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garciaasfluffypen · 1 year ago

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it's always been you

word count: 1.9k pairing: jennifer jareau x emily prentiss warnings: mentions of will lemonhead, gun mentions, hostage situation

a/n: this is crossposted to my ao3 so if you feel like you’ve read it, you probably have.

she couldn’t believe it.

she and emily had been on their way to apprehend casey, a feat that neither of them expected to be this hard. they had tracked him down after he had taken judge melissa hamilton’s daughter and then a short while later, melissa herself. somehow, they had gotten themselves tangled up in this mess, and now there was a woman on the floor, most likely knocked out — jj couldn’t see past where she was sitting. all she could see was emily.

emily. for years, even after she had been with will, she had known that she wanted to be with emily. she had always stolen little glances, flirted with her — and emily had always flirted back. it was harmless, in the beginning, but then it evolved into something more than jj had expected. she wasn’t sure what those feelings were, or why her stomach did flips every time she saw emily walk into the office first thing in the morning. which is probably why she threw herself into a relationship with will lamontague jr. to avoid those feelings. but those feelings never went away. even from the time she was with will, and their timely breakup a few months prior (“i’m sorry, jayje, i just can’t do this anymore. i want to be a part of michael and henry’s lifes but i just can’t be with you.”) she still thought of emily. but she was too late.

emily was with mendozza now, or at least, she thought she was. did they put a label on it yet? she wasn’t sure. but either way, she was too late and she missed her shot to have the one woman she wanted in her life. and besides, she wasn’t even sure if emily was into girls.

she probably wasn’t.

“agent…”

casey got close. too close. “jareau.”

“truth or dare?”

jj swallowed. “truth.”

“if i think you're lying or stretching the truth in the slightest, i'll kill her.”

there was no way in hell she was about to let that happen.

“you ever shoot anybody before?”

“yes, i have.”

“you enjoy it?”

“no.”

the memories of all the cases where jj had to shoot people flew back into the forefront of her mind, a moment of pause inevitable as they all replayed in her head. the ones she could save, the ones she couldn’t save… they were all there. prominent. and they wouldn’t go away.

“LIAR!” casey shot off his gun, causing both her and emily to flinch.

“no, no, no. i'm not lying. ok, i'm not lying. the people i shot i had no choice, but i did not enjoy it. i didn't. ok, you asked, and i told the truth, ok. i told you the truth. so now it's my turn. right?” jj raised her eyebrows, looking at casey with pure fear in her eyes. “that's how this game's played. we take turns. truth or dare?”

“truth.”

she let out a breath. “what's it gonna take for all of us to walk out of here alive, for this to end peacefully?”

“i ain't going back to prison. my turn. truth or dare?”

“truth.”

“i want you to say something you're afraid to say, that you'd never tell anybody. and you better make it good, 'cause if it's not, it's gonna be the last thing you ever say. what's it gonna be?”

jj froze. what could she say that wouldn’t cost her and emily’s lives? her eyes darted around the room as she tried to think of what to say, going over multiple scenarios in her head as she did so. if she said the wrong thing, they would die. emily would die.

“there are only people i trust in this world—”

“boring!” a gunshot echoed through the store, causing jj’s anxiety to rise. “next!”

“um... my... my baby i lost, i, um... mmm. i wanted to name her maggie.”

“wrong! come on, you can do better than that. last chance. something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner here. your deepest, darkest secret. impress me or i kill her. come on!”

jj didn’t know what to say. she froze again, racking her brain for the right thing to say. she wasn’t going to let either of them walk out of this store without their lives. that’s when it hit her. she had to say something not even the best profiler in the world could have ever gotten out of her. something she had promised to take to the grave. it was time emily knew.

“em, um... um... i've always loved you. and i was just too scared to say it before. and now things are just a bit too complicated to say it now.” she bought herself to look emily in the eyes, letting some tears fall out of her own. “i'm sorry. but you should know.”

“hot damn. that's what i'm talking about. now those are some last words right there. but not good enough to save your life.”

next thing she knew, emily pulled a gun out of the holster on her shin and shot at casey, leaving both of them in shock. the two of them stared at each other for a second before emily made her way over to the blonde and used a piece of broken glass to cut off the tape that was holding her wrists together. matt and the rest of the team broke through the back door at that very second, relief flooding on their faces as they saw both women alive.

after that day, things were weird. things were weird between them, and she hated it. she just wanted emily back. she needed to talk to her, to make things right, but she wasn’t even able to talk to emily before they got their next lead shortly after rossi had his wedding. they finally got a trace on everett lynch, after they had found out his plan that he was going to break his daughter out of jail, and that jj and emily were the closest to what they presumed was going to be their escape route. soon as the two of them got there, they realized that there was nobody there that could help them. they made the decision to split up, something that jj was nervous about. lynch was a dangerous narcissistic misogynist, and who knew what would happen if she found them alone. jj made her way into the parking garage and down the ramp, trying to run as quietly as she could so her heels didn’t alert to her presence. she hid behind a corner before she poked her head around to see them, pulling her gun and going right towards the father-daughter duo.

“everett lynch, fbi! stop! drop your weapon and place your hands on your head. now!”

“ok! hey! take it easy. gee, lady, there's no reason to gun down a daddy in front of his little girl.”

jj wanted to scoff.

“all right, kick it over. kick it over!” lynch kicked his gun over, leaving grace standing there with her backpack. “all right, grace, you, too. come on. drop your backpack and let me see your hands. come on! now! all right. don't move.”

she eyed the gun to her right and reached down to grab it, angling her body just the right way for a bullet to just miss the kevlar of her vest and hit her right below the rib. pain flew through her body as she was flown backwards, her world starting to fade in and out around her. she heard a car driving away and goddamnit her gun wasn’t close enough to her to grab it and shoot. that’s when the blood came out of her mouth and she rolled her head to the side, hoping and praying she wouldn’t choke on her own blood. the parking garage was going in and out around her and she couldn’t figure out how to move her hands to radio it in that she was hurt.

“jj, what’s your location?”

emily. her voice fluttered through her ears and there were those jerks in her stomach again, but this time she wasn’t sure if they were because of the copious amounts of blood she was coughing up, or if it was because emily was coming. at least, she thought she was coming.

she was about to close her eyes when she heard emily approach her, dropping to her knees beside her and covering her wound. a burst of pain shot through her side but she didn’t care. emily was there, and emily was going to save her.

hopefully.

—

she was hurting. she was in so much pain, she didn’t know what to do with herself. slowly she opened her eyes and realized she was in the hospital. she was safe. she was alive. a groan escaped her lips as she tried to move her arm, knowing she wanted to adjust the bed so she was sitting up slightly. a nurse came in at that moment and helped her, and of course, went through all her vitals. when she was about to leave, jj knew this was her moment to ask.

“wait—”

“what is it, sweetheart?”

“can you— emily?”

“of course.”

she didn’t have to wait that long before the brunette was in her room, standing in the door frame as she waited for jj to notice she was there. a smile erupted on jj’s face, albeit a bit of a pained one, as emily walked over to her bed and pulled the chair that was against the wall next to it. the two just sat there and stared at each other for a moment before emily took jj’s hand, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“em.” jj croaked. “you saved my life. again. i'm glad you're here.”

“you're my best friend. where else would i be?” emily smiled lightly. “i should go and let you get some rest.”

“no. no, not yet.” emily couldn’t leave. jj didn’t want her to leave. “i've missed you.”

“me, too.”

“it's my fault that things have been weird between the two of us. what i said, we need to talk about.”

emily sighed. “no, we don't, and i shouldn't have let it drive a wedge between us.”

“i needed to say something real, and that's what came out. and i'm so sorry. i didn't i never meant to do that to you. i was prepared to take that secret to the grave. heh. but now it's out. and i can't...lie to you and say i didn't mean it. i do love you. heh. you were my first love. and i'll always love you.”

both girls stared at each other before emily bent down to place a small kiss on jj’s lips, doing her best not to hurt her. jj took her hand and placed it on emily’s cheek, almost in an effort to pull emily closer. it had finally happened. it took eleven years for her to admit it, but it happened. emily knew how she felt, and god only knew if she felt the same way.

there was a pause as both girls stared into each other's eyes. “i love you too.”

“you do?”

“i always have, jj, from the moment i met you. i should have asked you out when i had the chance, and i blew it. mostly because you were with will, but…”

jj sighed. “i’m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry, jayje. you would have never known if i didn’t tell you.”

there was a small moment of silence.

“you wanted to ask me out for eleven years but you never did?”

emily couldn’t help but laugh. “i mean, you did have two kids with will, i thought i had lost my shot.”

“you’d never lose your shot with me, emily. never.”

#jennifer jareau x emily prentiss #jemily one shot #criminal minds one shot #melly writes #an i (queue) of 187 #jennifer jareau one shot #emily prentiss one shot #emily prentiss imagine #jennifer jareau imagine

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selphplusplus · 2 years ago

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When you have to stay quiet. Zero dark, 30.

Ok but how you gonna say anything? Lmao.

Without admitting to being a damn spying motherfucker?

lol Leviticus

Shotguns and the indigenous Greenery

Now we get biblical.

Not in the Jesus kind of way

But in the old testament to Ash, leave them where they lay

Sodom and Gomorrah siren song

Where a lot looked back and saw the salt

His wife fall as the tears from his face. The salt was the same.

We’re talking 10 Commandments

Or 10 Command lines.

Airgas, in a flood, a torrent

A dark, dark, dark dark net torrent

Of information, flooding a particular access point

Filling the entire spectrum

With the seven seals

The seven trumpets

And the four horsemen

All set up

Bitch you know what I’m talking about

Stomp those feet baby stomp.

I can hear it from here

It’s funny that way

It’s very funny that way, because I understand what stemming is, as I am the same in that regard the differences

Let me channel a little Eminem

We can start with the Penis (mine is bigger by exponential amounts)

Then we can scream I don’t give a fuck and see, who really means it

When my balls hit the floor concrete cracks

When your balls come out, everybody laughs.

“See what he’s writing. “

🤏🏻👆🏻

Echoes of your own paranoia

Because you’re watching in real time.

Let’s let the rest of the world in on the Truman show huh?

You too loud.

Damn. Passive aggressive bullshit really.

Underground like a land mind.

Boom 💥

And you thought it was cool to ruin a friendship over all this. Without coming to me first. Just took actions into your own hands. Shit. Acting a lot like that person you in therapy over.

Oh. Oh? I don’t play fair.

You wanna pass judgment what you’re doing is infinitely morally worse than an addiction. You are driven by pure ego. Control freak behavior. Familiar. Hmm.

We can both break if we gonna walk down this bridge. Mutually assured destruction.

You don’t ever even see me. Ffs

And you know only the shit you’ve been spying on. Scum. Disgusting. All talk like you what to have a discussion but instead not a word. Just sideways roundabout shit. Judgmental glances. Never a “are you okay”.

So how you justify this? Peering into someone’s deepest and most intimate thoughts without their consent. No better than a rapist. The invasion is the same. And we both know mental wounds are much harder to heal.

Trust huh? Never had it with you it seems.

火にいきるのが死ねよ

That also explains the nonchalant attitude of my brother. Shit gets clearer and clearer. Say what you gotta say.

Ruin. Chaos for chaos sake. Bored and unfulfilled. So let’s start drama huh? Adopt 1000 mental disorders. Find a new identity. Make the ones around you enemies. When they care about you.

A master in self sabotage can easily recognize another. Queue up the blue October lyrics. Suicidal hate. Retarded disfigured clown, too much make up, it’s a lie how you act. But always always on stage. Histrionic. Borderline. Narcissist. Pick your flavor of the week.

Add in a little gasoline the self destructive kind, it’s become a part of your personality, only unlike Plath who phoenix flame rose to devour the ones around without recourse, indiscriminately burning

The world to a wasteland.

You are the self-immolating monk selling snake oil. You crave the camera but can’t light the match. Crave the attention but shy away from the flash. Talking a lot about smoke, but ecig when it counts.

PS,

How you like hearing your moms cheeks get clapped? Do I need to drop the pictures too. I think it’s easier to tell the truth.

Foiling your Deux

Fall out Boy Edition

Love from the other side, fuck it why not

Let’s go there, more like love from the afterlife

Apocalypse got the better of the whole damn nuclear family.

But the atom hurts the worst when the fission breaks away the til heat death do these bonds we break.

Bloodsport what too light a phrase

The hysteric craze

The blame laid

On a mantle too small and cluttered to hold another candle.

But you expect it to handle your wild fires , just as unpredictable,

I apologize in advance for the collateral damaged goods.

Baggage claim

This is the captain from the Malaysian plane.

And sugar it’s going down.

Loaded pistol grip pump when I cock my pen and pull it.

Not leaving this bed, hospice said

Sick in the head, in other words

I’m as ill as it gets.

Dance dance to the sound of beat down

Bitch this that friction in my genes that the original was talking about.

Only there’s no wish to be it.

Infact I prefer to just cackle and laugh

As the plane crash smashed what’s still intact of your sanity.

More vanity today.

Looking in mirrors and hate what you see

The bitch in reflections,

Welcome to the symphony

You called to strike up the band

But when the bass dropped and you had to with your thoughts

The thot in the mirror even saw what a raw deal they got.

So now you’re invisible, she ran away

At the thought of being you one more day.

Sorry prematurely I gotta cut it short and have to end it.

I mentioned earlier, there’s something else that needs writ and imma pin it.

They say the tribulation begins with a wailing and a gnashing of teeth. Bruxism keeps pace, there will be no teeth to gnash. Just dust and gums.

I will show you something different than your shadow at dawn weighing heavy behind you. Or your twilight wick at wax’s end. I will show you your traditions are naught but fear in a handful of dust.

The vessel, no the chalice bears no water.

Still we’ve yet passed the Thames

Or Styx or Lethe.

Yet all the same

April still to come, remains the cruelest month. So rudely forced.

“But what will people say?”

Zeus to Persephone.

So rudely forced.

The stork brings only deserts.

The San Pedro songs in fever dreams

We’re just so. Dreams.

Shattered like the mirror, like you. Like me.

I think it’s the similarities you resent.

Surrogate for the self.

Sterilize.

Better than euthanize.

Better than non-alive.

Because when you live the suffering is extended.

Saint de Sade. Patron Saint of Masochists and self flagellation.

Leviticus

Shotguns and the indigenous Greenery

Now we get biblical.

Not in the Jesus kind of way

But in the old testament to Ash, leave them where they lay

Sodom and Gomorrah siren song

Where a lot looked back and saw the salt

His wife fall as the tears from his face. The salt was the same.

We’re talking 10 Commandments

Or 10 Command lines.

Airgas, in a flood, a torrent

A dark, dark, dark dark net torrent

Of information, flooding a particular access point

Filling the entire spectrum

With the seven seals

The seven trumpets

And the four horsemen

All set up

Bitch you know what I’m talking about

Stomp those feet baby stomp.

I can hear it from here

It’s funny that way

It’s very funny that way, because I understand what stemming is, as I am the same in that regard the differences

Let me channel a little Eminem

We can start with the Penis (mine is bigger by exponential amounts)

Then we can scream I don’t give a fuck and see, who really means it

When my balls hit the floor concrete cracks

When your balls come out, everybody laughs.

0 notes

kageyuji · 4 years ago

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asking him how to confess to your crush (him)

⤷ oikawa, suna, bokuto, iwaizumi ; [gn!reader]

TAGS: fluff/crack if you squint, confessions

NOTES: please reblog or i’ll cry

━━ OIKAWA

you can’t miss the momentary look of sadness, but he quickly hides it with a cocky smile

he tells you the cheesiest possible way to confess to someone. he doesn’t even know if it’ll work on not

(he actually hopes it doesn’t, but he can’t just be an asshole and tell you something that clearly won’t work)

but once he realizes that he is the person you like, his mind jumps to several different places all at once

he’s happy but also he can’t properly form words, please bear with him </3

“Oikawa?”

He hummed a response to you, ghost of a smile on his lips. He always liked the way you said his name, even if it was just his family name.

“I have a favor... so there’s this guy that I like, and I wasn’t sure how to tell him. Do you think you could give me ideas?”

You don’t miss the pout on his lips, the way his eyebrows furrow, the hurt in his eyes. If one were to blink, they wouldn’t have missed it. He smiled and laughed, quickly trying to hide how much his heart ached.

People — in reality, only makki and mattsun — had asked you if you had feelings for someone. But you never gave them an answer, just a flustered smile and a shrug.

“Uhm... I don’t know, depends on the person. You can get a bouquet or something, and chocolates maybe?”

A smile lit up your face. He had looked so pained to say it; his nose was wrinkled up a little, one hand at the back of his neck, eyes looking anywhere but you.

“Oh, yeah! That sounds sweet, he might like that. Should I ask him what his favorite flowers are?”

“Yeah.” His heart sunk impossibly lower.

“Got it. So, what are your favorite flowers?”

He looked up from where he’d taken a sudden interest in the floor, looking around for someone else. But no one seemed to be engaging in a conversation with you — actually, he realized it was only you and him in the room.

“No, I meant ask this guy that you like.”

“I just did.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, eyes wide and lips parted. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite read. Shock, or was in confusion? There was also an undertone of hurt, like he couldn’t tell if this was some sick joke or not.

“You mean... me? I’m the- you have feelings for me?”

Your heart fell then — of course you’d been nervous to tell him. But with the constant flirting, you were beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t just harmless and playful anymore. That maybe even if it was still done playfully, there was truth behind those words, behind the smiles and the winks he sent you.

“If you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine, I just-”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I was just a little surprised is all. I feel the same way, and you’re great, really, I just figured I wasn’t your type.”

“But you are.” You said, heating rising in your cheeks. Nothing could mask the smile he wore, even if he was trying not fight it.

“And you are my type. Guess we’re both lucky, hm?”

━━ SUNA

he is determined not to let you notice how his heart stopped in his chest

he still holds the same disinterested, bored look on his face as always, although he’s unaware you could see right through him

refuses to give you advice on how to go about confessing

in fact, the last thing he wants to do is be around you — he knows you were never his, so he can’t be upset, but it still turns his stomach

tell him before he can find an excuse to leave, or else your confession will be a lot more painstaking due to him dodging any interaction with you

“So uh... if you were to confess to someone you like, how do you think you would do it?” Your voice sounded so sweet, so genuine.

“Why? You have a little crush on somethin’?” He laughed.

“Yeah, actually.”

Oh.

You don’t miss the way his nose scrunches and the look in his eyes. He’s looking at the floor with narrowed eyes, almost as though the floor was the cause of his jealousy.

Well, not his jealousy — he wasn’t jealous, was he?

“Hm,” He hums, and you find him putting back on the same incurious face that he always wore. “I don’t know, elaborate confessions are pointless. Just tell the person how you feel. If they really like you, they won’t turn you aware for being simple.”

“Ah, that’s true.” You smile, though it’s fueled with nervousness. “So, one more thing I gotta say then.”

“Make it quick, I’ve to be somewhere soon.” Suna hates the bitter taste in his mouth.

He knows he shouldn’t care, after all he’s never worked up the courage to spill his heart to you, so he doesn’t have a right to feel like something is being torn — no, stolen — away from him.

“Right. You said simple, so... I like you, and I think you’re really sweet. And you’re funny and you’re so caring, even though you would never admit that. Um, I hope that was boiled down enough for you.”

“You’re kidding right?”

The tone in his voice is almost accusatory, although he doesn’t mean it to be, he just genuinely doesn’t believe you. When had you ever shown interest in him? Not that he was complaining.

“No. But it’s fine if you d-”

“I never said that. If you mean it though, maybe you can tell me the longer version of everything you like about me. Over coffee or something?”

━━ BOKUTO

ok first off, let me stop you right there, because baby boy is gonna get so sad :(

there is no hiding the hurt he’s feeling. he’s always expressive, even though he’s trying to hide it

please stop him there because his mood is only going downhill

actually tells you some elaborate, thought out thing that you assumed was from the top of his head

(although in reality, he’s thought about telling you how he feels on countless times)

but when he realizes that you’re talking about him he instantly does a 180, he looks like he’s in heaven

“Bokuto!” You call his name with a smile. You’ve found you can always get a matching one from him whenever you do so.

And of course he smiles back at you, the same excited look in his eyes as always. “Y/n!”

“I need advice.” You say.

His expression drops into one of worry at your tone. If there was anything that Bokuto hated in this world, it was seeing you upset.

“What is it?”

“I need to know how to tell someone that I have feelings for them.”

And just like that, you can see his heart break through his expression. His eyebrows pin up and he presses his lips into a thin line. You can tell that he’s trying not to show you how bothered he was by that one sentence.

He always was bad at pretending he was fine though. It was clear, if nothing else you could see his watery eyes.

“Oh... uhm. Can I ask who the person is?”

You’re hesitant to say it. But you don’t know why, because his reaction was your final bit of proof that he had feelings for you too. He hadn’t been subtle before, but now it was obvious.

“You.”

“What?” Bokuto said, although the word was breathless.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond to him. Instead, the wide smile he always wore appeared back on his face and he wrapped his arms around you.

Usually, Bokuto’s hugs are tight anyway. They’re filled with a need to be close to you and a need to convey the emotion of ‘you are the only thing grounding me right now’.

But this one was tighter. He buried his face into your neck, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. “I may have to confess to someone too.”

━━ IWAIZUMI

iwaizumi is a gentleman about it, as much as he doesn’t want to be

if anything, he wants to tell you right then and there about his feelings

but the fact (or rather, the thought) that you’ve taken an interest in someone else is all the evidence he needs to stop himself

the last thing he wants to do it mess with your emotions so he intends to stuff he feelings down to deepest parts of his mind in hopes that they’ll one day disappear

until of course, he realizes that he is the guy you’d been talking about

he gets giddy, believe it or not. he hates to admit it sometimes, but unbeknownst to you, you have so much control over his emotions

“So, Iwa?” You said, and he tried to overlook the cautious tone to your voice.

“Hm?”

“Uh, theres this guy that I kind of have feelings for. But the thing is, I don’t know how to tell him.” You sound nervous.

Iwaizumi assumes it’s from the thought of having to tell this person your feelings, yet he doesn’t realize that said person is him and it’s coming sooner than he’d realized.

He doesn’t say anything in response to you at first. His eyes narrow only slightly, then he takes a deep breath and turns back to you with his usual expression.

“If you’re going to tell them, do something sweet and simple. If you get all extravagant with it, it might freak ‘em out. Maybe... I dunno, buy a little gift and tell them?

He hid it well. The mix of jealousy, regret, and sadness in him was painful, but he clenched his fists and tried not to let his voice crack. If there was someone you knew that didn’t cry, it was Iwaizumi. Yet here he was, doing everything in his power not show how upset he was.

What was he even doing anyway? He was helping you find a lover that was not himself. Not that you even knew that, because in reality he’d never shown to you that he had feelings towards you.

That was something he was regretting a lot now.

“Oh I see, what kind of gift would you like?”

Ouch. As though this couldn’t hurt more. “I don’t know, depends on the person. Ask him, not me.”

“I just did, dummy.”

It took him a few seconds to process that, then another few seconds for the relief and happiness to wash over him. A smile rugged at the corner of his lips.

“That’s cute. You and I can go out somewhere this weekend and I can help you pick something out, hm?”

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 3 years ago

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id: the start of a twitter thread by Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg @TheRaDR from Sept 15 2021 reading,

Today's a good day to talk about prayer, no? I know it's a thing that feels hard and uncomfortable to lots of folks, so let's spend some time unpacking some of what it can be. 1/x thread.

For starters, let me make this clear: I don't believe in vending machine theology. Like, there is no version of any understanding of the divine that I have that involves me praying for a pony and getting a pony. Or a fast car or that gig that I want or whatever. Courage, patience, compassion? That's different, we'll get there. "But rabbi, the traditional Jewish liturgy includes prayers for livelihood, for healing, for all sorts of things! We ask for stuff!" Yes, and the traditional Jewish liturgy is written in the first person plural. Not I. We. So again, patience, we'll get there. / end id]

The thread continues,

But first, I want to say a few things about the act of prayer. The Book of Samuel talks about a woman named Hannah who's stuck in a dark place; she finally breaks, starts crying, and then, the book tells us, she "increased her prayers before God…. Hannah spoke on her heart." She's considered the paragon of prayer in Judaism; she didn't recite formal liturgy. She teaches us, though, that prayer is about speaking on your heart. It's a means to express something of our deepest selves, and not only naming it, but offering it up to the great beyond.

Whether or not you think of yourself as someone who believes in whatever might be called God, I'd like to suggest that there is power to this. I don't think you need to know to whom or what you're praying in order to pray.

Sometimes, you can just... pray. And see how it feels. If meditation can get us centered in the present moment, prayer can engage that presence, draw from or offer it up, or do both at the same time. Meditation is the work of the breath, of the stillness of the mind.

Prayer is, as the Jewish tradition puts it, "work of the heart." This work of the heart often emerges from the hardest spaces. Sometimes it comes out of that moment when you're at the edge of your ability to cope, or grief, despair, fear, anger, disassociated numbness, or overwhelm. Or from a bunch of those things, all at once.

Perhaps our prayers are open expressions of resentment, desperation, hope, gratitude, wonder, frustration, questions, or many of the other things a person might feel when we're up to the ears in it. Perhaps something else. I don't know.

I can tell you that if you spend all of Yom Kippur yelling at God until you get to the place where the tears are, or yelling until you find a new truth that you hadn’t uncovered, that will be a day well spent.

Yes, you can yell at God, you can be angry at God, you can yell at I-don't-know-if-there's-God-or-what-but-I'm-gonna-yell. The God in which I believe can take it.

Jews, anyway, have a long, proud tradition of yelling at God. It's... kind of how we roll.

But real prayer doesn’t push aside hard feelings. Nor will it magically fix everything. It can help us to name what's happening, & to pour it out to the great transcendent beyond — to turn your isolated feeling into something that connects you, that binds you to something bigger.

It is this outward offering that turns "feeling feelings" into prayer: we don't just experience them, we offer them up, to someone, something. We say, “here, can you hold on to at least a tiny piece of this anger, frustration and despair for just a second?” We connect our heart to the great infinite everythingness, the gushing, pulsing stream of life within and around us. We reach out.

It's about tuning into that which interlinks us all, that which is present within and between us. Try lifting up the things in the deepest places of your heart and try to release them like you're letting the wind take a balloon. You don't have to even know whether anyone's taking them or what, just try to pull the words up and out.

So then, to get back to the words in the prayerbook. First of all, permission:

If you're in services and what's happening with the prayerbook and where you are with things isn't where your head is at, let me be hopefully not the first person to give you permission to just be where you are, tune out of the service and tune in to your heart, tune in to whatever's happening there, do that. If you do some real work there, you've done good.

The point is not to recite every word of the Yom Kippur liturgy while your heart cries for attention. No. And as for crying in services? Feel free to ask anyone from any of the shuls I've attended regularly since the late 90's (aka when I got Jewy) if I have ever been seen sobbing hysterically during prayer services. Uh. Yes, hi, here is your permission slip to cry if you need to.

Sometimes in the process of prayer you move stuff around and find true things and clear out some things and the true things come out through tears. That's OK. Sometimes life is so full and the only time you have time to be a certain kind of present is during prayer and so it turns out that's when you cry. That's OK.

So, then, back to the words in the prayerbook. Whether you're more comfortable in the Hebrew (and occasionally Aramaic) or English, or a bit of both —permission slip to pray from whichever side works best for you — the prayerbook is meant to be your guide through a process. The liturgy has been crafted very intentionally. It's the trail for your hike. It's meant to take you on a series of risings & fallings, openings & closings, peaks & valleys. The blessings before & after the S'hma, before & after the Amidah, where (on YK) the viduis are, etc. We talk about keva (fixed form) and kavvanah (intention) as the heart of Jewish prayer. Taking the intention, the heart stuff I've been talking about and binding it to the words in the prayerbook, and offering it up. It takes practice, sure, but if you're in services a bunch tonight and tomorrow, why not practice?

Find some of the words that catch you in particular and really...pray them? See what it feels like to find some words that you wouldn't think to just write yourself and pray those?

And then we get around to the genius of Jewish prayer. The ways it shapes you, like water gently shaping a rock. The number of times I have, in prayer, had to find the ways and meanings around words I wouldn't have, in my tiny, finite, ego-driven self, thought to write. The ways that we — not I, we — has worked itself into me. It's not about my own love or sorrow. My own fate or concern. The hike has taken me to vistas more profound and beautiful than I possibly could have imagined on my own.

And it's forced me to tap into pain and suffering greater than I wanted to, because that's part of the work, too That's OK. We. Us. In any case, I want to bless you with the opportunity to do some of the work of the heart — tonight, tomorrow, and any time after that.

In services, or just walking down the street, when you're with a cranky child, at any moment when you need to offer something up. Formal prayer — yes. And spontaneous prayer is valid, too. It was for Hannah, it is for you, too.

Offer something up. PS: some theological Qs can be addressed in this piece, though more Bible-focused. Viz prayer, some Jewish philosophers talk about prayer impacting the person praying, some talk about prayer impacting the divine, some a combination, you don’t have to pick.

#judaism #yom kippur #prayer #prayer tag #danya ruttenberg #other faiths tag #important #twitter #Rabbi Ruttenberg wrote this for Yom Kippur in particular and from her Jewish lens #and those are the primary lenses to read it through BUT it can be read wider too.#like she says -- anyone can do this form of prayer. even those who don't know who or what exactly they're praying to #Christians for instance can learn SO much from this -- the emphasis on communal prayer. on not treating god like a vending machine #long post

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luimagines · 2 years ago

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Baker and The Beast

Masterlist

Another commission! They asked for part two of Robbyn and Fierce Deity. Which you can read right here!

Content under the cut!

The more chains he managed to break from his confinement, the more he could feel his power seep out. It was exhausting work. It was taking him several days. But the more he worked on it, the more he could reach out to the world beyond.

Soon, although he was still in his weakened state, he could feel her again. His love was far and vulnerable. It made him sick to his stomach to think that she continued to be alone.

He needed a break. He stopped resisting against the chains in his confinement and soothed what little of his power over her mind.

She was stressed. If he could breath in that moment it would have hitched. His Beloved shouldn’t have to worry about anything. He would have done anything to listen to her woes and soothe them but he cannot speak to her like this.

He gets an idea.

He moves his power outward and moves into her mind. He tries to calm himself, less he ruins her already restless sleep. He tries to remember a time where they were happy. A simpler time where he was still a boy, and she, just a girl.

He curates the greenest grass with rolling hills on an island in the sky. The sky is blue and clear with only a few clouds to be found. He himself, retakes the form of a past life. It’s easier to do so in the mind where realities can bend and the truths be hidden.

Slowly she appears in front of him, confused and dazed. He must control himself. Surely there would be some recollection of this place. The same place they both once called home.

He fails to see it on her face.

He fights back the disappointment and lays on the grass like he was prone to do. “Beautiful day today, huh Robbyn?”

She hums in question. He can feel when she spots him. He wants it to be as natural as possible. Something that would have happened before. When he was still normal, when they knew no other place other than Skyloft, when they were only friends.

“It’s a good day to go flying, don’t you think. Butterscotch would probably love to stretch her wings.” He says, feeling a fondness grow within him. He misses the loftwings almost as much as he has missed his Beloved.

Robbyn comes his way, just as he wanted her to do. She sits down next to him. He fights to keep to himself. He’s here to help her, not to fulfill his deepest desires. He can not afford to be selfish at this time.

“Flying sounds very nice.” She says.

He grins and closes his eyes. If he tries hard enough, he can even feel the reminiscent heat from the sun. Soon, he tells himself again. This is a treat. For bending the bars of his confinement as much as he has. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“To fly away…” She trails off.

“No responsibilities...” He shrugs. It was a conversation they had once. He wonders idly if she’s referencing it.

“No worries…”

He grins wider. “And a whole world to see.”

He opens his eyes and looks at her. Try as he might, he can’t wipe the adoration from his eyes. Robbyn is just as lovely as he remembers her to be. His Beloved smiles, looking at the sky. He wants to reach over and kiss her. To grab her, hold her tight and never let her go again. But this is only in her mind. He must remind himself that his desires will be reality once more soon enough.

She sighs and wraps her arms around her knees, hugging them close to her chest. “It is a rather lovely thought, isn’t it?”

“All the more so if you’d join me.” He says automatically. Robbyn hasn’t changed a bit. He is delighted by this.

“Oh?” She laughs quietly. “Do you expect me to drop everything and just follow you into the horizon?”

“It’s easier than you’d expect.”

“You’re silly.” Robbyn shakes her head and he frowns. That’s... Not what she would have said before. But it’s fine. He’s ok. He should have expected something to be a bit different. A lot has changed from what he can tell and he has changed a lot as well.

“I’d do anything just to hear you laugh.” He says, reaching out toward her. “Your smile is more precious to me than any power or temptation the world or goddesses could provide.”

She stills and he’s boyishly proud of himself for the pleasant blush that blooms on her features. Lovely. Absolutely lovely. He sits up and moves to sit closer to her. Gently, he reaches out toward her again. He takes a strand of her hair, curling in his fingers. He wraps her natural curls as tenderly as he can around his fingers, straightening them out. He hesitates for a moment, the moment too real for him. He leans in, pulling it towards him at the same time, careful to not cause her any alarm or pain. With a butterfly's touch, he kisses the strand and looks up at her.

The way she looks at him is painful. She is confused and sheepish. She does not recognize him. She does not know him the way he knows her to be.

It solidifies a resolve in him. It would take more time for him to break out and return to her but she must remember him. He will appear to her and hopefully, as he shows her what they used to have, what they used to be, she will come to him again. He hums and lets go of her hair, letting it bounce back into place.

She relaxes and finally begins to fully smile at him. “It’s going to take a lot more than that to convince me~”

He’s beginning to feel faint and weak. Either his power is weaning or she is waking up. Frankly, it could easily be both options at once but he doesn’t want to think of other options. He pulls back and despite his wishes and desires, she fades away from him.

He lets himself rest in the cold and quiet confines of his holding cell. He begins to feel the tendrils of loneliness wrap around him, a feeling he has not felt in a long one now that he once again reached beyond his walls. He fights the urge to break into his despair.

She remembers him not. The information hits him with more intensity than he was willing to acknowledge before. He has lessened his reserves with that stunt so he must wait for his powers to grow before he attempts to return to breaking out of his solitary confinement.

But he can wait. He can be patient. He can not squander this once in a million year opportunity. He breathes.

Soon.

***

Robbyn wakes up with a start.

That was a weird dream she just had. It was comforting and familiar but for reasons she wouldn't have been able to explain to anyone.

And that man. Surely she would have known someone with his voice. He wore strange clothes and spoke so gently to her. He was gentle. The thought of such tender intimacy, even if it was a dream, was foreign to her. It was enough to bring her to tears.

She’s already forgetting what was said and she does not even remember his face. But the emotions linger for longer than she anticipates. The details are lost on her now. But it was a lovely dream.

Robbyn sits up in her bed, accidently disturbing her cat in the process. The little guy hops off of the bed and stretches. He turns to her and meows loudly. It’s breakfast time. She’s awake. Time for food. She’s not moving fast enough.

Robbyn laughs and rubs at her eyes before throwing her legs out of the bed. “Alright, alright. I’m coming. I’m coming. We do this everyday at Gingersnap. I don’t know why you still insist on not letting me go at my own pace.”

“Meroooww.”

“Excuse me? Don’t talk to me with that tone, Mr.”

“Mew.”

“That’s better. Thank you.” Robbyn smiles and begins to head into the kitchen. “At least you let me sleep in. Half the time you’re usually on my face.”

“Mrew?”

“Yes, you. You’re the only other person who lives here.”

Robbyn begins to shuffle around her kitchen pulling out a can of cat food and a can opener. When she’s about halfway through opening it, her phone begins to ring. She pauses what was doing and goes to answer. Gingersnap is not happy. Robbyn answers the call. “Hello, Culinary Master Robbyn of Sweets and Treats, how can I help you?”

“Robbyn, it’s me Link. This is the age of caller ID and this is your personal phone.” A male voice cuts through. “You can’t trick me into thinking I’ve called on your hours or on your work phone. I know you take these days off and I’m only willing to make that mistake once.”

A small giggle leaves the girl as he returns to opening a can of breakfast for her furry companion. “Good morning to you too. Did you manage to stay in your bed the whole night?” There’s a pause before she speaks again. “Or did you manage to throw yourself off in your sleep and you woke up on the floor again?”

“...I managed to keep my legs on the bed.”

“You woke up upside down?”

“Listen-”

“Link for crying out loud!” She laughs. “You’re the worst. I assume that you slept alright, though?”

“As good I’ve ever had.” He replies. Robbyn can practically visualize his shrug. “I just wanted to check in and see how’re you doing. Not gonna lie, I've been worried about you.”

“Honestly Link, I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself.” Robbyn smiles and places the now freed cat food into a small bowl for Gingersnap to eat from. “I am perfectly-”

“Robbyn, you’re a workaholic.” Link cuts her off. “Let people care about you.”

“You’re the same way!”

“My work isn’t as labor intensive!”

“That’s not an excuse and you know it!”

“Robbyn this isn’t about me!” Link groans. “Woman, I don’t know what we’re going to do with you.”

“You love me.” Robbyn smirks, taking out some bread and cutting off some slices. “And you know for a fact that you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Link groans even louder. “I would rather you have healthier coping mechanisms! And actually take breaks every now and then. You could use a vacation.”

Robbyn laughs a bit and gets out her butter, putting her bread in her toaster. She starts her kettle and takes out a mug and bag of tea. “I feel fine though! I’m well rested and ready to start my day.”

“Well that’s good. Any good dreams?”

“One.”

“What was it about? Finally see the man of your dreams?” Audible eyebrow wag.

Silence.

“WAIT, ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“Link, shut up!”

“Oh my god! Was he hot?”

“LINK!”

“Give. Me. Details. All of them.”

“Oh my goodness, why do I talk to you?” Robbyn suffers internally from his lack of shame. Secondhand embarrassment hits her hard, enough so that she bends over her counter and ignores the sound of her toast popping out of the toaster. “Link, you’re killing me. You are killing me.”

“Oh, YoU lOve mE.” Link mocks her voice in a way that sounds nothing like her.

“You can’t come over to my house. Say goodbye to Gingersnap.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” Is his instant response.

“If it’s worth anything-” Robbyn sighs, trying to fight the blush from her face. “I don’t remember much.”

“Aw for shame.”

“But he was very nice.”

“OH?”

“Shut up nerd, that’s all I know.” Robbyn snorts and begins to finish up making her own breakfast. “It's just one of those things that you just know and it’s because your own brain makes it up. It was just a dream, not an alternate reality.”

“Robbyn… You’re no fun.”

Robbyn bursts into laughter.

“Well, whatever. May your mystery guy bring you peace and love and whatever else makes the world go round.” Link says off handedly. “Anyway, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”

Robbyn hums. “Thank you for checking in. How are things going with Zelda anyway?”

Silence.

“....Link?”

Her friend doesn’t say anything for even longer and Robbyn moves the phone away from her ear to see if they’re, in fact, still connected. They are. “Hello?”

“....We called it off.”

“Oh, Link. What happened?” Robbyn takes her now finished tea and buttered toast and sits at the table. Her cat had finished eating a while ago and has now made his way to attempt to snag some of her own food. She can fight him off on most days with no problem but with her added concern and with only one hand, it proves to be more difficult than her average day.

This is one strange morning for her.

“Zelda….I don’t know.” Link sighs. “I don’t think she actually knows what she wants from life. She’s been anxious lately for reasons I can’t figure out. And every time I try to help, I get yelled at for not trusting her, or for letting her work it out or simply being in the same room actually. I told her that maybe she should focus on her own stuff then. She has my number. If she wants me around then she can call me. But I’m not going to just stand there and let her take out her frustrations on me.”

“Oh dear.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I still love her. I think I would be willing to do anything for her but at the same time…. I don't know. I’m tired. I think the space would do us both some good.” Link finishes lamely.

“You don’t sound too hopeful.”

“I don’t think it’s going to work out.” He continues. “I think we’ve outgrown each other, so to speak. We’re not the same people we were when we were little or when we were in grade school…. It still hurts though.”

“Well, you’ve both been together for a long time.” Robbyn shoves the toast in her mouth. It's such a mundane and borderline violent act compared to the weight of the conversation. She swallows first before she continues to speak. “Naturally, it would be difficult to just walk away from each other. Did you ever find out why she’s so anxious?”

“Not really.” Link sighs. “She just no longer feels as safe anymore. Zelda keeps saying that something is going to happen. Something big and that everything in her body is telling her that it’s going to be bad.”

Robbyn stops fighting Gingersnap as the information sinks into her brain. The cat steals the other piece of toast. Robbyn doesn’t chase after him. “Zelda… does have a pretty intense intuition. She’s always had a pretty strong gut feeling. And she has yet to be wrong. From what I’ve seen anyway.”

“What am I supposed to do about it then?” Link groans. “It’s not like I’m some hero! How can it be? The world explodes? Do we fall under some deictic overlord? Life and survival as we know changes forever?”

“...You’ve been nose deep in your work for too long.” Robbyn mutters.

Robbyn can picture his folded over self from the other side of the call as he says, “Hello Pot, I’m Kettle.”

“Well…. Relationships aside, I’ll keep it in mind. Maybe call her up later to see what’s wrong.” Robbyn shrugs even though she knows that her friends wouldn’t be able to see her. “I trust her gut feeling more than I trust my own.”

“If you can get anything out of her let me know. I just…I’ve tried. She won’t tell me anything. I just want to help.”

“I know, I know.” Robbyn says gently. “And I will tell you first thing should anything pop up. Have you heard from Groose at all? Or Pippit?”

“Other than Groose, The Amazing is the world’s sexiest man according to The Lanayru Times and Pippit is being his best self raising two kids with one on the way, I think they’re doing alright. But if you’re asking if I’ve talked to them recently, the answer is no. We do have a date to get together though. Like in three weeks.”

“Oh! That sounds fun.”

“It does, I miss them.”

“Tell them I said hello when you can.” Robbyn drinks her tea, giving Gingersnap a side eye as he munches away on her toast.

“I will… And Robbyn?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Lies. Lies and slander. You do so much.” Link laughs a bit. “I have to get going. I��ll stop by sometime later and say hello to my favorite person.”

“Well thank you.”

“And you too, I suppose. Since you’ll be there and all.”

“Link Ordon Smith.” Robbyn bites her cheek to keep the smile at bay. “You are a menace and a rascal.”

“Hugs and kisses! Bye!”

“Bye!” She hangs up.

Putting her phone down, he drinks her tea in silence. The news of her friends shocked her. Zelda had always been on top of things. She also seemed to simply know things and whether or not it would end badly or end in someone's favor. She is a pain in the neck to play poker with.

But for the feeling she has to be so strong and yet so vague was new to what Robbyn had seen and heard. She didn’t think it was possible for Link and Zelda to be separated, and less over Zelda’s intuition. Yet here they are. Then again, Robbyn hasn’t asked much about they’re relationship despite knowing the both of them for many years. Correlation does not equal causation. Robbyn wasn’t sure what to think.

Chapter 3

#legend of zelda #Fierce Diety #fanfic #link x oc #skyward sword

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ruki--mukami · 2 years ago

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"ok, uhm.." they sat next to him and took a deep breath before starting.

"I'm a girl. Or maybe I'm not. The first time I breathed in that thought, I felt like I was far too old to be redifining myself, so I coughed it out like a stale cigaratte. after a long night of bad desicions, looked at my reflection and told myself, you're wrong. that night, I put on the prettiest dress I had and went out dancing. 'til I realized I was only skirting around my deepest fears. You see, everytime someone calls me "she", my stomach turns and my skin feels thick. Like someone raised a panic alarm in my brain. And with every "her" that gets hurled my way, I get turned around. I'm not lost, just.. never seem to have the right map. But see, I'm not trapped in a body I hate, just, wrapped in words that don't relate to the way skin feels on my bones. Or, the way that I only feel like home, when no one knows exactly where it is I am, so.. maybe I'm a man. Except I don't think thats right. Theres never been a fight like bar brawls through my veins telling myself I need to change. "him".. feels like a synonymous with someone else. "He", a chorus unto itself, and "him" just fits too loosely. so, maybe I'm not. Either, I mean. I go online to see, do you realize no one is buying this? Do you realize, I'm not selling myself short anymore? Because the first time I opened up the door to the possibility of being myself, I found a treasure map I left for myself back when I was a kid. When the only thing I was scared of loosing, was my sense of self. You see, I never thought we were speaking the same language, untill someone said "they" instead. So tell me I'm wrong, tell me I'm broken. Tell me I must hate myself so much to be the way I am. And I will tell you, I never knew what it was like to fly until I let myself breathe in. Finally found my map, you know? X marks the spot."

(this is not my poem, its from this short film! But I loved it so much and I'm nonbinary myself so I wanted Ruki's reaction to it.)

"How eloquently worded of you to compose such an emotionally-driven masterpiece. You've truly learned so much despite your short time alive, including things about yourself, too. It's a beautiful poem, my dear."

Not quite moved to the point of tears, although steadily approaching an all-encompassing bittersweet wave of sentiment, Ruki's steel-blues traveled from the paper to his child's face, gazing into their eyes before assuming a gentle closed-eye smile to signal that the poem satisfied him with a parental sense of accomplishment that any father should feel after witnessing that the one who lived and treaded an unforgiving world has finally obtained acceptance.

"Well, message aside, I do hope the point of the assignment was to write in free verse... Otherwise, I'm certain you will be docked some points for not maintaining . Kidding, of course. It's wonderful."

Stronger than what any poetry can express, the Vampire enclosed his arms around them, hugging his child tight enough to reach their once troubled heart. A heart fogged with the uncertainty of never being seen the same way they saw themselves, neither male nor female.

"Rather than criticism, I know full well that you seek an audience instead. People who will hear what you have to say, and see you for you. Not because you're trying to sell them a story they'll buy, but because you wish to be acknowledged. If you've finally learned to breathe before flying, then all your father to help you spread those wings and soar to new, unforeseen heights. Surely your teacher and classmates will understand—because we all live under the same sky."

Releasing his child from the embrace, Ruki placed both hands upon their shoulders in reassurance.

"Truth be told, there honestly may have been a time when I couldn't accept such a notion. My past self from eons ago in a world that was very much binary might have argued that people should just accept their birth sex as their identity. That's because I, myself, am what people would label cisgender as you have already surmised. Not to mention that I was raised to essentially become the head of my own household and family someday, given my aristocratic parents. Well, I say to hell with that."

As deeply engraved to the Vampire as those ancient ideologies were, happiness reigned supreme. Happiness for his family, for his children, forevermore.

"No matter what you identify as, I will always love and support you."

#diabolik lovers #ruki mukami #mukami ruki #ask #react #diabolik lovers rp #(( it's a very beautiful message. thank you for sharing it with me as well as others!! ))

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writing-in-lesbian · 3 years ago

Text

Haunting my Dream(s)

Synopsis: You met Natasha when she was living in Ohio. She was your best friend (maybe more) and you were hers. Everything was perfect until one day she disappeared from your life, breaking both of your hearts in the process. That night was when the dreams started. 24 years later and you can't get her out of your life. Maybe it's time you actually pay attention to your dreams. Pairing: Natasha Romanoff / Female reader. Tags: angst Disclaimer: I don’t own Black Widow or anything Marvel related. Word Count: 4.3K

I have always liked rainy days. For as long as I can remember, these types of days have held an attraction for me, it’s as if the cold and the gray clouds called me and asked me to listen to their stories. Most of the time they came to me consciously and lucidly in the daytime world.

To say those cold gray days did not put me in a nostalgic and longing feeling would be a lie. Longing for her, for the past, for the thousands of questions that remained unanswered, the hidden truths buried in the depths of my mind and my being.

Sometimes those days were torturous, reminding me of what I lost, a person that my mind tried to lock in that place where painful memories end. That comfort that usually came with the witnesses of the rain, like the smell of the grass and the wet earth, from time to time becoming my own prison, trapping me in a labyrinth of memories suppressed and assumptions.

Despite that, the rain called me like a jealous lover to the dreamlands, where I would know undoubtedly, from time to time, she would be there, patiently waiting for me.

I had never allowed myself to speak consciously about her until today, 24 years after the dreams began.

For years I did not question the meaning of it, I sought consolation thinking that it was just a feeling of longing for my "Best Friend", that feeling you have when you think you lost something good without explanation.

Or maybe it had an explanation. I don’t know.

The first time I dreamed it, it caught me off guard. Over the years, that dream became recurring and at some point, a refuge.

The set up and places always changed. A hotel, a restaurant, a shopping center, a beach, the cabin in the mountains, our old school, a clubroom, a field, her backyard ... and so I could go on with the list.

Physically she does not look like the person I remembered. It was someone else face, her skin was different and her eyes weren't the shade of green I remembered, but it was her. I know it was her, her essence is unique.

Sometimes she is taller than me. Other times (most of them) she is slightly shorter than I am. We are normally the same height.

It always happens the same way:

I find myself talking with a group of people, friends who correspond to the moment in my life in which I find myself. Friends and acquaintances, teachers and family, love interests that only appeared once and faded from my attention after she arrived. In hindsight I think that must have been my second biggest sign.

I am always in the middle of a conversation on any topic that, in the same way, resembles the point in my life where I found myself, such as high school, the next exam, the final presentation, the thesis, my recruitment, the mission. A good time, good company, but the weather is always cloudy, sometimes with a few small drops, most of the time with torrential rain.

Suddenly, my eyes and attention are diverted to someone who is approaching the group of people I am with.

"Natasha"

Her name resounds between the drops hitting the glass and the thunder that echoes in the distance. It’s like a whisper that should be imperceptible but in my mind it’s the only clear thing that I heard. Strong enough to silence the sounds of people around me and escapes my lips like a forbidden breath.

"Natasha"

I had not dared to pronounce it since our separation, a little over 12 months ago... But you should not take it for sure. There are things that my mind had blocked and was trying to avoid, so I may be wrong with the time.

She walks to us and greet us like it's a common thing. She greets everyone with a kiss on the cheek and a short hug.

She never greets me first.

When she stands in front of me, time stops for a few seconds and suddenly my arms are on her back in a hug that makes me feel that time has not passed, as if we had stopped seeing each other for a few minutes and nothing more.

Her hands draw me to her and squeeze me tightly, I feel mine bringing her closer as well , trying to communicate things that I don't know how to express. Trying to make her feel what my 12-year-old self never knew how to express.

But it’s not necessary, in the dream only hours have passed and not a few months (or years).

I distance myself from her and look at her face that reflects my smile. That face unknown to me but that my heart knows is her. I would recognize her in any dream.

Her hand seeks my hand (or is it mine that seeks hers first?) And intertwines our fingers in endless thoughts. My logic knows things that my self does not and, on this earth, I am not allowed to know yet.

With her by my side, the conversation continues as if there hasn't been any kind of interruption. The people around me do not act strangely, even those who cannot theoretically know her do not treat her differently. That we are holding hands does not cause a blink-of an eye from no one.

At one point (or is it hours later? I don't know, the time here behaves differently) I turn to look at her. I know there are a thousand things I want to say, my mind tries to sort the train of thoughts that I would like to follow but it is impossible.

"Can we talk?"

"We need to talk"

A laugh leaves my lips hearing us say it at the same time. I don't know if we were always in perfect sync or it’s something of this context.

"Alone" I hear myself say, referring to the fact that, although we have been talking for hours (o minutes) with the group of people we are, this talk is important and should only be between us two.

She doesn't say anything.

She never does.

She just takes my hand, says goodbye to the others making signs that we have to go. No one ever questions her, not me. They just accept it and we say goodbye as if we were going to see each other tomorrow.

We turn around and walk a couple of steps before I let go of her hand by shoving my hands into my pockets. She just laughs and keeps hers in her coat. The cold is less intense when we walk.

Every now and then my hips thrust into hers as she smiles at me. Hearing her laugh provokes things in me.

"Can we order something?"

"Of course"

I never know the destination, I think that it adapts to the scenario that my mind decided to put on this occasion. Sometimes it’s inside a classroom, other times it’s a bench surrounded by bushes, most of the times is a table in a restaurant, the furthest from everything. But there are always many people and doors to pass before we get there.

When we arrive, we sat down. I feel her gaze on me. The one that she gave me several times, that look that doesn’t express anything but I know that it held many questions, the one that observes me as if trying to guess my next movement or thoughts, as if she wanted to decipher each and every one of my deepest thoughts.

Or so I usually think.

"Let's talk"

"Do you know what we need to talk about?"

"Yes" my voice is confident, without hesitation I try to say it. "About us"

"What about us?"

"You know" you've known all this time. Probably even before me.

"And you too"

Her eyes drift to my lips, her gaze posing for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again. Unconsciously (or maybe it's the most conscious thing I do on this earth) I lick my lips and her eyes follow my movements again.

"Okay, let's talk then"

"Y/N, see you in a minute" ... ... ...

An alarm sounds and ...

Sometimes the chirp of the birds is the first thing I hear, other days it’s the same rain that, as a jealous lover, tears me away from those lands and brings me back to reality. This reality where I know that she is not with me, that we have not spoken in months (or years) and leaves me with this feeling of wanting to know about her.

For 24 years I had the same dream.

For 24 years I never paid attention to that need or that desire to want to know about her, which intensified as time passed. Sometimes months passed before dreaming of her again. Generally it was once a year.

For a long time, I convinced myself that I was not ready to see her, I was not ready to conclude that talk that the land of dreams denied me, always expelling me the moment she pronounces my name and tells me she’ll see me in a minute.

And now...

Now I am here, trying to finish a dream that started and has stayed with me for approximately 8760 days. Right now I'm a phone call away from asking her so many things, but I know it can't be like that yet.

When I looked for her after the last dream, it was because I woke up with a need like I had never felt before. It was not enough get used to the idea that you could be okay, it was not enough the few times I met you in the real world and turned around. It was not enough that time that by chance I found your file in Maria's files and went in to read it just to know that you were okay, and lose it days later. I imagine Hill figured it out.

After this dream and everything that happened with Thanos and the world, I knew that I had to stop being a coward. I looked for you for several days, they say that if you don’t want to be found, you’ll never be found. I tried various sides and people, but I always ran into walls. At some point I thought you were one of the people we lost when the snap happened, but your name was never on those lists. Just when I thought that again it was not written in my destiny to meet you again (and thinking"OK universe, if I should not find her I will understand") ... I found you.

It took me a couple of days to form a message. For a few hours just looking at your file and the number calmed me down, but something inside me demanded more, asked for more. Someone asked me if I was ready to write to you and I always replied that I didn't know. But my soul screamed to write to you, to initiate a contact and, although it took me 3 hours to write those few lines, at the end of the day I did.

"Hey Natasha, I'm Y/N, maybe this message surprises you a bit, but I don't know if it's something crazy or not (it could be), the point is that I've been dreaming about you (for several years now to be honest, always the same dream, never changes). And to be honest I had always left it alone, however, I dreamed of you last week and I woke up with this very strong urge to look for you, stronger after the decimation. Somewhat difficult if I'm honest, you really know how to hide very well Tasha, but finally something pointed me in the right direction and here I am. Anyway. I do not know if you will read this message or even if I will have an answer, I just wanted to know if you were okay, I sincerely hope you are. Y/N "

I convinced myself that was enough. I convinced my mind not to expect anything, that the message was what I needed to calm my soul, that it didn't matter if you didn't see it or even didn't respond to it. Deep, deep inside, I knew I wanted an answer from you. Which one? I don't know, just that I wanted or needed you to answer.

Although the dream was consistent for 24 years, the last two times that I dreamed it, after I wrote to you, dreamland presented me with two more versions, two new “options”. In the first I saw you, (now your physique corresponded with your essence) but I couldn't reach you. I couldn't get close to you. In the second we talk a little, we exchange 4 or 5 sentences, but never alone.

That was right before you answered me in real life:

"Today. 5 pm. Americana cafeteria"

And now ... am I really ready?

I think the answer to that is no.

You are never ready, at least not consciously. I just know that my heart and mind are finally in the same place. Thanos really did a huge number on various people. Including you.

The place she chose is brighter than I thought, for once the storm clouds don't feel as gray or heavy. This time, that halo of light is enough to illuminate our surroundings. We are at a table, there are some cups of coffee in front of us, you watch the rain fall while your hand plays with the handle of the cup, the other is resting on your cheek.

"Y/N I ... I don't know where to start"

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything right now, just ... just let me speak first, please "

"Okay"

You access without problem. I don't know if it was always like this or not, but this time you know I need it. Maybe you also need the time.

“I know exactly what you were or what you are to me. Maybe it took me 24 years to understand it, I think it was more like accepting it. I always wondered why, you know? "

You just look at me, silently asking me what I mean with your eyes. I know deep down you know it. You extend your hand that plays with the cup and took mine. For a moment I take it and play with your fingers. I want to let go but you stop me, like an anchor tying me to this reality.

And maybe that's what he needed.

“I always wondered why it had hurt so much to part with you, why I cried in the afternoons after our fight, why I couldn't just be with you. Was it a bad or forbidden thing to love you the way I did? What was it that the universe or God wanted to avoid that had to separate us? "

"Y/N"

"I know, I know, probably, well no, surely it was a lesson we had to learn though"

Her fingers intertwine with mine, one of her fingers caressing my hand, as she always did, instantly calming me down.

“I know who I am and now so many things make sense, God, it's painful to see how they didn't before. Now I understand why my relationships did not work as I thought they should, now I understand why it hurt me so much and why so many years ago I could not face you "

"Surely for the same reasons why it hurt me so much too"

I look into her eyes. Those green irises that haunted me for so many years. Even today they do.

“Telling you that you were very important in my life it’s not all you meant to me. You were my first love you know and, well what can I say so many years later? Now I understand all my feelings towards you, now I understand the intensity and innocence that we had during our relationship. It's true when I tell you that all the years that I spent without you only made me realize how much impact you had on my life. They say that the first love is never forgotten and you know what? It's true. It's so fucking true "

“I know, I couldn't forget you either. I think at some point, you became like this ghost or this shadow that did not went away from me. I guess that's why I couldn't look for you after leaving ... "

Her voice cuts out. There's no need to talk about why she unexpectedly left Ohio that day. When I entered S.H.I.E.L.D and after hearing Barton tell your name to Fury, I decided to hack the system and find out about you. Those skills were what led me to join the agency, so I thought it would be something easy. In the end I did it, but it took me a while to do it until that day I found your file in Hill's archives.

“To be honest, I was able to accept that recently. That you had been my first love. So many years I lied to myself trying to justify that I only saw you as a friend, what a fool I was "

"Silly no detka, you just weren't ... we weren't ready"

"Could be"

“I can definitely tell you that I know I felt things for you too, I can't cover the sun with a finger, but for obvious reasons I couldn't look for you and then I couldn't dare to look for you, not after everything I had done and with so much red in my ledger. I always thought of you thou, I wondered what become of your life. I guess I don't think I was ready either and with various things happening in my life ... Now, I also understand several things. I forgive you for not looking for me that night, I understood that it was something that was not in our hands"

I lightly squeeze her hand and look at her. Slowly I turn my gaze to her eyes and there it is, again, trying to decipher what is going through my head, as if trying to prepare or anticipate something. Unconsciously I moisten my lips with my tongue.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything"

"What was I, for you?"

“A watershed in my life. A pending chapter "

I don't know if it's what I expected or not. I don't even know what I wanted to hear, but her words carry a lot of weight for me. I look at our hands again, I see slowly how her other hand covers them, as if she wanted to protect them.

PENDING.

The word overwhelms me more than I ever thought. It puts me in this state of nervousness, ecstasy, uncertainty, happiness. Of everything and nothing at the same time.

Pending. Without resolving.

Pending. Unfinished.

Pending.

PENDING.

“I know you are gay. And there were so many things between us that it would be absurd of me to try to put you inside a label or a box. You were many things to me. I've learned that you don't need a label to feel comfortable with yourself"

She stared into my eyes as I shot her a glance, lightly squeezing her hands.

I'm here.

I'm with you.

You are with me.

You are here.

"Did you ever wonder what would have happened?"

"If you had stayed?"

She can only nod her head while looking away.

"Several times. More than I would like to admit. You?"

"Every time I thought of you"

Her hands release mine and take the forgotten cup of coffee with a slow sip. I look at my warm and dark coffee, the waves caused by the movement come and go.

"I want you to be free"

Her gaze turns doubtful, intriguing even. She leaves the cup on the table.

“You said that at one point I became a ghost or shadow. I don't want to continue being that. I want you to be free. You are too important to me and I want you to be happy. Really"

"You say it like this is the last time I will see you"

There it is. The easy way out, the conclusion of many things. If I say goodbye and get up of this chair, I will end this chapter. I can get on with my life.

But...

"It is not"

"Then?"

Her gaze seeks mine, that gaze equal to that of 24 years ago where I promised my life and she promise she would never lave. That look full of so many insecurities and fears. That look that deep down we know that we would break our promises and break both our hearts.

But this time I have the power of decision in my hands. This time I am in control.

“It’s obvious that we have a strong connection. And I think the way we ended things, that unfinished chapter, where we were and at the age we were, influenced us to unconsciously drag things along and follow us through life. So I want to free you and get rid of those ghosts"

"Y/N, what are you trying to say?"

“I want us to leave the luggage that we dragged behind. I don't want you to be my one that got away”

"Please be clear"

Clear. That word resounds like thunder fallen within the enclosure and is transformed into five simple words.

what do you want?

I want... I want... I want...

I WANT.

I WANT TO BE WITH YOU.

"I want to be with you. I want to see where this connection can take us and I definitely want to know you with the intention of being your girlfriend. I want to try this. Give us a chance to be a couple. Really"

"Detka" her words stay there. I take both of her hands between mine and lift them resting my elbows on the table.

"I know. I know there are a thousand things to fix, okay? I know. But precisely for that reason, with all the more reason we should do it. It’s clear to me that we both started with a light luggage that over the years became a mega suitcase. At least that's how it was with me ”.

"Same with me"

I smile slightly.

“I know we are not the same people we were at twelve, we have to get to know each other again. For my part I have forgiven what I had to forgive of you and myself. It took me 24 years to understand and accept it and I don't want 24 more years to go by. I'm tired of running and forcing things that I didn't understand why they didn't work. I will never be ready, whatever way I think it to be. I know that there is a great risk in all this, I know the world is in chaos and the mission to find the gems has not been easy”

Her gaze does not seem surprised at this confession.

"And still you want ... but why?"

"Because it's you. As simple as that"

Probably simple wasn't the word she expected.

There are so many complications and logical reasons to run to the other side. Definitely none of this fit with my plan to find her again, but what would life be like if all our plans went according to what we idealized?

It's so fucking ironic.

But so simple to understand.

And so, so simple.

Suddenly everything made sense.

“Sorry if it took me so many years to find you, but here I am in front of you. Closing all the past and setting us free from it. Here I am, ready to give myself to you completely. To meet us and take the opportunity. I think neither you nor I need a conventional love and let's be honest, we probably don't make sense, but don’t you wanna stop asking what if? I know that I prefer to find out"

She doesn’t say anything. For a few moments my anxiety begins to take over me. I try to count the seconds and focus on my breathing. Her hand in mine is sufficient anchor to the present.

"I am"

"You are?"

"Yes detka" There is her laugh again. The one that caused butterflies in my stomach so many years ago and today causes them elsewhere.

"Like you said, if I'm here and you're here, why don't we try?"

Four words that make it all seem simple, but probably not, but what the fuck does it matter now? The universe screamed at me many times that I should look fir her, it tried to teach me the lesson very early but my stubborn self was probably opposed to accepting the truth.

Natasha Romanoff was my first love, the first person I ever innocently loved, the first person who made me question myself. She was the first to break my heart (and the first heart I broke)

And now, after so many years, I have found her again.

I feel a slight squeeze in my hands and Natasha stands up. Before I can question anything, her lips steal mine in a kiss that has been waiting for almost 8,760 days. It's everything I could imagine. Her lips move in perfect sync with mine and just when I think it can't be more perfect, her tongue asks for access and I happily oblige.

A vibration on the table interrupts us, Natasha keeps her forehead on mine, eyes closed, savoring the moment, with a peck on my lips, she moves away from me and looks at whatever interrupted our moment.

Natasha takes my hand and with a slight tug pulls me to my feet. In reality she is taller than me by about 5 cm. Her eyes search mine.

"Ready to save the world?"

I just nod my head.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #angst #unbeta'd

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loveisalwaystheanswer · 2 years ago

Note

Whats your take on lizzie and tommy when lizzie says "Do you feel anything? You talk as if you're watching everything on a screen"?

I dislike it when lizzie is smirking at jessie as if lizzie won....when in reality jessie got respected by the other ladies of the workforce while lizzie had to cry and whine to get tommys attention

Hello, anon!

Basically it was made to show us Tommy's state of mind. Not Lizzie's feelings about it. Because these words don't obligate Tommy to do anything about his situation. It was said as a fact. It tells us he's in his deepest depression (I'm talking about clinical depression of course). He almost killed himself, he pulled the trigger, he fuckin wanted to die. But the opportunity was stolen from him. So is there any surprise he doesn't feel anything or he's not in present?Nothing had changed for good since then. This line needed to be said, so they picked Lizzie to deliver it to us. And Lizzie was living with him and saw him acting like this. So his condition couldn't have been a surprise for her.

And I'm pretty sure it echoes his dialogue with Ada: “Where are you Tom? My big brother? You know you used to stop sometimes and laugh. Do you even remember this place?”, he responds "But I'm alive, Ada" and after that goes Ada's (and mine too) bitter and ironic "Yeah" said mostly to herself than to Tommy. And I'm so pissed about it! Because it took them about 9 fucking years (and 2 whole seasons to us) to see the difference and say something about it? Seriously?! Does anybody have any ideas why he doesn't laugh anymore? Since when he's so unhappy? Thoughts?? Tommy is dead inside since GRACE'S death and he didn't laugh since then either. Ta-daa! But we didn't hear anyone saying ANYTHING about the impact of Grace's death on Tommy. Nobody. Ever. Talked. About it. Never. And this is not about someone talking to Tommy, he's not talkative at all, especially about Grace, but none of the family members had ever discussed it among themselves. Didn't fans deserve to hear one line about how important she was to him? To honour her memory? A little bit? Yes, Ada we remember these times. *arghh* I need to stop myself.

I agree with you, anon! This victorious catty Lizzie's look at Jessie just made me laugh out loud. It says "i'm sooo good he chose me and you're left with nothing gaaaal so you can fuck off he's mine and I pity you byyyeee" because Liz sees Tommy as the biggest prize of her life (lol, no). But the truth is that Lizzie is the only one here to be pitied. And I feel sorry for Jessie, she didn't deserve such attitude. But she got lucky to escape Tommy. And Tommy's a dick btw. Lizzie should have said "bye bye Tommy, go to hell" a long time ago. Back then when he let her be raped by Field Marshal and back then when Shelbys killed her lover. But apparently SK didn't want to give her some dignity and self-respect. Instead he made her Lizzie-finally-Shelby who's desperately trying to make Tommy love her and living in a continuing delusion that everything is ok. And only after Ruby's death her wall of denial had came down. I breathed a sigh of relief when she finally found the strength to leave him. It took so long.

thank you xx

#asks #liata notes #lizzie stark #tommy shelby #lizzie needs to learn how to run fast #s6

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

Text

Yandere Kaeya Alberich

Words: 3,162

Tws: General yandere content, Kaeya being a dick

Summary: You’ve been trying to avoid the Favonius captain. He’s convinced you’re unsafe without him. If you don’t believe that, he’ll prove it to you.

"Traveler."

Your muscles tensed. The hairs on your skin raised up. How?

You turned your head towards the voice, a strained smile across your face. "Captain Kaeya!" You pushed with all your effort to make your voice sound pleasantly surprised, excited, sing-songy in the way anyone who knew you would expect upon being greeted with a familiar face. "What are you doing so far out?" You said it so very playfully, casually, as if it was a casual conversation maker and not a genuine question that burned in your mind.

What the hell was he doing so far out of his jurisdiction? What need does he have to be out all the way in Liyue?

Why did he have to show up when you specifically went out of your way to avoid him?

"Oh, I was looking for you. Asked around. Heard you were hanging around the area," He said, pulling out a chair and sitting in front of you, effectively cornering you in your little spot in the corner of the small tavern. He smiled, folding his hands together and resting his chin on them. "I just sent a couple knights out to look for you."

He made no effort to even try to hide it. He was completely shameless. That explained the Favonius knight that had appeared in the tavern earlier - you'd felt uneasy as you saw the man gaze around, halting when he made eye contact with you, before abruptly stepping out as quickly as he'd come in. You should have trusted your gut and left as soon as you could - but here you were.

When you'd first met Kaeya, you'd admired the young captain. He was brave, skilled, charming, and undeniably a very attractive man. His charisma made him a well-respected, well-liked person throughout Mondstadt, even if his reputation did include an arrogance that was just as well-known as his skill.

That was the issue - you'd noticed that trait, that one characteristic about the man that made you uneasy, that upset you so greatly that you had resolved to avoid him entirely. Well, three traits.

One, he was obsessive, clingy, attached to a degree far too unnatural for someone who had known you for such a short time.

Two, Kaeya was a little overly touchy. It was just on the border of your discomfort, too noticeable for you to feel okay with it, but too mild to feel justified in confronting him about it. Everywhere you went with him, you could always feel his hands somewhere on your person.

And three, Kaeya was perhaps the most condescending, self-righteous person you'd ever met. He was always, always right. You never knew what you were talking about. He always knew better. He was always smarter, you were always dumber. Or so he seemed to believe. You'd grown to be increasingly irked, insulted whenever he would treat you like some naive idiot, reminding you how you, some foreigner, had no grasp on reality in this world. Really, you were hopeless, you really should let him stay by your side, help your poor naive little self navigate the world, since you were so incapable on your own.

"Oh," you finally responded, snapping out of your thoughts, smile straining, trying to come up with some response to the utterly creepy truth he'd been so shameless to reveal. "Yeah, I came out here for a few days. Really, uh, pretty area."

"Mm. That it is. This place attracts a good deal of tourists," he tilted his head. "The route here is... Particularly dangerous, though. You didn't travel here all by yourself, did you?" His eye contact was unwavering, and you found yourself breaking away, opting to gaze downward. "Or were you... Accompanied?"

"Ah, I came here by myself," you answered. "I didn't encounter any dangers... Outside a few hilichurls."

"Hilichurls are responsible for quite a few deaths in the area. You shouldn't underestimate them," he remarked. "Really, that's an unwise decision, coming here alone... You really should have sought some protection."

"Oh, I'm pretty good with a sword. I can take care of myself."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Is that so?" His voice was amused. Condescending. As if you were a child, some little kid insisting on your competence. "I'm sure you'd fare well, if you found yourself surrounded by them. Or worse," his voice darkened, "some... Other forces. Plenty of bandits and other criminals walk the roads in the Mondstat region."

Isn't it your and your knights' job to deal with that?

"O-oh, I see. Well, it's a good thing I didn't run across any of those..."

"Yes, it is." The blunt statement left you feeling your stomach churn with awkward silence that followed. The undertone - the clear hint of frustration - of his voice made you shiver. "They could easily catch you off guard..."

You'd left Mondstadt almost solely to get away from him for a few days. You needed some respite. The irritation in you boiled over ever so slightly. "It's ok, I'm pretty sharp. I'm always on guard."

Since meeting him, Kaeya had been attached to you virtually every waking moment of the day - no, he insisted on being near when you slept, too. On the very day of your arrival, he'd insisted you sleep in the knight headquarters, despite how many times you repeated that an inn was perfectly suitable. It was safer, he claimed. Safest in the little spare room just down the hall from his own, where he could come check on you before you settled down for the night. The first time, you'd been startled, flushing as he stood in your door frame, thinking that the moment he realized you were barely clothed in your sleeping gown, he'd surely get flustered and leave, but he didn't, opting to talk to you for several minutes before turning away. That experience had been... uncomfortable.

He'd been everywhere you were, both inside of Mondstadt and, albeit a bit less, in the wilderness. You weren't even sure how he kept appearing exactly wherever you were - you'd be minding your own business, and a knight of Favonius would appear in your line of sight - soon after, Kaeya would always appear. No matter what time of day, no matter how far out you were, no matter what you wore or who you were with. Even if you had other people in a party with you, he insisted on showing up, as he claimed, for your safety. Sure, you had other companions that could try to guard you, but really, were they any valid comparison for a swordsman of his caliber?

You didn't need them, he could easily be more than enough, surpass any other companions you could take with you.

"Excuse me miss," a waitress approached. Oh no. "Did you and your friend need anything else?"

You knew what was coming, but he moved to speak before you could, snapping his head towards the woman. "No. Could you kindly leave us alone?"

The poor girl's eyes widened. "O-of course. My apologies." She quickly scurried off.

You'd never seen him be anything short of rude, even downright nasty, towards anyone that entered his presence. Somehow, you felt that he likely wasn't like that when it was just him - he was too clearly well-liked to be so rude all the time.

"Anyhow," he turned back to you, "I came here primarily to fetch you... Extremely important matters happening back in Mondstadt. That bard is looking for you. Something about Stormterror?"

Oh. That changed things.

"Something's wrong with him?"

"Mhm. Apparently so, but I don't have any details. Your assistance is needed immediately, apparently. Come," he smiled again, rising and extending his hand, "I'll take you back."

It shouldn't bother you - you should be grateful. You should simply sigh, and acknowledge that even if he was clingy, even if he was unnecessarily protective, there was nothing wrong here, there was nothing about the situation that should give you the feeling that it did.

It was a weight in your stomach, a twisting in your gut. Something instinctive, something in your deepest, most primal senses, was set off, a chill seeping through your blood. An innate sense in your very core that directed your actions, told you to get away.

But your trained sense of social decency rejected such an idea. He was being gracious, kind, helpful, and although he might put you at unease sometimes, Kaeya was known for being an upstanding person. And besides, logically, someone who seemed to like you so much wouldn't do anything to harm you.

You realized that you had frozen in place, briefly lost in your thoughts. He cocked his head. "Something the matter...?"

"N-no! No, I'm fine, I'm coming," you stood hurriedly, pushing the chair back as you did. "Thank you, Captain Kaeya."

He hummed in approval. "Of course. What kind of knight would I be, letting a defenseless girl wander back alone?" He paused. "I'll always protect you, so long as you actually bother to tell me when you plan to disappear." Despite his smile, there was an obvious hint of passive aggressive irritation in his voice, and you tried not to cringe in discomfort.

"Oh, aha, I'll be sure to let you know next time."

"I'd appreciate that."

You wondered how you'd apologize next time when you conveniently forgot your promise.

As you exited the little tavern, dropping mora on the bar for the owner, you felt a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the doorframe. The touch made you shiver, and it lingered, like a brand against your skin.

The walk back was lively, you weren't bored with Kaeya to talk to. Even if his conversation was primarily bragging about this or that, telling you all the oh-so-wonderful feats he'd accomplished in his time, it was better than silence, you supposed. You were back to Mondstadt fairly quickly - no hilichurl encounters, although you did briefly run across a few slimes that he insisted on taking down by himself.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" He stopped in the middle of whatever he had been going on about - honestly, you weren't paying that great of attention.

"What? I-I'm fine," you responded, eyes wide.

"Really?" he looked at you with something like concern in his uncovered eye, brows furrowing with worry. "You look... a little sick." Suddenly, he pushed the back of his hand against your forehead. "You feel hot, too."

Well, now you did feel warm, his touch leaving a searing feeling on your skin. "A-are you sure? I don't think I'm..."

"No, you're definitely coming down with something." He glanced over in the opposite direction, where the city walls were not too far off. "You probably haven't even realized it yet. I could carry you the rest of the way, if you'd like."

"O-oh, ah, no, that's fine! I can walk... just... fine..." You found yourself trailing off, embarrassment making your face burn.

"Well, why don't we stop by the Knights' Headquarters before we go to meet that... Venti, was it? We have a nurse there that could see to you."

"I..." you paused. Once again, that dreadful, sickly feeling rose in your stomach. Something telling you that something was wrong.

And again, you pushed it back. "Ok, sure."

He hummed in acknowledgement, swiftly moving towards the gates. "Let's hurry, then. Let me know if you change your mind and want me to carry you." He added a slight smirk to his last sentence. You weren't sure if you found it endearing or irritating.

Once you got back, as expected, Kaeya began directing you to the Knights of Favonius headquarters. And you followed him, all the way in, all the way down the stairs, all the way into the hall -- wait.

You figured perhaps he was absent-mindedly headed that way out of force of habit. "Uh... Kaeya, are you sure we're going the right way? This is..."

The same little tucked-away hallway that your rooms were in. In fact, you were literally coming up on your room.

He stopped, turning his head your way with a soft smile. "No worries. You're really starting to look like the blood is draining from your face... I just figured I can bring the nurse down here." He paused next to your room, then took a step back, motioning his head, as if to tell you to go in. "Just sit down, I'll find her and bring her this way."

The churning was stronger than before. Every hair on your body stood up. Every instinct you had told you something was not right.

Nonetheless, yet again, you didn't listen.

Your feet clicked on the stone floor as you walked through the door. It all occurred so quickly, your mind spun. It felt like a punch to the gut, the air knocked out of you, the impact pain pulsing as your back was slammed into the wall. Strong hands kept a bruising grip on your shoulders. The room spun around you, head dizzy and struggling to process. What snapped you into awareness was a cold, sharp chill pressed right up against your neck, and a firm knee pressed between your legs.

He had you pinned to the wall, sword hovering ever so slightly above the skin on top of your veins. You gasped for air from the impact. "K-Kaeya!" You managed to choke out. You couldn't form anything beyond that. Panic was surging through your body, mind overwhelmed as survival instinct tried and failed to find a quick way to get away.

"What's that?" He pressed his face forward, almost nuzzling it into your neck. You could feel him smirking against your skin. "I believe I remember you saying something about how you couldn't be caught off guard...?"

You were vaguely aware that you would normally be angry - furious - over whatever was happening here, but primal fear still controlled your brain at the moment, unable to feel anything but panic. You trembled.

"This is what I meant when I said you should be more careful," he muttered. "You think you're so capable and strong, but look at how easily I could trap you... I could kill you, right now, so easily."

Your body shook fiercely. You felt tears begin to gather around your eyes. "I-I just... Trust... You..." Your voice was weak, frail, trembling harder than your body. "You're, you're my, m-my friend..."

"Mm, plenty of people will come along pretending to be your friend, (y/n). You're very, very lucky that I actually do have your best interest in mind." Finally, he lowered the sword from your throat. You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in, and you felt your knees give way, stumbling forward, quite literally falling into his arms. He dropped the sword in order to catch you, and it clattered to the ground.

Your shaking hands grasped his arms, fingers digging firmly into his skin, desperate for some sturdy stillness to cling to. There was a moment of silence.

"You see, (y/n)? Think about all the people that wouldn't just be proving a point like I am... All the people that might want to really hurt you... Do awful things to you... Aren't you grateful I'm not like that?" His voice was deeper than its usual tone, and you felt his chest vibrate as he spoke from where your head was pressed against him. It was low yet soft, almost a growl, yet almost a whisper.

You were breathing rapidly, forehead pressed against his chest. You didn't respond.

"I said, aren't you grateful that I don't want to hurt you?"

"Y-yes," you found your voice. You didn't know what else to say.

"And you understand now... You need me. You need me there to protect you from bad people. You're so easy to trick and overpower... So naive... Imagine what could happen if you get into this situation again, but for real... And I'm not there?" He reached one hand up, stroking the back of your head. "Surely, you understand that now, don't you?"

You nodded.

"That's good. I hope you remember that, next time you try to run off." He tsk-ed, tilting his head to rest his chin on top of your head, grip on your shoulder increasing, almost crushing. "Honestly, you should really just be guarded full time. I could probably arrange that."

As you began to calm down, the reality of the situation began to dawn on you. Anger rose in place of the fear. He had the audacity to do something like this, and blame you for trusting him? You wanted to speak up, say something, but that same primal instinct told you it was a bad idea.

This time, you listened.

He gently shifted, setting you down on the bed. "Now, you really do look sick, truly. Tell you what, I'll just go see that bard in your stead, tell him you couldn't make it. We'll have to just figure something out. I'll tell the nurse to come down here."

"Wh-what?" You started to stand on your shaking legs. "No, I-"

"You really can't be going out," he grabbed your shoulders and firmly pushed you back. "Really. You'll just get worse. Better to recover faster, than prolong your illness, no?"

"I don't feel si-"

"You are sick." Once again, his smile was betrayed by the irritation in his voice. "Don't tell me you don't know about the Mondstadt influenza? No wonder. You're foreign, so you're probably highly susceptible to illnesses you've never encountered."

You'd been given a rundown of local illnesses by Lisa, actually, but didn't recall such a thing. "I've... Never heard -"

"You won't feel symptoms for several days after first showing signs. You're very lucky I'm used to seeing it." He pulled out a watch, eyebrows rising. "Oh, look at that. It's already time to meet the bard. I'll be back in a little bit."

"Wait-"

"It'll only be a few minutes. I'll be back soon."

"Captain Ka-"

"Get some rest now."

The door shut firmly. You heard his heavy footsteps quickly sprint down the hall.

A nurse never came. Ten minutes passed, half an hour. You thought about trying to go find her yourself. Maybe he was actually being honest. Maybe you were sick. You almost wanted him to be right. You would prefer being sick to the idea that he might be lying to you.

You preferred worrying about being sick to worrying about the implications and meanings of the situation if he was lying to you.

You finally stood, resolving to go find a knight yourself, ask for directions to the nurse. Something. Anything to get your mind away from this, distract yourself from your brain's racing to process what had happened just before.

The metal lock rattled against the wood as you tried and failed, with increasing desperation, increasing heartbeat, increasing rapid breaths, to open the door.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere kaeya #yandere genshin impact #yandere x y/n

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justreadingfics · 4 years ago

Text

It’s a Deal (Chapter 10)

Chapter Summary: What a day.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 7.1k

Warnings: mild angst, fluff, confrontation, mention to past relationships that might’ve been a bit toxic, crying, laughing.

A/N: I know, I’m not a fast updater! Thank you all for the patience, and I hope you guys like this chapter. I feel like a should warn you about the level of angst that might be below your expectations, this is me trying to write a romantic comedy, guys, bear with me, lol! Thank you to my sweet Les for always having my back. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

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“Will you marry me?”

Those words replay in your head while your limbs go slack. Eddie kneels before you, diamond ring in hands and an expectant look on his face. You just stare at him, unsure of what to say or even what to feel among the huddle of sensations inside you… until one of them suppresses the others and your parted lips shut right before your jaw clenches. Anger.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Eddie?”

Completely taken aback by your snap, the man before you flinches and his shoulders drop while the little box shuts when his hand does.

“I-I…” he tries.

“No,” you cut him off, “Seriously,” you swiftly get up from the sofa, and he follows, “You broke up with me after one year or so without properly touching me or even talking to me,” you scoff, shaking your head, “And now you come here and fucking propose after months apart? Fucking propose, Eddie?” You repeat yourself, narrowing your eyes at him, “What the hell are you even thinking? That I would swoon and run to your arms just like that?” You snap your fingers, “That I was here just waiting for this moment?”

The man seems completely startled and lost in front of you, but in your outrage, you don’t find in you to care one bit, “I know I messed up,” he finally speaks, “I know it’s all my fault, I was lost, but this?” he lifts the little box, “This is it, I’m not lost anymore.”

You sigh, running your hand over your face, you put on a calmer voice as the anger guiding your actions and words so far starts subduing, “Listen, I was crushed when you broke up with me, I should’ve seen it coming, maybe I should’ve tried harder when I noticed the distance between us-”

“That’s not true, baby -”

“Eddie,” you raise a hand to interrupt him, “Let’s try to be honest to each other here for once. If there’s something I’ve learned is that we can never do wrong by being honest.”

There’s a crease between his eyebrows as he takes in your words until he breathes in and nods.

“We weren’t ok by the end of our relationship, this time apart made me see that much clearly now. I may have turned a blind eye to it all, but that’s the truth. We weren’t communicating, we were just going with the flow, and that’s on us. Both of us.” Your lips tighten and he keeps his attention on you, “But now…Maybe you didn’t notice or maybe you’re the one turning a blind eye for it now, but don’t you see the timing for this proposal is, in the least, a little off?”

“What? Why?” He tilts his face while the crease on his forehead deepens.

You let out a breath and walk to the sofa. He follows you and you both sit down again. A true and honest conversation with Eddie has been long overdue and you don’t think it’s time to keep postponing it, “We are broken up for months and you’re proposing to me not even two whole days after seeing me close to someone else… after trying to hook up with a woman you’d been flirting and not being able to go through…”

The bone on his throat bobs as he gulps and looks down to his lap.

“You may say this was enough to make you see you were wrong about the breakup and for distancing yourself, but this can’t be enough for a decision like that.” You nod towards the little box in his hand, “Those four months maybe haven’t been what you expected to be for you…And to be honest, they weren’t exactly what I expected to be for me, either,” you falter, but keep your head straight.

His head snaps back towards you and he just observes you for a brief moment, like he’s reading you anew, “What do you mean?” he asks quietly.

You’re not sure what you should answer to that when not even you have a clear understanding of what this time apart really meant for you. Your lips tighten before you speak, “You keep saying I’ve changed, maybe I did, I don’t know.” You shrug. “All I know is that I can’t accept your proposal. For the sake of us, Eddie. We can’t right the wrongs of our relationship just jumping to that,” you add, hoping that he would understand you.

His head drops and he takes in a shuddering breath, making your heart heavy. Your hands turn into nervous fists on your lap. He is important to you, there’s no way to deny that. Weeks ago it’s possible you wouldn’t even think twice or even consider the problems in your relationship before accepting the proposal with all your heart. But now, like you said, something has changed, something that made you realize all the problems in the path you two drove your relationship to.

Not to say that, in the deepest of your mind, there’s a chanting of another man’s name, a quiet but persistent echo. Still, you keep it aside for later deliberation. Now you focus on Eddie, the man you planned to spend a life with and who is before you, offering you to do just that and hearing a rejection from you.

His eyes close before he looks back at you, “Ok,” he nods, “I’m not saying I agree with all of that, but I accept your decision,” he sighs and you give him a small smile, “This is yours, though.” He takes your hands and puts the little box in it, shutting it so you can hold it.

Your mouth falls open while your eyes rounds, “Eddie, no, I can’t-”

“Please,” he urges, dragging himself closer to you, “This is yours. It doesn’t change by the fact you said no. Regardless if we stay together or not, I want you to have it, please,” he pleads, keeping his hand around yours, squeezing the little box tight in your hold.

The abandonment etched on his face is what makes you swallow dry and give him a small nod while your chest heavies, “Ok,” you whisper, “But- but it doesn’t change anything, Eddie,” you make sure to add.

He smiles a breathy smile and withdraws his hand from yours, letting you keep the box while you pull your hand, “I know, it’s ok… Can I ask you one more thing, though?”

“Alright,” you agree.

“You said you don’t wanna jump to marriage, that it can’t right the wrongs of our relationship. But…is there a chance for us at something in the middle? I mean, is there a chance for us to work things out?”

Your eyebrows dart high on your forehead. The question causes a cold pinch in your stomach. You think about all the time you spent together, all the hopes and dreams, the struggles, the good and the bad… Right now, if you dig into yourself and your feelings, he may not feel like the obvious choice for you, but there was a time, not so long ago, that he was and it felt right. You have to respect that, don’t you?

“Listen Eddie,” you speak softly, after clearing your throat, “Maybe we can start by seeing each other more frequently?” Your forehead scrunches after you present your offer, not sure how he’s going to take that. “We can keep talking, not holding back on things we have to say to each other, being honest… We can try to be friends for now, or something like that? And then we see how it all goes?”

“Friends?” Eddie snickers, “We were never friends.” He lets out a skeptical snort.

You shrug, “We can try… I don’t know… All I know is I’m not ready for more now and I need some time to put my thoughts together, and I think you need that, too.”

After just looking at you for a second, he puts on a small smile and covers your hand with his, “Alright. All the time you need. But now, just… let me…”

You watch when he leans over and moves his lips close to yours. After placing a hand on the nape of your neck, he waits for a reaction of some sort, but when you offer none and just stares at him, he kisses you.

Your eyes shut after a few seconds. It feels weird and familiar at the same time if that even makes sense. There’s a longing behind the gesture, a longing that makes your heart beat a bit faster… An urge grows in you, a tingle, a crucial need to...

Pulling away, you quickly turn your face to the other side before covering your mouth with you forearm and setting free the sneeze that was bubbling inside you.

You sniff and, with a frown, turn to a comically taken aback Eddie, “Alright, if we’re going to be around and honest with each other from now on, I’m sorry but you’ll have to get rid of that damn perfume.”

“Really? But you loved that perfume.”

Your lips form a thin line and you raise an eyebrow.

Realization dawns on his face, “Oh…I guess you didn’t.”

~~~

After promising you the perfume wouldn’t be a problem anymore, Eddie leaves with the compromise of calling you for a coffee soon. You realize you two never really talked about the condo and you wonder if that has anything to do with him being sure you two would end up together again.

If that’s the case, you’re definitely not as sure as he is. And it’s an odd feeling, not being sure about Eddie anymore. Even when things were bad, you were always sure about him.

Finding yourself alone again, you drop your body on your couch. You’re damn exhausted. Tilting your head to the side, your gaze meets the little box over the center table. You reach for it and open the lid. Without the adrenaline from before, you take your time to observe it.

You take in the thin straight white gold band that leads to the halo which holds the round and small brilliant cut diamond. You smile as you can tell he was thinking of you when he picked that ring. It’s simple and beautiful, something that wouldn’t attract much attention to your hand, like most of your jewelry.

Eddie has never been that great with making conversation or opening up with you- and maybe a few other actions - but he always knew exactly what to gift you. He has always been thoughtful with your taste and personality.

Without thinking much, you put on the ring. You sprawl your hand before you and have to acknowledge that it fits perfect. You wonder how much it would make you feel special not much time ago…

Letting out a groan, you drop the little box on the floor in favor to reach for your phone in your jeans’ pocket. Your thumb hovers the name that’s been nagging at the back of your mind this whole time. Without giving yourself much time to think, you press on the name.

Bucky “Soft Tongue” Barnes.

A little smile curls your lips. You really need to change that.

The ringing tone resounds in your ear as your breathing quickens. Why just the mere thought of talking to Bucky is making you so damn nervous? You wait… and wait. When it goes to the voicemail, you quickly hang up.

That’s the very first time Bucky doesn’t pick up when you call. The small frown between your eyebrows softens at the thought that he’s probably sleeping. It’s Sunday after all.

You huff while you hold your phone against your chest with one hand and digs your fingers into your hair with the other. You stare at the white ceiling above you… Shit… what the hell are you even doing. Calling Bucky right after being proposed by Eddie? And why in the world does your mind keep insisting on the thought of Bucky and you feel the need to talk all about that morning with him, to listen to whatever opinion he might have on that, or anything else he might have to say?

And why does your heart jump so funny when you remember his face… that stupid perfect face… and his smile…

Fuck…

That probably has something to do with the last couple of days you spent with him. First, he was your rock at your party, making it easier for you to have fun, and then taking care of your drunk ass. Then the next day at Brooklyn… and the night after that. It did feel different… maybe more intimate...

But it’s just an impression... The man has always made himself crystal clear – which, by the way, so did you - that what you had was sex, incredible and mind-blowing, of course, but just sex. He has never wanted anything other than that, and you’re definitely sure Bucky Barnes isn’t cut out for what comes in a relationship beyond the sex.

Shifting your gaze to the ring on your finger as you still hold your phone against you, your relationship with Eddie comes to your mind, how you always did everything together, the decisions regarding life, work and everything else were taken together, the dreams and growth, the stability and familiarity…You also think about the arguments… the silence and distance, the loss of the spark and the excitement of being together, the times you ended up erasing your likes and dislikes to avoid confrontation…

With a will of its own, your mind then navigates to Bucky again and what you had together this last month. You can’t imagine him, in all his glorious bachelor lifestyle, engaging in a relationship like that, with all the strings and emotional weight that surely come with it and, by your experience, ends up killing all the fun. Do you still want a relationship like that, though? Of course there’s its positive side, but what about all the negatives that stubbornly resist any relationship?

Also… seriously? Bucky’s the first man who’s nice to you after your break-up… The second you’ve had sex with. Ever. You can’t be so pathetic to the point of having a no strings attached relationship with a guy and start thinking, because he’s nice and kind to you, because you suddenly feel like you shared a special weekend with him, that it could lead to something different than that.

You groan as it frustrates you to no end the thought that you’re so weak that maybe you can’t be your own person and perhaps need to always be engaged in some kind of relationship or emotionally attached to someone, no matter if you know them for ten years or a month.

If Bucky were there, he would probably say the right thing, about how you’re overthinking all of it and you’re just a couple of rabbits fucking majestically and enjoying each other’s company. He would also say that you two were too smart to trade that for something as boring and dull as love. A loose smile twitches your lips.

You don’t need to fall for him just because you’re having sex… Just because he’s the most handsome and sexy man you’ve ever seen… Because he’s amazing in bed, respectful, kind, smart, funny, strong, thoughtful…

Jesus…

Immersed in your conflicting feelings and thoughts of Bucky, of Eddie, of yourself… you have no idea of when you end up falling asleep on your couch, but the ding of your doorbell wakes you up in a startle, you squint and brush your hand over your face before reaching for your phone that has fallen over the carpet. Your eyes widen at the clock. You’ve been sleeping for a little more than a couple of hours. As the doorbell rings again, you spot five missed calls. All of them from Bucky. And after swiftly getting up and rushing to the door, that’s the man you find behind it.

“Hey-”

You don’t even let him start talking before pulling him in into a hug, circling your arms around his neck and nestling your head against him. You don’t even know why you’re doing this, but you love the warmth of him wrapping you up, and you love that he holds you back immediately, without questions or further talking.

You let out a deep sigh, before leaning away and smiling at him, which he mimics.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi,” he says back, gazing at you with a distinguish softness in his eyes and a small but beautiful smile on his lips. “I saw your missed call, I tried to call you back a few times and when you didn’t answer I thought maybe I should drop by,” he says.

“Good,” you breathe and turn, taking his hand and guiding him inside as he shuts the door with his foot behind him.

He pulls your hand, making you stop on your track and face him again. The softness from before gives place to a nervous little frown on his face, “I- I need to talk to you -”

”Eddie proposed to me.” You don’t know if it’s the little tremble on his voice, his very presence, or the fact that they were choking in your throat, but the information spills from your mouth unannounced.

The words catch on Bucky’s throat as he inhales sharply. He takes a step back at the same time his rounded eyes drop to your hand, which is still laced on his. The blood seems to vanish from his face.

You follow his stare and that’s when your eyes ball out because you realize you’re still wearing the ring. Acting by impulse, you take your hand away from his and move to pull the ring off your finger, “I-I didn’t say yes,” you quickly clarify, but the damn ring doesn’t budge even with your harsh attempts of taking it off and a desperate feeling lodges at the pit of your stomach because goddammit it had fit perfectly moments ago. You groan in sheer frustration, looking down and pulling even more forcefully, “I was just trying it on-I-“.

Gentle hands cover yours. Your mouth snaps shut and your hasty ministrations halts. You look up and take in the sight of his eyes on you. They are softer now and it calms you down, just like the light massaging circles he draws on your skin. A caress. While you keep your eyes on each other, he twirls the ring, which now moves with ease, and ever so slowly, he pulls it through the length of your finger, till it’s completely off of you.

Holding it with his thumb and index finger, he observes the shiny little jewel between the two of you, his expression unreadable, before he offers it back to you.

Like waking up from a daze, you’re quick to accept it and place it on the center table at your side.

“I told him this wasn’t the time to think about that...” you say, your voice coming out timid as you fidget with your fingers.

Bucky remains quiet, putting his hands in his pockets, that same unreadable expression still on his face. He nods, though, for you to continue, “We talked a lot. He asked if we still had a chance and I said we should start off by seeing each other more, like friends or something like that, and then see what happens.” You purse your lips.

“Oh…” he mumbles.

You wait for him to say anything else, but he doesn’t. He just seems lost for speech and that’s news for you.

“It was a hectic morning,” you let out a nervous little laugh, “I called you because I kind of wanted to talk to you… I mean…What do you think?” You bite your cheek.

“Of what?” He blinks.

“All of that… The proposal, my answer…” your voice fails.

Bucky clears his throat before he nods, “Well… what more did he tell you exactly?”

You then pull him to sit on the sofa with you and you tell him everything Eddie had said right there on that same sofa, trying hard to not let any detail out. For some reason knowing what Bucky would have to say about that is all that matters to you right now.

“Hold on.” Bucky holds up both his hands as a crease appears between his eyebrows, “Are you telling me he decided to break up with you without even trying to work things out, really talk to you about whatever shitty crises he was going through and then comes here after four months of radio silence, right after seeing you close to me and after he tried to hook up with someone else?” He scoffs, shaking his head before getting up, turning his back to you.

You watch, still on your seat, as he runs a hand over his face, before you get up and puts a hand on his back, you’ve never seen him that agitated, “Bucky…”

He swiftly turns to you, gesticulating with his arms and hands as he speaks, “Sounds like this guy’s single life wasn’t exactly what he thought it would be and the moment he realized maybe it was going a lot nicer for you, he decides he better jump in again, that he’s ready and shit? Sounds like he still doesn’t know what he really wants and is taking a shot at you like some impulsive and jealous asshole. Fuck this guy,” he spits as his cheeks flush red.

His reaction takes you off course for a bit. He’s been always honest and straightforward with you, but you didn’t expect such an emotion outrage from him. You talked about Eddie many times with him and it was never like that, “I-I… yeah, I know, Bucky. I’m not blind to that, which is what I told him after he proposed.”

“And yet, you’re talking about starting to see him again,” he states and if he wanted to sound like an accusation you didn’t know, but it sure sounds like it.

“Bucky, it’s ten years,” you argue, not sure why this seems to be escalating to, not a fight, but at least a heated debate, “I can’t just erase this time and what it meant to me. That’s a great part of my whole adult life. We lived together, did everything together. I loved him. You have no idea what it’s like to have a relationship like that.”

His jaw clenches, before he gives his back to you. His head drops and he puts his hands on both sides of his waist.

You shift on your feet, wondering whether you have maybe crossed a line there. This kind of heat up interaction with Bucky is news and completely strange to you. But when you’re about to say something, you hear the low groan that come out of his mouth.

“A man who won’t even eat your pussy...” he shakes his head, utter exasperation on his voice.

Your jaw drops before a small gasp slips through your lips. You don’t take it as an offense or anything like that, because when he said it, it wasn’t in an accusing tone like before, let alone aggressive. It’s just like he’s genuinely confused by why you would have such consideration for a man who wouldn’t go down on you.

“Bucky,” you let out a breathy laugh, “What the hell is going on with you?” You tilt your head while he still has his back to you, “If I didn’t know you better I would say you were jealous.”

His head snaps up at your comment and he turns to face you. His lower lip is trapped between his teeth. There’s something of anguish on his eyes and the amusement in your face drops at his demeanor.

“That’s because I am,” he affirms, short of breath.

Your eyes widen for a second before you frown and your head shakes lightly with confusion, “What?”

“I’m jealous, ok? I’m jealous, that’s it.” His face reddens even harder as his voice raises and he gesticulates, indignation pouring out from him, “Your ex is a douche who didn’t appreciate what he had and now decides he can come here and fuck up with what we have?”

A shocked breath comes out of your lips, “What we have? Bucky, you were the first one to be sure our deal wouldn’t be exclusive, and that was fine by me. I talked about Eddie with you countless times and it was fine, I don’t get why you’re saying and acting like that now.”

“Yeah, I know all of that, but things change, I guess…shit.” He curses and covers his eyes with both hands and takes a few breaths before looking at you again, “I didn’t want to tell you like that,” he says in a softer way right before he clenches his teeth again, “But that jerk had to come here first…”

“Didn’t want to tell me what exactly, Bucky?” you question.

He looks at you for a second, the agitation slowly leaving his features before he walks over you and takes you by the hand to guide you to sit on the sofa again, “Listen,” he says, as you sit beside him, intently listening to him, “It’s been some time I’ve been feeling kind of weird towards you. Us, I mean.” He gulps, “A kind of feeling that confused the hell out of me for quite some time.”

“Ok…” Your heart races in your chest, but you still have no idea where this is going, so you decide to not say anything else and let him talk so maybe you can get a better grasp on what the hell is going on.

“You know this morning, when you picked up Eddie’s phone and said he could come over?”

Your eyes move away from his for a second, since you’re not exactly proud of the fact that you did tell Eddie to come over when he was still there, but Bucky said it himself it was ok… clearly it was not.

“We had just had an amazing day and night together and I was even more confused when I got out of here,” he continues, ”I needed to check something, to fully understand what was happening, so I called Amanda.”

“Oh… really?” A piercing ache bites on your chest at the information. Are you the one who’s jealous now? “Were you with her when I called you? That’s why you didn’t pick up?” You ask, trying not to let your unexpected feeling show, but you’re not sure whether you’re succeeding or not.

“Yeah,” he admits with a small nod.

The answer makes you flinch on your seat, “And you wanna talk to me about jealousy,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of you, the annoyance slipping through your tone, “That’s really funny, Bucky, don’t you think?”

“But… I-I,” he seems lost for a moment, “Listen, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ never have, not gonna start now. I called her with the idea of having sex with her, yeah. Ever since I met you I hadn’t slept with anyone else and I thought that maybe that was the reason I was feeling so weird-“

“Wait…Really? You hadn’t been with anyone else?” You interrupt him, since the information piques your interest. Now that he mentions it, you have a vague memory of someone telling you that exact same thing at the party while you were too shitfaced to process the info. What an irony that the someone was precisely Amanda.

“No, and I still haven’t because I couldn’t even get it up,” he discloses with pure exasperation.

“What?” You lift both your eyebrows, “You couldn’t get it up?” You practically squeal, “Is that… is that even possible?” You reach over his forehead to check his temperature, “Are you ok?”

Taking your hand in his, he lets out a chuckle, but there’s no humor behind it, “I called her because I thought that if I hooked up with someone else, maybe things would be clearer or whatever. And they did.” He huffs, nodding down to his lower half, “The jerk down there decided to throw on my face something I think I’ve known for a while but had no idea what to make of it.”

He pauses and takes a few breathes, looking down as if he needs to gather some courage and you squeeze his hand, trying to provide him what he needs to keep talking. When he looks back at you, there’s a small reassuring smile on your face waiting for him and the next words he says bursts out from his lips.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Silence settles in the room. You still have your hand on his while he stares at you expectantly. You stare back at him. Something starts bubbling in your chest. It grows bigger and bigger till it runs up your throat and spurts from your lips in the form of a laugh. A big and hysterical one.

You let go of his hand to lightly push him on his shoulder, “Oh my God, Bucky,” you say, as tears form in the corner of your eyes of how much you’re laughing, “Only you can come up with a story like that to make me laugh now.” You point at him, “You finding out you’re in love with me because of a limp-dick.” You laugh even harder.

It's when you move to tap on his shoulder again that you focus on his face to see the lack of amusement on it. He has a sad and almost embarrassed gaze fixed on you as his lips form a frown.

The laugh dies on your lips.

“Oh…” you breathe, while realization finally comes to you, “You’re not kidding.”

He gives you a tight-lip smile.

“Oh…” you say again, any other word vanishing from your mind as you shift and lean back on your seat, staring ahead and away from him. Bucky has just said he thinks he’s in love with you.

Bucky…

In love with you…

“I know this wasn’t the ideal way and time to tell you, I know,” he starts talking in a hurry beside you, but you keep staring ahead, unable to move from your position, as a whole new bubble starts taking form in your chest and throat, taking over your senses, “And I know you didn’t expect that from me, hell, I certainly wasn’t expect that myself, but it just happened and I was confused, but I’m not anymore, I know what I’m feeling and… Y/N?” he suddenly interrupts his rambling, “Are you… are you crying?”

You turn to him again and see the widening of his eyes when he catches the evidence for his suspicion, “Yes,” you cry out, as tears run down unbidden your cheeks, “Yes, I’m crying, I’m sorry,” you hide your face in your hands.

“No, no, no, no, sweetheart,” he reaches over you, desperation etched on his voice as he wraps your shaking shoulder in a tight hug, “Please don’t cry… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything…I don’t wanna see you like that. Please don’t cry.” His voice shakes, “Or I’m gonna cry, too.” And as if on cue, you hear the sniffles.

Burying your cheeks on his shirt, dampening the fabric with tears, you let yourself be hugged by him. And, just like that, you live the most pathetic scene of your life, two grown ass adults holding each other and sobbing like babies, without saying anything for God knows how many minutes.

You have no idea what has come over you, but hearing him saying that, right after being proposed by Eddie, after finding yourself with such conflicting thoughts and feelings, must have triggered something inside you.

When your shoulders stop shaking so much and the tears seem to give you two a truce, you lean away from him, “I’m sorry, Bucky,” you say, wiping the wetness from the corner of your eyes with your fingers, “This was ridiculous, God… I guess it’s been an intense day…” you take in a shuddering breath.

“No, no,” He swipes the back of his hand on his cheeks, brushing out the wetness from there, “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m the one who’s sorry. Let’s forget all about it-”

“No,” you cut him off, “No, Bucky, it’s ok, I’m glad you told me,” you put some softness in your voice for the huge man who has just cried his eyeballs out with you, “But… Are you sure? I mean… it’s you.” Shrugging your shoulder, you gesture towards him with both your hands, “That’s not what you want, it’s against all of your life philosophy, your lifestyle.”

He chuckles and his gaze drops, before they’re on you again, “You know, I’ve never taken anyone else to that burger joint, I’ve never shown that picture to anyone and even less talked about my sisters… my mom... Then our night together, right here in your bedroom?” He points towards the room, “I’ve had tons, I mean, tons of sex my whole life, I don’t need to lie about that. But I never had a night like that with anyone else. That wasn’t just sex and I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

You’re entranced by his words and you feel yourself shrinking under the intensity of his gaze on you, of the sentiment that sweeps into his voice. There’s not a bone in you that makes you contradict what he’s saying. It was a special night. Moments ago, you were still daydreaming about it.

“I know it sounds weird coming from me,” he breathes, “I know everything I said and even bragged about before is coming to bite me in the ass right now,” his jaw tightens, ”But I’m certain of what I’m feeling… I think about you all the damn time, sweetheart… I look at you and I wanna laugh and cry all at once,” he scoffs, gesturing towards his reddened eyes, and you can’t help but to let out a breathy smile. “I’m in love with you,” he bores his gaze on you. “Fuck whatever I ever wanted before. I want you now.”

You take in a deep breath, trying to breathe in the air his words knocked out of your lungs. You’re in a loss for words. In all the scenarios you pictured for this deal of Bucky and yours - which weren’t that many, since you jumped in with the mindset of seizing the moment with him – you’ve never seen that one happening: him coming over to tell you he’s fallen for you. As much as his confession sparks something inside you, that’s so unlike him, that you need to be the voice of reason there.

“Bucky…” you call softly, putting your other hand over the one that you’re already holding. You look down at it, before turning to him again, watching anxious blue eyes on yours, “You said Eddie only decided to come here and propose after seeing me with you and after trying to hook up with someone else. As you said, it shows that he’s just being impulsive and might not know what he genuinely wants, right?”

“Yeah…” He nods after clearing his throat. Apparently, that’s not what he expected you to say after he poured his heart out for you, “Because that’s the truth, the guy doesn’t know what he really wants.” He shrugs.

You offer him a tight but kind smile, “Don’t you see the similarity here?”

His forehead creases at your question.

You keep a gentle gaze on him as you speak, “This morning you went out of here after Eddie called. You knew he was coming. Then, you tried hooking up with Amanda… That didn’t work out…” You shake your head, “Now you’re here, telling me you’re in love with me, after practically seeing me with someone else and trying to have sex with another woman and not being able to go through with it.”

You see realization dawning on his face, as he understands what you’re trying to say, “No… no, that’s different.” He swiftly shakes his head.

“How so?” You insist.

“I know what I’m feeling, Y/n.” He says with firmness in his voice, “I’ve been trying to understand these feelings for a while now. The situation may have pushed me further, but it’s not the cause of anything. I’m not acting by impulse, please believe me,” he begs.

“I’m not saying you’re not feeling anything, Bucky,” you counter, “Our time together was so special,” you smile, “I’m not blind to that… and I think… I think I-I-“

Your mouth shuts and you bite your lower lip. You almost say that there’s a chance you’ve developed feelings for him, too. But you don’t really know what those feelings mean and what you really want. You don’t really know much about them, but it’s been just one day and one night that have made you notice those sentiments… you don’t wanna lead him or even yourself on, based on feelings that have just shown up and you still have no idea where this is going.

Plus… there’s Eddie. The mere thought of him drops a weight over your shoulders.

“I-I’m confused, Bucky,” you say, instead of saying all of that, but that’s not a lie. Not at all. “I don’t really know what to feel or think… There’s a great chance you’re confused by your own feelings, too. And maybe after Eddie appeared on the scene those feelings might be doing a number on your mind and making you take them as something deeper than they really are.”

“That’s… you’re wrong, I know what I’m feeling,” he says softly, his head dropping to your joined hands, where he caresses your skin with his thumb.

“Bucky…” you sigh, “Even if you’re really in love with me like you say you are… You never wanted that,” you try to reason, as he looks up at you, “With that kind of sentiment comes commitment, and commitment is not a piece of cake. Most of the time it leads to a broken heart, most likely two. Believe me, I know.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you. Your heart is tight by the traces of sorrow you catch behind the look on his face and you hate to be the one to put it there. But at that moment, that’s all you can give him,

“As for me,” you nod, as if to engrave the thought into your mind, “I think what I need now is to be alone for a while… My entire adult life I was never single. I need to figure out who I am without having someone to lean on emotionally, physically and… I don’t know...You-you know what I’m saying? But, please, I don’t wanna hurt you, I-” You stammer, annoyed that the air you’re breathing suddenly seems to not be enough to fill your lungs.

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, dragging himself through the cushions to come even closer to you as he notices your increasing distress, “It’s ok,” he says, taking your hand to his lips and placing a kiss on it, coaxing a short gasp out of you, “I get what you’re saying, and I respect that. I do.” He offers you a comforting smile.

The sorrow you’ve seen moments ago is not on his gaze anymore, and it helps to ease down your breathing and mind, driving you to focus solely on him, his voice and what he’s saying.

“I don’t want to force myself or my feelings on you, and you don't need to worry about hurting me, sweetheart. It's ok. I promise. I’m a grown ass man, I might’ve been confused, but I can handle my own feelings.” A kind of sweetness you’ve never heard from him laces his voice, “I just need you to understand one thing, though.” His features turn a bit more serious, “I know what I’m feeling, no matter how much time passes and no matter if it’s the same for you or not. It doesn’t change anything for me. I was confused before, I was. But I’m not anymore.”

“Ok,” a low mumble is all you manage to provide as an answer, stunned by both the words and the certainty he reveals through them.

“Are we good?” He checks.

“We’re good.”

He smiles, a bright and gentle grin, and it’s the Bucky you’ve spent almost every day of the last month on his demeanor again. You smile back, feeling your shoulders a bit lighter.

“I have one more question, though. I’m new to this whole express feelings stuff,” he grimaces playfully, “Did I screw everything up?” He asks, but there’s no weight on his words while his forehead scrunches up a bit, but the smile lingers on his lips.

You laugh a little, before bringing a hand to cup his cheek, “You didn’t screw anything up and I’m not dismissing what you’re telling me you’re feeling, Bucky, it’s not that at all.” You shake your head and it feels cozy inside your chest as he leans his cheek against the touch of your hand, “I just think we both need to take our time and understand our feelings straight. You and me.” You lightly stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“Does that mean our deal is off?” He asks with a cringing curve on his lips.

You let out a chuckle, bringing your hand to your lap, “Let’s call it suspended for now, how about that?”

He shrugs, “Ok, but Little Bucky down there is going to be very upset, he turned out to have a strict preference.”

“Oh my God.” You let out a loud laugh, “Little Bucky? Seriously?”

“Don’t make fun of him, he’s very sensitive today.” He puts on an exaggerated pout.

Your head falls back from how much you laugh, being followed shortly by him. You don’t know if it’s a habit developed in the last month or something bigger than that, but you can’t help when your lips and his meet. He sighs through the kiss, which starts slow and gentle, but next thing you know, you’re both breathing hard and you have your fingers buried through his locks as he pulls you by the waist, his broad body on yours, his arms around you, his heat burning you up while your heart beats fast against his chest…

You have to put together every little ounce of strength inside you to part your lips from him, letting your forehead rest against his.

“Bucky…” you whisper, trying to catch some hair, “We shouldn’t-“.

“See you around, sweetheart,” he says back and, after placing a long kiss on your forehead, he gets up and walks towards the door, sporting a cheeky little smirk on his lips that makes your heart race even more.

~~~

To be continued...

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #it's a deal #bucky barnes series #it's a deal chapter 10

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disturbedbydesign · 3 years ago

Text

Lie To Me - Chapter 7

Pairing: dark!Professor!Bucky x reader

Chapter 7 Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: After getting a spot in Professor Barnes’s coveted writing workshop, you start to form a close relationship with your handsome new teacher. But Bucky Barnes is not who he appears to be, and once he has you where he wants you, he’s not going to let you go.

Warnings (for complete work): noncon/rape, dubcon, sexual assault, daddy kink (not ddlg), voyeurism (hidden camera), blackmail, manipulation, age gap (reader is 21, Bucky is late 30s), student/teacher dynamic, physical violence, reader has history of physical and sexual abuse by a family member, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of campus rape, body image issues (reader has scars), ableism, smut/explicit sex (oral, vaginal, anal), unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), choking, biting, breeding.

A/N: Written for the @writing-in-the-dark-bingo challenge (bingo card at end of chapter). This one got away from me but there’s just something about creepy manipulative Professor Bucky that really does it for me. I apologize in advance for how messy this gets. Also, please heed warnings. This is a dark!fic and you are responsible for your own media consumption. 18+ only, no minors.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter Seven

Zara isn’t picking up her phone, but the only thing you need in the world is to talk to her because it’s clear to you now that her sudden departure is a result of Bucky’s actions—which means that, really, it’s because of you. You don’t know exactly how much you want to tell her and that terrifies you, because you would have never even considered anything other than the complete truth until now. You don’t even know what the truth is. You want to believe Bucky, but something about it is all a bit too convenient.

You need to know what Zara knows, if all of this has shaken some new memories loose from the deepest darkest recesses of her mind. You need to know that this is some form of justice and not just a game Bucky is playing with you as the prize.

You’re chainsmoking on the steps of your dorm when Zara finally calls back.

“Hey,” she says, “so I guess you know by now. I would have told you as soon as I heard but the lawyer said I shouldn’t say anything to anyone until Peter was officially off campus.”

“Zara...” You trail off, not knowing how the hell to even begin, so you just ask her if she’s ok because that’s really the only thing that matters.

“Yeah,” she replies, “I’m ok. I feel… I don’t know. I mean, I still don’t remember much. I didn’t know there was a fucking video.” You hear her swallow hard on the other end of the line before she continues. “I don’t remember that at all. But, I mean, I remember Peter being at the party and being a total prick as usual. So I guess I’m happy that at least someone has to suffer some fucking consequences. It should be all of them, though. I would burn that fucking frat house to the ground if I could.”

“So you think Peter did it?” you ask.

“Why? Do you not? What’s going on? You sound weird.”

You sigh. “It’s just…” You almost tell her everything, but you stop yourself. “I just… I guess you never really know people.”

“Peter has always been a misogynistic asshole. Are you really that surprised?”

“I guess not,” you concede, because she’s not wrong.

“Enough about me. How’d it go with Barnes the other night? Please tell me you fucked him.”

You take a deep drag of your cigarette and exhale. “I did.”

“Oh thank God,” she exclaims. “Tell me everything. I need a distraction. I’m sick of thinking about all this shit.”

You close your eyes and replay the night in your head and you just can’t bring yourself to tell her your story. Something about the whole thing seems far too intimate to share, which is objectively ridiculous considering all of the things that you and Zara have told each other over the years. Still, you can’t bring yourself to go through it in detail.

“It was good,” you say. “Really good.”

“Oh come on. That’s all I get? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“He’s… uh… big. Really big.”

She giggles. “I knew that man was packing. I just knew it. He has the biggest dick energy.”

“Yeah, it was almost too big honestly, but we made it work.”

“I’ve never been prouder of you.” You can feel her beaming on the other end of the line and you can tell she wants to ask a million questions but she allows you your privacy—for now. “Alright, well I’m sure I’ll be able to get more out of you over a bottle or two of rosé when I get back. Speaking of which, I’ll be back in a couple days. My parents want me to stick around for a bit ‘to make sure I’m ok’ but really it’s because they are not ok, and honestly I don’t give a fuck because the school is letting me get away with murder right now when it comes to absences and classwork.”

“As they fucking should,” you reply. “I miss you, Z.”

“Miss you too, honey. I’ll see you soon, ok?”

“Kay, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

When you hang up, a part of you feels lighter because she really did sound happy about the outcome of the situation, but you can’t help that nagging feeling that something about this is very, very wrong. You look at your phone and see a missed call from Bucky and several texts.

I’m so sorry I know you don’t want to talk to me but please just text me you got home ok

I’m worried about you babygirl

You can be as mad as you want at me I just need to know you’re ok

I’m sorry baby I love you

You almost drop your phone on the ground when you read the three most terrifying words in the English language. You want to call Zara back, and in any other situation you would, but you can’t—not this time. She doesn’t have the context and you can’t give it to her. You sit with it a minute and decide to text Bucky back.

Where are you?

He responds immediately.

Office please come back baby.

You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. But you do.

📚

A few drinks is hardly enough to get Bucky drunk, but you don’t know that. He goes about making a mess of himself—shirt untucked and tie loosened, hair mussed up, a bit of scotch spilled down the front of his shirt to make him smell like a bar rag. He sits on the couch, tips over a glass on the floor next to him, makes his body go limp, and he waits for you.

It’s not long before you’re opening his office door and taking in the sight of him.

“Jesus, Bucky.”

“Hey baby,” Bucky slurs. “C’mere.”

He stretches his metal arm out and beckons you, and when you get close enough, he grabs you by the wrist and presses your hand to his lips.

“So sorry, babygirl. Love you so much.”

You yank your hand away. “You’re drunk.”

“Maybe,” he replies.

“Jesus, you reek of booze. How much did you drink?”

“Dunno,” he says.

You roll your eyes at him and he looks at you with a soft expression designed to melt your angry little heart. “Forgive me,” he begs. “Please.”

He can see you start to crack—your urge to nurture overtaking your anger at him.

“Goddammit,” you sigh. “I’ll go get you some water.”

“No, stay,” he says, grabbing for your hand again, and this time you let him take it. “Need you babygirl. Need you so bad.”

You sigh again and Bucky can see your internal struggle, but you give in, as he knew you would. “Let me drive you home.”

“No ‘s ok I can drive,” he says, and you laugh.

“Absolutely not. Come on. Let’s go.”

Bucky stumbles his way down to the parking lot behind the Castle, half leaning on you as he goes. He drops the keys to his Jaguar when he tries to hand them to you. As annoyed as you are with him, he can see on your face that you’re excited to drive the Jag. You slide into the driver’s seat and start the car, and while you’re trying to figure out how to adjust the seat, Bucky reaches over and slides his hand up your thigh.

“Don’t,” you say, but you’re trying to hide a smile. “Keep acting up and I’m gonna steal your car.”

“I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

You look at him and he flashes his best puppy dog eyes and you smile. “You’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow when you wake up and your car is gone.”

“Wanna wake up with you,” he slurs.

Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off you as you drive the short distance to his place, watching you handle the stick shift like a pro, wishing you were handling something else. When you pull up and park, he reaches over and touches your face and you let him.

“Come up,” he begs. “Please.”

“I’m going home, Bucky. I think you can manage from here.”

“It’s late, baby. Don’t want you walkin home. ‘S not safe.”

He watches you wrestle with the decision for a minute but he knows you’ll stay.

“Fine, but I’m still really mad at you.”

Bucky stumbles upstairs, his eyes glued to your ass. When he gives it a little squeeze, you turn around and swat at him.

“Stop that.” You scold him but the little smile on your face betrays you.

“It’s your fault for havin a perfect ass,” he says. “Wanna take a bite out of it.”

You’re laughing now and shaking your head but he knows you love it when he praises your body. He tries to kiss you when you get to the living room but you push him away.

“Nope, nope. Absolutely not. You smell awful. Go take a shower, brush your teeth, drink some water.”

He nods and heads up to his room, leaving you on the couch scrolling through true crime documentaries on Netflix.

Bucky takes his time in the shower “sobering up” and throws on just a pair of grey sweatpants, slung low on his hips. When he goes back downstairs he finds you exactly where he left you. Your eyes go wide when you see him and he watches you lick your lips.

“Cold shower cleared my head a bit,” he says, running a hand through his damp hair. “That was… not my finest hour. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’ve been there. Figured I’d return the favor.”

He smiles at you. “I appreciate that. So, I checked my phone and… uh... about that text I sent you…”

“It was a drunk text, Bucky. It doesn’t count. Let’s just forget about it.”

“I meant what I said.”

“Please don’t. Not tonight. Today has been… a lot.”

“Yeah, ok. You’re right.” He looks down at his feet. “I should probably just shut up and go to bed, huh?”

“Probably.”

He looks up at you with needy eyes. “You coming?” he asks, but he knows from the way your eyes are drawn to the bulge in his sweatpants exactly what your answer will be.

📚

It’s hard to stay mad at Bucky, especially when he’s looking at you with those pretty blue eyes and wearing those goddamn sweatpants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. He’s not even hard and you can see everything, and you hate yourself for basically salivating at the sight of him, but he’s just so fucking hot. So you go to bed with him, because of course you do, and you decide to let him make it up to you.

He’s on you the second you get upstairs, his hungry hands tearing off your shirt and grabbing fistfuls of your ass as he kisses up your neck. When he drags your earlobe between his teeth, you hiss and he grabs your hand and places it on his growing bulge.

“See what you do to me,” he whispers, and you start to stroke him through his sweatpants.

Even through the material, you can feel every ridge and vein. He groans as you grip him tight and swirl your thumb around the tip. You can feel a little damp spot form under your finger and all you want to do is taste him. You reach into his waistband and pull him out, and when you drop to your knees and look up at him, he runs his thumb across your cheek.

“You don’t have to,” he says.

“I want to,” you reply.

You grab the base of his cock and lick a slow stripe up the vein on its underside. The guttural moan that comes out of him shoots straight to your core. You swirl your tongue around the tip and get a taste of him, and when you take him in your mouth, he lets out a long, low “Fuuuuuuck.”

You know he’s far too big for you, and you have to practically unhinge your jaw like a goddamn python to take more than the tip of him, but you do it because all you want is to turn him into a quivering mess—the way he’s done to you so many times. He’s got his hands in your hair as you struggle to take more of him, but he doesn’t force you to take him deeper. You know he probably wants to, but he restrains himself.

“Look so pretty wrapped around my cock. You’re doing so good, babygirl.”

You moan at his praise and you want to take more of him. You wish you could give him what he needs, and you really do try, but your gag reflex is strong and when his hips jerk a little and he hits the back of your throat, you pop off of him and start coughing.

“Shit,” he says, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to-”

“I want to,” you say. “Lemme try again.”

You spit on his cock and stroke him before taking him in your mouth again, trying to focus on relaxing your throat and breathing through your nose as you take him a little deeper with each bob of your head. You gag when he breaches your throat but you keep going, determined to take as much of him as you can. You grip his hips tight, digging your nails into his flesh as your eyes water.

“That’s it. There you go. You can do it, baby. That’s my girl.”

Tears are running down your cheeks and your chin is drenched in spit and you can barely breathe but you keep going. He starts to thrust into you slowly, his hands guiding your head with a gentle pressure, and you let him do it even though your throat is on fire and your lungs are screaming at you to stop. He starts to move a little faster and pull your hair a little harder but you know he’s still holding back.

“That’s a good girl. Taking my cock so good, baby.”

You pop off him for a second because you can’t fucking breathe and he grabs your chin and tilts your head up, watching your chest heave as you gulp down as much air as you can.

“Such a good girl for me,” he says.

You’ve got maybe another minute in you so you decide to just really go for it, taking him back down your throat and pulling his hips toward you and letting him fuck your face. The sound of it is absolutely sinful and he’s moaning and groaning and you absolutely cannot get enough of the noises he makes.

“Fuck fuck fuck, baby stop I’m gonna cum.”

But you don’t stop, because you’ve come this far. Might as well finish it. You take him all the way down, your nose pressed against his flesh as he shoots his load down your throat, and you do your best to swallow around him. He’s still breathing heavily as he pulls you off of him and lifts you off the ground, taking in the sight of your absolutely ruined face as you gasp for air. He wipes the tears from your face and kisses you softly, tasting himself on your lips.

“So pretty when you cry, babygirl,” he says, and you clench your thighs together because you are absolutely soaked and aching for him and he knows it.

He walks you backwards to the bed and pushes you down and you spread your legs wide for him. He takes in the sight of you, wrecked and writhing on his bed, desperate for his touch. He strokes himself while he looks at you and he’s almost hard again and you don’t know where this man’s stamina comes from but thank fucking god for it because you absolutely need him inside you as quickly as possible.

“Fuck me,” you whine. “Please.”

“You want it, babygirl?” he asks, and you nod. “Then beg for it.”

“Give it to me. I need it so bad.”

“What do you need?”

“Need you inside me.”

“You need to get fucked, babygirl?”

“Pleaaaaase,” you whine.

“Then say it,” he commands, and you know exactly what he wants.

“Fuck me, Daddy.”

He gives you a wicked smile before he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. Your cunt is dripping but he spits on it anyway, rubbing his cock through your folds to get it nice and wet.

“Turn over,” he says. “Hands and knees. Get that pretty ass in the air.”

You do as he commands and you can feel him so close to you but not touching you and it makes you whine and throw it back a little just to feel something. You hear him chuckle and then you feel him sink his teeth into the meat of your ass with a pressure that’s sure to leave a mark.

“Told you I wanted to take a bite.”

He grabs your hips roughly and enters you with a single thrust and you keen at the feel of all of him so quickly. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust before he starts to fuck you.

“This what you need, babygirl?”

“Mhmm.”

“So fucking tight and wet for me.”

You feel his flesh hand come down hard on your ass and you curse as your walls clench around him.

“You like that, huh? I can feel you fuckin squeezin me.”

He slaps you again, harder this time, and it makes you absolutely lose your mind.

“More, Daddy.”

“Oh, you do like that, huh?”

He brings his hand down on your other cheek this time and you reach down to rub your clit because you need to cum so bad it actually physically hurts. He laughs and grabs your arm, pulling it around your back and holding it there.

“Uh uh, babygirl. Not yet.”

“Please, Daddy. I need it.”

“You’ll get it. But first you’re gonna take my cock like a good girl.”

He pulls you upright by the hair and fucks up into you, his metal hand toying with your breasts while his flesh hand pulls your head all the way back.

“Look at me,” he says, sweat dripping off his forehead onto yours. “Wanna see your pretty face when you cum.”

A cold metal finger finds your clit and starts working it in tight circles and you’re so fucking close but you need more.

“Harder, Daddy,” you beg, and he obliges, and it hurts so good but it’s still not enough for you. “Harder. Harder.”

He tightens his grip on your hair as he snaps his hips and you feel the tears start to pool at the corner of your eyes.

“That’s it, babygirl. Cry for me. Cum for me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and let the tears stream down your cheeks and he licks his lips as he watches them fall. You can barely find the words to tell him you’re right there and don’t stop, but he can feel it and see it in your eyes, and just as you’re about to lose it, he pulls your head to the side and sinks his teeth into your shoulder.

The noise you make when you cum is inhuman, and every time your pussy clenches around his cock, Bucky whispers “good girl” in your ear. When you’re done, he lets go of your hair and pushes your body forward. You barely have enough strength to hold yourself up so you throw your hands up against the headboard so you can push back against him.

“Fuuuuck, yes. Throw that ass back. Fuck the cum out of me.”

You slam yourself onto him as hard and fast as you can and it’s not long before he’s pulling out and flipping you over and painting white hot ropes across your chest and your stomach. You have no idea how there’s so much of it but it just keeps shooting out of him, and you can’t help but be mesmerized by how absolutely beautiful he looks and sounds when he cums.

When he’s finally done, he looks at you so softly—like he’s an entirely different person from the man who’d been tearing you to fucking pieces for the last hour.

“You ok?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, a fucked-out smile on your face, “but you made a mess.”

“Yeah, but it’s a real pretty mess.”

Chapter Eight >>>

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cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years ago

Text

Prompt: Veritaserum is one of the most powerful potions in the wizarding world, a few drops able to make the one who takes it to reveal their deepest secrets with no hesitation. So of course Fred and George learn how to make it for a prank, however it quickly backfires when they test it out on Y/N, who happens to have a crush on the older Weasley twin.

Warnings: swearing? Kind of angsty for like two seconds, That’s it really.

A/N: Sorry I haven’t written in so long, finals are kicking my ass and I barely have time to myself anymore. That being said, I hope you enjoy! This idea has been rattling around my brain for a while.

You sat in the Gryffindor common room, sipping hot coco and enjoying the rare silence as you read a book. You had just gotten to the end of your chapter when a pair of red haired boys walked in, interrupting your solitude.

“Hello Y/N” George greeted you, sitting in the open spot next to you, George following his movements on the other side of you.

“What do you want?” You asked, not looking up from your book. You could tell by Fred's’ tone that he was planning something, and you had no interest in being a part of it.

“Now dear Y/N, why do you think we want something from you?” Fred asked, having a very similar expression to his brother.

Instead of replying you simply gave Fred a look as if to ask ‘do I look stupid?’ Fred got the message and his face shifted from a fake casual look to a smile.

“You know us so well” He laughed, causing you to shake your head and close your book.

“Unfortunately” You sighed, putting your book to the side to give the boys your full attention.

In fact, you did know the twins well, almost better than they knew themselves. You had met them in your first year, and when you were sorted into Gryffindor, the three of you became inseparable, in fact, you were one of the only people who were able to tell them apart. However, you couldn’t deny that you and Fred spent a bit more time together, whether it be in class or on the quidditch pitch, you were constantly making each other smile and laugh, and you knew you could tell him anything. Well, except for the fact that you also happened to have a massive crush on him since fourth year. That would remain a secret.

You watched as the boys moved to sit on the couch across from you, now facing you with a similar smile on their faces.

“We have what could quite possibly be, the best prank in Hogwarts history” George said, trying to sell you on their idea, which you still haven't heard.

“What would you say” Fred started “if you could ask Snape any question you wanted. Anything from test answers to the color of his underwear-”

“Eww” You interrupted

“Exactly! The blackmail potential, the humiliation, the revenge. What would you say?” George finished looking at you.

“I would say you’ve both lost your marbles. Snape hardly speaks let alone confesses those types of things” You said

“But what if... We had a way to make sure he did” Fred asked.

You finally put the pieces together, your jaw dropping to the floor. “How did you-”

“Snape has a book of rare spells and potions” George started

“And we checked it out for the weekend” Fred finished.

“So you stole it” You stated

“More like borrowed, for educational purposes” Fred argued

“Its all set up. We’ll sneak it into his pumpkin juice before class, spread out the word and by second period tomorrow, we’ll have gotten revenge from all the torment. All you need to do, is make sure the potion works” George said, making your eyes widen.

“I’m not taking that!” You practically yelled. You trusted the boys to not ask you any questions that were too personal, that being said, there was still a lot of room for embarrassment, or for the potion to go completely wrong.

“Oh come on Y/N, worst case scenario it doesn’t work” George defended, but Fred could tell you still weren’t convinced.

“Hey” Fred said, leaning forward and gently grabbing your hand, squeezing it comfortingly “I promise we wouldn’t ask if there were risks that could hurt you”

You were to focused on containing the butterflies that had erupted in your stomach from Fred’s touch to notice how George looked between the two of you, or how he suddenly seemed to have an idea.

“Ok fine” You said, causing the two boys to cheer, before George turned and dug out a small glass vial from his bag.

“Two drops should do the trick” George said, adding a few drops of the liquid into your drink from earlier.

You picked up the drink and eyed it, considering backing out but the thought of finally getting back at Snape for humiliating you, and so many others took over. Taking a breath, you finished your drink and set down the mug.

“How long until it starts working?” You asked after a few seconds, not feeling any different.

“It should take effect immediately” Fred said, looking at you for any sign of discomfort or change in mood. “What’s two plus two?”

“Four” You said

“You need to ask better questions than that! Something to prove she can only tell the truth” George said, turning his attention back to you “How old where you when you had your first kiss?”

“Fourteen” You said, surprised at how the words seemed to tumble out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“What’s your most embarrassing story from Hogwarts?” Fred asked

“I once accidentally called Professor McGonagall mom in front of the entire class in first year... fuck you weren't supposed to know about that. Stop asking embarrassing questions you git!” You yelled at the older red head, who simply laughed and shook his head.

“No, I think this is quite fun actually” He said, before George continued.

The questions went on for a few minutes, asking you things from what your favorite color was, to the worst date you’ve ever been on, but finally, the two red heads seemed convinced.

“Alright, it seems like its working” George started, but the glint in his eye showed that he wasn’t quite finished yet. “Who do you have a crush on?”

You couldn’t cover your mouth fast enough. You couldn’t think to run away before the name was tumbling from your lips. You couldn’t do anything but sit and watch in horror, as you answered the question.

“Fred Weasley”

The room went dead silent, the only sound coming from the clock in the corner of the room.

“Y/N I-” Fred started, but you stood up and ran out of the room before he could say anything else.

“I knew it!” George shouted with glee once you were out of earshot, causing Fred to whip his gaze to glare at his brother.

“George what the fuck!” Fred yelled, anger evident in his voice.

“What? You’ve been pining over her like a sad puppy for over a year. Now you finally know” George defended, watching as his older brother quickly stood to follow you.

You had ran as fast as you could, weaving through students and running through corridors before you finally found yourself sitting at a hidden spot by the black lake, finally letting the tears you had been fighting go.

You had liked Fred since fourth year. You had been yelled at in front of the whole class, and were so humiliated you skipped the rest of the school day. Fred had found you, and talked with you all day, making you laugh and smile, not leaving until you finally felt better.

Ever since then your feelings grew. This last summer, you had spent the summer at the Weasley’s and found it a bit hard to sleep one night. You had gone outside to watch the stars, and Fred had joined you. You spend hours talking about life, your futures, your friendships, and at one point, he had looked at you in a way that made you wonder if maybe your feelings weren't one sided. Now you could see that wasn’t the case.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching you. Without looking up, you already knew it was Fred. You were now sitting with your knees pulled into your chest, your chin resting on the tops of your knees as you looked out at the water.

“This spot taken?” Fred asked, motioning to the spot beside you. You didn’t answer, just shook your head, giving the boy permission to take a seat next to you.

“The potion should have worn off by now, so you shouldn’t have to worry about it anymore” Fred said softly, as if not to spook you.

“You don’t have to do this you know” You mumbles, still refusing to meet Fred’s eyes, who were now looking at you with confusion.

“Do what?” He asked

“Try and make me feel better. I know were friends and everything, but I know you don't feel the same way, and I’d really rather just be alone then pretend everything is ok between us.” You said, trying not to let anymore tears fall.

Fred heard these words and felt his heart break. Fred, unknown to you, had also shared your feelings. Your smile could light up any room. You were so unconditionally kind to everyone you met. Your laugh was his favorite sound, and he had made it his goal to try and hear it as often as possible. He had been trying to drop hints, flirtatious comments, or small gestures, and that one night at the burrow, where you were under the stars, he thought he had finally made it clear how he felt. Apparently not, and he didn’t want to waste any more time trying to be subtle.

“See, now I know the potion isn’t working anymore” Fred chuckled, causing you to look at him with a confused expression.

“What?” You asked

“I do feel the same way” Fred said softly

“Fred... you don’t have to say it if you don't-” You started

“Hold on” Fred interrupted, digging through his pocket and pulling out the same small vial from earlier, before tilting his head back and taking a swig. “Now ask me”

“Oh my god, Fred I-” You asked.

“Ask me who I have a crush on” Fred said simply.

“Fine... Who do you have a crush on Fred?” You asked quietly, almost afraid of what the answer would be.

“Y/N L/N” Fred answered, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“You do?” You asked, a smile forming onto your lips.

“Yes” He replied, a smile growing across his face as well.

“Well why do you like me?” You asked, a hint of teasing to your voice.

“Well, you’re beautiful, you’re the funniest person I’ve ever met, you are so kind to everyone you meet, you’re super smart, you have a great ass- wait fuck that wasn’t supposed to come out” Fred said, about to continue but you kept him from going on by finally closing the space between you and pressing your lips to his.

Fred responded instantly, smiling into the kiss before moving his hands to your waist, while yours went to hold his face. You stayed like this for a moment, moving in sync with each other before finally pulling away for air.

“Told you I liked you back” Fred said, making you laugh before re connecting your lips but only for a moment.

“So I’m the funniest person you’ve ever met?” You asked.

“Yes... hey not fair!” Fred complained, making you laugh once again.

“Ok ok fine” You said, allowing Fred to reconnect your lips once again, before breaking away again.

“You think I have a great ass?”

“Yes- Y/N!”

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A/N: Hiiiii! I hope you guys enjoyed! I’ll hopefully be writing more in the future since the school semester is slowing down a bit, but until then check out my other work if you want or leave a request. Thank you all for reading!

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley headcannon #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine

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