomed inside your chest, and the sweat on your palms still left your skin slick. 
“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the deal with that envelope?” Bucky asked, testing the waters. “If it’s none of my business, I completely understand. But I could’ve sworn you were about to tell me back at the apartment.”
“And someone just had to interrupt us,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain. “It’s not too personal, I just had to hide it from Alex. I want you to see, though.”
Bucky was right about one thing. You’d tried to show him the contents of the envelope back at Alex’s. But he had the rest wrong; it was his business just as much as it was yours. He just had no idea how personal the contents of that envelope were to him.
You ditched the pile of damaged clothes sitting in your lap and stood, offering your hand to Bucky. “Come on, let me show you.”
Bucky gladly accepted your hand and laced his fingers with yours on the walk to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what to expect from your special, secret envelope. But he didn’t care. Whether it was a child’s messy crayon drawing or the nuclear codes- it didn’t matter. All that mattered to him was that the contents of this envelope were important to you. And if they were important to you, they were important to him.
“Okay, so, a little backstory…” You slid the envelope out from underneath the book and held it to your chest. “After Alex told me to stop spending so much time with you but before he issued the ultimatum, we got into this big fight,” you rolled your eyes, “I know that comes as a surprise to no one.”
Bucky chuckled at your joke, but the words made his chest ache. To him, your time with Alex sounded more like active combat than love. More like a battlefield than a relationship. 
“And during that fight,” you continued, “he told me I had way too many pictures of me and you on my phone. He thought that at least three-quarters of my phone’s storage was just pictures of us, and he said it was disrespectful to my relationship with him.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, “of course, he did.”
“So, he told me I needed to go through my camera roll and delete every picture of you and me. He said it needed to be done by the time he got home from work the next day, and they actually had to be gone for real. Not saved to the cloud. Not hidden in a private album. Deleted forever.”
Bucky grimaced, “That’s fucking vile.” 
It made Bucky sick to his stomach. He cherished his photos of the two of you. Over the course of the last year, he found himself scrolling through those pictures every day. Several times a day. It was a coping mechanism, a respite from the void you left behind. When his chest ached with the pain of missing you, he’d dive headfirst into the hundreds of photos of the two of you. The selfies from the zoo. The pictures from Sam’s wedding. The blurry snapshot of you braiding his long hair. And for a while, he felt like himself again. The pain would ebb, the soul-crushing grief would let up. It was his saving grace.
If he suddenly had to rid his phone of those images, he’d never know peace again.  
“I know. I thought so, too,” a disgusted look pulled at your features. “But I didn’t wanna cause any more problems between he and I, you know? I didn’t want to give him more reasons to be pissed at me…”
Bucky nodded.
“But there was no way I was ever going to delete our pictures,” you swore. “So, when he was at work the next day, I transferred every photo and video of you and me onto an external hard drive and took it to my sister’s place for safekeeping.”
Bucky’s heart swelled. You didn’t delete the pictures- you couldn’t. They were just as important to you as they were to him. He, of course, never doubted that you valued his friendship. But knowing that you couldn’t bear to part with the pictures of the two of you made him blush. He almost wished you hadn’t risked Alex’s wrath just to save those pictures. Hadn’t put yourself in such a dangerous position. But you did. And it filled him with an all-encompassing warmth. 
“There was one picture- my favorite picture in the world- that didn’t have a digital copy, though. It only exists as an actual, physical print. So, I couldn’t just put it on the hard drive and call it a day. And I didn’t have it in me to hand it over to my sister. I just- I love it too much.” It was a little embarrassing to admit just how much you needed this polaroid picture. But Bucky didn’t make a judgmental comment or laugh at you. He simply listened, happily awaiting the next part of your story.
“So, I put it in this envelope and taped it to the back of my nightstand so Alex would never find it. And when things with him were really awful- which was all the time- and I just needed an escape… I’d go into our room, lock the door, and just stare at this picture for a while.” You blinked away the tears forming along your lash line and swallowed the lump in your throat. 
Carefully, you opened the envelope and freed the polaroid from its hiding place. Revealing it to another person almost felt like stripping naked. This picture was your everything, your most prized possession. Sharing it felt like exposing the deepest, most secretive part of your soul. 
“It might sound kinda stupid, but this thing saved my life during the last year.”
And finally, you presented Bucky with the photo. He took in a small gasp at the sight of this relic of your friendship. Cautiously, he accepted the polaroid and held it with the utmost care. He hadn’t seen this photo in ages; part of him assumed it was long-lost by now. But you’d had it this whole time, cherishing it every single day. 
“Oh, I love this one…” He carefully drank in each detail of the photo, examining it one piece at a time.
It was a snapshot of a perfect moment, frozen in time. Confetti littered the floor, empty solo cups laid abandoned on the coffee table. And there you stood next to Bucky, with one of his arms wrapped lovingly around your shoulders. You were laughing at something; Bucky couldn’t remember what. But he remembered the feeling it gave him- the feeling of warmth. The feeling of home. His lips were pulled into a wide smile as he beamed down at you, drowning in adoration. Sure, it was slightly out of focus and tad bit blurry. But it perfectly illustrated the way you and Bucky felt about each other. The way you cared for each other. Cherished each other. 
Bucky traced the corners of the photo with his fingers, “I never knew where this thing ended up. I’m so glad you kept it.”
“Yeah…” A hurricane of memories hit you all at once, reminding you of all the times you sought solace in that photo. It gave you the comfort Alex withheld. The strength to carry on. The hope that, one day, you’d see Bucky again. “Me too. I just hate that I had to hide it, you know?”
“Hey, how about we do this…” Bucky took your hand in his and walked you over to the fridge. He freed his hand for a moment, only long enough secure the photo to his fridge with a magnet. His hand found yours once again, and the two of you admired your polaroid’s new home.
“I can go get you a frame for it tomorrow, that way you can display it properly. And you can see it every day. But I thought this would be good for now,” he said. “You don’t have to hide it anymore.”
And for a long while, the two of you just stood there in front of the fridge. No one spoke- no one needed to. Bucky freed his hand from yours and opted instead to wrap his arm around your shoulders, just as he’d done in the photo. 
The weight of this moment would’ve shocked a stranger. To anyone else, a blurry photo on a fridge wouldn’t require this much admiration. This much reverence. But to you, this was everything. Six months ago- even a week ago- you never would’ve thought this was possible. You never would’ve thought you’d be here, in Bucky’s apartment, with your favorite photo proudly displayed for all to see. A familiar stinging sensation warned you of the oncoming tears, but you didn’t make an effort to stop them. 
If a genie offered you one wish, you’d wish to go back in time. You’d want to warn your past-self of the slippery slope of Alex’s manipulation. Of the pain and suffering and heartache he caused. Of the way you lost out on a year with your most cherished friend. But with no genie in sight, you opted to simply live better. Love better. And be honest with people- with Bucky.
“Hey, by the way,” you broke the silence. “I wanted to talk to you about something Alex said to me earlier…” It was a miracle the words even came; you were too nervous to even breath. “I just think I should set the record straight and-”
Bucky held up a hand, silencing you. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to say anything,” Bucky assured you. “I know he’s just an insecure guy who was feeling threatened, or whatever. I’m not gonna hold you to anything he said.”
You took a step back, freeing yourself from Bucky’s embrace. You needed the space, the distance. If you were going to be honest with him, you needed a clear head. And being so close to him was enough to make you drunk.
“That’s not what I was gonna say.” You paced back and forth a little before almost shouting, “I was gonna say that he was right- I am in love with you. And I have been for a long time.”
A loaded silence sucked all of the oxygen out of the room. No one spoke, no one even moved.
Bucky felt his skin burst into flames. He feared his heart might explode. For so long, the only feeling he’d known was sorrow. Grief. Missing you became his constant state of being. But now, here you were. And you were saying things- things he’d always wanted to hear. Part of him wondered if this was some kind of very long, very detailed dream. But no, this was real. You were right there in from of him, baring your soul and confessing your love. 
“That’s…” he took a deep breath, “that’s not at all what I expected you to say.”
The seconds crept by until they became a minute. Two minutes. Three. But Bucky didn’t say anything else. He let his simple response hang in the air without elaboration. And just like that, your hope imploded. Four minutes of quiet past. And just when the fifth grew close, Bucky finally spoke.
“I bet you don’t know the backstory of that picture.”
A quizzical look pulled at your features. Frustrated hardened your voice. “Buck, I just told you that I’m in love with you, this is not the time to talk about backstory.”
Bucky just shook his head, “come on, humor me, doll.” He shrugged, waiting for you to tell him the story.
“Okay, I mean, I was literally there, so I do know the back story,” you huffed. “It was after Sam’s birthday party. Everyone else had left except for us, Sam, and Nat. We were all goofing around at like, three in the morning or something. And Nat took the picture.” You gave him an expectant look, “there you go. Backstory.”
Bucky made a dissatisfied sound but couldn’t fight the shit-eating grin creeping through his serious exterior. “Hmm, not Quite.”
“What? That is the story, what are you-”
“Technically, yes, that is the story,” the conceded. “But it’s not the full story.”
An irritated sigh left your chest, “okay, fine. What’s the ‘full story’?” You’d never been this frustrated with Bucky before. Never felt this much annoyance toward him; you didn’t like it. He was being difficult on purpose, and clearly enjoying it.
“Well, it was after Sam’s birthday party. And it was only the four of us there, like you said. But…” he began, “After Nat took the picture, she dragged you into the kitchen so you two could take shots. And once you were out of earshot, Sam kinda shoved my shoulder.”
“Okay…”
“And he said I just needed to marry you already.”
Your heart stopped.  “I told him- I swore we were just friends,” Bucky laughed at the preposterous lie. “I told him things with us were strictly platonic. And Sam laughed in my face. He said- and this is a direct quote- ‘platonic my ass. You’re in love with her. If you two aren’t together one year from now, I’ll give you five hundred bucks.’”
He paused, trapping you in suspense. 
“And he was right,” Bucky said. “I was in love you- I am in love with you. I always have been.”
Thousands of thoughts crowded your already overwhelmed mind. Words refuse to string themselves together properly. Thoughts collided with each other and turned into messy, jumbled piles. Somewhere within you, a sense of urgency erupted. Something told you to act- act right now. Don’t give Bucky the time to take it back. Don’t give him the opportunity to say, “never mind”. 
But what were you supposed to say to that? It wasn’t what you’d expected- you hadn’t even let yourself hope for something like this. And now that your ideal scenario was playing out of front of you, you were completely and utterly unprepared.
A few clunky sounds fell out of your mouth; they didn’t even resemble an actual word. You thought it was maybe a combination of “wow” and “cool”- mixed with a healthy dose of unintelligible mumbling. It wasn’t like the smooth, well-crafted delivery that Bucky displayed. Your cheeks burned with humiliation as Bucky stared at you, awaiting your response. 
Everything in you wished you were cooler. Smoother. Less embarrassing. On rare occasions, you let yourself imagine what this moment might be like. And in your head, you always handled it with poise. With grace. In your daydreams, there wasn’t any awkward mumbling or charged silence. Instead, you and Bucky would fall together seamlessly after confessing your love in perfect, poetic sonnets.
This was not that. 
But this was better. Because it was real. Because the Bucky Barnes was standing in front of you, telling you that he loved you. 
Finally, you found your words. 
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear.” 
Bucky’s chest deflated with a deep sigh of relief. Because even though you’d professed your love for him only moments ago, your long silence forced his anxiety into overdrive. What if you were just making a weird joke? What if he’d taken it too seriously? 
But the way you wrapped your body around his confirmed that, yes, you did mean it. You did love him. 
“And hey,” Bucky wriggled free of your arms and took your face in his hands. He needed to make direct eye contact, needed you to know he was serious. “I know what you- I know some of what you went through over the last year. I know you have a lot to process. So, there’s no rush.”
And while it was sweet and thoughtful and kind of Bucky to say such a thing, you weren’t sure if it was true. Because there was a rush, wasn’t there? There was a time limit. A ticking clock. You couldn’t make him table his feelings for you even longer. Couldn’t make him wait. And if you did tell him to press pause, weren’t his feelings going to expire? Weren’t they going to run out? You needed to capitalize on his affections for you now before it was too late. 
But before you could lie through your teeth and tell Bucky you didn’t need to wait, he spoke.
“If you ever want to pursue things with me, I’ll be here,” he promised. “My feelings for you aren’t going anywhere. I’ve waited years for this, I can wait as long as you need.”
But that was just it. He’d waited years- making him wait any longer would be cruel, wouldn’t it? Wouldn’t it be unfair, especially now that he’d rescued you from your volatile relationship? 
It wasn’t that you wanted to delay a romantic relationship with Bucky. No, you wanted it now. The only issue was the heavy toll your ex took on you. You were littered with emotional wounds that were barely beginning to heal. Your anxiety was at an all-time high. And your trust issues reared their ugly heads. This wasn’t the version of you that Bucky deserved. He didn’t deserve the broken-down, mentally unwell shell of a woman that stood before him. And you owed it to yourself to rebuild.
The long silence brought on by your introspection set Bucky on edge. Maybe he really did misread the situation. Maybe you loved him but didn’t want to actually be with him. Maybe he overstepped. 
“And if you never want to pursue anything romantic with me, I’ll understand,” he said. “There won’t be any hard feelings. I’ll always be here for you, whether it’s as a friend or-”
“Shut up.”
Your lips melted against his. Your fingers weaved into his hair and pulled him close. His hands gripped you at the waist and pulled you flush against his body. Everything quieted. the noise from the city, your residual anxiety- it all faded. All that remained was Bucky. His hands, his lips, his stubble scratching against your skin. 
It was odd, getting everything you’d ever wanted. Never did you think this was possible- you didn’t even consider it. You resigned yourself to a life of unhappiness and heartache and longing. You assumed you’d die without ever truly knowing what true love felt like. But you felt it now; it felt like Bucky. 
No part of you wanted to pull away, but you had to. You had to set the record straight. Suddenly, your lips vanished from Bucky’s. He instantly frowned. 
“You didn’t seriously think that I was gonna tell you I’m in love with you and then not pursue a relationship with you, did you?” You threw a dramatic scoff his way, “Are you crazy?” 
“Hey, I don’t know!” Bucky laughed. “I guess what I meant is… I understand. And I just wanted you to know that there’s no pressure. I don’t ever want you to be uncomfortable.”
Once again, your lips found Bucky’s. This was his preferred way of existing now. Any moment spent without your lips on his seemed like a waste.
“I just need some time,” you said, breaking the kiss again. “I promise it won’t be long- I swear. I want to be with you more than anything. I just have some stuff to work through first.”
Bucky ran a hand over your hair. Your shoulder. Your forearm. Finally, he laced his fingers with yours like he had a million times before. But it felt different now. More permanent.
“Of course, sweetheart. You take as long as you need. I’m not worried about the time.”
An exaggerated grimace pulled at your features, and a joking air spilled into your speech. “Oh, good. Cause if I’m remembering correctly, Sam’s birthday party was September twenty-fourth of last year. And today is September twenty-ninth. So, I made you miss the one-year mark by five days, which means he’s not gonna pay up.”
Bucky’s laugh boomed through the small apartment. It bounced off every all, surrounding you with your favorite sound. 
“You know, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Bucky finally said when he caught his breath. “But I’m not worried about it.” His bright smile and joking tone fell away, stripping his words bare. He grew gravely serious. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he said. The authenticity almost scared you. “I’m so happy to have you back where you belong.”
He enveloped you in a long, deep kiss that stole your breath. Only two days ago, you were a rain-soaked, broken-hearted mess. The world was bleak. Cold. Empty. You swore you didn’t see the sun the entire time you were with Alex. But now, the warmth of Bucky’s kindness and warmth perfused everything with bright, vibrant colors. The storm clouds finally parted, revealing the most beautiful, golden daylight. 
And after everything, Bucky was finally yours. 
But he always was. 
Everything you’d been through, all the pain and suffering and misery, brought you to this moment. And you couldn’t think of anything that could ever pull your attention from the way Bucky’s lips felt against hers. 
But something stole your focus.
A strange sound came from your phone- you swore it sound like a ‘cha-ching’. The two of you parted for a moment, allowing you to investigate. 
“Was that- I think that was a Venmo notification…” you said. “But I didn’t-” You pulled your phone from your back pocket and glanced at your screen, only to find the one name you never wanted to see again. Alongside that name, though, was a number- a large number.
“Alex just sent me three thousand dollars.” You narrowed your eyes at Bucky, “Did you do this?”
Bucky’s head fell back in a devious, almost maniacal laugh. “Baby, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
-------------------------------------------
@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @onewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl @purpleshallot @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat
(I don't know what the fuck is going on with my tags, they dont work apparently)
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bouquetface · 2 months
Text
ASTRO OBSERVATIONS 2
ENTIRE chart will influence accuracy.
Mars Square Neptune.
- Floating - these people tend to easily disconnect from the real world.
- Needing music to workout. Tend to hate silence. Need background music or noise.
- Will encounter disappointing men. Father may be unreliable. Father may not be the provider and/or protector. Father doesn’t fit the traditional father role. For my friend w this aspect, this experience created disgust for “weak men”.
Accuracy for you heavily depends on house & sign.
Mars Trine Neptune.
- Often have an artistic hobby - drawing, painting, playing an instrument, etc.
- Often end up developing a physical hobby that brings them peace of mind - gym, yoga, meditation, etc.
- Dislike for conflict. Not likely to fight - verbally or physically. Avoidant behaviours.
Accuracy heavily depends on house & sign.
Saturn Aspects Uranus.
- Sudden change in relationship w authority. Ex: Following rules when young but rebelling against parents when older. Rebelling against what’s expected when older.
- Preferring and/or creating unconventional ways to do things.
- Good teachers. Simplifying complicated things to be easily understood. Creating new effective ways to be productive.
- Conflicted between desire for recognition from authority and desire for freedom.
Accuracy heavily depends on house & sign.
Mars Aspects MC.
- You or others are competitive in the workplace. You can desire leadership positions. You want to be recognized as the best. Or you simply dislike working with others. Prefer independent work.
- May become known for your body (in a good or bad way). People can assume you are physically active. You likely become physically fit. If you are a woman, you can have a reputation for being a “bitch”. You could be assertive and it’s seen as aggressive. You could prioritize your goals, you’re seen as selfish.
- Often I see these people irl have a bad reputation. IRL EX: People see them as assholes. People discuss their sex lives. People label them as sluts. People assume they have eating disorders. It’s just so weird how every single person ik with this aspect has random & untrue rumours spread about them.
- Entrepreneur indicator. However, not a strong one. Would need to check entire chart.
- Career may involve physical activity. Ex: Walking around a lot, physiotherapy, gym teacher, cleaning, etc.
- Conflict between authority figures like parents. A Parent encourages you to be ambitious. A parent pushes you toward choosing a career or finding a job early on.
- Parents who are forced to prioritize work over children due to financial struggle of the family.
- One strong parent. A single parent or one parent takes on most of the burden.
Accuracy heavily depends on house & sign.
Mercury Aspects Ascendant.
- Good texters. Funny and can keep a conversation going.
- Observant. This can make them anxious and/or very talkative.
- Enjoy nicknames, clever slogans and phrases. The kind of person to say things like “whatever floats your boat” “break a leg” “time to hit the sack”
- Fast talkers. Probably been told they talk too much. Using hand gestures to talk. Moving the body a lot when talking. Fast thinking.
- Difficult to relax. Unintentionally blurting things out. Feeling like you misrepresent yourself.
- Indicator of a popular person. Well connected. Could be a good salesman. Funny people.
Accuracy heavily depends on houses and signs.
Neptune Aspects Ascendant.
- People believe they can read you like an open book.
- Wandering vibe. You look lost. You feel lost. You could enjoy feeling directionless or you wish someone would show you the way.
- Expecting or wishing something would happen to help you. Wishing or expecting someone to help you. Feeling like you’re waiting for your dreams to come true.
- Escapism. Fantasy world in your mind. Wishing to live in a different reality.
- Longing and yearning for people, places and things. Feeling like you’re missing something.
- Prone to giving up. Prefer to give up and go with the flow. Dislike for standing up for yourself. Being assertive is difficult. Letting your presence be known is difficult.
- Feeling like you don’t really belong here.
- Tend to live in their own world. They can be unaware of how things they do or say are perceived. Something they randomly say or do without bad intent can be seen as disrespectful or hateful. They may not even realize it until randomly reflecting on it years later. People can have one sided feuds with them for YEARS. it’s almost funny.
Accuracy heavily depends on houses and signs.
Venus Aspect Uranus
- Relationships begin and end suddenly. ghosting and getting ghosted at some point is extremely likely. Experiencing sudden attraction. Getting close very quickly in relationships (romantic, platonic & business)
- Can experience distance in relationships. Could literally be a long distance relationship or emotional distance.
- Possible problem you could encounter: Partners or you can be awkward when expressing love. Lack of physical affection, lack of sincerity, not very romantic. Mostly jokes to avoid serious conversations.
- On the bright side you will have strong initial attraction. Get close fast. Partners can feel like best friends. Likely to be funny and openminded. Partners have unique viewpoints.
- More comfortable expressing oneself over text than in person. All my friends w this have tried dating apps.
- Later in life they develop unique perspectives on love. This is because they end up having non traditional relationships. Ex: poly, long distance relationship, blended families, interracial couples, couple from diff religions or countries, etc.
Accuracy heavily influenced by houses and signs.
MC Aspect Sun
- Desire recognition and praise. May secretly or openly want to make a parent proud. May secretly want to prove themselves to people through career success.
- Desire leadership positions. Secretly can desire fame. They want to be respected and known in their field.
- If negatively placed, it can manifest as being a sore loser. Being envious when others are praised or succeed.
- In squares and oppositions, people can be willing to bend their morals for fame/recognition and success.
- Career can become a big part of your identity. Entrepreneurship indicator.
- Fear of being gossiped about. Fear of people perceiving you in a negative light. People’s opinions matter deeply.
Accuracy heavily influenced by houses and signs.
MC Aspects Pluto
- Desire positions of authority. Desire power over others.
- Later in life, career transforms. Ex: Changing fields, Going to get a higher education later in life, etc. And this is an entrepreneurship indicator.
- Feeling pressure to be successful. Needing to prove yourself to others. May have parents or family members who didn’t support your dreams. Or family with high expectations.
- Hard aspects can end up sacrificing family & relationships for career in some kind of way. Extreme example: Having kids late to advance career. Working long hours or travelling for work. This may not allow you to be with kids or partner that much.
- Be wary these people often end up with a tarnished reputation. They can need to become like a phoenix (rising from the ashes).
- Big indicator of attracting public scrutiny.
Accuracy heavily influenced by houses and sign.
Saturn Aspect Ascendant
- Reserved presence. Observant. Patient & polite. Old soul indicator. Mature. Good mentors/teacher. Indicator of becoming a person in an authoritative position. You may not realize it but people can grow to respect & admire you. Your words have influence on others.
- Good planners. They create long term plans. Good at manifesting. Good at going after what they want. Tough start in life but always get what they want later in life.
- Have a lot of responsibility. Independent person. Difficult asking for & accepting help. Older sibling vibe. Being the forgotten child. Being the child who compromises for their siblings. Attempting to create less burden for your parents.
- Deeply value the opinion of authority (Parents, teachers, etc).
- Tough on themselves. Feel they need to work harder. Feeling the need to earn things. Feeling you haven’t done enough. Feeling you aren’t enough.
- Strong boundaries. You may have high standards and strict “rules” for people in your life especially romantic partners. Will not just accept anybody.
- And one thing I’ve noticed is whether it be saturn trine asc or saturn square asc, these people end up in positions where their partners have to “earn” them. Ex: making yourself difficult to schedule dates with. Making their potential partner prove interest and intent in some kind of way. Partners have to chase you to an extent.
- Also, I’ve seen this as dad disapproving of partner. Partner had to gradually work to bond with the dad. Ex: Helping him at the house, Initiating conversation with him every visit, Telling the dad his future plans and how they involve his daughter, etc. Saturn Asc people’s partners really WORK to prove themselves.
Accuracy heavily influenced by houses and signs.
Mars Aspect Jupiter
- Strong sense of faith. Strong sense of optimism. Strong sense of doing the right thing. Could manifest as being self righteous.
- Jupiter strengthens mars. This creates a strong drive, need for passion and action.
- Ex: Let’s say mars is in scorpio: You will truly never forget people from the past. Strong memory. Grudge holder for sure.
- If in a fire sign, very quick to anger. On the bright side, very funny. Quick thinking. But similar to Scorpio mars, will not forgive easily. An abundance of anger.
- Independent. Ability to lead. Could be a good leader or mentor.
Accuracy heavily influenced houses and sign.
Mercury Aspects Mars
- Fast thinking. This can make them charming. Or opposite effect: Fast speaking. Blurting things out without thinking. Misunderstood.
- They’d make good rappers or a good lawyer. Persuasive. Clever in speech.
- Communication has a strong effect on others. Deeply hurt others.
- Flirty without even trying.
- Might be too clever or too quick for most. Leaving people speechless.
- Fights with siblings. Issues with siblings. May grow to feel bad about how you treated them back in the day. May forever have a rivalry.
- Men may feel competitive with other men. Need to one up others. Competitive person.
- Honest and straightforward. However, if they want to lie, they’re VERY good at it.
- May have scars. Important to check the house you have gemini in. For ex: Lets say you have gemini 2nd house & mercury conjunct mars, you could have scars on the face. Prone to acne.
- Ex.2: Ik a gemini rising with mercury conjunct mars who had plastic surgery done. Mercury rules their body. Mars is “cutting”.
Accuracy heavily influenced by houses and signs.
Sun Aspects Neptune.
- Mysterious. People can’t figure you out 100%. You don’t fit into one specific label or box. Private person especially if you have scorpio placements.
- You don’t try to be a mystery. You are naturally withdrawn. Quiet but not shy person.
- Difficulty expressing oneself. Looking for escape to cope. Driving around aimlessly. Focusing on education and career over personal matters. Or depending on entire chart, substance abuse issues.
- A father who can’t stand up for himself. A father who is taken advantage of by other families members. A father who looks for escape.
Accuracy influenced by house and sign.
Sun Aspects Jupiter.
- Confident person. Many creative outlets. Optimistic outlook.
- Expressive person. Ex: Laughs loud, hand gestures, facial expression, lots of body movement, physically tall or large.
- Father could fit the above description. Father could lecture a lot. Father may be a generally happy person. Father could be a gambler. Father has the tendency to overdo things. Father could either be selfish or very generous.
- Good humour. Usually a kind and easygoing person. Adventurous spirit.
- Can get preachy about their beliefs. Stubborn on their beliefs. Conversations can become one sided - one person talking too much without realizing the others haven’t gotten a chance to speak.
- They want to share knowledge. Help others - humans and animals.
Accuracy influenced by house and signs.
Moon Aspects Venus.
- Feminine & seemingly flirtatious habits. (Twirling/playing with your hair, swaying body movements, etc). It is all naturally not intentionally done. Others, may perceive it as trying to be flirty though.
- Cooperate person. Moms can be very peace loving. Mom who sacrifices in attempt to keep the peace.
- In men, this can result in seeing women through the Madonna whore complex. Men can idealize women - lack of understanding & experience with real women.
- Taking pleasure in nurturing people. Potential to be a good baker & cook.
- Artistic eye. Home design and clothing. However, depending on signs, may prefer comfort over fashion.
- Expensive taste. Potential to overspend and be indulgent. Be cautious of ending up in debt. Sweet tooth.
- You or the mother may have a baby face. Soft and often clear skin. Especially you if your rising is in connection to moon or venus. If in connection to mars, acne & scars likely. But either way, youthful appearance.
- Happier in relationships. Feeling the need to always be in a relationship. However, depending on the signs, can be moody. Inconsistent in what you desire. Inconsistent in likes and dislikes.
Accuracy influenced by entire natal chart.
Sun Aspects Saturn.
- Restricted in self expression. May fear other’s opinions. May fear criticism. Dislike of teasing/roasting. Dislike of comedy in general.
- Being hard on yourself for mistakes. Being fussy about how you look and behave. Self conscious.
- Late bloomers. Become authority figures later in life. Desire respect over all else. Grandparent energy.
- Patient. Good planners. Hardworking.
Accuracy influenced by houses and signs.
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pomefioredove · 2 months
Note
hello hello! i see that the headcanon requests are open, so i have arrived 🐺🐺 i'd like to request the housewardens + chenya, neige and ortho with a reader that's mute! i feel like this would be an interesting thing to go off of. feel free to write it as something reader gained after a certain event, or as an illness that they were born with. platonic would be great, but i think romantic would be absolutely adorable too (minus ortho obviously) so go wild, do whatever you want >:) if this is fine for you to write of course!! love your writing, youre my favourite blog on tumblr hehe (runs away)
thank you so much!! and ofc ofc. I'm writing this based off my own experiences with being semiverbal so if I get something wrong,,, that's on me 😔
summary: nonspeaking reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, che'nya, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, ortho (platonic), malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu
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I think Riddle is more adaptive than others give him credit for
it's not like there's any rule about not speaking
(and if there was, he would make an exception for you. he's not completely unreasonable)
I can see him learning sign language with you
and if that's not your thing, he'll figure something else out
he's a fast learner, after all
and he wants to make you comfortable, too. not that he'd ever outright admit it...
(obvious favoritism)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Che'nya is always quick on his feet
or... on air?
anyway
that means that he isn't one to let the absence of conversation stop him from his usual mischief
and he does love charades...
it's almost like he can read your thoughts. or your... hands? expressions?
whenever someone is giving you a hard time, they miiight just end up talking back to a floating head
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Leona actually never really... brings it up
before he had the full story, he just figured you were shy around him
(which went straight to his head, of course)
so he was already used to it when he found out it's not something you can control
and... he treats you no different for it
he knows you're not stupid or rude just because you're not yapping all the time
and if anyone else gave you a hard time about it... they'd be answering to him
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
no worries with Azul
I mean, the guy can really do it all
sign language, pen and paper, text-to-speech, body language...
he's rather adaptable, and, trust me, being unable or unwilling to speak won't stop him
the offer to give you the voice of a beautiful singer is still on the table... but he can't blame you for not taking the deal
of course
in the meantime, you can come to him for anything and he'll help you out
on the house <3
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kalim's heart is in the right place
is he disappointed you won't be able to talk and sing and cheer with him? a little
you're used to the disappointment, unfortunately
but he doesn't give up so easily
or... at all
no singing? he's handing you an instrument
no talking? no problem, he knows you're still listening!
no hummin, shouting, cheering? he can make enough noise for the both of you
he makes sure you're included in everything
very sweet
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil has high expectations, but he isn't unreasonable
if you can't talk, you can't talk, and that's final
that doesn't excuse you from everything else in his strict regimen, though
what may be a weakness to others is a strength to him
you can improve yourself tenfold by focusing on what you can do rather than what you can't
writing, dancing, music...
however you choose to express yourself, he's very supportive
much like Kalim, he includes you in every conversation, every decision, every yes/no question
he's pretty great
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Neige! Neige is a sweetie
I like to think of Neige as someone who's actually quite timid in person, despite his career
it's probably your quietness that draws him to you in the first place
he is so very supportive
he's the kind of introvert to suddenly become extroverted when someone needs help
"excuse me, they asked for no pickles" type of guy
he'll hold your hand through everything if you need it, and remain by your side if you don't
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Ortho and Idia are probably the best people to have on your side
Idia just feels so much more... comfortable around you, since he struggles with speaking, himself
he'll let you use his tablet if you need it to speak
...and then he'll get you one of your own, so he doesn't have a heart attack when you accidentally switch tabs
he'll even program a custom voice or two for you
Ortho is a walking translator for you
with a database full of information on body language and expression, he can determine your emotional state in a single glance
he's happy to help in any way he can, of course!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
at some point, Malleus needs a shirt that says "#1 Prefect Defender"
you haven't said a single word to him but if anything happened to you he would curse everyone in this room and then himself
(he means well, I promise)
he's never minded, nor questioned your silence
certain fae communicate through lights or movement rather than sound, so it isn't even anything strange to him
you fit right in at Diasomnia
and you're welcome to stay here for as long as you please
(hint hint)
631 notes · View notes
kujiba · 3 months
Text
¡MAY THE LAND CONCEAL YOU, DEAR GRACE!
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୨୧ — ꒰ gn!reader | they/them prounouns | Sagau | cultish behavior
A/n: I made this while drunk /jk
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3
PART 5
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Were you high? Possibly.
Did you feel like you were floating? 50/50
You stared directly at the glowing screen plastered infront of you, with your eyes full of focus.
CHOOSE YOUR ELEMENT: ELECTRO, HYDRO, PYRO, DENDRO, ANEMO, GEO, CRYO
'Ah.. This will be hard' You thought to yourself while nodding and looking away from it. Gazing your eyes back on the screen you either were highly delusional right now or...
You had been gifted the ultimate weapon! A system!
You're not a dumbass you've seen those novels, tv's, Mangas, animes, manwha, all that kind of stuff! So you had some bits and pieces on how to roll with this new kind of power.
Back to the main problem... Which element should you pick? Every element in the game is highly valuable and could be used with many different ways. The question is what would benefit you more in the situation you've been put upon.
Currently you had been locked in a cell by whoever knocked you unconscious, but your suspicion leaned more in the knights of favonius. You shaked your head telling yourself to deal with the problems one by one.
"Damn.. Which do I choose" You clenched your lips together tightly and scratched your chin with your own finger. Being indecisive and having a bit of a problem to choose from the choices given to you by the system.
You knew you had to pull your ultimate move.
"Innie, Minnie, Miny, moe..." You mumbled while your finger hopped it's way to each element on the screen "Catch a tiger by its toe if it hollows let it Go, Innie, Minnie Miny, moe." Your finger slowed down by the second and finally took a halt when the song ended.
You looked at the element carefully too see what the fate has given you!
"DENDRO"
YAHOO!!
Your excitement honestly didn't come from the element you choose but the thought you could have your own powers and vision!!
"Gimme DENDRO!" You declared to the system with a prideful voice, A systematic noise rang through your ears in a unpleasant way, soon after the noise came to a halt, a small glowing jeweled amulet began to descend from the air.
"Holy..!" You stared in awe as the jewel gently dropped to your hands. A familiar glowing green vision with it's outer areas decorated uniquely in a high quality silver material.
Quickly enough the system box appeared in front of you yet again.
"CONGRATULATIONS, LEVEL UP TO UNLOCK MORE SKILLS, POWER, AND ITEMS"
The system then showed a long box filled with words and numbers that you immediately understood from your long gaming experience.
[NAME]
Lvl 1 / 20
Max HP: 929
ATK: 34
DEF: 21
Elemental Mastery: 0
Max stamina: 240
Crit rate: 5%
Crit DMG: 50%
Energy Recharge: 300%
"..."
GODDAMN! Why was your energy Recharge so high?... Actually no- that isn't a bad thing, it'll be good for you to just keep spamming your burst till the enemy drops dead.
Your thoughts were interrupted when a pair of footsteps made their way too where you currently are, you quickly hid the vision behind your back, afraid they might try and take it from you if they ever found out about it.
A familiar blonde and brunette made their way in front of your cell, you gripped your vision tighter remembering clear as day what had happened, your suspicions not even faltering for a second.
"(Name)." Jean called out, she placed her hand on her chest while looking at you calmly. Amber was by her side looking at your every movement, Jean continued "Were not here to hurt you. It's the opposite really" Jean's eyes looked soft and humble...
But that doesn't excuse them for knocking you out so harshly.
You deathly wanted to talk back to her but kept your mouth shut, only biting your lip harder so that nothing would come out and spill something important.
"Please, don't be wary of us.. We're your friends" Okay now she was spouting bs. Sure you've met amber for ONLY a bit but Jean was still technically a stranger to you!
You sighed to yourself "How long are you going to keep me in here?" you asked with a tad bit of impatience, you leaned your head back on the solid wall while narrowing down your eyes at them.
Amber responded to your question "Its..it's for your own good (Name), please trust us. We're keeping you safe" Amber's tone was yet determined but also worried. Jean placed her hand on Amber's shoulder and nodded.
"We'll explain to you everything later" Jean was about to say something till you cut her off "Why not now?" You asked tilting your head to the side.
Jean looked at you then down at the ground "There.. Are still some important things we had to arrange. But even so don't try to escape, this is for your own good (Name)"
"Ha? What do you-- AND... they left" You grumbled seeing them leave you all alone in here again.
"Hey system." You called out to it while playing around with your vision. The system appeared again by your side "What is it?"
A Google translator like voice came out of the box, you had this thought for a while now. "Will something happen to me when I escape this place?" You questioned it.
It took a while but the Ai voice returned "Judging from my information I have gathered. You are currently a 'GOD'."
Ha?
"What!? What do you mean, God!?" You exclaimed in a panicked voice. You? A God?
You were snapped out of your frenzy when you heared it's voice again "There is currently a popular and confirmed tale plus ballad that you are the creator of Teyvat. People began worshipping you after you had abruptly dissapered without any warning, so they prayed and worshipped, hoping to bring you back"
You were even more bewildered but also... Understanding? I guess? I mean you are the player who basically built everything in the game. But isn't also Cai Hauyo (Mihoyo) basically the creator of what had been created? You'll dive deeper into that later.
"So.. They're all after me now?" Your tone had a clear hint of worry. You didn't want to be on the run and just wanted a normal life! The system replied saying "Not quite yet. I belive only the knights of favonius must've known. But Im sure it won't be long till the whole mondstadt or even Teyvat will find out about your presence"
You grimaced at the thought of being hunted down by multiple people, especially if those beloved people that you used to grind hours on end for!
You shaked your head in disapproval "Yet I can't really stay here either can I, it seriously sucks" you stretched your legs out on the cold cement flooring, the exterior of the room you had been trapped in was definitely not suited to live in.
"Why are you eager to escape?" The system sought to find the answer, you gave it a long frown "First of all, I am not going to be trapped here for the rest of my life! I'll die of boredom before anybody could even reach me" The system responded with only small glitching noises, it seemed like it was trying to process the outcome of your actions.
You took that as a cue to continue your rant "Secondly, I'm not really trusting the Knight's of Favonius yet nor anybody in general here. When you said I'm a supposed 'God' that's already trouble going to bite me in the ass" You breathed heavily to catch your breath, letting that all out of your chest felt pretty good to be honest.
"I know they're up to something"
!?!?
Jean stared down at the stack of papers and files scattered around her desk. She took a deep breath and began to tidy things up around the office, a vivid memory flashed through her mind, a memory that wasn't that long ago.
Amber had gone out to continue her Outrider duties leaving Jean to take care of their business for the time being. Her lips trembled ever so slightly like a leaf being blown by the wind, so she quickly bit her lip with her eyes full of worry and dread.
A god was in a cell. A cell she placed them in. Or.. So she was assuming
Back then, Barbatos and the creator had a small fondness of each other. Tales and Ballads would often say they were friends, even with the gap between their ranks and powers, the creator treated everyone fairly no matter what rank. They adored their creations and thus, the creations adored them back.
If only they hadn't left so soon that Teyvat began to slowly crumble, leaving a nation to fall down, a nation to lock itself away from the rest of the world, a nation having their own Archon sacrifice themselves for their people.
If only...
Jean had her doubts. It wasn't the first time that a supposed 'Creator' stepped up only for them to experience demise and pain for their foolish actions.
The creator didn't have a confirmed face or appearance since they often changed what they look like, the creator did had 'Aura'.. That was only visible to vision holders. But of course, the humankind has evolved and people began to come up with a 'Fake Aura' that was the exact replica of the creator's.
Her feet paced back and forth through the room, deciding on what to do with the supposed 'God' that was locked away in a cell.... Should she eliminate them now? False identity was a crime. And when it comes to the creator, no one is spared nor given mercy.
"...Their too suspicious, Why only now did they appear? They must've been like the others." She whispered to herself, her thoughts running wild about them.
A 50/50.
They were either the actual creator
Or they are a fake.
And Jean's choice began to tilt towards the one most logical.
"Tomorrow. We will arrange a public execution"
!!!
"GAHHH!! AGHHH" You desperately tried to concentrate on your mind to activate your vision powers "What the heck how does this work!?" You gripped the amulet tighter with your left eye twitching violently. Your annoyance only filled more as the messages of the system flooded in your face.
"Try concentrating more calmly. What are you doing? Taking a shit?" The system taunted you while also sending some emojis.
"I'm trying okay!? How do you..." You trailed your words off, having a random flashback of when you still were at earth for some reason.
"Hey how are you always so calm?" You asked your friend filled with curiosity, they looked up at your eyes. Seeing your curiosity they hummed "Well I mostly think about my happy memories and things that I like. It's like day dreaming you know?" They answered your thoughts calmly.
"What?? You sound like one of those cliché characters in shows lol."
You blankly stared at the wall after the flashback had ended. Your head turned to the system "That was your doing ain't it?" You deadpanned seeing that the system had completely ignored you and instead sent whistling emojis.
You groaned finally giving in since you had no other ideas anyway. "Agh... Fine, worth a shot" You grumbled giving in to the cliché idea.
You relaxed down your body as your shoulders began to lower along with your guard, you cleared your head, thinking nothing but a blank space for some moments. When you felt ready you had began to imagine all the joyful things that you deeply favored for the past years. All of that gathered into one moment inside your brain.
The vision glowed brightly in your hands, it's viridescent color taking up the whole dimly lit room, even the system kept quiet with the messages so that you could concentrate better on finally unlocking some skills.
And just that, in a short while the vision began to lose its light.
Fluttering your eyes open you took a look around your body to see any changes, to your dissapointment there wasn't any difference. "Did it work?" You wanted to know if you were finally able to throw plants or something.
Suddenly, you slightly jumped seeing confetti pop out of nowhere. The systems screen had massive words placed for you to see.
"CONGRATULATIONS ON UNLOCKING YOUR VISION !!
Reward:
+50,000 Mora
+Cake For The Player
+Personal Companion"
'Personal Companion?'
You were curious to see what it was but for now, you had to focus on breaking out of this hell hole. "System! So like uh, what can I do for now?" You rubbed the back of your head still pretty much a newbie to all this powers stuff.
"Throw out your companion. Call out it's name, 'Taube' and break the damn wall to escape"
"Taube?..." You mumbled it's name unsure at first but your doubts had quickly vanished as your eyes landed on a... Dove?
The Dove (Taube) was pure as a snow, it's wings flapping in the air gently with the inner layer of its feathers being a stunning (Color). Other than that, it looked like a pretty beautiful dove soaring in the sky.
"Wait so, what can it do?" You tilted your head at it questionably. "Make Taube attack the wall so you can see" The system answered your calling, you silently nodded your head at the systems words.
If the Dove was basically part of your power, then it could basically read through your mind! then.... 'Taube, I choose you!!'
Like a smooth cut of a knife, Taube had sliced through the wall with their wing, leading to the fresh and flourishing outside.
You were lying if you didn't say you were impressed and amazed by how easily Taube destroyed the wall. A wide smile appeared on your face as you didn't waste a single moment and ran out to the outside and away from that wretched room.
The air was clean and felt good as you inhaled as much as you can, the sweet scent of dandelions being all over the land was just a touch of freedom. The wind blew over your clothes and hair, wrinkling and messing it all up slightly.
"Man..." You muttered while straightening and fixing yourself up to look a slight bit more presentable. You looked around seeing Taube flying over to your vision, confusion hitted you but shock struck you harder for some quick seconds.
Your eyes widened, watching how Taubes body began to get absorbed by the vision, you panicked alot thinking your powerful animal companion is going to dissperse and never appear again but you quickly remembered that Taube is originally made from your vision anyway.
So you could summon them anytime! :D
A sigh of relief escaped through your lips, your eyes lingered on the body of Taube one last time, in impulse you softly stroked it's head before it faded away from your line of view.
Brushing those thoughts aside, you took a look around the vast land of Mondstadt. You weren't used to seeing how clean and green it was compared to earth where everything is in the brink of collapsing.
BUT! that wasnt your problem right now.
You didn't think twice to bolt your ass out of there and find a new hiding place, A cave? A abandoned house? Anything is fine! cause your gut kept telling you something bad will happen if you stay too long in there!
Wow. Who knew that you would be escaping from there when just a few chapters ago you were fangirling about living in mondstat?
Anyways...
'FREEDOM!!'
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A/n: Short but active hehe
This is what the Dove kinda looks like btw, you could leave it to your imagination v
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398 notes · View notes
forcemeanakin · 1 year
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Hot with brains
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•WARNINGS: SMUT.  Fingering (f receiving), oral fixation, dirty talk, praise kink and also degrading kink, corruption kink kinda??? Edging. Public space. The OC has a kink that attracts her to smart guys.
Pairing: ROTS!Anakin Skywalker x Female!reader.
Summary: Anakin falls for the librarian at the Jedi Temple, however, he soon realizes his adorable smile and golden curls won’t cut it with this one. No, she likes something different: brains. 
Word count: 4.7K. 
A/N: Pretty self-indulgent piece. I've been obsessed with Anakin's engineering brain ever since I got into Star Wars and this idea had be floating around for a whileeeee. Hope you all enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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You liked smart guys. 
It wasn’t a kink per sé. You just couldn’t see yourself hooking up with someone with no brains, let alone establishing a committed relationship with them. You were swoon by guys with deep thoughts and admirable speech skills. The type of man that would go for a whisky instead of a beer, or use real shoes instead of plain sneakers.
You being a snob might have to do with your upbringing, after all you were the daughter of two scholars and professors of one of the most prestigious universities of Coruscant. You were raised to be logical and love intellectual conversations. You wouldn’t- No. You couldn’t see yourself enjoying a space with someone with a low IQ.
That was the reasoning behind taking the internship in the Jedi Temple’s library as part of your college voluntary program. You had to volunteer a certain amount of hours in order to graduate from your Journalism degree with honors. 
You thought that even though this wasn’t exactly the area in which you were specializing, you would soak up some of the ancient knowledge of the Order, even make some great connections for the future. And so far it has been just that: A great experience. You got to read some really cool books and in the hours where no one would come, you got to finish some school work. The Jedi who would visit the library were nice and kind, always polite with a big smile. You even grew really fond of a young Togruta padawan that would spend her breaks in between training devouring books. 
It was calm and quiet. 
Until the storm broke through the door.
“Is this the one you’re looking for?” You yelled to Ahsoka as you climbed down the stairs with the title she asked for.
“Yes! Thank you, y/n!” She gave you a hug and ran to her table to start reading about the swamps in Dagobah.
You returned to your desk and kept registering the book’s codes into the control sheet when a loud sound made you look to the door, the one that was violently being thrown to open room for a tall, curly-haired man with dark robes.
You would recognize those robes anywhere. In reality, anyone from any point of the galaxy would recognize them.
Anakin Skywalker. 
One of the few exceptions of Jedi men who didn’t live up to the sophisticated standard of the Order’s image. And definitely someone you would prefer to stay away from. For some reason he was the favorite warrior of the people; the citizens would line up in front of the Temple to scream “Hero with no fear” to that pretentious douchebag.
He was fine. 
As what most people would call courageous, you would say careless. To others he was passionate, to you he was irrational. Not to mention how idiotic and unsubordinated he was; always talking back and doing things his way, ignoring what the guidelines said.
You didn’t like him. You didn’t like him at all. For that you were thankful that he never set foot into your sacred place. Until that doomed day.
“C’mon, Snips.” He shouted, approaching the desk where she sat. “We need to go. Council just called.”
“Can I have five more minutes? I’ve barely read anything about where we are going!” Ahsoka whined.
“You don’t need to read anything, we will find out anything that’s necessary there.” He huffed, finding his apprentice’s actions ridiculous. 
You quietly sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course.
“Fine… but y/n really took her time fetching it for me.” She exhaled annoyed and closed the book. 
Your eyes remained glued to your task at hand, not willing to look up and be involved in some type of pending argument.
“Who’s y/n?” Anakin scoffed rather loudly.
“Y/n! The volunteer?” Anakin frowned at the short explanation and shook his head in a negative motion. “You know, y/n! C’mon Skyguy, follow me.”
No, please no, you whispered to your insides.
“Hey, y/n!” You heard Ahsoka’s little footsteps running to where you were. 
“What can I do for you, Soka?” You answered, still pretending that you were too busy to move your head from its position.
“Skyguy hasn’t met you. Here, Anakin, y/n. She helps us out here in the library.”
“Ahsoka, we’re not supposed to be having social meetings, we need to go-” You finally gazed up and in that moment, Anakin and you made eye contact for the first time; it was intense. It felt like something clicked for him. “You must be Y/n.” Anakin shook his head lightly, hinting a little smirk as leaned over your table with fixed eyes. 
Hell, no.
“Yes, I am. How may I help you?” You were bitter, totally unbothered by his chiseled cheekbones, or his gorgeous hair, or his plumped lips. Not even the scar had any effect whatsoever. He was an ass and that was automatically a turn off for you. 
“I’m sorry I haven’t met you. You must be new.” He explained with dreamy eyes, subtly checking you out. You cursed the moment you decided to come in today with a blouse who had a bit of a cleavage. “I’m Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”
“Actually, I’ve been here for almost two months now.” You suppressed the soul-eating need to roll your eyes.
“Oh, really? Sorry, I don’t come here much.” He leaned over even more, trying to keep eye contact even when you sat down. 
“Obviously.” You whispered on the low.
“Excuse me?” Anakin frowned, interrupting his beam to pout with confusion.
“Nothing.” You smiled widely with a fake grin. 
“Okay…” His frown deepened before a smirk broke out his lips. “Maybe I will make it a habit and visit more often.” He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side, deciphering the effects of his statement on you. 
“You should.” You looked at him and gave him a side-smile, making his eyes sparkle. “Books are good for you.” You returned to check the order of nabooian books on your computer. 
“Yeah, books are cool but there are other things I would much rather check out.” He smirked shamelessly at you, the back-handed comment flying way over his head.
You felt like gagging. Not the good kind.
Before you could come up with a clever response and shut him down for good, Ahsoka spoke from behind him.
“Ugh, gross! Let’s go!” The kid dragged him out by his clothes and before he disappeared through the glass door, he winked at you.
That was the first time you have seen him. First of many, many more. 
Since the day your paths crossed, he took every fleeting moment to come and “read”, when in reality it was just him eating, or drawing or doing anything but opening a book. Taking advantage of your breaks, or whenever you returned to your seat after doing rounds, he would come over and make conversation. About his battles, his accomplishments, his close-calls to death… or about random facts he collected from his missions and travels; Anything that would maybe impress you.
And when he wasn’t doing that? He would drown you in compliments, to see if in fact, you soften up to him. Anakin was already aware of your no-so-secret disgust towards him the day he caught one of your eye rolls.
Did he care? No. 
He was persistent: admiring your hair, loving the way you had styled it in a little bun (even though it was because the heat was eating you alive). He would ask about the tasks you were performing, sucking at pretending to be interested in hearing about organizing books in alphabetical order. 
And it would have maybe worked; his good looks combined to his natural charisma were enough to make any mortal melt at his sight. You almost combust when you saw him carrying some wood boards into the library, the primal part of you rejoicing at the sight of his strong muscles stretching. The man was eye candy, whether you like it or not.
But, boy, were you tough.
Anakin Skywalker was not your cup of tea to say the least. You wouldn’t collaborate in his attempts to get to know you. You were so uninterested in finding out more about him when you had already scanned him. Just a way-too-handsome-for-his-own-good guy who was lucky enough to be born as the Chosen One, because otherwise, he would have never made it in the Order. He was determined, you would give him that. 
His approaches were never creepy or invasive enough to make you uncomfortable, only to drive you wild. Even when he was the worst part of your day, you had to keep the polite but distant charade going on, in order to protect your job. Your disgust towards him, instead of hurting him, amused him. He liked challenges and you were freaking Mission Impossible. Although he also saw the flaws in you: a pretentious prick girl who had probably achieved everything in her life thanks to nepotism. But he could see past that.
Because, boy, were you hot. 
And he was sure you liked it nasty. 
Underneath your goodie-two-shoes clothes hid the true you: he knew you loved being treated like a filthy slut.
“Hello, y/n!” Ahsoka squealed in an excited voice. You two have grown to adore each other. 
“Hey, Soka!” You responded happily, finishing to put some encyclopedias on a shelf. When you turned around, you saw she wasn’t alone. “Oh… good afternoon, Anakin.”
“Nice to see you too, y/n.” Anakin huffed in a sarcastic voice before strolling to where you were, Ahsoka following close behind. “Is that a new shirt? It suits you.”
“No, it’s the same white button up shirt that I’ve always used.” You smiled and turned around to roll your eyes in peace. He was too busy devouring your bosom behind the fabric to ever notice the barrier between his eyes and your skin.
“Y/n, do you think you could grab me a book about loreeks? I’m doing a little presentation about them for my science class.” Ahsoka asked you with a sweet voice.
“Oh sure… just let me look oveeeer…” You walked, stretching the words as you searched in the countless sections. “...here. It must be on one of these shelves.” You announced when you entered the exotic animals aisle. 
Digitating the code on your scanner you found out it was in one of the tallest shelves, only reachable with a ladder. Right when you were about to move it, Anakin came in.
“Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll get it.” And he used the Force to bring the book down. “Here you go Snips, study hard.” He nudged her head, annoying her.
“Yeah, I guess… but it’s Friday. Can I read after I hang out with the other padawans? Barris and Meelo are going skating!” She gave her best puppy eyes, to which Anakin agreed, after giving it little to no thought.
“You didn’t have to give her the book, I could have done it.” You waited for Ahsoka to leave before dropping the bomb. 
“Easy there, kitten. I was just helping out.” He furrowed his eyebrows. As if the unnecessary nickname wasn’t enough to drive you mad. Looking down, he saw the rest of your outfit and lingered his eyes more than necessary in your short, black skirt. “On second thought, I might have let you do it.” He smirked confidently.
“Just stay out of my way, okay?” You growled, walking away from him to your desk, not without bumping your shoulder with his on your way out.
“What the hell is your problem?” He asked with an incredulous face.
You were done. The build-up from the past month was beginning to choke down your sense of decency. Not to mention that your day was already going terrible before he appeared: the droid that would always help you out was broken, significantly delaying your work day. Also, it was laundry day and you had to use your uncomfortable lingerie.
“You know what, Skywalker?” You turned around with raised eyebrows. “You’re my problem.” He opened his eyes in bewilderment. “I don’t like you. I don’t appreciate you coming in, all macho-” You made a mocking manner. “-acting like a goddamn superhero, only after cleaning up the mess you created in the first place.” You crossed your arms in your chest. 
“I’m a general, kitten, and I can assure you the war it’s not my fault.” He scoffed, he used the nickname again, knowing it would press your buttons. 
“And how many times have you messed it up bigger than it was?” You squinted your eyes, only to see him run out of words. “That’s what I thought.” You came back to digitating codes. “It’s like you don’t think. You are just a machine run by adrenaline and praise.” You finally rolled your eyes in front of him without shame. You tried to run down the reports that C7, your assistant droid would do, only to fail and almost delete everything in your computer. “And I can assure you I have bigger problems than dealing with you!”
“Okay, back down-”
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yelled, getting desperate and throwing a tantrum at the device. You had enough for the day. You could leave, given that no one would come over this late, but your sense of responsibility prevented you from going home before finishing your work load. “I fucking hate this system!”
“Let me see-”
“Don’t! Just don’t, okay?” You swatted his hand away. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Could you stop being so stuck-up and let me help you?” He raised his voice, stepping up close to tower you. His eyes were on fire and you could sense that your previous comments did get to him, but for some reason outside of your understanding, he was still willing to help.
“Fine.” You chewed the words in your mouth, stepping down as you glared at him, giving him space to analyze the situation.
Instead of leaning down the computer, he went directly to C7, who lingered weakly on the side of your desk. He picked him up and put it on the table, moving him around his hands to examine the droid. He hummed after a couple of minutes, putting the mechanical body at eye level. “I see.”
“See what? What is it?” You pressed, trying to pick a glance from over his shoulder.
“I’m going to need my tools.” He murmured, dropping the droid back again.
“Wh-”
“I’ll be right back.” He exclaimed, before heading to the door in a rush.
“Wait! What?” You shouted, the shadow of his body the only thing visible.
You stayed alone for about fifteen minutes. You even got to thinking that he was pulling a prank on you, after yelling at him. But you stayed there, because well… what else would you do? You were beginning to fall asleep as you played with paper clips, when you heard the door being opened again.
“Finally! I thought you had left!” You sighed in relief, pushing your body off your desk. 
“I was getting my tools, I told you.” He frowned, lifting the heavy, dark red box to the white marble. “Now let’s bring this one back to life.” He smiled, before busting the carcass open. 
It took Anakin less than what you waited for him to get C7 up and running again. He flipped panels, snapped cables and pressed buttons, at an order that seemed random to you, until C7’s mechanical eyes opened again.
“Oh my God!” You laughed in disbelief. “He’s functioning again!”
Anakin smiled down at the table, as he finished up adjusting some screws. C7 sat up, analyzing his surroundings before getting up and going straight back to work. 
“I-I-” You were speechless. How did he do that? So fast? “I can’t believe you just did that.” You mumbled, still looking at C7 like it was a ghost. “Thank you, Anakin.” You turned around with apologizing eyes, twitching an embarrassed smile. 
“No problem. His transmitter was disconnected from the main system. I had to fix his-” The next couple of things that he mentioned sounded like pure gibberish to you, but he was very firm, so it must be true. Right? Sensing your bafflement, he spilled facts slower and quieter until he stopped talking, finalizing with a dry smile. “Yeah, it was nothing.”
He was starting to pack everything in his toolbox again and you had a pending need to say something. However, you didn’t know if you should kick off with a real apology or-
“How did you know all that?” So a pop quiz it was. In your defense, you were genuinely curious about the abilities he had just demonstrated. Mindblown, to be more specific. 
“About what?” He furrowed his brows, closing the box but leaving on the table. 
“About the transmitter, and the restraining bolt, and- and-” You were running out of technical terms. 
“Mechanics are second nature to me at this point.” He shrugged his shoulders, picking up the box. “I know everything about the topic, so, it was an easy fix. I’d have rearranged his central system if I had the missing part, but it’s very specific. What I did will do for now, though.” 
He was about to leave when he noticed the way you were leaning on the table, head on top of your fist to pay close attention to him. You were murmuring almost unhearable “uh-huh”s, totally lost in his words. 
“Sooo, you know mechanics.” You were such a hypocrite, you couldn’t stand the man fifteen minutes ago and now you were drooling over the sight of him explaining complicated shit to you. Snob. “You often fix things?” You tried to investigate, see if the throbbing happening between your legs was worth pursuing. 
“Sometimes… I often go to the hangar and repair the damaged ships or flip them.” He grinned without teeth. “The techs often ask for me. They say I have an eye for these things. Been working on droids since I was a kid, so.” Anakin wasn’t trying to brag, but his ample knowledge in mechanics was something that he prided himself on. 
“That seems like a lot of work.” You continued the small talk, slowly losing yourself over this spontaneous crush. 
“It can get tricky.” He dismissed, beginning to notice the glint on your eyes. He recognized the way your irises had darkened: He got those fuck-me eyes wherever he went. “Still haven’t found something I can’t fix.”
But it was involuntary. The fact that he was an expert on a matter as hard as mechanics scratched a part of your brain; It flipped a switch inside of you. Anakin was a different man under your eyes now. He was smart, hella smart. 
“Gosh, that’s so impressive.” You giggled like the girls that would flirt at him. Pathetic. But you quickly regained control, not before sucking up some courage and getting closer to him, posing more seductively this time. “That brain of yours sure hides lots of secrets.”
He hadn’t quite figured out why the change of heart, so it took him a moment to replay your evening together. It lasted a bit more than he liked to admit, but it hit him. Of course. An arrogant smile cracked his face. Of course you would be attracted to someone who was a master of something you consider relevant. After all, you liked to consider yourself an “intellectual”. Just to test his theory, he consciously started to brag about something else… something that would have your panties in a bunch if his hypothesis was correct.
“Wanna know another one?” He cocked an eyebrow, resting his elbow on the table to stand inches away from your face.
Your face shined with a slight pink blush, but it was the way you bit your lip that drove him crazy. That and your enthusiastic nod. “Yeah.”
“There’s a reason behind why I’m the best pilot of the fleet. And it’s not just because of my background as a pod racer or the Force.” He whispered, snickering at how soft your eyes had grown. “It’s actually because… I use physics.”
“Physics?” You almost moaned. 
“Yeah, physics.” He repeated, moistening his lips, a thing your eyes followed. “Self-taught, just like with mechanics.”
That ripped a subtle whimper out of you. Well, not subtle to him. 
“You-you understand math?” If it wasn’t because you were visibly squeezing your thighs at the newly acquired information, he would be completely offended that you thought he was dumb as fuck. 
“Love em.” He muttered, his intense stare glued to you, as his fingers put a string of hair behind your ear.
Like thunder, you were rushing to capture his lips and show him just how hot you thought he was now. Anakin freezed at first, taking aback by your sudden demonstration of affection, but when he understood that you were willingly -and enthusiastically- giving yourself to him, he wasted no time to embrace you back. 
Wet kisses splashed everywhere; it was fucking mess. You hung onto his shoulders while he groped all of your body, starting with your sweet hips, fondling your ass like it was his personal stress ball and finally landing on your waist. You pressed against him shamelessly, but in reality, how much shame could you still have when the man’s tongue was down your throat? The only thing you knew with certainty was that the sucking sounds and moans you both dropped were intensifying the already sex-filled atmosphere.
“Anakin.” You tried to sound normal, but your voice was failing just like your knees were. “W-why haven’t you gone to a proper school? Maybe get a degree?”
Was that seriously so important to you? The opinion of others? Anakin questioned in his own head.
Anakin was the kind of person that wasn’t susceptible to the opinion of others, especially regarding his own image. He was sure of the shit he knew and didn’t need anyone validating that for him. No expensive universities, no uptight professors; Obi-Wan was more than enough. Nonetheless, he had found a shortcut to get inside your pants and God as his witness, he was gonna use it. 
“Y/n.” He snickered right in your face, drinking in the power. “I don’t care about any of that. I'm a certified engineer, that’s how I got to build this myself.” Removing the leather, he revealed his mechanical limb to you, wiggling his fingers.
It was fancier than you ever thought a mechanical hand could be. Black with touches of gold; it was elegant and sophisticated, way more advanced than any technology you had ever seen in the orthopedics research field. And you knew it well, your mom was an orthopedic surgeon. 
It was no surprise to him that after spilling that last fact you were now shamelessly grinding on his half-hard. The fact that he was an engineering mastermind was such an aphrodisiac. And as much as he wanted to have another taste of your full, pink lips, the ones he often imagined enveloped around his dick while you scolded him, Anakin wasn’t willing to make the first move.
You were going to have to beg for it. 
“Anakin?” Your hands flattened on his pecs, back arching when he cupped your cheek with the cool durasteel prosthetic, kneading against it with soft eyes. He must have noticed how captivated you were by his invention. 
“Yeah, baby?” He continued the soft ministrations up and down your cheek, redirecting your gaze to his face whenever your eyes would deviate to his artificial limb. 
“You- Uhm, you built it from scratch?” You gulped when his thumb inched closer to your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip and pulling it open. 
Little obedient you put no resistance, and instead, stuck out your wet tongue to happily receive his digit into your warmness. But this time it was his index, the one you were bobbing your head into, eye contact not faltering even when you were practically giving oral to his hand. Anakin smiled pleased at your enthusiasm for pleasuring him and added another finger for you to lubricate. 
“From scratch.” He nodded, lustful irises boring into you. “Designed it too.”
You moaned around him, feeling content with being sandwiched between his firm torso and your desk, and with your mouth being fucked by his fingers. Saliva smeared all over your chin, you whined pitifully when your lips were no longer stuffed. On the contrary of leaving you all hot and bothered, Anakin lowered those same fingers to your leaky cunt, pushing your underwear aside for easy access. 
He groaned when he first inserted a finger, your gasping a sign for him to slow down. “Baby, you’re tight.” He seemed to love that about you. 
After adjusting to the size of his strong index finger, Anakin breached in with his middle one, repeating the process of you getting used to the coldness and girth all over. 
“A-Anakin.” You closed your eyes, involuntarily standing on your tippy toes. 
“That’s right, you’re doing so well. Taking my fingers like a true champ.” He bit down a condescending smile. “Atta girl.”
The initial discomfort was just a milestone you had to overcome to succumb to the pleasure that it was being fucked by Anakin Skywalker’s metal hand. His frigid thumb came to roll over your bundle of nerves, helping you relax into him and enjoy the sensation of fully riding his hand. 
“That’s it. Fuck my hand just like that, kitten.” He chuckled, finding a spot on your neck to latch on, leave a little souvenir of your encounter, and hide his pitiful laugh. 
Kisses were peppered along your exposed throat, your clavicle and jaw, his long eyelashes tickling you and making you clench around his metal hand tighter. Whilst you worried about not whining too loud for anyone to enter the library, Anakin was pumping his fingers at such an unholy pace to complicate your task.
“Shhh, baby. You need to be quiet. Wouldn’t like for anyone to come in. You could lose your job.” He mocked with a side smile and you had to gripped his bicep to keep your balance. “Could you imagine? Getting caught having sex at work? With a Jedi?”
You could perceive that the trespassing of the pseudo-celibacy Jedi code was turning him to no end, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes getting stronger when he said the last sentence. 
“W-We’re not having sex.” You corrected him, like it mattered. Like having him knuckles deep into you was somehow less frowned-upon than to have actual coitus.
That made him laugh and you wiggled underneath him, fighting to not let your tears fall. 
“You just wait.” His lips ghosted over yours, his breath fanning over your heated face. The increase of the movements of his hand was a sign that he had noticed the contractions around his digits, fully aware that you were close. “Ready to come, baby? Gonna gush all over me?”
You nodded, biting your swollen lip, losing the battle against your tear duct. Anakin used his other thumb, the one that was not torturing your clit, to liberate your abused lip. His mouth lowered to capture yours in a hot kiss, this tongue sliding on your inside until it hit your throat. So deep into you that you would never forget his taste; so deep you will never be able to deny him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered against his smile when you reached your peak, dissolving into this meaningless mass between his arms. “Anakin…” You rode out your climax, still rocking your hips to prolong the pleasure.
Anakin waited until you regained some composure to help you fix your clothes, putting back your underwear as he found it and lowering your skirt. His actions had you frowning: Weren’t you two gonna fuck? You were already mentally prepared to welcome his enormous cock in your tiny canal. 
He grinned at your puppy eyes and adorable pout, your flustered state funnier than it should be. It was almost enough to break him. But someone had to give you a lesson. 
 “At the end of the day, I’m just a soldier, Y/n. An incompetent one, according to you.” 
Before you could protest that, he was tilting his head in an accusatory manner. Like saying: Don’t even try it. And before leaving with his head high, he spat: 
“My apologies if that’s not fancy enough for you, ma’am.”
2K notes · View notes
atzual · 5 months
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what your ateez bias says about you
if you take this seriously, that's on you. i'm just doing this for fun.
tw: heavy topics, language, roasting
*****
hongjoong: right. how's the desire to impress people and overworking yourself doing? i feel like what draws you in is his resilience, and that he is very dependable. you probably had a lot of moments where you were left to your own devices to work on something major, and are no stranger to burnout. you might be the kind of person to talk about your achievements and your work and everything you do a lot, maybe to seek validation (and maybe to cement that you have something others don't). on a softer note, you probably have a wide range of skills in a field you are interested in, and experiment a lot. generally are not afraid to go outside of norms to figure something out. so to see the qualities of a leader and innovator in joong is both comforting and inspiring to you. (bonus: you probably have a thing for clips of joong in the studio, don't you?)
seonghwa: you feel like you don't have anyone who you can actually trust with your thoughts and feelings, huh? people talk at you, not to you. you are a natural care-giver, are quick to give advice (also to bottle up someone else's negativity), often ignoring yourself. you might have lost the feeling of 'home' or of 'small but certain happiness', and might have some unhealthy coping mechanisms. on a brighter note, you are someone who can process emotions a lot more deeply than others and if there is anyone who can actually put themselves in another's shoes, it's you. i think hwa is a safe space to you, precisely because it is not all sunshine and rainbows. you connect with his battles, growth, and how he is accepting change and trying to find balance. (bonus: him getting excited about something is legit your therapy isn't it)
yunho: many acquaintances, few friends? i think you legitimately stopped believing in love. at least the mushy 'at first sight' and 'meet cute' and 'soulmates' kind of love. might be because of family-related things, or because of romantic relationships, but trust is a problem for you. you probably think negatively about yourself quite a bit and/or have/had a more pessimistic mindset. on the positive, i think you're really loyal when you find your people, and want to see them happy. you connect with people beyond love, you make connections that are made on living life together and going through things together. i think this is also what drew you to yunho - his perseverance, resilience, ability to smile in the face of hardship, but also his ability to navigate a lot of emotions as they come and deal with them in a healthy way. (bonus: his small expressions of affection/acts of kindness make you melt, right?)
yeosang: you've been through quite a lot, haven't you? i think you try to laugh a lot of it off or treat it lightly, but the demons eat away at you sometimes. you might be someone who burned out in/after high school, and generally does not have a good experience with school. might feel lonely even when you are not alone, sometimes just choosing to float in your imagination for comfort. often act tough or not quite like yourself to appear more like the you you have in your head. i think in part you kind of want to learn how to love the world like yeosang, and are really touched by his sweetness and his humor. you are a fighter and despite it all, do stay true to yourself and your values, and this is something that you find and adore in yeosang. you are drawn in by his ability to follow his dream, and his heart of gold. maybe your scars will turn golden too. (bonus: you probably have a mild obsession with his one-liners)
san: how are your boundaries, broken like the wall? you probably have some trouble with setting and/or maintaining boundaries, and so sometimes have people treading over you. you might feel like a side character in your own life, and so turn bitter and internalize a lot of negative energy. honestly on a brighter note i think you really do try hard for others, and go out of your way to try and make dreams happen for others, because it makes them and you happy. you cheer, you support and you truly show that you are on a loved one's team. I feel that what draws you to san is how he transformed himself in a healthy manner, and how he maintains a very clear circle of those he trusts, and is no stranger to kindly setting rules in place while still remaining sweet and respectful. he is a safe space for you both because he makes you smile with his stories and jokes, but also because he is adamant on keeping things in order. (bonus: his reaction to the merch donation story lives rent free in your mind)
mingi: got some problems with regulating emotions, maybe? be it hiding them until you burst or not knowing how to express them, i think this might be a challenge for you. you might have been exposed to something that made you believe that it is a sign of weakness or a risk. at the same time, you are logical, damn good at what you do, and when you face hard times you bounce back, even if it takes some time. i think you and mingi share the introspectiveness, and you like how thoughtful he is. you probably find comfort in how he shares happiness with others, and how he seeks closeness with loved ones. at the same time, there is something about how he transforms on stages that resonates with you - the power and confidence is something you want to work on and find more of in yourself. (bonus: your will never stop thinking about mingi's creative process monologues + freestyle mingi)
wooyoung: do people tell you you have a big personality, or that you are 'a lot' sometimes? i feel like you have your way of working, your way of thinking, but might have a hard time actually communicating that or adapting to different social environments. it might be because you're headstrong, or because you are in constant fight or flight mode and so are more rigid. at the same time i think you are diligent and very detailed with what you do, and are in fact attentive to others and might notice things others don't. i feel like what you admire in wooyoung is his ability to connect with others, while not losing himself or his values. you feel for his hardships, and he helps you learn how to be more loving and more open with expressing and accepting love. he is very much your candle. (bonus: you cried because of his interview + dance in that one show, didn't you?)
jongho: how many thoughts are spinning in your head? you might be an overthinker, slightly misanthropic, and on bad days might sink to having a victim mindset and ask the universe 'why me?'. you might have had to grow up too fast, or were controlled a lot as a kid - either way, your understanding and experience of freedom and maturity might be warped. at the same time you are reliable and are able to call things out for what they are. you might have also put a positive spin on the negatives and either used them as inspiration, grew from them, or taken a skill from them that you then generalized. i think jongho's humor and innate warmth is your haven, and his continuous self-development grounds you and motivates you to also try your best and think of ways to find the good in situations. i feel you might also resonate with his occasional shyness. (bonus: you often think about his emotional strength even when he talks about his concerns, don't you?)
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secretlovezz · 4 months
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Kiss Me
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Daryl Dixon x reader
Summary: while you and Daryl are out on a run feelings are disruptively revealed
Warnings: killing of walkers (duh), Daryl is implied to be older than reader, kissing (of course), just fluff, let me know if I've missed anything
Word count: 1299 (Think that's the most I've ever written on here lol)
Not Proofread
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"Watch it."
Daryl's arm swings up lazily with his pointer finger aiming in a direction to the left of you where a walker slowly makes its way closer, stumbling and tripping over the dead plant life and its decaying limbs. You meet it halfway and its milky eyes meet yours, for a split second you let yourself wonder what kind of life this creature- no this woman- lived before the world went to shit, you take notice of the wedding ring on the ring finger of her left hand before her groans and growling got louder; your knife sinks its way into the shambling and rotting skull of the corpse and the body drops to the ground.
Up ahead a few feet Daryl watches you, your movements, your eyes and lips, your hands, he watches it all and he notices that look the one of sadness and empathy.
Before he and his group came to Alexandria you had yet to truly experience the outside world; the unrealistic safety of walls had kept you naive and unprepared for the dangers of the dead.
Though you are no longer naive to the world you still have your moments, moments where Daryl would remind you albeit a little harshly that there was nothing you could do to help these things- these "people".
When you catch up with him you smile in an attempt to convince him that you weren't thinking about what he knew you were. His brow raises at you and your eyes roll dramatically in return. You hit his arm playfully and smile again, somehow this one is brighter than the one before, "Let's keep going Dar' this food isn't gonna find itself ya' know." The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smirk when you look away from him to continue walking he can't look away even as he makes his way back to you and you seem to have no idea the effect you have on him.
《----------♡
The two of you come across what seems like a small town with few houses and stores, a town that's probably already been raided for its supplies but Alexandra's desperation for food and medicine prompts you and Daryl to double-check- just in case.
Your eyes wander around admiring the once nice country houses as you walk down one of the streets-you forget the name of it already- and once again let your mind float away to life before. Would you have lived in a house like this if you got the chance, to live a married life with children running around if it was possible? Would the man you'd have married be a man like Daryl?
Your cheeks heat just at the thought of a domestic life with him. Is he the type of man to kiss your forehead when the two of you wake up together in bed as the sun shines through the bedroom window? You wonder if he would be the type to kiss and tickle the kids to make them laugh. Would he want a life like that or would he laugh at the idea?
You don't realize it but your legs have stopped moving, you stare at one of the houses wishing and reminiscing on what could have been but can no longer be.
Daryl watched you again but this time in confusion, this is the first time he hasn't known what you were thinking.
"What is it? Seen somethin'?" He asked walking back over to where you were to peer into the windows of the house.
Your head whips over to him eyes widening and cheeks heating even hotter in embarrassment.
Your fingers hastily move to fidget with the straps of your backpack, "I- uh- we should... let's just keep going." You keep your head down in shame at your thoughts though they weren't lewd as you make your way past him. He wants so badly to grab your arm- to have his skin gently against yours in concern as you speedily go by but he restrains himself fingers twitching against his crossbow and he clears his throat to continue after you.
《----------♡
After thoroughly searching through a hand full of buildings that included, gas stations, houses, supermarkets, and pharmacies neither of your bags were full having over found a few bottles of not too important medicines and a couple of tools.
When the two of you found a house, and cleared it of threats, to hunker down in for the night after a day of disappointments you settled in the living room upset and tired- understandably so. Worrying about the ignominy you'd feel returning home with practically nothing you let out a sigh from deep within your chest and moved your hands so the the palm of them would dig roughly into the sockets of your eyes.
Daryl let out a similar deep sigh as he settled closely next to you. His head falls back and his eyes drift to you letting a gaze so intense that you could feel it fall onto you.
You look back at him and try to let a grin form on your face but its tight lipped and almost fatigued.
The older man lets his eyes travel your face for what feels like the millionth time basking in your unreal beauty and like always their destination is your lips, though cracked they looked soft. He realizes he's ogling too late but still tries to fixates his stare back to your eyes before you notice.
You'd noticed though.
You debate asking him about it no longer worried about the lack of supplies you guys hadn't found but about whether or not you had imagined Daryl Dixon staring at your lips with a yearning you'd only seen in movies before the dead rose.
"Do you-um-" Talking about something as simple as feeling was more complex than they made it seem in movies though and you'd already stuttered over yourself an embarrassing amount of times today.
You leaned your face a little closer to his and his breath hitched. "Do you... like me? Like- do you want to kiss...me?" This was humiliating, you felt like a teenager, like you were fifteen and talking to your crush. Well, you were talking to your crush but you weren't fifteen anymore.
Daryl softly nodded letting out a gruff hum of agreement and you almost melted at the sound.
He leaned in a little closer just close enough so the tip of his nose could just barely brush against yours, "Do ya' want me to kiss ya'?"
"Please." You whispered.
His lips quirk upwards for a split second, "Please what?"
Your lips brush against his desperately, "Kiss me."
Daryl surges forward to capture your lips with his, you let out a sound on impact. The kiss is needy and filled with a want you both had been holding in for what feels like forever. Daryl's hands find your hips and grips them tightly using the strength he's built over the years to move you into his lap. You straddle him and shift you hands to rake through his hair before clasping them to the side of his head.
When you finally part for air you let your forehead rest against his, both of you panting heavily while staring into each others eyes. The smile on your face is wide and you giggle at the flushness on his cheeks- you did that to him.
The man you sit on top of doesn't know why your laughing, "Wha'?"
Relocating your head to press into the crook of his neck your smile widens and the fingers on one of your hands tangle and play with his hair, "Nothin' just... happy."
Daryl's smile is one that your sure you'll remember in every life time.
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freak-accident419 · 9 months
Text
Good Tidings
Josh Futturman x GN!Reader
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Summary: You and Josh barely have any time to yourselves due time traveling nonstop, trying to save the fate of humanity. However, being at the Futturman’s Christmas dinner party granted you two a fair amount of time.
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader (no genitals specified, it’s just vague penetration), cockwarming, lots of fluff, takes place during Future Man S1E6 “A Blowjob Before Dying”, too much shitty sex jokes n puns (im sorry) (not), giddy+silly+sweet love making, you think you are sooo fucking funny, more goofy than serious/lustful, you two are very much in love, more plot (high ass dialogue) than porn tbh
(A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! Hope you enjoy this muahahaha and thank you all for your recent support! First smut written on this account, so be gentle with me please !)
-
You, Tiger, Wolf, and Josh were at the Futturman household, schedule disrupted due to the reluctance of Josh’s parents. They insisted that you all join them for their small Christmas dinner party. You were all sat down at the dining table, as well as the neighbors, Josh’s Uncle Barry, and Diane’s friend, Wanda (who was especially invited to perhaps keep Barry at bay).
While Tiger was mostly impatient and displeased with every mindless convo and laughter, talk revolved around several topics like DNA kits or Wolf’s strangely fascinating culinary.
You sat beside your boyfriend, Josh, slightly nervous about the time you were wasting. Ever since you’ve been dragged into the whole ‘Biotic Wars is real’ and ‘kill or be killed’ shit, you and Josh have been dealing with the worst, unimaginable shit ever. With the two of your adrenaline wearing off, you gradually processed everything that’s happened the past few days since you were never given a break. Hence the hand holding under the table as you two would seek comfort from one another.
But you attempted to distract yourself from the deaths you’ve witnessed and the near-death experiences you’ve had to your best ability by indulging in every conversation.
“Gabe, honey, tell them about—about the recent fishing trip we went on,” Josh’s mother, Diane encouraged to her husband with her sweet, achingly kind voice. You had so much respect for Josh’s parents, so it was pretty easy for you all to hit it off well. They loved you. In fact, they were heavily relieved that Josh had finally found someone, let alone someone as amazing as you.
Gabe let out a hearty chuckle as he prepared himself to tell the table his story.
“So, a couple of days ago, Diane and I went on a small fishing trip. And I remembered an old trick back in the day that attracted a lot of trout,” he explained as you picked up your glass of wine, sipping some generously. Diane smiled at him with a nod as he continued. “One of the very efficient ways to go about fish bait is blowing worms.”
You choke on your wine, holding in a laugh, coughing a bit instead as Josh looks at you with a knowing smile. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying not to grin too widely. Did you hear that right?
“Blowing worms,” Gabe repeated, getting a confined chuckle out of you and Josh. “You inflate the worms with air, which makes them float instead of having your bait be at the very bottom. It’s perfect, especially near the winter time. Worked like a charm.”
“Ohh,” you gasp in wonder. You chuckle to yourself before you spontaneously say, “Yeah, actually, I think I did do that a few times. Blew a-a worm.”
You looked at Josh, thinking you were being hilarious, but he looked at you with surprised eyes and parted lips of shock that slowly transitioned into a smile.
“Really?” Josh’s father expressed with intrigue. “I didn’t even know you fish. You have someone teach you that method, or—”
“Oh, no, Mr. Futturman, I,” you speak as you occasionally switch from looking at him to Josh. “I think it’s a very popular method. It’s a pretty natural instinct, you know? Blowing worms, that is.”
“Wow, really? Always thought it was an old-fashioned sort of thing.”
“Nah, far from old-fashioned, it’s almost contemptuous!”
You did pretty well at suppressing your laughter, because you sounded really earnest. Josh covered his mouth, amused by your subtle humor.
“Joshy, we didn’t know that Y/n likes fishing. We could’ve taken them on our trip. In fact, we could’ve all went,” Diane suggests as she looked at Josh and then you.
It was like everyone at the table was blind to your immature, yet humorous implication. Except, of course, your boyfriend.
“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Futturman,” you insisted kindly. “I don’t usually fish. Plus, blowing worms can be very exhausting.”
“Y/n—” Josh reacted, but interrupted himself with a suppressed laugh.
“You think so?” Mr. Futturman raised an eyebrow. “I just stick a syringe in them, inflate it, and bam, it’s all thick and ready to g—”
You and Josh burst out laughing, holding onto the table and each other. You swore there were slight tears coming out of your eyes as both of your faces were red. You felt overjoyed to feel happiness and delight for the first time ever since your involvement in the mission. And you felt even more glad that it was your boyfriend that you fooled around with.
“Sorry, sorry,” Josh says after his laughter died down as the entire table was confused. “I just—We just thought about a, um, moment when—Um… Actually, Y/n and I did go fishing once. Isn’t that—isn’t that right?”
You nod and go along with it, detaining your giggles.
“Well, anyways, we actually did that method, and yeah, you’re right, it works like a charm!” He exclaimed with joy as his parents smile at him with approval and pride.
“Bet the worm was pretty small, huh?” Tiger jumped in wittily, however, in a coldly nonchalant manner.
“And pathetic!” Wolf blurted.
“Hey, even if that might’ve been true—might’ve—it-it probably had a personality, you know?” He reckoned with a shrug, making you laugh again.
***
“You are—are fucking terrible, you know that?” Josh quickly muttered under his breath as you two continued to kiss each other deeply on his bed. “Those were my parents.”
“C’mon, baby, admit it, it was comedy gold,” you giggle, pressing your lips to his once more by tugging his black, skinny necktie towards you as you remained sitting on his lap.
The dinner party was still going on downstairs. After a long time of looking at each other longingly at the table, you two decided to excuse yourselves in order to “prepare gifts for Josh’s coworkers that he forgotten to wrap” in his room.
When you guys rushed in his room, you couldn’t take your hands off each other, immediately making out once the door was locked. However, you then had to close all his blinds before you met him back on the bed. This wasn’t new to you, none of it was. The soft, warm orange that his room’s light emitted strangely comforted you, as well as being back on his soft, spacey mattress.
Was it a good idea to leave Tiger and Wolf alone with Josh’s family and company? Probably not. But you’ve taught them enough shit. They tolerate Josh’s parents, so why not a few other guests as well? And you’ll only be gone for no longer than five minutes, you’d hoped.
You bring your hands to his pants, attempting to unbuckle his belt. “Shit—What the—What the fuck is this?” You grumble, Josh laughing at you as you struggle.
“I think it’s—” He giggled, bringing his own hands to his belt, trying to remove it, pulling. “I think it’s stuck.”
“What the shit?” You wheeze. “Fuckin’—Fuckin’ cock block!” You continue to mess with the belt, trying your best to unbuckle it.
“Wait, you—you’re almost there, you—”
“Oh my god! Holy shit! I got it!” You let out a surprised gasp, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants right after.
“Oh shit! Flawless victory!” He exclaimed, making you stop in your tracks, looking back up at him.
“You did not just quote Mortal Kombat because I successfully unbuckled your belt,” you raise an eyebrow, nevertheless amused by his dorkiness.
“Maybe,” he answered smugly.
“You’re lucky I am in love with you, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have let that slide,” you chuckle.
“Oh, come on. You’d love my video game references either way,” he insisted.
“I’m serious, Josh, the amount of things I’ve let slide because I love you is kind of crazy. Let me just say, I am so glad I met you after the ‘apple juice’ incident that Ray told me about.”
“Ray told you about that?”
“He told me a lot of things. Mostly the embarrassing things. I think he wanted to freak me out, you know? Always thought I was too good for you.”
You pulled his pants off, throwing it carelessly down on the floor. Your lips attached once more as he snickered as you then cupped his face with your warm hands. You look at your lover, his big, brown, desperate eyes looking at you with utmost adoration. “Well, jokes on him, he was entirely wrong. You are so good to me, you know that?”
He smiles at you softly, and you could sense how flustered he felt to hear that (the blushing patently gave it away). “You’re the one who’s been on my side since forever. Even when you got involved in all this shit that you didn’t even have to be in. You-You could’ve called me crazy, and-and broken up with me, but you believed me and stayed by my side, even knowing that things were gonna get dirty. And they did, get really dirty.” Rest in peace Janis and Carl? Or, rather, die, you evil perf-cocks? Eh, doesn’t fucking matter. “You’re so good for me, sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”
You giggle sweetly as you give him another kiss, a quiet smack caused by your lips deftly leaving his own to speak. “Well, I’m here and I’m real, and I’ll always be there for you, baby,” you reassure. You were perfect for him. Indefinitely.
He smiled blissfully. “I love you so much.”
You two made out passionately until you were laying under him, the lower halves of your bodies bare as you discarded the necessary clothes.
“Do you think your parents and everyone else knew about the worm thing or are they just that… I don’t know… clueless?” You asked endearingly under your breath as your fingers entangle in his soft, brown hair.
“Hmm. Possibly,” he reckons, raising his eyebrows as he thought about it. “That was still kind of evil of you, though.”
“Me, personally, I thought it was hilarious.”
“Blowing worms?”
“C’mon, your father set himself up for that.”
“Tiger called it small,” he muttered lamentably. “And Wolf said it was pathetic.”
“Jeez, whatever happened to personality?” You chuckle softly.
He sighed. “They still sort of called me out.”
“Shut up. It’s average, to say the least. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re enough.”
“But—”
“Josh, if it bothers you this much, then just prove them wrong right now,” you reply with a laugh.
“As in—?”
“Josh, c’mon, we don’t have time anyways. They’re expecting us any minute because of that shitty made-up story excuse. I love foreplay, dude, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t acknowledge the time at all. Quickies are definitely not our cup of tea. Y—” Your breath hitched as you felt his tip prod at your sensitive entrance. He gave you a soft, comforting kiss on the nose. You looked into each other’s eyes deeply, then your lips crashed into each other’s as the two of you stifled your moans once Josh finally thrusted in.
“Y-You know you’re p-perfect just the—mm—way you are, right?” You ask gently, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He smiled at this, kissing your lips once more, beginning to move. Your heart fluttered each second you felt him thrust in and out, slightly and satisfyingly stretching you. His hips moved quite skillfully, but also slightly clumsily, which was nonetheless admirable.
Your usual soft moans and gasps would be replaced by stifled grunts and sighs, due to the company downstairs. As much as you wanted the whole world to know that Josh Futturman was yours and only yours, you also had dignity—plus, it was his goddamn parents downstairs.
You giggled as you felt his nose against yours each rough kiss. “Y-You know, however, I think the only complaint I have about you is the fact that you hate Super Mario Bros.” You point out with a chuckle.
“Y/n, in my—agh—defense, it literally makes no sense. Like, why would there be pipes that are—”
“Okay, why rely solely on logic and rationality, hm, Futturman? I thought video games were all about escape. It’s all just harmless fun.”
“Yeah, well, I’m much more into games with thought-out plots and challenges,” he remarked, making you roll your eyes playfully. “Anyways, it pretty much just got ruined for me even more when Tracy at the video game store talked about Luigi having a very hairy, Italian cock.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“Baby, I love you. However, your goddamn dick is currently inside of me. Please do not talk about Luigi’s theoretic hairy penis.”
“Noted,” he assents, going back to kissing you passionately, while moving slowly inside of you, yet deeper with each thrust. You let out a quiet, pleasured gasp as you felt him fill you perfectly, his hands lovingly gripping your waist to keep you still.
Your eyes closed as you indulged in the feeling of his gentle thrusts, him peppering kisses on your neck, softly chuckling under his breath. He guessed he was still in disbelief that he had someone as amazing as you.
“I… I still can’t believe someone as perfect as you would ever go out with a loser like me,” he scoffed, pressing more kisses against your neck and jaw.
“Hey, seriously?” You frown, holding his face in your hands once more, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are… a lot of things, Josh. But a loser isn’t one of them. Okay? You are so kind and funny and caring and thoughtful a-and—m-mm—amazing i-in general.”
“I—Fuck. I—I don’t deserve you,” he panted.
“J-Jesus Christ, sh-shut your fuckin’ rathole. Yes you do, baby. You deserve me as much as I deserve you.”
It was becoming harder to focus on your words as you continued to feel an increased sensation and pleasure as his thrusts quicken and falter. You let out a small gasp as you tense things up by wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him in even deeper. You two had been speaking and giggling to each other constantly that you didn’t even notice the lewd, wet, slapping against the skin that came from each heavy thrust. Josh grabbed one of your hands, interlocking your fingers tightly on the mattress beside your head.
“J-Josh, I—” You begin breathlessly.
“I know, me too,” he grunts as soft, inaudible whimpers and whines leave his lips while the movement of his hips stuttered. His rhythm was becoming unsteady, but it was also increasing in speed. “I—Y/n, f-fuck, I’m c—”
“Sh-shit, baby, I—” You pant as you felt closer and closer over the edge, every mere feeling increasing your stimulation. You bring your hand to cover your mouth and suppress any loud moans as you finally released, the knot in your stomach undoing itself as you sigh afterwards once your hand left your mouth. Josh came exactly right after you as his hips jolted for the final time, spilling his warm, white seed inside of you, burying his face in your neck to muffle a high-pitched grunt and acute whines.
You two were breathing heavily, kissing each other’s lips softly and lovingly after you both came down from your high. You two never moved from your position, still fragile and sore. Josh caressed the side of your waist under your shirt, his head resting in your neck as you moved your hand to play with his hair, holding him in your arms.
“This is probably the only time we’ll have together alone before we have to continue with the damn mission,” you figured, tangling his strands of hair in between your fingers.
“It’s bullshit,” he mumbles, his thumb continuing to rub your waist.
“Enjoy the moment while we can?” You suggested with a small chuckle.
“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed dejectedly.
A beat.
“Hm,” you hum thoughtfully.
“Yeah?”
“Nothing, I just… I like it whenever you’re inside of me,” you comment softly. This was probably the most affectionately vulnerable and honest you have been with him. Your tone lacked any intention for humor or lust; you were genuine.
He lifted his head up from your neck. “Seriously?”
“I don’t know. It just feels right. You know, as if you were, like, made for me exactly,” you whispered lovesickly, looking down at his sweet, plump lips to his profound, gorgeous brown eyes. “I wanna stay like this a little longer. You’re so perfect for me. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, kissing your lips soothingly.
Then suddenly,
“Futturman! L/n! Get out of there, we gotta go now! Operation Cameronium!” Tiger called from the other side of the door. “Goddamnit. The fucking—tiny man—baby thing—is, just, really starting to piss me off. Let’s go!”
You and Josh looked at each other for a while in silence before bursting out into laughter.
“We-we better go before she considers murdering little baby Wallace,” you suggest with a soft smile.
“Yeah… Wait. Do you really think—”
“No…” You answer before he could finish his sentence. “I know she seems all stoic on the outside, but I feel like the past few days, she changed a bit. Empathy-wise. Slightly, at the very least.” Josh nods.
“I’m really gonna miss this,” he sighs.
“Me too. But don’t worry, once we fix everything, we have all the time in the world together,” you assert.
“Okay,” he smiles sweetly, kissing your lips before slowly pulling out of you, leaving you to feel empty and slightly bummed.
The two of you, with your clothes back on and hair quickly fixed, you waltzed downstairs with no problem. Your hands had been interlocked, faces a bit flushed as you smile to yourselves.
“You two sure look happy,” Diane expresses joyfully. “You really got into the Christmas spirit, wrapping all those gifts upstairs, huh?”
You giggled under your breath. “Oh, yeah, definitely, Mrs. Futturman. Uh, very much so. I really love Christmas, you know? The gift wrapping Joshy and I did upstairs and, you know, all the Christmas traditions. ‘Specially, ‘specially the yule log.” You look at Josh with a knowing grin as he just listened in, suspecting nothing at all. “Really makes you feel warm inside, am I right?”
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Male Alive with white rabbit reader?
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Yandere Male Alice x White Rabbit Reader
You were the first to meet Alice. His guide back into the wonderful world of Wonderland. It kind of was your job to keep tabs on him; properly wiggling your ears and puffy tail in his sights as he followed you all throughout the kingdom. But once he routinely returned you found this position fruitless. No longer did you need to trick him to relearn the sights and know-how's of Wonderland. He knew them all. And any lack of knowledge or activity was easily filled by the Queen of Hearts or the dashing Mad Hatter or even the illustrious Cheshire cat. It hurt a little but you would be fine in no time, after all, time was constantly moving and you had no time to grieve for the growing distance of a childhood friend crush. It was time to move on. 
“Special delivery, your highness!’ 
“(Y/n)!”
“Sorry, White.”
You lifted yourself from a bow as the White king tightly wrapped his arms around you. You let yourself hug back trying to be as wholesome as you could while pressing your face against his clothed muscles. 
“I’m quite glad you and your sister are making amends! It really does wonders for her mood.”
You cheered snidely as you watched the king grimace at the opened chest. He closed the lid, gagging as he waved for another disgusted servant to come and carry it away. 
“Didn’t you relay that actual hearts aren’t…good gifts to give?”
“You know the Queen of Hearts loves her labels! It’d be a crime not to give you one!”
“Right.”
You giggled as the White King shuddered again before guiding you to join him over a pot of tea. Seated across from one another you two fell into old patterns chatting away over nothings of all sorts. It wasn’t until he began to recount something Alice had done that he brought notice to the sour twitch of your nose.
“What was that?”
“What's what?”
“Your button nose is twitching again and not in the good way. What’s wrong?”
“But nothing’s wrong, it's just the way my nose is!” 
“(Y/n),” he gave a stern look that had your ears drooping; you couldn’t help but sigh.
“I’d just rather not talk about him, that's all.”
A silence fell over you two and you avoided the gray gaze of the king as you took a long sip of your tea. You let yourself focus on the wild flavor, a far cry from the typical basic flavor White would have used. You let yourself sniff at the tea’s fumes, letting your nose flex as you process the smells. 
Cinnamon. Tiger’s tears. A hare’s insanity.
“Mad Hatter’s tea? In the White Palace?”
“I had those two mix something up from the brew we had during Red’s tournament. How long has it been since you’ve seen them last?”
“Uh, it's been…a while.”
White gave a worried chuckle before giving a straight face. 
“I’ve seen that look before. Nobody’s forgetting you, (Y/n). Everyone’s just excited he’s back…and I think everyone’s just enjoying his typical…outside perspective.”
“Yeah we love you for all your speedy paranoia!” Smiling wistfully beside the king was none other than–
“Cheshire?! Could you please stop doing that!” 
“Sorry King Le Blanc! Just figured I’d invite Bunny since Hatter was feeling…experimental again.”
You deadpanned at the floating smile. 
“You just want me to record how quickly someone is going to get injured or intoxicated.”
The smile giggled before twirling around to reveal the face that came with it. Cheshire's favorite part of Hatter’s experimental spells was the truly wonderlandian experience of utter chaos. Nonetheless you finished your tea quickly before leaving the white castle with White escorting you out. 
“Until we meet again, (Y/n).”
“Farewell your highness.”
You quickly hopped down the steps of the White palace as you followed the constant vanishing body parts of Cheshire as you surged deeper into the forest. With no words shared between you continued on, enjoying the noiseness of the Wonderlandian wildlife. 
“Hey, (Y/n)?”
“Yes?”
“A-are you mad at him?”
The serious tone from someone as playful as Cheshire had you turning to look concerned at the fully materialized cat who continued to stare pointedly back at you. They had stopped walking which made you slow down to turn back to him.
“Do you mean White? Or..Alice?”
You didn’t need to hear an answer, it was glaringly obvious.
“Are you mad at him?”
“I’m not mad…does everyone think I am?”
Your surprised response didn’t seem to bring him ease. 
“...Then what do you feel about him?”
This line of questioning made your ears stand up and not in a good way. Your hairs stood up and your legs geared to run. Only affirming your worst fears Cheshire’s slitted eyes were dilated and his tail lashing around behind him. 
You were being watched. No, hunted. And even as predator and prey species respectively you both were naturally on edge. You wanted to believe it was Wonderlandian wildlife but no creature other than the Queen of Heart’s jabberwocky could incite such an atmosphere. 
“I’d…rather not say…not while we have a tea tasting to attend.”
You kept your hand steady as you pointed at your pocket watch, starting to walk in the direction of the tea party’s site. You kept your walk as casual as you could despite the tensing of your muscles. You beckoned Cheshire, subtly snapping him from his fearful stupor to join you in your attempt in normalcy. You accepted the quivering fingers that reached for your own, keeping him grounded as the feeling of a hunter’s gaze refused to let up. 
It was a long walk. Finally coming to a close as you found the opening in the forest leading to the grounds of the tea party always hosted several meters from Hatter’s home and shop. The feeling of being stalked let up as you both followed the increasing noises of the parties attendendants. You wanted to hold out until you were surely in the clear but Cheshire had other plans. Feeling his swelling sense of relief you could only be pulled along as the cat vanished once more pulling you forward with his invisible grip on your hand. 
“Sorry for our early arrival! This bunny has a habit of scampering away!” 
“No worries, you're hardly tardy at all! Bun Bun we were just talking about how delicious this blend of fruits would be with a peacock plumed top hat!” 
You sat beside Cheshire who still was holding your hand tight in his as you sat further away from the couple. You chuckled as your cousin erratically interjected with his own commentary.
“Nein! PLUCKED NOT PLUMED! A fedora is the better option!” 
The couple went on and on easily forgetting that you and Cheshire were in attendance. The two of you giggled as you each poured one another a cup of tea as you watched their theatrics. The two were entertaining in and of themselves which made any event bearable…especially after what you two had experienced.
“So? What was that about?”
You whispered to the cat refusing to look away from the Hare and Hatter as their discussion escalated. The cat took a sip of his tea, holding the pot away as Hatter reached for something to throw. 
“Can’t tell but its becoming more of an issue.”
Dodging a chair leg you hid your astonished expression behind your cup as you sipped at the interesting blend. 
“A person? Able to do that? But why? We weren’t alone, not to mention we aren’t easy targets anyway. Our presence should have been enough to scare anything with pressure sensing off.”
Cheshire paused. As if debating on answering before sending a pained exhale into his cup. 
“That is if that person could pressure sense at all…”
Cheshire looked at the look of horrified realization. Grimacing once more as he watched your lips form the question everyone’s been asking.
“You have to give him something. Confess to him or accept when he asks you.”
“....”
“You have to sate him. Date him. Please. He’s become ravenous.”
“But I didn’t even know he–”
“I know…I know…but he’s getting violent.”
“Violent?”
“Mock Turtle was the first. Then Dormouse. He’s frustrated. Stop him please.”
You wanted to press further. Question his shaking indigo irises and downturned lips. But before you could ask any further your ears perked up as Hatter called to the newest arrival. 
“Alice! Pleased you could make it! Care for a plume of tea!”
“Why that would be lovely, Hatter.” 
Alice smoothly inserted himself into the scene casually conversing with Hare who turned his throwing fits towards him. You turned to address the cat only to find he’d vanished. Feeling a squeeze at your grip and the trailing fingertips as he officially vacated the tea party. You wanted to question further only for the answer to plop beside you with a blinding smile.
“Hi there (Y/n)! It's been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
“Y-yeah it's been four weeks. Crazy, huh?”
You gulped the frog in your throat as you held up your pocket watch. Just as quickly, you pocketed it once more as Hatter called for both of your attentions. You tried to keep your eyes trained on Hatter’s elaborate display. Trying to ignore the hard staring that was being done by the owner of those baby blue eyes.
“--And this will be the final addition to our glorious concoction!”
“Mark it Bunny!” 
You deadpanned as you obeyed your cousin pulling your pocket watch out and starting the timer. With the clock ticking Mad Hatter went off; pouring various tubes and objects into a boiling pot. You let yourself be entranced by the different colorful puffs of smoke that spilled from their cauldron. As the smoke persisted you felt a tightness in your throat, nose twitching in familiarity once again.
“The *cough* mandrake root?! Hatter you mad–”
Before you could yell anything more at Hatter the warm hands of Alice reeled your attention. Clutching at you shoulders he pulled you to his body; close enough to speak into your ear.
“Come on (Y/n). Lets get out of here before both of us pass out.”
Without waiting for a response he practically carried you with him ducking into the forest. Eventually running away from the overreaching cloud of smoke leaving you both to gain your bearings deep in the Wonderlandian thicket. Watching Alice heave with his hands on his knees, you were reminded of Cheshire’s plea. You hoped maybe now was a good time to address it. 
“S-so Alice I heard you–whoa!”
He stood up eyes, practically glowing with an unsetting glaze as he stepped uncomfortably close to you. Now that you noticed a blush settled heavily on his face along with the recognizable hearts growing in his pupils.
“Oh no, an aphrodesia plant?! Alice are you okay?”
The blonde giggled playfully, “I’m just fine. In fact I have something real important to ask you~!”
“Uhm okay, go ahead.” You had a sneaking suspicion as to what this would be.
“Mmmh!” He moaned as he hugged himself, as he came even closer to you. 
“Be mine. Be all mine (Y/n)!” 
He grabbed at your red vest pulling you into him as he ran his hand in your hair and over your ears. Letting his eyes roll back as he inhaled your scent; sending a pleasurable shiver up his spine. 
“L-like uhm dating?”
He giggled some more as he hugged you tighter rubbing his nose all over your hair and face. He shook his head as if you had said the funniest thing ever only moving you along with him as he began to sway. 
“No~No~Be mine. All mine. Okay? You promise right? Otherwise I can’t help but demolish all those fools that keep you away from me!” 
“O-okay!” 
You hastily agreed lightly returning his hug as he registered your answer. Squealing he spun you around once more before lifting you into his arms as he strode deeper into the forest. 
You didn’t know where he was going or what it even meant to be his, but you figured this was for the best. For once it served you right not to run.
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shiratamahatsumiyo · 2 months
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TWST with Blood Mage reader (Part 2)
I didn't know I reached a hundred followers. Thank you so much, guys!
Warning: Gore and Slight Language
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• Everyone in the room waited in anticipation for the Dark Mirror's statement in hopes of finally ending the ceremony, But the mirror did not respond. The mirror's stoic face suddenly expressed fear and a judgemental expression seconds later. The mirror then replied...
Dark Mirror: "...This soul... Does not belong in any of the dorms."
• The crowd in the room gasped in shock and loud whispers filled the room. Crowley stuttered in confusion and asked the mirror for the reason.
Dark Mirror: "...They have a powerful yet fearful magic that exceeds the average young student... Their flow of magic power fluctuates in every vein, bone, flesh... Too difficult to discern the difference between physical and magical strength..."
Crowley: "I-i do not understand, I... Is what you are trying to say is that they are... Dangerous?"
Dark Mirror: "... That may be. But they are also gifted in an art form of magic that not a single student can master..."
Crowley: "I-i see. Well... BloodMage! Yuu, was it?"
BloodMage! Yuu: "Yes?"
Crowley: "What kind of mage are you?"
BloodMage: "...I don't know myself."
Dark Mirror: "There is still room for improvement... They must learn to harness that magic... To control it... Until then, they cannot be placed in any dorm."
• With that said, the mirror's face disappeared. The students in cloaks stared at you in disbelief and stepped away from you. The way they are cautious is not new to you. They are always scared...
Crowley: "Oh! Woe is me, woe is me! What do I do? In all experience of being headmaster, I have never thought I'd encounter this kind of problem... Sh-should I send them back?"
Grim, escaping: "Fnyagh! If you're not gonna take 'em, then take me instead!"
Crowley: "What the-- Stop, raccoon! You shall not escape!"
Grim: "The Great Grim's ain't a raccoon! And I got magic much more powerful than that guy! Just watch me!"
• The little monster escaped from Crowley's lash and floated in the middle of the room. He puffed up his furry chest to inhale some air and blew enormous blue flames. All the students ran to evade his attack, some ran towards safety, others pull out of their magical pens. The fighting students struggle to contain him as Grim levitated from corner to another one.
Crowley: "SOMEBODY CATCH THAT MONSTER!"
????: "Aren't you the headmage?"
?????: "...Ugh, how troublesome..."
???: "Stop with your complaining. You know you can end this yourself. Doesn't that thing look like a nice plump snack?"
?????: "Nah, too much work."
????: "Headmaster Crowley, do not worry. You can count on me to capture it. Without hurting the poor thing, of course!"
????: "That's Azul for you. Always showing off and always reaping the plus points."
• While the so-called powerful students (you assumed) bicker with each other, you see the boy with tan skin and silver hair struggling to avoid Grim's attacks and tripped. Before Grim could breathe out another barrage of flames, you quickly stood in front of the boy and shield him from the fire... Besides, you need to use your magic anyway.
BloodMage! Yuu: "...Are you alright?"
?????: *cough*, *cough* "Y-yeah, I think so..."
BloodMage! Yuu: "Good. You need to get up."
?????: "Right. Thanks a lot for...for........ W-W-W -WHAAAaa!!"
• The boy paused mid-sentence as he took your hand to get up, only to feel... Something wet and boney? He looked up in horror to see flesh clinging to whatever's left of your right arm. Blood dripping down from your upper torso, showing your now scorched left shoulder its inner muscles and veins.
• The boy screamed in terror, drawing attention from bystanders and running students. Everything seemed to freeze in motion as they witness the gore that you displayed. The monster even stopped his ruckus to look at what he's done. Some students fainted, some ran to get the infirmary ghosts, some holding their vomit in disgust at your exposed bloody burnt skin which the ceremonial robes can no longer hide.
???: "G-GREAT SEVENS!"
???: "AAAAAHHHH!!!"
???: "CALL THE INFIRMARY GHOSTS NOW!"
???: "THEY'RE DYING!"
???: "EVERYTHINGISFINEEVERYTHINGISFINEEVERYTHINGISFINE"
???: "DON'T LOOK HERE!"
???: "I WANNA GO HOME!"
???: "CAPTURE THAT MONSTER IMMEDIATELY! HE KILLED SOMEONE!"
Grim: ".....W...What have I done..... Th-this isn't supposed to happen.... No no no........."
BloodMage! Yuu: ".......Cell Siphon."
Grim: "I-i-it was an accident--... F-FNYAGH!?"
• Now that you have access to your blood magic, you use your blood cells to cast a spell, Cell Siphon, on Grim. The monster is suddenly put in a trance as the blood in his tiny body forces him to come closer to you. Finally, your puddle of blood starts to levitate around you and formed into a makeshift cage for Grim.
BloodMage! Yuu: "Huh... That was easy."
• You were expecting Grim to fight back but the fiery feline only sit there in the cage with his ears drooped down, and his eyes not meeting yours. You approach the headmage and handed him the cage. The headmage's mouth is agape and his wide eyes kept looking at you and back to the cage, trying to piece together what the fuck just happened. You assume that everyone else is also holding the same expression.
?????: "I apologize Headmaster, but I'm afraid Malleus Draconian has forgotten to-- OH MY FUCKING SEVENS."
• The short fae entered the room, not expecting to see scorched walls, everyone standing in shock, and you looking at him like you didn't mind the melted flesh and eyeball still dangling from your face.
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