#like I said. don’t be shy. make the man bleed for love

[halfthebrain]

Hiii, I just wanted to remind you to write Harvey Specter as unhinged as you want him to be. Don’t be shy <3. Let him go to all the lengths to keep Mike by his side. Let him lose his mind. Let him burn his whole firm down. His actions have one reason and one reason only. And that is, Mike.

[userchai]

ROOOOWWWWWWW

REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???

Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.

Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.

I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED

- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷

Freak Like Me - E.M.

thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽

Word count- 1.3K

Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!

-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!

“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.

He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.

You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.

You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.

“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”

You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.

Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.

You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.

He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”

“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.

You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.

tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - fem!reader, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, prolonged imprisonment.

“Mistress prisoner?”

There was a knock, the sound of hoofed feet shuffling against a tile floor. You shrunk into yourself, suddenly thankful you’d chosen to take such a claustrophobic linen closet to seek refuge in, that Neuvillette’s awful gowns provided so much fabric for you to bury yourself in.

“Mistress prisoner? Are you alright?”

Another knock, a round of hushed whispering. Clearly, he’d sent more than one, this time.

“Should we get a healer for you, mistress?”

You swore under your breath, burying your face in your knees. Curse your bleeding heart.

Slowly, taking pains to wipe the lingering tears from your cheeks without wrinkling the fine silk of your sleeve, you pushed yourself to your feet. He was a bastard of a man, an underhanded thief masquerading as the living embodiment of justice, but tragically, Neuvillette had caught on to the only weakness you had in this palace of unearned punishments and hollow promises. You would be able to bear it if he thought of you as a petulant child, too stubborn to accept his protection or his love, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be quite so heartless when it came to the melusines.

You pulled the door open, resting your shoulder against the frame. He’d sent three, this time – all wearing modified garde uniforms and none standing taller than your waist. They were clustered close together, but as you emerged, the centermost girl stepped forward, this one totting pastel pink skin and curling horns and cheeks you’d give anything to squeeze. “We spoke with Monsieur Neuvillette,” she started, clearly shy despite having appointed herself as the leader of their little group. When she paused, her gaze fell away from yours, dropping to her feet. “He said you wouldn’t mind if we asked why you don’t want to attend the opera with us, tonight.”  

Oh, you were going to throttle that old man.

You forced yourself to smile. No part of you wanted to be seen in public with your captor, to hear onlookers praise his kindness, his willingness to care for even the most irredeemable of criminals while knowing he wouldn’t make it past the first aria before finding some reason to pull you into some unused dressing room and abuse his authority yet again. But, explaining the length of your hatred to the creatures he showed so much fondness toward would be like trying to tell a child that their favorite candy was the source of their aching cavities. You were better off saving your breath. “Neuvillette didn’t mention that you’d be coming with us.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” It was the blue one, this time – with flowers dotted across her arms and legs and a tone so meek, it was all you could do not to take her into your arms and promise her that you’d go to as many operas as she could stand to attend. “He said it’d help to raise your spirits.”

You let out a soft coo, crouching down to their height. “It was a very sweet idea,” you said, fighting not to melt at the sight of their little, doe-like noses and big, star-filled eyes. “And I very much appreciate that you three would care enough to try and cheer me up. It’s only…”

You paused, clicked your tongue. Predictably, the third member of their little trio (who had yet to uncross her arms or drop her adorably pointed glare) chimed in. “What is it? We don’t have all day, y’know.”

“Well, I might not be at my best, but Monsieur Neuvillette’s been awfully lonely lately too.” Lonely – that was one way to put it. It was hard to imagine he’d even be capable of feeling anything so fundamentally human. “I’m afraid, if I’m having so much fun with all of you, he might feel a little left out. You can understand why I wouldn’t want to do that to him, can’t you?”

There was a round of nodding heads, of words of affirmation. The leader piped up first, both hands balled into fists and wide eyes bright with a resilient spark. “We won’t let Monsieur Neuvillette get lonely!”

“We won’t leave his side!”

“We’ll stick to him like glue!”

With a breath of a laugh, you pulled the little trio into your arms and press a kiss into the tops of their heads. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, girls. I’ll see you at the opera house tonight, and remember–“

This time, you didn’t have to fake your smile.

“Don’t let Neuvillette go a moment without your delightful company.”

[buckybabesonly]

I Wanna Be Yours

Summary: You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Shy!Insecure!Reader

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: Casual sex (?), misunderstandings, self-deprecation

A/N: I’m actually not very happy with how this turned out but I hope some of you might enjoy it anyway?

Word count: 4.8k

You had never fallen in love before until you met Bucky.

You had spent your whole life wondering when it would happen to you - when you would feel that heart-racing, mind-blowing, bliss-inducing love that you saw so often in movies and read in novels.

Falling for him had been unexpected, like you had been turning corners in an endless maze until suddenly - there he was. This unbelievably talented, unique, intelligent man who treated you with respect and kindness. He showed interest in you when you were too shy to approach him first, talking to you about the everyday mundane, making you feel special. Out of all the incredible people Bucky knew and interacted with, he made you feel like you counted, too.

You worked as a lab tech at the Avengers compound since landing the coveted job two years ago, working closely with Bruce Banner, and had witnessed first hand when Bucky joined the team. He had been quiet at first, introverted, but you watched as he blossomed like a flower. He revealed more of his great sense of humour, wicked smile and subtle charm which made you fall for him.

When you were around him, you felt like your nerve endings were on fire. Every touch from him on your arm, your shoulders, the small of your back, sent pulses shooting through your body and a flush of red straight to your cheeks. The power he had over you was undeniable, and you were certain he knew it, too.

The moment you realised you were in trouble was on a Saturday afternoon, four months after you first met him. He returned to the compound one day with a nasty gash on his forehead and blood crusting his hands, his eyes tired and face pale. The moment you saw him, you knew that if anything were to happen to him, you would have no idea how to cope. Even seeing him with relatively minor injuries made your chest clench in fear and anxiety.

Without a doubt, you had finally fallen in love.

Your first time with Bucky was unexpected. He was perched on one of the counters in your lab, snacking on a pack of cashews as he watched you peer into a microscope. You could barely focus on the work at hand, hyper aware of his presence and ocean blue eyes on your form.

“You’re not supposed to eat in here, you know,” you murmured, trying to hide your smile.

“I know,” he countered, continuing to chew obnoxiously.

You had been harbouring your secret feelings for him for over a year and a half. With every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to figure out what to do. Sometimes you felt that he reciprocated them - the constant flirting, the close touches, the excuses he made to spend time alone with one another. But you were too afraid to ask him outright how he felt about you, and too shy to make the first move.

“How’s your leg?” you asked, if only to distract yourself from your thoughts, referring to the injury he had received a few days ago.

“Much better. Strong as ever.” He kicked it out suddenly as to punctuate his words.

“Hey,” you exclaimed, alarmed. “I wish you would be more careful. Seems you’re always getting patched up lately.” You were frowning, and Bucky seemed amused at your concern.

“Occupational hazard.”

“Whatever. Just don’t bust open your stitches and bleed all over my lab. It’s just been sanitized.” You sniffed as Bucky cocked his head at you, flashing his adorable grin. “In fact I’m violating several health and safety rules just allowing you to be in here,” you said, trying to keep your face straight as Bucky threatened to tease a smile from you.

You turned back to the work at hand, working in comfortable silence as Bucky observed you. He soon seemed restless, however, and you looked up again when he jumped off his perch and walked over to you, bumping you with his shoulder. He smelled so good - like the forest after it had just rained. He looked down at you, giving you one of his trademark dimpled smiles yet again.

“What?”

“I’m bored,” he shrugged.

“Don’t you have top secret, dangerous mission stuff to do?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Your heart was beating fast as he leaned closer suddenly, eyes flickering from yours down to your mouth. He had been doing that a lot as of late.

“Rather do something else,” he said quietly, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

Time stood still. He suddenly closed the distance between you, and then you were kissing. His lips were soft, his hands gentle as they raised to cradle your face, sliding into your hair.

Your hands raised on their own accord to grab the edges of his leather jacket, pulling him closer, feeling surreal as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away just long enough for you to ask breathlessly, “Is this actually happening?”

All he did was chuckle and pull you back against him again.

You were positively floating as Bucky grabbed your hand and led you to his private floor in the compound, into his bedroom. You thought you were dreaming when he lay you down softly on his bed, undressing you both because your hands were shaking.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, eyes searching your face as you nodded.

“Yes,” you said instantly. “It’s okay.”

That night, you had sex with him for the first time. He held you tightly as he thrust inside you, peppering your face with kisses, making you whimper with pleasure until you both reached the inevitable climax.

You felt you could die happy now as you fell asleep in Bucky’s arms, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

Insecurity was an ugly thing.

You woke up a couple of hours before Bucky, lying with your eyes wide open as the ink black sky slowly lightened, the sun bleeding across the horizon.

You looked at this man lying beside you - this perfect specimen, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept, his chiselled jawline, ruggedly handsome features. The reality of what had happened was slowly sinking in, bringing with it doubts and questions as to what this meant.

God, he was so beautiful. So perfect in literally every way. You were fully aware of his contrast to you.

You had never considered yourself a beautiful girl. You had always been very conscious of your flaws, the way your body didn’t look quite the way you wanted it to, the way you felt that no one really gave you a second look.

I’m bored, Bucky had said yesterday. Were you just a cure for his boredom?

You gnawed at your bottom lip, uncertainties flooding into your system as you recalled the conversation and events leading up to the steamy encounter yesterday. Had he pulled you tighter against him, or had you simply imagined it? Did he do this all the time, or were you an exception?

People had causal sex all the time. You knew that Natasha and Steve had fooled around before and continued as friends only, and a lot of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents you knew had been known to sleep around interdepartmentally, lending to some interesting work gossip.

You knew you were stupid to let yourself think something serious might be happening. You and Bucky hadn’t even spoken about feelings or been on anything which remotely resembled a date. Bucky had been a proper charmer back in the day, you were well aware.

Your heart plummeted as you continued to think. You were suddenly so relieved you hadn’t revealed your feelings for him last night in your stupor. You had been so happy to be held by him, to be kissed by him, but that’s all it was - just a bit of fun. It had to be.

You felt Bucky stir beside you eventually, and you clutched the covers close to your naked body as he opened his eyes and smiled at you lazily.

What was the proper etiquette? Were you supposed to leave as soon as possible?

“Morning,” he said huskily. He looked so adorable that the panic in your chest quelled momentarily.

“Morning,” you smiled.

He yawned, his dark hair unruly as he ran his fingers through it.

“What’s the time?”

You cleared your throat. “Just gone seven. I have an early meeting with Bruce.”

“Mmm. Okay. You have to go now?” He looked at you with what may have been disappointment.

“I should probably get going, yeah. Need to prepare,” you said, eyes scanning the room for your clothes as you blushed at the thought of dressing in front of Bucky, even though he had seen you in all your naked glory last night.

Bucky suddenly moved in close and kissed you, causing your breath to hitch. You felt self conscious about how worn out you probably looked first thing in the morning, but melted into his touch nonetheless.

"Are we going to do this again?" he managed to get out against your lips.

"If you like," you answered carefully.

"I would very much like."

“Me too,” you said shyly, pulling back from Bucky and ducking your head down.

"So you're okay with this?"

Your heart constricted then, wanting to shout loudly that no, it’s not okay, and you actually wanted a serious relationship. But how terrifying would that be to suddenly dump your confessions onto him when the poor man had no idea how you felt?

But you didn’t know what was worse. Just being friends with benefits, or actually confessing your true feelings and pushing him away completely.

“Sure,” you said finally, keeping your voice purposely light. “It’s just sex, Bucky. It’s okay.”

Bucky froze then, his expression unreadable as he stared at you. His eyebrows were slightly drawn together, his lips stiffening as he swallowed.

“What?” you asked carefully, feeling inexplicably nervous.

Bucky was silent for a beat before responding. “Nothing.” He gestured between you with his vibranium hand, frowning ever so slightly. “This is nothing. Right?”

He wanted affirmation. You felt shame flood your chest.

“Right,” you said weakly, turning away before Bucky could see the tears in your eyes. “I better get going.”

He didn’t say anything as you hurriedly pulled on your clothes and mumbled an imperceptible “Bye” before you let yourself out.

As it turned out, it didn’t happen again.

You had no idea what you had done or how you had messed it up, but you had.

You had never done this before. Never casually hopped into bed with a man without something greater at play. You had one ex-boyfriend from your college days who was sweet but you were never truly in love with, and sex with him had happened a few months into your relationship.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to act around Bucky anymore. Didn’t know what he even wanted.

You thought he just wanted a fling. No strings attached. But after that day, somehow, the two of you were never alone again.

He gave you small, if a little curt, smiles now and again and sometimes spoke to you about work-related matters if necessary, but everything else had suddenly disappeared.

A monstrous, ugly feeling gnawed a hole in your chest, slowly over the next two weeks until it was a gaping cavern. Had you messed it up so badly that Bucky just wasn’t interested anymore? Or worse - had it been his objective all along to just get you into bed and then disappear?

No, he wasn’t like that, you decided, quickly dismissing the thought. The only logical conclusion, then, was that your performance had been so poor that he just didn’t want to be intimate again, but didn’t know how to tell you.

You felt so lost. This isn’t what you wanted, not really. You were never one for casual sex, and yet it killed you how Bucky was avoiding you now. You’d rather reduce yourself to his fuck buddy than nothing. That one night with him had been magical, had made you think about an entire lifetime of mornings waking up beside him.

Your misery was clear to see to all those around you, particularly Bruce, whom you had become very good friends with since you worked together in such close proximity.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, exactly two weeks after your night with Bucky. You were prodding about with some equipment you were working on for Sam’s wings. “And don’t just say you are, because I can tell you’re not.”

You shrugged half heartedly. “I guess I’m not. But I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You might feel better,” Bruce said, approaching you with a sympathetic tilt of the head. “You know I don’t usually pry, but I’m kind of worried. I can tell you’re upset.”

“Not upset,” you lied quickly, meeting his eyes. “Just…I need to get out of my own head, maybe.”

Bruce studied your face carefully but didn’t delve any further. “Tell you what. Maybe you’ll feel better tonight at the party.”

You wanted to groan loudly. Tony’s annual charity gala. You had looked forward to it before, the prospect of dressing up and maybe getting a dance with Bucky, but you weren’t quite in the party mood anymore. Still, you decided to maintain as positive of a mindset as you could, returning Bruce’s smile and promising yourself that you’d try and have a good time.

You left work with a slightly reinvigorated mindset as you headed back to your apartment to get changed. Maybe tonight could be a chance to relight that spark with Bucky again - if not that way, then you at least wanted some assurance that you were still friends.

You tried your best to uplift your mood whilst you got ready. You changed into a silky blue dress, one which complimented Bucky’s eyes, you realised. Perhaps this had been in your subconscious the day you’d picked it out. It was a long number, quite form fitting with a modest slit up the leg. You tried hard with your makeup and jewellery, the idea of impressing Bucky at the forefront of your mind as you tried to steady your racing heart every time he popped into your head.

Observing yourself in the mirror, you smoothed down the sides of your dress and tried to practice your smile. You managed to leave your apartment in a much better, optimistic state as you hailed a cab to take you to the gala venue.

It was being held in a new building commissioned by Tony next to Central Park, extravagant enough to rival the Met. You walked into the marble lobby, gaping at the high, vaulted ceilings and chandeliers hanging everywhere for just a moment, before you began searching the crowd for a familiar face.

You found yourself mingling with your other fellow lab techs who were buzzing with excitement to be invited to such an event, and you suppressed a frown as 30 minutes passed with no sign of Bucky.

Eventually, the crowd filtered into the main room filled with round tables where dinner would be served, and a huge glass bar which stretched along one side of the room. People were still socialising before food was to be served, and your eyes were roving non-stop, unable to focus on proper conversation with anyone.

Finally, just when your hope was dissipating, you saw him. He was standing in the middle of the crowded bar, clad in a black tux. This was the first time you had ever seen him in such an outfit, and it took your breath away. He held a flute of champagne in one hand, a complete vision and so different to how you usually saw him, typically fresh off the battlefield in his combat gear.

He was talking to Sam who had his back towards you. Bucky’s expression was unreadable but, as if sensing your burning eyes on him, he glanced towards you.

He did a double take, pausing mid-sentence to Sam, and you held your breath. He gave you a polite, if slightly terse, smile. He turned his attention away from you again, and your heart clenched.

It hurt more than you thought it would. It was just a tiny gesture, and he had acknowledged you, but why did it cause you pain?

No. Stop overthinking. You excused yourself from your colleagues and found yourself walking towards Bucky and Sam, reminding yourself that you were friends. You spoke to Bucky all the time - okay, maybe not in the last couple of weeks, but you had nothing to be afraid of. Just act normal.

“Hey guys,” you said lightly, watching as Bucky cleared his throat and gave you that same, tight smile.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sam beamed, giving you a one armed hug. “You look stunning.”

You smiled shyly, twisting your hands together as you looked at Bucky.

“Thanks. You both look very handsome.”

As if answering your prayers for alone time with Bucky, you heard Clint in the distance beckon for Sam to go over, and he excused himself, leaving you two stood in a slightly awkward silence.

Bucky raised his champagne and took a sip as you tried to get him to meet your eyes.

“How have you been?” you asked finally. “Haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

Bucky shrugged, finally looking at you. “Been okay. Busy.”

You felt frustration rising. Usually he would be telling you all about the things that had occurred in his day, his daily arguments with Sam, anything and everything in between. But now he spoke to you as if you were merely acquaintances.

“Listen. Did I do something wrong?” you said finally, surprising yourself by cutting to the chase. You just wanted Bucky back, and you let your desperation take over.

Bucky seemed taken aback at your forward approach, but he composed himself quickly.

“Nothing,” he said, his tone ever so slightly blunt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You felt like you were going to cry. You didn’t know how just a fortnight ago, you and Bucky had been locked in a passionate cinch in his bed, and now he was completely icing you out.

“Okay,” you said, deflating slightly. You knew that if he didn’t want to tell you, there was nothing you could do to squeeze it out of him.

“I’m gonna go take a seat,” he muttered, giving you one last look before he walked away.

You quickly hurried back to your colleagues, embarrassment searing your insides.

The evening passed painfully slowly. You found yourself sat quietly at your table after dinner service had ended and people were either having drinks, chatting out on the balconies or dancing in the middle of the ballroom.

You felt the gala could not get any worse. Until it did.

Natasha and Bucky were in the middle of the dance floor, swallowed up in the sea of couples and yet standing out due to their striking attractiveness. Natasha was dressed in a short, tight black dress, so simple and yet so gorgeous. Her red hair was straight and sleek, and she looked up at Bucky as they danced, his signature almost-cocky smile on his lips. A smile which he had not shown you since that day.

Natasha was effortlessly beautiful. She didn’t even have to try and she could get any man she wanted. Bucky included, obviously. You watched their movements closely as they danced, how they spoke to each other in low voices.

The emotions rising in your chest was like bile in your throat. It burned, it hurt, and it was able to illicit a terrible response in your brain.

You felt so ridiculous.

The dress you had on suddenly felt too tight, too uncomfortable around your stomach. You caught sight of your reflection in one of the large, ornate mirrors hanging off the walls and suddenly felt so ugly. You had tried so hard tonight, and for what? Bucky had barely given you ten seconds of his attention, and at the end of the day, no amount of effort could make you feel beautiful.

You didn’t know how you could’ve let yourself believe in something more. You had to make every effort to even just feel somewhat presentable, but women like Natasha didn’t have to. She was stunning and talented and intelligent, the obvious choice.

God knows why you had been questioning Bucky’s lack of attention. Maybe you had simply been misinterpreting your closeness all along.

You stood then, not wanting to cry in front of an audience. No one would notice you early departure anyway.

You left the ballroom, almost tripping in your stupid heels as you collected your things from the cloakroom.

Shrugging on your heavy coat as you marched through the empty lobby, you yelped in pain as you rolled your ankle clumsily, sending you crashing gracelessly onto the floor. You cursed, coat half-hanging off your body as you felt tears spring to your eyes.

It was the last straw. You were crying as you tried to stand, ankle throbbing, feeling mildly grateful that there was no one around to witness your childish episode. You thought you might have heard someone calling your name, but you ignored it, the roaring in your ears failing to stop.

Your tears didn’t cease, not even when you finally made it back home, ripping off the dress as soon as you could and crawling into the safety of your bed.

Bucky finally found you the next day in your lab on your lunch break. You were startled to see him appear in the doorway, your eyes tired and swollen from a night of crying. You hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“Bruce isn’t here,” was the first thing you said.

He looked almost annoyed as he walked in and said, “Wasn’t looking for him.”

“Oh. What do you want?” The words came out harsher than you intended. Bucky definitely looked annoyed now, a scowl fixed on his face.

He shook his head. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“Bucky!” Your voice came out loud and sharp as he turned back around. Frustration erupted. “You know what - you have no right to behave this way.”

“Excuse me?” He turned to look at you incredulously, forehead creasing.

“The way you’ve been treating me - the past few weeks since that night - you just ignore me now,” you were practically spluttering, all your feelings fighting to pour themselves out at once. “It’s horrible. I thought we were friends.”

“We were,” he said, looking almost torn.

“It’s not fair.” Your eyes were stinging and you were mortified, hurriedly lifting your hands to wipe them.

“Are you crying?” Bucky asked softly, looking nervous.

“Yes,” you snapped. “I thought we were close - I thought you liked me.” You were humiliated at your confession but ploughed on. “I thought that night meant something. But you -”

“Woah, hang on -”

“Don’t interrupt me!” you huffed.

Bucky took you in his arms, pulling you into his chest as you tried to pull back.

“Calm down,” he grunted, holding you still as you let out an exasperated noise. “Breathe.”

You knew he wouldn’t let up, so you let your anger reduce to a simmer as you focused on breathing steadily.

“Good girl.”

His presence was comforting despite your anger and frustration towards him. He always made you feel safe.

“I thought you liked me,” you repeated in a quiet voice. You were staring at his chest, refusing to look at him.

“I do,” he said, his voice tight.

“No, I thought you liked me as more than a friend.”

Bucky pulled back, lifting two figures under your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Can we rewind?” His request was soft. “Tell me. What did that night mean to you?”

“Are you really going to make me do this?”

His silence spoke volumes.

You tried not to let your frustration get the better of you. “I really like you, Bucky. I’m not a girl who enjoys sex with no strings attached. Especially not with you. I mean, I enjoyed the sex -” you blushed violently, “- but I - I want more.” Your words were rushed and you stared at the empty spot above his head, wanting to die from embarrassment.

“More?” he promoted.

“A relationship,” you clarified. “I know that’s not what you want. And that’s fine. But if we could at least just go back to how we were, where you actually spoke to me and spent time with me, I would really like that. Because I miss you.”

Bucky looked perplexed as he released you, mouth opening wordlessly. Finally, he uttered, “I don’t want that.”

Searing pain burst inside you, and your face crumpled.

“No, no, no,” he said hurriedly as your vision blurred. “I mean - I don’t want to be friends, because I want to be together. I want a relationship.”

“With me?” you asked, confusion marring your face.

“With you.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said instantaneously. “Are you joking? This isn’t funny.”

“Would I joke about something like that?”

“You said you were bored,” you blurted. “You asked me if I was ‘okay with this’.” As you spoke, you realised how groundless your assumptions actually might be, but you refused to believe the alternative - that Bucky genuinely wanted to be with you.

Bucky threw his hands up in the air, looking defensive. “You said it was ‘just sex’! I never at any point told you that this was just fun for me.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Bucky dragged a hand over his face, sighing. “Okay, I think we may have had a breakdown in communication.”

“But I don’t get it,” you insisted. “Why would you want to be with me? I saw you with Natasha last night.”

“Dancing,” he said indignantly. “Just dancing.”

“You didn’t dance with me,” you shot back. “I - I only went to that dumb thing because I wanted you to ask me to dance.”

Bucky looked pained, biting down on his lower lip with regret. “I didn’t know.”

“I wanted to look nice for you,” you confessed quietly.

“You did. You were gorgeous.”

You laughed humourlessly. Bucky frowned.

“I’m being serious.”

“Sure.” You genuinely didn’t believe him.

“Stop that and look at me,” he said sharply.

His eyes were filled with both annoyance and affection, making you falter. You didn’t say anything when he sighed and stroked your hair.

“I wanted to tell you how beautiful you were. But I just couldn’t bear to be near you. I thought you just wanted something casual. And I don’t think I can handle that.”

“I can’t handle that either,” you confessed. “I really want to be with you, Bucky.”

Bucky beamed then upon hearing your words, relief washing over his face.

“Really?”

How could he ever doubt that? You smiled and nodded, but your smile was fragile and faded at the thought of Bucky and Natasha dancing last night. Even if there was nothing untoward happening, you still felt that he should be with someone as equally impressive as Natasha.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “I want to be with you, but at the same time, I don’t know why you would want to be with me.”

Bucky frowned. “Is it that hard to understand?”

You didn’t say anything, so Bucky continued, “I thought you knew how I felt. I’ve been making it pretty damn obvious these past few months.”

“I thought you were just being nice,” you mumbled. “I did think, sometimes, maybe you had feelings for me, but then I decided it just didn’t make sense.”

“Tell me why,” Bucky said gently.

You took a deep breath, knowing you could be vulnerable around him. “I’ve never felt that I was good enough for you. I feel so average, so normal. And you - well, you’re you. So outstanding in every way.”

Bucky shook his head, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He smiled slightly when you blushed in response, skin flaming.

“Listen to me. Do you know how I view myself? I’m completely flawed, my morals are sometimes questionable, I’ve done terrible things -”

You were shaking your head vehemently in disagreement, and he smiled.

“See? You’re proving my point. We’re our own biggest critics. And maybe you don’t see how amazing you are, but I do. And I want you. I have pretty good taste, you know.” The way he looked at you made your self-doubt falter - he was observing you like you were so precious, the softness and tenderness in his face making your heart flutter.

You smiled then, Bucky taking a step closer, dipping his head to whisper against your lips.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life convincing you how brilliant you are, if that’s what it takes.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:

J, mafia AU, smut, ring

You know how I like it 😉😘

Mickala!!! 😍😭💖

Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!

Coup d'etat

Rated: E

Words: 999

Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con

“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”

Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.

“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?” 

Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“The bedroom, Eddie?”

“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”

*

A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin. 

“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”

Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes. 

“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”

Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.

“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”

The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles. 

“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”

The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.

“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.” 

Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes. 

“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.” 

Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.

“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.” 

Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing. 

“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?” 

“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-” 

Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence. 

“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-” 

“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”  

Eddie blinks. 

“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.” 

Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up. 

“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”

Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings. 

“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut. 

Eddie's smile slips. 

“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.” 

“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?” 

Eddie's mouth twists into a grin. 

“We both know that's how you like it, honey.” 

He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.

“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?” 

“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.” 

Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch. 

“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.” 

“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.” 

Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!” 

“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”

Part 2

More celebration ficlets

[unknownperson246]

Hey i was wondering if you could do one of Izzy Stradlin but in around late 1991-93 with the dreads, like this photo (I’ll send)

I was thinking he could go real hard n shi like yelling at you, growling, just losing his mind over the desire. Then after the fucking during dirty talk he notices he hurt you a bit since how rough he’s been, so he calms down, takes care of you and cleans you up + makes sure you go to next class safely etc

hiii I’m so very sorry it’s late. I hope you enjoy it 🩵🩵

Losing His Mind:

Words: 973

warnings: *smut* fluff* *p in v* *cussing* *age gap* *daddy kink* *degradation* *rough sex* *Izzy is a professor* *praise kink* *aftercare*

✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮⋆˙✮⋆˙ ☠︎︎ ★☠︎ ✮

It was the year 1993. You were in a classroom alone with your geography professor. You and Izzy were in an empty classroom. No other souls in sight besides the two of you. His tall naked skinny figure standing in front of you getting ready to demolish your views and feelings about sex with any other man besides him. His cock throbbing, feeling the urge to be inside of you already. You took a deep interest in him. Your obsession with him started when you first started college but you were too shy to say anything to him up until today when you wanted him so badly. You were very needy. While you were deep in your thoughts about how all of this started you felt a hand tugging harshly on your hair. He wanted you so bad. He was going insane over the desire of you. He pulled on your hair making you move towards him. He put his cock inside of you. He immediately pulled out once he realized you were doing it a different way. “Fuck Y/N,” He yelled at you in your face while his cock was moving around on your bare thigh.

“You're doing it wrong,” He said while you both were in the middle of intercourse.

“Well please teach me then Professor Izzy” You let out a moan as you smirk at him.

“Don’t fucking get smart with me dumbass.” He yells.

“You little fucking whore. Aren't you just a needy slut?” He says spitting on your face. He put himself back at your entrance and entered without one warning. He was growling at you like an animal and it scared you. You knew he was going to give the best he had with all of his energy. You loved seeing him this way. You wanted to see Izzy like this all the time but today you must have triggered something in him. It was something you did earlier that made him angry. He already had a suppressed feeling of lust toward you that you triggered. Izzy puts his hands on your hips. He pushes you a bit so you are leaned up on his table so you don’t fall over and hurt yourself. He 

“Izzy it hurts” You cry out trying to communicate that he is hurting you.

“You can take it!” He yells at you. 

“Fuck yeah, I can Daddy,” You say.

His thrusts keep getting even more and more rough when you call him daddy. 

“I love it when I can feel you squeeze around me,” He says, losing his mind over you.

“Iz,” You moan, holding onto his shoulders.

You look at him in his eyes.

“It drives me crazy when you look at me like that” He says each word breathlessly.

“Don’t stop, I'll go harder” You moan.

“I am about to come” You scream.

“Go On” Izzy grabs your neck while thrusting deep inside of you. He keeps on getting rougher with each thrust to the point where you almost bleed. 

Your head goes back while his hands are supporting your neck. Your legs shake but your hands don’t let go of his hips. You hold on for dear life trying not to fall back. Every part of your body wants to give up but you keep on going. Your stomach knots up even more and you release your come on his cock that was begging to be inside of you. He leaves kisses and bite marks on your neck.

“Izzy,” You say, catching your breath.

He feels himself having an orgasm as soon as you have yours. His head flew back against the chalkboard. A few rays of sun hit his eyes and you could see the true color of his beautiful eyes. They were hazel. His hair gleamed a true light brown in the sun. His dreads flew out of his face to the back once his head tilted. He was taking deep and heavy breaths as grunts escaped his mouth. You were mesmerized at the sight of him having his orgasm. You observed everything around you. It was amazing watching him have an orgasm. While he pulled out strings of come followed. The strings went down your thigh. He noticed that you were bleeding at the neck. “Shit, did I bite too hard?” He asked in a soft tone making sure you were okay.

“Yeah, it's nothing,” You say with your fingers tracing over the bloody marks.

He goes to his desk and grabs his first aid kit. He pulls out some alcohol and a cotton pad. He applies some cleansing alcohol to the cotton pad before warning you.

“This is going to sting,” He says.

You nod showing him that you approve. You grit your teeth once you feel the alcohol making contact with your small wound. 

“I’m sorry for all the stuff I said. I didn't mean it. It was me being mean only for role play” He says smiling at you.

“I know. I didn't take it personally” You say back. 

He puts clothes on after he helps you take care of yourself. He helps you fix your clothes once they are on. He helped with your tangled jewelry and your hair. He cleans you up with a wet napkin so you don’t look sweaty. He cleans off the come with the same wet napkin. 

“Did you get any of it on your clothes?” He asks you.

“No Izzy,” You say smiling. 

“Y/N please call me Professor Izzy when we aren't alone. I don't want anyone finding out that we see each other” He says smiling. 

“Sure. Professor Izzy” You say winking at him while you're at the door to leave.

He watches you walk to your next class making sure you safely get to your destination. 

[rainbowchaox]

Purgatory Pissa Masterpost Part 1:

Look guys Missa hasn’t streamed again since day 1 of the event! So I was thinking to make it easier for artists and fic writers to remember canon moments. And I am HAVING thoughts. And feeling the need to yet again be “normal” about my favorite cubitos.

Let’s be honest. Philza was so happy to see Missa was online it was adorable. In Philza POV he practically started the zooming into Missa from the top of the wall. HUSBAND SPOTTED! And the amount of joy between them seeing each other again! THEY MISSED EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!!

Then Missa! Finally got a little brave and practically demanded Philza to give him a HUG. And guys I squealed watching it live. And philza immediately GAVE his husband a hug. And then tubbo immediately was like “are you guys gonna kiss and shit?” And PHILZA broke. Like HMMM why you hesitating why the confusion. Like DO YOU WANNA KISS HIM YOU REPRESSED CROW-

Then we also have to talk about THAT scene. The scene where quite frankly Missa just stared at his husband pecs as Philza canonically flexed- causing Philza to quickly get shy. Missa is so down bad that even I was like “MISSA PLEASE!”. This is the same man in the same stream where he legit called a painting of Philza “papacito” which I learned is like the Spanish version of “daddy”. Which Missa was very judged by his own chat for. It was hilarious. Cubito Missa was a different breed of simping and yearning this stream. I wish I made all of this up, but nope IT HAPPENED CANONICALLY. AND THEY EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL?!?

But what everyone should focus on the most is when cucurocho said quesadilla island was a paradise. Mr Simpfonia himself immediately agreed because and I quote “Philza is here”. THIS IS BIG! Because EVEN Missa knows the island is horrible. Chayanne is gone for Void Sakes. BUT ITS PARADISE TO MISSA BECAUSE HE LOVES PHILZA- I’m so normal about this dudes. Because even spiderbit can’t say the island is paradise because they met each other on the island, but Missa casually says it like it didn’t rewrite pissa warriors brain chemistry. Something something Philza is comfort and safety to Missa. He loves Philza so much. Truly a bleeding heart with loyalty so strong it’s titanium.

And can we all talk about how Philza when they were separated waved goodbye to Missa when Missa back was turned? Philza doesn’t show affection through words. But by actions. Something something he is already missing Missa. The tsundere crow. JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE HIM-

Also Missa before all of this showing off his aquarium apartment. And casually says “The point is so Philza doesn’t notice so we can stay close to him” BITCH ITS PHILZA AND MISSA FOR A REASON! Did you forget the double bed?!?!!!? Pissa love each other so much it’s slowly becoming a obsession. Not to mention mISSA in general hauntings Philza thoughts (dude checked the map to see Missa when he died-) we get it Philza you love him and are sad you got spilt up. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU NEVER GET TO SEE YOU HUSBAND AND MISS HIM-

Another great moment is when Missa heard his own team mates saw Philza and immediately was possessive and protective DESPITE THEM ACTUALLY BEING ON ENEMY SIDES was like “No don’t hurt my man”. Missa wants his husband to be safe. And nice to know his possessive streak is healthy as ever. Philza is HIS man. I swear Missa we get it- YOU LOVE HIM. THEY MAKE ME CRAZY. And guys it was a experience watching Missa POV. Because he was ignoring all the death and chaos in the chat BUT the moment when Missa saw Philza die his whole face changed expressions. Philza was the only death he reacted too I ain’t lying.

Now for the best part of the stream, Missa causally entered the VC of red team. And I quote “I’m not part of your team but I wanna tell you I love you guys”. PHILZA IMMEDIATELY SAID I LOVE YOU BACK. Of course everyone else was suspicious of Missa being so nice and called him a manipulator while Philza immediately was like “No he wouldn’t do that”. PHILZA TRUSTS MISSA SO MUCH-

LIKE WE UNDERSTAND! You guys are always on each other minds. We were fed so much! And I can’t wait to see what other cute pissa moments we get in the future- I hope you enjoyed my rambling essay. I feel like there should be a masterpost of pissa moments in case anyone needed a refresher! Will make Part 2 once we get more cute pissa moments!

[outlandish-dreamer]

caregiver! Peter Parker 🕷️❤️

-for @babyboyblues-world <3

such an easygoing and chill guy! Thats not to say he doesn’t match your energy, but he doesn’t really mind doing whatever, he’s always there for you regardless. He just wants you to be happy

HUGE sci-if person, so anytime you pick a movie or a book, he tries and fails to hide his excitement

LOVES stargazing and pointing out all the cool space facts he can find. Maybe he’ll even quiz you on the constellations or whether or not Pluto’s a dwarf planet

Speaking of books, he gets INTO it though. He takes playing very seriously; doing all the voices and getting into character

Uses his powers to his advantage, taking you all over the city. It’s pretty scary, but he’s got you! He won’t let anything happen to you

“Look Buggy! See, I told you it wasn’t so bad! You were so brave, nice job kid!

Sometimes that doesn’t work out in his favor, he may have fallen off the wall or ceiling a few times. Wait who said that?

Loves sharing his interests and collections with you. Surprisingly enough, you’re one of the few people he trusts around his stuff. He knows you won’t make fun of him for it

He tries not to let his Spider-Man life bleed too much into his personal life, but he’ll always tell you about it if you’re interested! He just won’t talk about it at random

When he does however, he’s still really shy about it, but you don’t mind. He’s still your hero, even when he doesn’t feel like one

Speaking of which, he brings you back whatever stuff he finds when he’s gone. Sometimes it’s a stuffie, other times it’s a lego set, hey, once he even got you a wind-up spider. Although, that last one, he realized probably wasn’t the best idea

Shows off all his favorite spots and picks the perfect places to look up at the sky. He’s content to just sit there and hold you while the world seems to stop. When it’s all peaceful and quiet, with one of his best friends. His little bug

[bagerfluff]

Bloody Promises

Set in season two - Scott McCall x Male Reader

Prompt - "you're bleeding"

Y/n L/n was the local ‘bad boy’ of Beacon Hills High School. He wore ripped jeans, white shirts and tank tops, black leather jackets, and black sneakers. He got into fights like it was his job. He didn’t do the best in school. He rarely showed up to class. And almost everyone was scared of him. Except for his boyfriend. Scott McCall. When everyone heard they were dating they were shocked. The bad boy Y/n dating the nice shy Scott. Even Stiles was shocked when he heard it. He thought Y/n would treat Scott like trash and so did everyone else. But they were wrong. Y/n treated Scott like a prince. Anything Scott wished came true if Y/n heard it. 

What people also found out is that you don’t mess with Scott. Someone had bullied Scott and Y/n saw them do it. They were beat up in less than a few minutes. Y/n was very protective of Scott. You could get beat up if you looked at him wrong. But Scott didn’t like it when Y/n beat people up. Scott was one of the only people that could Y/n what to do and not get beat to a pulp. But that didn’t mean that Y/n didn’t beat people up, he just did it less and when Scott wasn’t around. Like right now. Y/n was walking down the hall to his next class when he overheard Jackson talking shit about Scott.

Y/n was pissed as he heard this so he did what he normally did when he was pissed. He punched something. And that something was Jackson’s face. Y/n managed to hit Jackson to the floor. And beat him to a pulp. After Y/n was satisfied with how much he beat up Jackson Y/n got up and walked away. The crowd that had formed to watch the fight moved out of the way to let Y/n though not wanting to make the boy mad. After the fight the day went normally. Scott had even asked if he could stay at Y/n’s house after school Y/n said yes and told Scott to meet him at his car.

So now Y/n was leaning against his car door on his driver side. Rubbing the blood of his knuckles of his hands with a tissue. Y/n didn’t notice Scott walking up. Y/n didn’t notice him standing in front of him till Scott said “You’re bleeding!” Y/n looked up at Scott, not shocked at his loud voice or by the fact he came out of nowhere. “It’s not my blood” Y/n said matter of factly, going back to cleaning his hand. Scott sighed as he thought. He asked Y/n to stop fighting but he never listened. It was making Scott mad. And sad.

Did Y/n not listen to Scott when he asked him to do other things. Did Y/n not like him? Scott loved Y/n so it made him sad thinking that the man he loved didn’t love him. Stiles did tell Scott the problem with dating the schools ‘bad boy’. Scott sighed as he whispered “do you love me?” Y/n heads snapped up as he heard it. Y/n loved Scott, he was the only thing in this life that he loved. So why didn’t Scott know that. “Yes” Y/n said, throwing the tissue into a nearby trash can. “Then why don’t you listen to me!” Scott yelled “I ask you to not beat people up but you do!” 

Y/n was shocked. “I only beat people up because they talk shit about you” Y/n responded. Scott sighed “I don’t need you to protect me” Scott said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the ground. Y/n sighed and looked at his hands. Scott was a werewolf. Y/n wasn’t the most romantic person. So he found it hard to show how much he loved Scott. He thought by protecting him from bullies would show that. Guess he was wrong. Y/n looked back up at Scott to see that he was about to cry. Y/n walked forward and pulled Scott into his arms.

“I’m sorry” Y/n said. “I’ll try” Y/n said into Scott’s hair. Scott knew what he was talking about. Scott wrapped his arms around Y/n’s body as Y/n did the same to Scott. “Promise me” Scott whispered as he looked up at Y/n. “I promise” Y/n said, and sealed it with a kiss to Scott’s forehead. “I’m still mad at you” Scott said and Y/n laughed a bit. “That’s fine” Y/n said as he kissed Scott. Scott and Y/n didn’t know if Y/n could keep his promise. But Y/n would try. He would do anything for Scott. 

Anything. 

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

This prompt for Melissa x Reader, Reader is defo corny. And a fellow teacher at Abbott.

"Oh my god, you are so corny." "But you find it attractive, so that's a win."

Thank you for requesting this one - I had fun writing it. Sorry it's a little on the short side, but when I saw the prompt, this was what came out. Hope you like it!

*

Joe had never showered Melissa with love, that much had become apparent in all you’d heard of the man.  Even his physical acts seemed to be for his own satisfaction and not to worship the red headed temptress.  You thought he was an absolute ass of a man, and that was putting it politely.

In being lucky enough to be in a relationship with Melissa, you had no intention of making the same mistake.  You didn’t ram the fact you adored her down everyone’s throats like Jacob was often guilty of, but you made sure she knew.  You’d leave little gifts, little notes, tiny hearts drawn on her whiteboard.  You’d throw out corny picky up lines that would have her rolling her eyes, but blushing all the same. 

“Oh my God, you are so corny!” she says even as she laughs at your latest line. 

“Yeah, but you find it attractive, so that’s a win for me,” you grin.  “You love it really,” you tease.

There’s a pause and something in her expression changes.  “I love you,” she says softly, smiling shyly.

It’s the first time she’s said the words out loud to you.  She’s shown you in a hundred different ways and in many love languages, but this is the first you’re hearing the words come out of her mouth.  You didn’t exactly expect it to happen in the breakroom at lunch on a random Tuesday, but the warmth blooms in your chest all the same.  Not to leave her hanging, you reply without hesitation.  “I love you too.”

You’ve known for months but hadn’t wanted to spook her by saying it too soon.  A flush spreads across her cheeks and bleeds down to her chest as her eyes go glassy with unshed tears.  Not wanting to embarrass her or draw too much attention, you stand, pressing a kiss to her head as you move to heat up your lunches.  Prepared by Melissa, of course.

Standing by the microwave, you turn as Barb places a gentle touch to your arm, offering a warm smile clearly approving of the interaction she has just had the privilege of witnessing.  She too, had a rather low opinion of Joe and was rather defensive when you and Melissa started dating, not wanting to see her friend hurt again.  You had worked hard to convince her you had no intention of ever hurting the red head.  That you realised just how lucky you were in being given a chance with her, and would do everything you could to take care of her show her just how much she meant to you. 

Hearing the beeping of the microwave, you collect your shared lunch and head back to take up your seat next to Melissa, who still sports an adorable blush on her cheeks and a shy smile on her face. 

The room starts to fill up with the other members of your little dysfunctional Abbott family, most of whom flash you a smile but from experience, largely ignore Melissa, who by now has her head down, engrossed in something on her phone.  You don’t mind, instead reaching for your fork and digging into the contents of the Tupperware box in front of you.  You would be lying if you said the food wasn’t a huge perk of dating the red head.  That said, you’ve love her all the same even if she couldn’t even boil an egg. 

You glance down as a familiar touch settles on your arm, gentle fingers tracing over your own before Melissa begins to draw patterns on your bare forearm with a single finger.  Her gaze remains on her phone, but it seems she still has something to say as you realise what is being spelt out on your arm.  I LOVE YOU.

“Who’s corny now?” you ask with a smirk, earning an adorable scrunching of her nose in reply.

[erzherzog-von-edelstein]

Something short for day 1 of @spaus-week for the Cuddling prompt and the "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway." prompt.

Content Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Religion, very mild hinting at violence

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

Austria’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of water splashing. He had fallen asleep waiting for his husband to join him in bed and as he looked around, he realized that the book he had been reading was still sitting open on the bed sheets.

He ran his hand over his face before picking up the book, closing it, and placing it gently aside.

He heard another quiet splash and turned his attention toward the noise. The only light in the room came from a candle that Spain had lit next to the wash basin.

As Austria squinted in his direction, he realized that Spain was scrubbing his hands. Austria said, rubbing his eyes, “Antonio, what are you doing?”

Spain paused, his hands still in the water. He answered, “It’s not important. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Austria didn’t believe him. It was odd behavior at this hour of night, and Austria’s first thought was that he was cleaning a wound. He threw off the blankets and sat up. Spain pulled his hands out of the water and started to shake the moisture off of them. He then grabbed a linen towel and started to dry his hands.

Austria got out of bed and stepped closer, saying gently, “Do you need help?”

As he stepped closer, he saw that Spain was running the corner of the towel methodically under his fingernails. Spain shook his head emphatically, “No, I just…” He trailed off and Austria wondered what was going through his mind. Spain swallowed hard and said, “There’s blood and I need to get it off.”

Austria tutted and stepped forward to take his hands in his own, “Let me see.”

Spain let him take the hands and examine them, which Austria took as a good sign. There was no injury and, as far as he could tell, no blood. He said, confused, “They’re clean, love.”

In the flickering candlelight, he saw Spain chew his inner lip like he was agonizing. There was some heady emotion in his voice as he said, “They are far from clean.”

His right hand convulsed as if he wanted to pick at his own fingernails some more. He seemed to want to claw away something that was not there.

Austria felt like he understood, “You have never told me about it. Al-Andalus or what happened in the Americas.”

The low light cast shadows on even the smallest line on Spain’s face. The lines of worry were appearing between his eyebrows. Spain spoke, his every word colored with emphatic conviction, “I know that God understands. I know that I did what He asked of me. I know He understands.”

Austria supplied the next word, “But?”

Spain was going to make his lip bleed if he kept biting it like that. He answered, “But I don’t know that you will. My prince, my good fortune. And I will not make you sleep in the same bed as a man with such unclean hands.”

Austria brought Spain’s hands to his lips and kissed them tenderly. He met Spain’s eyes as he said, “My affections are not so fickle, I promise. Come to bed. Tell me every terrible thing you’ve ever done and let me love you anyway.”

Spain nodded and followed his instructions, letting Austria lead him to the bed. Once Austria had put his head comfortably on Spain’s shoulder, he said again, “Unburden your soul to me, and I promise that I will not shy away from you.”

Spain ran a hand through Austria’s hair and sighed deeply, “I fear you will not sleep tonight once I tell you what I’ve seen, what I’ve done.” Austria replied, closing his eyes and listening to Spain's heartbeat, “I do not care.”

[hazbinhoteloc-ninlil]

(a message for the mod :D)

sorry if i'm bothering you with this ask, mod. it's fine if you don't answer this. i know that my words can't worth much to anyone on the other side of this screen, but my gosh i'll try to spread the positivity and my appreciation for all RP blogs, so i'll send this in, mod. there could be a better way of doing this, which i have learned is through the art of tagging (yes i'm slowly learning my way through Tumblr because i, myself, am still a huge Tumblr newbie, lol), and i'm too nervous and shy to do something like that haha, so here's a personalized positivity ask in your ask box :D.

first, i love seeing your OC. their design is such a cool one, both of the designs. they are just so cool. i'd wish i could have interacted more but i get crazy anxious with things that i'm not quite familiar with, but i wish to interact more in the future :D.

the lore that you have made with the other RPers is that even a word? i don't know and i hope that i'm not pulling that word from out of nowhere, lol. is literally so cool to see. but that last one before they ascended just tug at my heart strings T^T.

i do hope that those anons/people would stop sending everyone hate because frankly those people have no clue what they're talking about >:(. you all are frankly so cool and lovely people, so >:(. again, sorry i'm bothering you with this rather man, i didn't expect it to be this long ask.

and that i hope that you have a wonderful day/night/whenever you manage to read this ask. don't feel the need to respond if you don't want to, just wanted to send this positivity ask in :D.

you might be able to tell who this is, but in case you don't, i wouldn't want to expose myself, so i hope you understand this being on an account with literally nothing but a tracker of who i've been to already (yes, i made an account just to do this but without any identifiable information on this account :P).

luv you and all that you do for this community :D.

you do what you do best so keep on doing it, mod :3.

-spreading positivity anon :D (the anon account that only interacts with mods unless the characters are in need to raising their spirit :3, even if this is an account.)

(yes i see the contradictory notion of me having this sign off, lol, but i'll also probably be around the other RP blogs and try to spread some positivity with the same sign-off as an attempt to fight off the unnecessary hate that seems to be thrown around :D. and i will become a virus which spreads positivity if i need to >:3)

Ooc: // Hello sweetheart, thank you so much for your kind and thoughtful words.

This is what I meant when I said I am so proud of what this community has become, I’m so honored to be able to be apart of something that seeks to lift up and make others smile, while also gathering to support one another through hate.

Those Hateful anons haven’t come near me, and for that I am grateful, it makes me sad that they went after some of my friends however and I’m glad they seem to have stopped. Hopefully they will reflect on their actions and realize flaw in their own behavior.

I don’t expect apologies from them though it’d be nice if they do read this. “It Starts With Sorry” after all. 😉

I love story telling, writing and drawing. The fact I was able to Share Ninlil with you all and you all have been receptive and fell in love with her has made my heart full. I’m sorry I scared people with her almost death in the Last RP. I was not yet aware of the negativity being spread, otherwise I would’ve put a disclaimer stating her soon ascension. I have no plans to leave this platform anytime soon.

I love you all, and I hope you have a wonderful week, have plenty of food to fill your stomachs, may the weather be fair, and may you be surrounded and protected by joy and peace.

My heart bleeds and goes out to those who are unable to be in peace right now, and I hope they find peace soon.

[lovemesomechenford]

Chenford + I'm scared I'll ruin us

“Babe?”

Tim and Lucy were sitting on the couch in their living room, just finished watching The Notebook. Lucy shifts from her position under Tim’s arms to look at her boyfriend in the eyes.

“I ruined my marriage with Isabel. She said I put too much pressure on her to be perfect. I don’t want to do that to you. To us. I don’t want to lose you like I did her.” Tim confesses, drawing her back into his hold.

“Oh, Tim.” Lucy could see the vulnerability slowly bleeding out of him. Her heart was heavy with love for this beautiful man. The emotional growth he’s gone through since they first met is astronomical. The trust he has in her to listen and not judge, to still love him despite all that he unloads. The want to share his deepest and darkest fears and trauma. “You won’t.”

“But you don’t know that, Lucy. What if—”

“I do. I do know, Tim. You won’t ruin us. I know this to be true just like I know that the sky is blue, the sun always rises, and that Kojo definitely loves Tamara more than us.”

She interrupts him mid-sentence. On a normal day, Lucy would let Tim get all of his feelings out about things that bothered him, but this was too important to let him tailspin. She knows that moving in together this soon into their relationship would be an adjustment. It feels natural and right and neither could wait any longer, but it also brought up the past. After all, this house was the one Tim and Isabel purchased and lived in together as husband and wife. It was also the house where Isabel left him in the middle of the night for drugs. It holds beautiful and painful memories. Lucy understood.

“Only because she spoils him with table scraps.” He huffs in exasperation, rolling his eyes to add theatrics. Lucy giggles at his grumbling.

“I’m serious though.” Tim looks down at her expectingly, silently waiting for her to continue. Wanting to stay close yet properly hold his gaze, Lucy adjusts her body to straddle Tim.

“The reason I’m so confident that you won’t ruin us is the fact that we’re having this conversation in the first place.” Tim makes a puzzled face but Lucy continues, “You’ve changed, Tim. You’re not who you were when you and Isabel were together. The Tim I first met would have built skyscrapers around himself the moment he had these thoughts. He never would’ve shared or even acknowledged them. I don’t know what it was like when Isabel was around, and I don’t have to. The Tim that loves me and that I love is open and receptive and thoughtful. All I feel is love and comfort, not pressure. Look, you and I both know we are not perfect individuals and that is okay. Our relationship is not going to be perfect either. There will be highs and lows, and that’s okay too. We fight for each other. We talk things out when something is on our minds. We vocalize our needs with each other and we don’t shy away from them. That’s what is going to make us work, babe. That’s why I’m not scared you’re going to ruin us, or that I will.”

“Okay Lu.” Her unwavering declaration pacifies the thundering waves storming in his head, tempering down to a tranquil sail. Meanwhile, Tim’s heart beats a little stronger and wilder for her. Tim whispers a “thank you” onto Lucy’s lips, wrapping himself in the warmth of her love.  

“I love you, Tim Bradford. You’re a good man.”  

“I love you, Lucy Chen.”

[sing-faithful-sing]

"The Heroes"

What makes a hero?

Where is the chart

that maps out a person

and unearths their heart?

Some heroes are friendly

and noble and good

they know what to say

and they do what they should

Their admirers are many

Their critics are few

And when there is a problem

they know what to do

They save every day

With their courage and might

And leave people feeling

more hopeful, and light

Their hearts beat so loud

That everyone knows

Yes, this is a hero

This is how the story goes

But what of the heroes

who don’t shine as bright?

What makes up the heroes

who don’t seem quite right?

Some heroes are fragile,

they’re feeble, and weak

Some heroes are shy

and don’t know how to speak

Some heroes are cocky,

and proud as can be

Some heroes are wild,

untamed and carefree

Some heroes are angry,

they’re harsh and they’re mean

Some heroes have hands

that are so far from clean

Some heroes are damaged

and tired, and sore

And some heroes don’t want

to fight anymore

What makes these heroes?

When really, it seems

like these, and the others

are different extremes?

Their hearts are still good,

so then why do they hide?

Why do these heroes

get wrapped up inside?

Well, some of them don’t

have the power to choose

the fights they would like

or the weapons they use

Some of them can’t fight

the power of fate

Some of them got there

a little too late

Some didn’t stop

to consider the cost

Some gave too much

and have already lost

Most of them can’t find

a place to belong

Most barely have

enough strength to go on

So maybe their one-liners

aren’t always too slick

But if you hurt their loved ones,

they'll come for you quick

The weak appear strong

and the shy become loud

The wild become fierce,

the fragile stand unbowed

The harsh become soft

and the guilty atone

No one said mistakes

must be set in stone

They’ll take any punishment,

suffer and bleed

They all rise up fighting

when there is a need

For these are the heroes

who do what they can

whether human, or otherwise,

child, or man.

They go on long journeys

though they don’t know the way

And fail in their quests

at the end of the day

They fall to false justice,

yet kindle the spark

They follow the narrow road

into the dark

They fight for their families

whatever they do

They fight for their people, their friends

And for you

For you who can’t do

what you think that you should

For you who would fight back

if only you could

For you who have bodies

that are broken and lame

For you who have minds

that are lost and in pain

For you who they see, and say

“Look at that freak!”

For you who they don’t think

Is worthy to speak

For those who can’t do things

the way the world says

These heroes stand tall

and they throw back their heads

Saying “See what I’ve made here

the good I have done,

the tyrants I’ve fought

and the battles I’ve won”

“Despite what I’ve lost

and despite what I lack,

my actions still matter

and I’ve never turned back”

“Regardless of weakness or

sin or of shame

My efforts still counted,

my value’s the same”

“As all of the heroes

the world loves to praise

who fight the good fight

in their typical ways”

“Our paths look so diff’rent

from those the world lauds.

They’re harsh, and they’re long

and have so many odds”

“But if I can walk down it

And come out having won

Then I’m sure you can too

Before your story’s done”

So those are the heroes

That don’t look the same

as those who win praises,

win fortune, and fame

They’ve beat all the odds

And come out with a song

Their hearts saw so much

And emerged twice as strong

They’re some of the ones

and I’m sure you’ll agree

That you see the most in you

I see them in me

I see them before us

on that dark, narrow trail

Guiding us, helping us

tell our own tale

For the ones who are different

Those who aren’t quite right

These heroes go before us

And bathe us in their light

The world sees those lights shine

And finally, it knows

WE are those heroes

That’s how our story goes

DO NOT REPOST

[georgi-girl]

Babble: Track Eighteen

(AN; this chapter focuses on characters from "The Bad Guys" so if you're not familiar with the comic or the movie, you can skip it)

@@@@

'Cause you're a natural,

A beating heart of stone,

you gotta be so cold,

to make it in this world.

Yeah, you're a natural,

Living your life cutthroat,

You gotta be so cold,

YEAH, YOU'RE A NATURAL

@@@@@

At a bar long before all this, Wolf and Snake had their first disagreement.

“You don’t want to date me. You want someone who’s into breeding and social stuff. Not an old reptile like me with a face like mine.”

“I can find breeding when the right mammal comes along. As for your face, I just love it.”

Mister Snake chuckled. “Alright, why not? Not like we have a lot of options.”

@@@@

Miguel was lying on the floor, bleeding from his neck wound. Species stared at him in a daze, not registering what just happened. He hadn’t actually….

“MIGUEL!!!” Riley came rushing to her primos’ side. “WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT…” then she looked up and saw Species had blood on his mouth. Her whole face widened in a familiar expression of terror. “You…”

Species didn’t stick around. He ran off the second she addressed him. Shape-shifting into a fox, he sped through the clinic and out the nearest window. In the twilight light, he dodged the Bergens who were waking up, and fled into the woods.

@@@@

While Jack fought Pitch, everyone gathered around the injured Miguel. Zodiac used their gloves to stop the bleeding.

Bridget, hanging back, shy as ever, spoke in a small voice. “Can Tone heal him like she healed my finger?”

Tone flinched. She sort of remembered doing that before she came out of her fugue state. But she didn’t remember how.

“How did I heal you before?” she asked Bridget.

Bridget blushed. “It was really intimate actually. You uh, sucked on my finger and got your spittle all over it.”

“So I should suck on his neck?”

“Don’t do that!” Riley said.

“Well I be gotta do something…” Tone thought about it, then pulled out the lyre. “Maybe this will help.” She strummed it with her middle finger. A stream of colors flowed out of it towards Miguel. The stream wrapped around him like a bandage. Zodiac removed their gloves and saw the wound rapidly healing, until it was barely a scar.

They sighed in relief. “That’s one problem solved.” They said. They looked over at the distant battle. Pitch, in shadow form, was retreating, and Jack was chasing after him. They were probably taking the fight somewhere more private. How considerate.

@@@@

When Miguel woke up the next day, the first thing he asked about was Species. Riley told him how Species ran off, among other revelations she’d learned. (Showing memories was such a neat way to share information) Miguel, once he could stand up, wanted to go look for him.

“What happened was my fault. I scared him when he was in a bad headspace, and he reacted.”

“Want me to go with you?” Riley offered. “I like Species too.”

“No, you stay here with Tone and Bridget,” they were still asleep. “They’ll need you if something bad happens.”

Zodiac didn’t approve. “You're going to track down the guy who attacked you and apologize to him for making him attack you? You know how that sounds right?"

Miguel looked at them. “Judge all you want, but Brainwashed your girlfriend, Faked being a psychic, Started a cult behind your friend’s back, Wanted in multiple dimensions, Convicted grifter!” With that, he stormed off.

Surprisingly, Zodiac was impressed by that outburst. “When Miguel tells it like it is, he tells it like it is. Respect.”

@@@@

Miguel tried to get Species to go back to the Clinic with him.

“You shouldn’t want to be around us.”

“What are you going to do, steal my wallet? Here, I’m giving it to you. Delima solved, can we go back now?”

He held his wallet out to the sad man. Species wiped his eyes and said “You don’t get it. You love Russel, but you don’t love us! We have his body and memories but we are not him! We’re awful horrible no-good monsters!”

“You just think that because people in your world_”

“We’re right about us! We never cared about morals or ethics because all we cared about was each other. All we needed was each other. Now we are each other, and it should feel awesome and empowering, but it isn’t. It’s really lonely and confusing and scary.”

“Then let me help you! You know what’s going on here? You had a chance to literally become someone else and you took it. And now you’re riddled with guilt over it. Riley would call that Impostor Syndrome.”

Species started to turn away. Miguel wouldn’t leave without him. Finally, Species sighed and said,

“There’s something else you should know. About the night we escaped….”

@@@@

“What dreadful creatures you are, to steal a man’s own body.”

“We didn’t steal it! And who are you to talk? What the hell are you?”

“I’m someone you can’t scare away with your looks.”

“Tell me, what does your family think of all this? Are they proud of you? Or are they as reviled as everyone else that you choose to be such a stereotype?”

He ran outside into the night. Shadows chased after him.

“Don’t pretend this isn’t what you’ve always wanted. You’re finally someone who can fit in and you still want to lash out. You’re all rotten to the core.”

He pinned him down.

“It’s all relative you know. Good and bad. After all something that feels this good, can’t be wrong.”

That was when he met Jack.

@@@@

[jdgo51]

Holy Places of Hurt

Today's inspiration comes from:

She Speaks Fire

By Mariela Rosario

"Ideally, the church should be the one place where we can live authentically, without fear, as a community, but that’s not some people’s experience.

Just as Jesus experienced before His crucifixion, the deepest bruises and bloodiest beatings often come at the hands of church people, not sinners. Let me stop before anyone gets it twisted. I can tell you that I fundamentally, wholeheartedly, and unapologetically love God’s house. Not one part of me is a church hater or a church skeptic. I believe in, trust, and need the holiness and sanctity the church represents as the bride of Christ, and I’m here for it all day, every day — not just on Sundays.

But I’d be lying if I told you the church hasn’t sometimes looked more like the enemy of Christ than the bride of Christ. And my purpose in talking openly about a typically swept-under-the-rug conversation is not to bash or hurt the church but to follow the model of the garden.

Then God said to the man, ‘I commanded you not to eat from that tree. But you listened to your wife and ate from it. So I will curse the ground because of you. You will have to work hard all your life for the food the ground produces’. — Genesis 3:17 ERV

When Adam and Eve sinned, God didn’t curse them; He cursed the ground. After He exposed their sin, He told Adam that because of his sin, he would have to work harder, against thorns and thistles. When sin comes into our communities of worship today, God doesn’t curse us; He exposes our sins and tells us we’re going to have to get to work too, and we, too, will have “thorny” issues to face. God didn’t shy away from exposing the sin in the first community, and I’m here for a real, honest conversation about sin in our communities as well.

Power, position, and authority can make people do crazy things, say crazy things, and act in crazy ways and end up victimizing people worse than the world can outside the church walls. People expect blows of manipulation, abuse, and neglect from the world, but they don’t expect them in the name of their God. It changes something in the minds and hearts of believers when they experience their deepest pain in the house of God. It’s not just church hurt they must deal with; it’s a spiritual violation of the sacred relationship between the Father and His kids.

Faith is the very fabric of the church, and when people are broken and bleeding at the hands of people they’d expected to trust, asking them to trust again in a faith community can be nearly impossible.

A few years after starting She Speaks Fire, I shared coffee with a woman who was so deeply traumatized by church hurt that she vowed never to be part of a church community again. Let’s call her Ingrid. As she shared her shame story, she repeated a saying I had heard before but didn’t fully understand until that moment: church hurt is the worst hurt.

I listened quietly as she shared how she had been a leader at a church for almost fifteen years before she found out a shameful truth about her pastor. The so-called shepherd she was following showed himself to be a wolf. For over ten years he had been having an affair with a young woman in their church. It resulted in pregnancy. As Ingrid’s story unraveled in front of me, she wrestled with the incredulous detail that other people knew and suspected over the course of the past decade, but they were too afraid to speak. To some, her pastor was a benevolent and compassionate leader, and to others he was a tyrannical monster. To Ingrid, he was the former, and seeing him as a wolf brought an onslaught of anger, confusion, disappointment, and sadness. In the moment of his exposure, she looked around and wondered if others were real or just more wolves in disguise. If it was possible for the shepherd of the house to abuse those entrusted to his care, she wondered who could really be trusted in that place.

When spiritual abuse like this man’s is exposed in a church, everyone is exposed. This wasn’t just a man to Ingrid; he was her trusted and beloved pastor, mentor, and father figure. When he fell publicly, she, along with thousands of others, felt the rocking and shaking of the house. He was removed from all levels of leadership, and while Ingrid agreed with the removal, she was unprepared for the shame, panic, rage, and frailty that came as a result. One Sunday she was taking notes from his preaching from the pulpit, and the next he and his pregnant victim were gone from sight and all conversations. Hers was a story of abandonment and betrayal all wrapped up in one messy chapter in her church’s history.

God wants His sons and daughters to come back to His Son to experience a one-on-one encounter with a real Savior who could silence their shame once and for all.

At the end of her story, she told me she couldn’t go back to church because she didn’t believe it was even possible to survive as a church community after such a loss and betrayal. The sin wasn’t hers, but she felt the shame of association as a member of his church.

Did she weep for a man she had put her faith in? Yes.

Did she despise him for the choices he had made that painfully brought shame to everyone connected to him? Yes.

Did she want him back and at the same time want him to stay away? Yes.

Did she hurt and turn against fellow congregants because his decisions had forced them all to make decisions on what would happen next to their community? Yes.

Did she have to hold the pieces of her own heart while healing the hearts of those around her? Yes.

Did she believe the end of his story as her pastor translated to the end of her in that community?

Yes.

Was she wrong? Yes.

I gave her a tissue and wiped my own tears away. Then I reminded her that God removes people and things in a church community because it’s what’s best for the church as a whole, not the church as individuals. His vantage point from Heaven gives God a wider perspective to help communities make the difficult decisions to expose church hurts before those hurts become church culture.

There was peace for Ingrid instead of shame when she accepted that her pastor had to be removed because the culture he had begun to value was not that of the Kingdom. Yes, she hurt in the process, but I encouraged her to go back to God’s house so that a grace to heal, a grace to be truly seen, and a grace to be truly loved by God could be birthed from their communal pain.

If you’ve been part of a church community like Ingrid’s that has known the bloodshed and pain of spiritual manipulation, abuse, or neglect, I need you to know it may have changed you, but it didn’t change God. It didn’t change the fact that His house is still the body of Christ where people come to experience a one-on-one encounter with the real God of redemption and grace.

I can tell you this with full confidence and authority because sin and shame in the garden may have changed Adam and Eve, but it didn’t change God.

The first sin didn’t change the fact that God still, millennia later, wants His sons and daughters to come back to His Son to experience a one-on-one encounter with a real Savior who could silence their shame once and for all.

Just because you or I had an encounter with one of His sheep who went astray doesn’t mean God went astray too. He didn’t fail you and He didn’t forsake you. Your purpose didn’t change because your community got shaken or torn down. You’re going to heal and you’re going to move forward. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but you will heal.

Your community needs you to heal because they need you. We need you. We don’t need you because of what you do or what titles you carry; we need you because our communities can exist in health only when we choose to fight for interdependence instead of conforming to isolation. That is, when we see the value in ourselves, the value in one another, and the value in who we are together.

Close your eyes and see yourself being seen and known within an authentic community.

See your community strong and healthy.

Envision being part of a community that reflects genuine interdependence instead of isolation.

Imagine a community of people who know that nakedness of soul and spirit is a gift, not a punishment or a curse. Let yourself have faith again in a community that is healed and actively working to heal from past hurts and traumas. Now, open your eyes, wipe your tears, and go build it.

Garden Prayer

Father, You know the pain and longing of my heart for genuine godly community. You walk with me when I have no community, broken community, and whole community. You have seen the parts of me that hide, run, fight, and question in skepticism. I’m thankful that these places in me don’t surprise You or remove me from community with You.

Help me rebuild community again the same way You rebuilt community after the fall with Adam and Eve. I release every place of shame that has created walls of isolation and ask that You show me how to keep releasing shame to You as I move through these Garden Lessons. I surrender all my hurts to You because I know You can make me whole.

For all the healing You have done so far and for all You have yet to do in me, I thank You. Make my heart ready so that the community You see is the community I build. In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.

Speaking Fire into Your Community

I declare that isolation and fear will not lead me away from the gift of community [Isaiah 41:10].

Even in my hurt, I will not doubt the Lord’s ability to heal [Psalm 69:20].

I choose today to rejoice with the truth and always protect, always trust, always hope, always persevere [1 Corinthians 13:6–7].

Excerpted with permission from She Speaks Fire by Mariela Rosario, copyright Mariela Rosario.